Date Night | Hank
tigressgreer:
After moping around for most of Thursday night, Greer woke up on Friday a little groggy to find Will climbing up over her face. She frowned and tried shrug him away, only to get a mouthful of paw. “Guh, Will…!” Greer pushed him onto the bed and rolled over to look down at him, smiling and tickling his stomach as he squealed. She couldn’t have him around and have a stress-free time with Hank, but she was rue to leave him on his own. Pietro was still not too happy with her and she couldn’t really blame him. That only left Clint. He wouldn’t be too happy.
Thirty minutes and a lot of bribing later, Greer was coming back to her room to get ready. She had a bath (she didn’t really want to, but thought it might be a good idea to), spent an hour trying to pick out a dress, and then started to get the roast ready.
She wasn’t really the best cook out there, but she could follow a recipe well enough. She prepared the vegetables and covered the meat in herbs, laying everything out nicely in the cooking dish before putting it in the oven to begin to cook.
Greer smoothed out her apron and looked around with a sigh, reaching behind herself to untie her apron and moved to put it in the wash. It was only about five o’clock, and all she really had left to do was get dressed. She scratched at her head before deciding to set the table. She’d bought some candles a few days ago and thought it might be nice to lay them over the table. After that was done, Greer changed the sheets of her bed, decided to do Will’s too, and picked up the few things on the floor. She moved to her dresser and turned her bruised cheek to the mirror. You couldn’t see it because of her fur, but it was still a little tender. It’d be gone by tomorrow, but still. She brought her hand up to touch at it gingerly when she noticed she was still wearing her wedding ring. She pried it off and set it down on her dresser before she looked at the clock. “Shit.” It was 6:45.
Greer rushed over to her room to get dressed in the loose black cocktail dress she had set out. It was nice and plain, had no back and plenty of room for her tail, too. She fixed her hair in the mirror before she heard a knock at her door. She didn’t have time to put on her shoes so she just moved to the door. She took a breath before opening it with a smile, leaning a little in the doorway. “Right on time.”
There were a great many mysteries in the multiverse that Henry Pym spent his precious time pondering. Chief among them was how on earth a begoggled, arthropod-loving science nerd like him had ever managed to land a date with someone like Greer Nelson in the first place.
The shirt he was wearing hadn’t made an appearance in a while - wine red and rather dashing for something owned by someone who never had occasion to go anywhere (or, at least, someone who never remembered to leave his lab to go anywhere…); but he recalled a remark of approval from Greer the last time he’d worn it, and so it had seemed like a logical choice for tonight (given her propensity for shredding the shirts she liked him in, he didn’t really like its chances for surviving if things went well - but at least he’d tried).
Arriving at her door bang on seven - lab coat, goggles and most all traces of science gone from his person - he let out a faint huff of nerves and knocked on the door, almost immediately starting to second guess himself as he did so. Maybe he was remembering the wrong shirt… Maybe the roses had been a bit much… It was definitely seven he’d been supposed to show up at, and not six, right?
The moment the door opened and that mesmerising work of curves and wickedly chosen black dress slunk up against the lintel, however, all coherent thought fled his mind.
“Ah…” he managed eloquently, and cleared his throat. “You-… uh… hi.”
