Now that they are out of harm's way, the mood is considerably less tense. Far, far away from the perfidious motorbike, Lola resumes her kinder mannerisms. Rogers slowly warms to her again, but he is still edgy and vigilant, on the cusp of constant action. The two of them cross the gated courtyard, skirting around the fountain, and climb the marble steps to the soaring main entrance to the grand tower. They pass a bellman and valet who greet them with dignified nods. Lola can hear a dull commotion inside the building. Rogers, his briefcase under his arm and his shield in the same hand, rings the bell.
Stark answers the door, clad in his Iron Man attire, complete with an expensive glass of Champaign, which he holds carefully between two metal fingers. His suit has been polished and shines ostentatiously.
Stark smiles solicitously. "Welcome to the grand opening of the new and improved, fully refurbished and fabulous Stark Tower." He takes inventory of their ruined attire. "I see you've been… busy. Who are you supposed to be? Dumpster Boy and Trailer Girl?" Lola purses her lips, but she is somewhat amused by his loose and easy arrogance. He bears a more vulgar resemblance to Thor in that aspect. Her twisted heart stirs. She longs to see him again. She quickly suppresses the sentiment.
Rogers stands ready. "Tony, we need to use your phone. I have an urgent message for SHIELD."
/Party Rock!/ the muffled surround sound system announces from inside. "Can't it wait? This is my jam."
Rogers frowns and motions towards Lola. "This woman's life could be in grave danger."
Stark eyes her somewhat lewdly. "That's convenient. Is that what you say about every girl you bring home?"
Roger's jaw works behind the aggravated line of his lips, but he retains his dutiful composure. "She is being pursued by extraterrestrials."
"Good cover. Did her parents buy it?" Rogers looks ready to lunge at him. Red anger bleeds into his face. Stark raises his hands. "Seriously though. Come in and enjoy yourselves. I was worried you didn't get the invite."
Rogers mumbles something that sounds like 'I didn't', but lapses back to the original subject. "I do not think attending a gala open to the public is appropriate under the circumstances."
"Hey. Easy Capsicle. She's in a house full of superheroes. I have the upmost confidence in you and your tights. Go put your spangles on. This party's just getting warmed up." Rogers looks less than convinced, his face still slightly flushed from frustration. He fists his hands tightly. Stark bends his arm and offers Lola his elbow. "My lady." With a flirtatious smirk, Lola takes his arm. He turns and leads her away.
"Ha-ha," Rogers retorts mirthlessly while he stands at the door, elevating his voice enough to be heard in their wake.
Stark ignores him. A tall, slender woman in a long white gown excuses herself from a small congregation of businessmen, some in costume, to meet them in the hallway. Her strawberry blonde hair is secured in a crown of spirals. Before she can voice her apparent confusion, Stark says, "It seems Captain America's date could use a change of clothes."
The woman's eyebrows jump up. "Steve has a date?"
"I know. Shocking, right?"
"Actually-" Lola begins, relinquishing her hold on his arm.
"This is…" He rolls his hand, trying to prompt her to finish his sentence, as he forgot to accrue that pertinent piece of information.
The woman rolls her eyes and shakes her head hopelessly. She adopts a pleasant smile. "Hello. I'm Pepper," she intercedes cordially, extending her hand to Lola.
"Lola," she replies, accepting the gesture accordingly, her lips laced with a sincere smirk.
"It's a pleasure," Pepper says.
"Lola," Stark repeats. "Spunky. Alright. Well, you ladies go get to know one another. I'm going to get my shuffle on." The mask of his suit flips up and pieces itself together, the eyes glowing. He nods to them and heads into the crowd.
"I'm sorry about that," Pepper apologizes, leading Lola towards a spiraling stairwell.
"It's quite alright. Stark's reputation precedes him."
"I'm glad you were prepared," Pepper laughs. Lola chuckles too. The music gets quieter. Lola notices the paintings and other art pieces that line the hall. She reasons Pepper has everything to do with them, as Stark clearly lacks the interest for such highly cultured taste. Pepper's inquisitive voice disrupts her thoughts. "So what happened?"
Lola interprets the question as referring to her disheveled appearance. "We encountered some inclement conditions on the way," Lola explains concisely. "The threat has been nullified, thanks to the Captain."
Pepper shakes her head as they climb the stairs. Wryly, "I swear. They're like danger magnets."
"Never a dull moment. I am accustomed to it. My brother is quite the troublesome sort as well."
"Do you live here in Manhattan?"
"Oh no. I'm… out of town."
Pepper smiles. "Business or pleasure?"
Espionage, Lola answers to herself. "A little of both."
"Fantastic." They reach the landing and Pepper escorts her through the wing until they come to the clouded glass of the French doors. Pepper takes her inside and crosses the immaculate, modestly furnished white room. She walks towards the closet, which slides open just before she reaches it. She disappears momentarily.
Lola explores the room with her eyes, noting the wide seamless window overlooking a spectacular view of the glittering city. Pepper emerges, holding the slender hangers of two dresses. She brandishes them alternately so Lola may select one. The first is short and seductive, layered with black mesh over scarlet fabric, the ribbon-like straps meant to hang over the shoulders. The second is a floorlength emerald dress made of a thin, glossy material. It ties behind the neck, leaving what remains of the long straps to dangle down the back. Lola singles out the green one with a sinuous point of her finger.
"I had a feeling you might choose that one," Pepper agrees with an approving smirk. She replaces the red dress in the closet. She motions to the left, indicating another door of opaque glass. "The shower is through there. Feel free to use whatever you need." Laying the dress, gloves, and a pair of opened toed black stilettos in Lola's arms, "I'm glad Steve is finally branching out. I think Tony's relieved too." Before Lola can correct her, "He's been really distant and reclusive lately. We were all kind of secretly wondering if he was going to be alright after all that happened to him and what he lost. No matter how tough he appears on the outside, the heart of a mortal man still beats inside him. Try not to break what he has left? He needs someone to take care of him."
Pepper smiles and passes her by, leaving Lola to hang on her words. She hears the door open and the latch catch as it closes. She stands rooted in place, uncertain of what she is feeling. After a long, introspective pause she realizes it is guilt. Lola has no plans to take care of Rogers, nor does she feel any affection for him. He is a pawn in her game, nothing more. Yet, Pepper's request finds a foothold in her heart, threading into place like fastidious vine. She rolls her eyes and sighs, trying to forget the notion. The Captain's bleeding heart is not her concern.
She elevates a small handful of the dress, careful not to clutch it tight enough to wrinkle the fabric, and keeps it from entangling her feet as she descends the stairwell. The black satin gloves ending above her elbows glide like liquid down the banister. She is a few steps from the bottom landing when, compelled by Stark's sudden silence, the inspiring figure of Captain America in full uniform turns and sees her. She recognizes the otherwise unimpressive human form of Bruce Banner beside him as well, dressed in a tailored suit. Pepper squeezes the shell of Stark's arm and smiles.
A jeweled clasp secures the lengthy green straps behind her neck. They trail down the bare skin of her back, her shoulders equally exposed. There is a diamond dusted broach centered below the bust of the gown that sparkles in the right light. Her hair is pinned to the left, a long mess of ebony ringlets cascading down her shoulder. Lola knows she is beautiful. She would tolerate nothing less in an alternate form. But something about the way Rogers is looking at her causes an irritating tightness around her lungs. She smirks at him furtively to conceal her on insecurity. Stark steps forward and playfully digs an elbow into his side. Rogers strides forward and meets her at the bottom of the stairwell, slack jawed in an undignified stupor. Lola patiently slants a curvaceous eyebrow.
Rogers clears his throat and offers her his arm. "Ma'am." She takes it as she steps down to the floor. "You look amazing," he murmurs to her, trying to curb his growing smile.
Calmly, "Thank you Captain. You look quite dashing yourself." He inclines his chin and fills his chest. She nearly laughs.
"Kodak moment. Does anyone have a camera?" Stark asks, glancing around. Pepper swats his arm.
"Dr. Banner, meet Lola Lancaster," Rogers introduces when they reach the group.
Banner extends his hand with a lazy smirk. "Enchanted." Lola cannot determine if he is being sarcastic or genuine. She extends her hand in kind and gives his a light squeeze with a grateful dip of her chin.
Stark claps his hands together with a metallic clang. "Now it's a party."
"Indeed," Lola agrees with a beguiling grin. She senses Rogers staring at her from the corner of his eyes and hopes it stings him that she does not do that same.
Rogers muses modestly, "Don't you think this is sort of showy? Isn't it odd that we're parading around in the open like this?"
"Welcome to the celebrity life. This is all part of the flare of heroism, Stevie. You've got to capitalize. Jarvis, can we get some Champagne over here?" Stark asks the empty air.
"Certainly, sir," a synthetic, pleasant male voice answers.
"And take the rest of the night off. Hibernate, or whatever it is you do."
With a hint of sarcasm, "Thank you kindly, sir. You're most generous."
"Shall we?" Stark offers his arm to Pepper. She smirks and accepts it. They turn and proceed back to the crowds gathered towards the central axis of the building. Lola notices that Banner looks slightly more unsettled than normal, as though he is uncomfortable.
She offers him her unoccupied elbow. "Dr." He flashes her a appreciative smirk and obliges. The three of them follow Stark and Pepper back to the festivities, which are well underway.
Lola recalls the last time she danced – with Sif at a celebration on Asgard. This banquet was an annual affair. Albeit her beauty, Sif made a rigid partner, but one so hardened by war should be expected to emanate nothing less. Lola is reminded of her immense stores of strength as Rogers leads her around the floor, feeling inapt at following his stiff steps. She forces the dominance in her natural personality to recede. Being a woman is so very complicated.
"So… are you seeing anyone?" he poses bashfully.
"How do you mean?" she asks, unfamiliar with that particular way of phrasing a question.
"Romantically speaking, is there a man in your life?" he asks, the boldness of his statement a sizable leap for his modest personality.
Lola averts her eyes thoughtfully. Thor's image looms in her mind. "There was," she tells him. "But it is not to be. Unimaginable distance separates us now. That rift will never be bridged. Our differences cannot be resolved."
"I am sorry," Rogers relays, though his voice is very far away. Lola's memory strays back several years, to a time before the tide came in, before she realized her destiny lay on a different path than her intended. She has tried to find peace with the pain, but only succeeded in letting it fuel her actions. Witnessing Thor's fascination with Jane drove an unconquerable wedge between them. She is partially maddened with jealousy, partially poisoned by betrayal that is not necessarily rational. Though their affair was more serious than anyone was aware, Thor's feelings were not as strong, not as severe as hers were. For his confusion and regrettable lapse in judgment, he will suffer. His choice, unintentionally, also determined hers.
"Lola?" She looks up abruptly. Rogers is regarding her questioningly.
"I apologize," she relents uncharacteristically. "A great deal has transpired today."
His expression falls. "I shouldn't have brought it up."
Lola realizes Rogers believes himself to be the one to blame for her preoccupation. He stomachs far too much responsibility for any individual to take on. She assumes a charming smirk. "Oh? And why, pray tell, did you bring it up in the first place?"
He blanches. "Well." He hardens his expression against reproach. "It is important to assess possible motives and peril from all angles."
"Granted," she agrees and continues to dance with him. She watches him swallow discretely, suddenly interested in something over her shoulder. She delights in making him uncomfortable and thus holds her gaze.
Rogers steps falter for an instant. He releases her and steps back. "I should see about that phone call now… before Stark drinks himself into a coma. If you'll excuse me." Lola replies with a subtle smile. He bows his head and strides away.
"May I?" a man says. She pivots towards him, slightly startled. Banner smiles, his hand waiting at the ready. She relaxes and lays her hand in his and her other on his shoulder. After a few counts, "You look… familiar."
"Do I?" she asks with a capricious grin.
"Yeah. You remind me of someone I've met… but I can't quite put my finger on who."
"Ah. Well, I can only hope the resemblance is not entirely unfortunate. Someone I should aspire to, perhaps?"
"I guess we'll see."
Lola, unabashed by his slighted response, changes the subject. Pleasantly, "You know, I nearly didn't recognize you without your infamous complexion. It seems an affinity for green is something we share."
His wide smile holds no mirth. "I hate green."
"Pity. It suits you." She retreats from his embrace. "If you'll excuse me, I've had a rather trying day. I think I shall retire. Thank you for the dance."
"Where did you say you were from?" he inquires as she turns away.
"I didn't." Lola leaves him.