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@relentless-perplexity

“May I buy you a drink?”

The words curled warm and teasing over Diana’s tongue as she stepped up behind Steve in the coffeeshop, just-barely late. But he’d always been more punctual than she had, so she figured he wouldn’t mind three and a half minutes too terribly. Presuming, of course, that he hadn’t arrived early.

Diana removed her sunglasses to better see him, not wanting the blue of his eyes muted. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, a hand sliding towards his, fingers lacing through. “I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

It had been a long weekend spent upstate, one of those feeble attempts to navigate awkward family dynamics created by the Snap. He could write a book, a how-to-guide detailing things like how to not completely abandon your nephew without also sparking the latent jealousy of your brother-in-law. An unsuccessful work in progress. And so Steve hummed, something relieved, body relaxing at the first sound of the familiar voice.

Automatically, he squeezed the hand that found his before removing his baseball cap, not wanting to accidentally catch Diana’s eye when he leaned in to steal a kiss. Usually he avoided such blatant displays in public (even if it was just to the cheek), but this offered him the opportunity to drop the hat onto Diana’s head, playfully tapping the worn Air Force logo as he pulled back.

Steve tried not to worry, but …

A harried barista called for Colonel Trevor and Steve grinned. “Just in time, actually.” He knew her favorites well enough that he could at least properly order the usual (even when he privately referred to it as one of her fancy drinks). Still, juggling two cups and a bag of assorted sweets, he purposefully extended the wrong hand and, with an air of faux innocence, asked: “You like black coffee, right?”

amazonianichor

As ever, Diana melted into the press of Steve's lips—only to pull back with a broad grin and a playful wrinkle of her nose, the baseball cap on her head contrasting brilliantly with her sleek outfit. She didn't dislodge it, though, warmed through at his habitual concern.

The smile only grew at Steve's teasing. (Her smiles came easily enough again now, but there had been a long time when it had felt as though Steve was the only one who could lure them out. Some nights she still awoke from dreams where her sisters crumbled to ash.) Never one to back down from a challenge, Diana plucked the coffee from his hand. She maintained direct eye contact as she took a sip—

—and caved under the shine of his eyes and the taste of the coffee with a lightly affronted noise, followed by a laugh. "Perhaps not quite as much as you do, my love," she allowed, swapping cups with a sly look aimed towards the bag he held. (Soon.) Diana looped her arm through Steve's to steer him towards an empty corner table, taking a sip of the much more palatable cappuccino warming her palm. Perfect. "Mm... How many years ago, do you think, did the last of your tastebuds drown under the assault of what you call coffee?" Diana asked as she sat down, eyes shining. "How long do I have you this afternoon?"

#relentlessperplexity.o1 #(formatting with the updates is killing me; please forgive lack of cutting!)

@relentless-perplexity

"May I buy you a drink?"

The words curled warm and teasing over Diana's tongue as she stepped up behind Steve in the coffeeshop, just-barely late. But he'd always been more punctual than she had, so she figured he wouldn't mind three and a half minutes too terribly. Presuming, of course, that he hadn't arrived early.

Diana removed her sunglasses to better see him, not wanting the blue of his eyes muted. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said, a hand sliding towards his, fingers lacing through. "I hope you weren't waiting long?"

#relentlessperplexity.o1

divine-rage

@amazonianichor

“These steps are a lot more fun when you can skip ‘em entirely and just float right on up.” The Metropolitan Museum of Art had always been a New York favorite, somewhere to step in when she was at the Manhattan-based Titans tower or otherwise found herself in the city. She’d first visited with her mother when she was quite young when Helena had been brought in by the museum director for a consultation, Cassie barely able to see into the exhibits without being lifted up and spending half the time on her mother’s shoulders. Museums always felt like home to Cassie, even ones she was visiting for the first time; she found comfort in wandering through exhibits both new and familiar, admiring details and linework and history behind glass display cases and red rope barriers. She’d grown up running around the Gateway City Museum of Antiquities, underfoot and touching everything and anything she wasn’t supposed to. The appeal of museums had long-since lasted, and if anything had grown as Cassie had grown older.

“-- Especially when it’s this frickin’ cold out.” She exhaled heavily to accentuate her point, a cloud of breath swirling between them as she approached the familiar figure on the steps. “Sorry I’m late, but I stopped for coffee.” The two drinks in-hand were held up slightly as though in proof, and Cassie offered one out to Diana. “Should we head in before I lose my fingers?”

amazonianichor

"Well, I'd hate for any harm to come to your fingers," Diana agreed, accepting the cup from Cassie with a brush of their fingers; her own were warm. "Thank you, Cassie." She nodded up towards the entrance, heading up with a click of heels.

She didn't always enjoy New York, but it was an easy city to blend into. Diana wouldn't quite say she was hiding, per se—anyone who would like to try to arrest her was welcome to make the attempt—but she had, at least, learned to keep her head down as the Magistrate began spreading outside of Gotham with arms like creeping vines. A chignon and sunglasses, luckily, seemed to be enough in this case.

She had separated Diana Prince and Diana of Themyscira for decades. She could do so again.

"Tell me, kαμάρι μου," Diana said, in the same tone she'd used decades ago when Cassandra barely came up to her chest, "how would you differentiate between early Amazonian and early Mycenaean art?" Diana punctuated the question with a sip of her coffee. Perhaps it was a bit of a softball, given that the Amazons had been created long before the Mycenaeans had flourished, but it was hardly fair to man's world to compare the Amazons to their Cycladic contemporaries. And given the purpose of the day's trip, the question was relevant.

#divinerage.o1