The Metropolis Dork Squad, Captain America, and the Falcon in... Angst, Death, and Taxes

[stands_for_hope]

[continued from here]

The day had arrived. The trap had been set.

They'd gone to Lois's apartment the day before and made their intentions clear, hoping that with a short period of time, the HYDRA forces wouldn't be able to pull together anything that was too hard to handle.

Jim's paycheck had come in, so he'd treated a rather delicious dinner for the three of them, which had been followed up with some surveillance work, a couple of flights over the various buildings to scout for good positions (both to look for snipers and to drop Lois), and a watching of The Incredibles since there weren't any good games on.

Lois hadn't quite gotten Jim into a french braid with flowers, but she had managed to twist up a few smaller braids and tuck the remainder into a pony tail to keep the worst of it out of his face. If Lois was happy about it as much for it's utility as to give Jim a firm, physical reminder of the people who cared about him... well, she wasn't about to say it out loud.

Clark was with them until roughly half an hour before and informed them just before he left that Captain America was on the ground, apparently sketching one of the ruined and as yet unrepaired buildings on a bench nearby with large 'easel case' while the Falcon was half a mile away on a rooftop. Thankfully, while a good portion of the surrounding area had been destroyed during the attack on Metropolis, this neighborhood was semi-functional (if largely empty during the weekend) so he wasn't entirely out of place.

That just left Lois, her HYDRA pin tucked in place at her collar, and Jim in the empty office room, doing their best to psych themselves into believing this would work.

...and Clark going to investigate the singular figure hiding out on one of the higher rooftops nearby.

Comments

[kolodnoykovki]

He shrugged. "Undershirt, work shirt, tie, suspenders, slacks, jacket, shined shoes. Maybe a hat, depending on where I was going."

[stands_for_hope]

He considers that for a moment, his mind obviously putting it all together before--

"I think we could swing that. Or something close to it, anyway. If you want to."

[kolodnoykovki]

"I'll handle it, if I'm going to end up going to this place to go dancing - dress code, you said. But I couldn't wear that every day now. It'd get in the way on the site." He'd learned what worked and what didn't work on the site as it was.

[stands_for_hope]

"Well, no. But you're not always at work. I know a couple of thrift shops if you wanted to try and get some stuff for when you're home."

[kolodnoykovki]

After a moment's thought, he nodded. "Sure. I'll check it out sometime."

[stands_for_hope]

"Another night."

Which was when his hip buzzed.

"Though I have a feeling we're losing the couch to Lois and her laptop in a few minutes."

He put down the beer and rolled his shoulders a little.

"Back in a few minutes. Need me to pick up anything on the way in?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"Not that I know of," he said. "I mean, bananas, beer, and I've not killed anybody - so I think we're pretty good."

[stands_for_hope]

"Just another night around this place," he agreed before there was a soft breeze and he disappeared.

[kolodnoykovki]

Jim laughed - just once - and then headed toward the bathroom. He wanted another shower, and he could take a few minutes to do that while Clark was bringing Lois back.

[stands_for_hope]

When he came back out, it was to find everything about where one would assume it should be: Lois was camped out on the couch with a movie on in the background, something silly and fluffy that she didn't have to pay attention to while she parsed through her notes. Clark was at his own desk, doing his part for the story they were going to be putting out tomorrow in between checking his computer game and absently thumbs up/thumbs down rating different songs on a Pandora playlist that was puttering through his headphones.

[kolodnoykovki]

When he came out of the bathroom in his robe, Jim looked between the both of them, smiling at how much at home he felt with them around. Soon, Lois would have her apartment back - or she'd move in. Time would tell.

But for now...

For now, he went into the kitchen and started to putter. He, at least, had missed dessert. That meant he could make up for it by making dessert.

[stands_for_hope]

The puttering got Lois to poke her head out from behind the couch before she offered a warm smile over at him.

"Hey. Sorry I took so long."

[kolodnoykovki]

"It's no big deal," he answered, back over his shoulder. "If anybody can handle themself around Steve, it's you." He had the flour, sugar, eggs, milk -- he generally knew what he was doing, anyway, and so far, he was succeeding well enough, though he was measuring with a drinking glass.

[stands_for_hope]

"Grandma had some words for him too," she said with a shrug, "but I got enough for at least three more articles and he left with his balls in tact so... could have been worse."

She looked over at him with a wry smile.

"You good?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"Yeah, I'm fine now. It was just a... rough evening." And that might've been an understatement. "The neighbors didn't complain down there, did they? I'm pretty sure you gave him a blue streak up one side and down the other."

[stands_for_hope]

She shook her head.

"The place was kinda empty, apparently. Guess most people aren't interested in doing a bed in breakfast in a disaster area."

She looked over the couch again.

"...whatcha making?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"Uh. Either cookies or cake. I'm... honestly not sure. Since I had to miss dessert, I figured I'd make dessert." Roast, he could do. Chicken, sure. Baking was a little out of his comfort zone, but he was trying.

[stands_for_hope]

"Surprised you didn't go for banana bread," she said with a little smirk before turning back around to keep working on her story.

[kolodnoykovki]

"Nah, gonna keep the bananas for breakfast. Besides, I... have no idea how to make banana bread," he admitted. He barely had an idea of how to make whatever it was he was making, but eventually, he put it in a pan (after adding a little oil and vanilla and a few other things until it looked right) and then into the oven.

[stands_for_hope]

"I'll have to make Clark show you. He's stupidly good at baking. It's one of his lesser known superpowers. That and knitting, but I didn't tell you about that."

"...I can hear you, Lois."

"You can always hear me, Clark. That's what makes it half the fun."

"Mmnf."

[kolodnoykovki]

"...What's the big deal about knitting?" Jim asked from the kitchen, fishing a beer bottle out of the fridge. "Sometimes you need a sock. Cheaper to buy yarn and make a lot of socks than just buy socks."

[stands_for_hope]

"Exactly! I told him the same thing."

Clark rolled his eyes, but didn't look away from his computer.

Lois leaned over the couch conspiratorially.

"Come winter, you'll see. All of his socks? Half he made himself, and the other half are from his mom. It's adorable."

[kolodnoykovki]

"Useful," Jim nodded. "It was how we all did it when... Before the war. During, too. I knew how to knit, how to sew. We could patch things easier than buy new."

[stands_for_hope]

"Lois is just jealous she uses store-bought," Clark noted absently.

"I don't use any unless I'm exercising. What part of business dress lets a girl wear socks? It's totally unfair. I'd have bullied you into knitting me some ages ago if I could wear them."

She swayed thoughtfully as she leaned over the back of the couch.

"I think I will bully you into knitting me some. I do go out on trips sometimes, you know. Nice squishy handmade socks would be really nice the next time I have to head into the wilds of Canada."

Clark turned to give her a bit of an eyeroll before he leaned back around to look at Jim.

"I've got some yarn and needles if you ever want to make something for yourself. They're in the little box under the coffee table."

[kolodnoykovki]

But Jim shook his head. "I can sew now, but I can't knit." Holding up his left hand, he flexed his fingers to demonstrate. "Not nimble enough with gloves, the yarn would get caught without gloves. Figured that out the first time I tried to wash my hair without a glove on."