miss americana

Barry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, years of being the Flash have taught me a thing or two about quick thinking. I'm always running late to things, so having a good excuse up my sleeve definitely comes in handy." He grinned. "And hey, if you ever need a backup plan, just give me a call. I've got plenty more where those came from." He leaned back, considering her options. "Mysterious illness is solid. Keep it vague, mention something about not wanting to spread it around. People usually back off when you mention germs." His grin widened. "Or, you could always pretend to get lost in the city. No one ever expects a hero to be directionally challenged."

"I could say a random windstorm got me all turned around." She smirked. "I'll go with the illness. But the super speed works for your brain, too?" Sam asked, smiling sweetly over at him. "I could argue against that, you know."

"Good. I'm not trying to attract anyone," Pietro muttered, but he pulled the pillow off his face. "You don't need to rub it in," he added, scowling. He tossed the pillow vaguely in her direction, but didn't care enough to truly aim it. "Seriously, don't go. Your stupid roommate is almost terrifying, and as you pointed out -- I'm stuck here. So keep me company or I'm going to lose my mind."

"It's an expression, Maximoff." Sam caught the pillow he attempted to throw at her and rolled her eyes, walking over to him. Sitting down beside him, she continued, "She's not terrifying. She's just a bitch to you. Because you're being a bitch. We need to get you out of here and get your head somewhere else for a little bit."

"That could work, just make sure to keep track of these fictional relatives so you don't accidentally bring them back. The other option is to tell them you have a prior commitment to a friend who really needs you this weekend. It’s not exactly a lie, and you get to spend time doing something you actually want to do. Plus, it sounds noble." He winked, adding, "And if all else fails, there's always the 'mysterious illness' card."

"Nah, I'm good. I kill people off from my Mom's side of the family all the time because I never really see them and everyone knows it's a tough subject for me, so they don't question it." She nodded at the other suggestion. "But then I have to be social. Unless it's someone I like, then I guess I can suffer." She pursed her lips together. "Mysterious illness could work, though. Also, you are way too quick at coming up with ways to get out of shit."

"Your best friend told you it was stupid. There, excuse given," Pietro muttered from the couch. It was hard to hear him from under the pillow but he refused to move it from his face. He was pouting. "Just stay home and watch stupid American movies with me."

"You know, this really isn't an attractive look for you," Sam commented, looking at him. "Didn't Carter bench you from the field anyway?"

Barry chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Is it just me, or is there a new charity party every weekend? I say you go with the classic 'family emergency.' Always a winner and hard to argue with. Or, you could go with the 'urgent work deadline' excuse—never fails to get me off the hook."

"Because they want us to overcompensate for the fact that everytime we go off to save the city, we end up destroying half of the city in the process," Sam smiled at him, brightly. But it was gone a second later when she rolled her eyes. "At least that's what I'm assuming." She pursed her lips in thought. "I could kill off a great great aunt I don't have."

Peter nodded gratefully and took the sparkling water. "Thanks," he said, nodding to Sam, a small but very grateful smile on his face. "The guest list... It uh, it doubled. At least, that's -- that's what it looks like out there."

"Welcome," Sam replied, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table beside him. "You looked like you were having an aneurysm, so." She looked at him with a small, teasing smirk. "You need to leave and get some air, Baby Stark? I don't think we'd be missed too much. No one would be able to tell we're gone."

Pietro scowled even deeper somehow. "Cука," he muttered, as she looked back at him. He took you back sent a dagger of ice through his chest, and he didn't even bother trying to hide it. "Why is it fun to torture me," he grumbled, taking the drink. He didn't even bother drinking it, just started to tap his fingers against the glass, over and over. Faster and faster. "I can't. You know that. He knows that. 'Broody asshole' is at least ninety percent of my personality, and it comes with the stupid face."

"I mean, yeah. He's doing it on purpose. You're an asshole and deserve it." Sam patted his shoulder, while also giving him a gentle shove in the process. She gave him a don't fuck this up look and turned to walk in the other direction.

"Is that an actual question?" Jessica asked, arching a brow as she met Sam's eyes. Shrugging a shoulder, she lifted her glass. "You're right. But Asgardian booze is up my alley, so here I am." She downed the last of her glass and shoved it back carelessly, sending it flying towards the other side of the table. "Plus these things always end in some kind of goddamn disaster, so I figured I'd come make sure you got home safe. Rent's a bitch to pay on my own."

"I was just making sure you were actually you because, as I said, this is a weird place for you to be. Unless you're here on some kind of assignment." She raised her glass, but then paused, and lowered it to look at her. "Wait, are you? Because that'd be scandalous as shit."

Pietro shifted his glare to Sam, scowling as he touched his cheek. "I can dodge bullets, you know. I let you do that." It was a lie. He'd been staring so intently at Johnny across the room that he had no idea she was anywhere near him. "I'm going to go crazy," he muttered, forcing himself to turn around. Even then it was hard not to whip his neck around for another quick glance. "I think he wants me to go crazy."

"Whatever," was her unbothered reply as she looked over at Johnny. "I mean, yeah. He probably is. And you're a dumb ass, so you deserve it." Sam sipped her drink, turning her attention back to Pietro. "Babes, seriously. He took you back. He's just having fun, so you need to stop with the broody asshole thing." She gave him the extra drink and said. "Fix your face. Or at least hide it."