Work Text:
“Can you - can you stop that?”
“Huh?”
Scott looks over to Hope, blinking at her in confusion as the woman stares him down with annoyance furrowing her brow. It takes him a second - okay, a few seconds - when she makes a motion with her head towards his hands suspended over the dashboard he was drumming on.
What can he say? He was in the zone.
It wasn’t like a stakeout let them do much else to pass the time.
“Oh. My bad.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbles under her breath, taking a sip from the orange insulated tumbler she places back in the center console.
“Hey, can I get a sip of that? I feel a little parched.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Wow. And here I was thinking we were partners. Friends, even.”
When they were first given the intel, the duo had assumed it would be a huge bust they were intercepting. That there was something they’d be retrieving - something they may have been stopping.
Nope, nothing that cool.
It was a simple surveillance job this time around; their target would be leaving the warehouse they were parked a short ways away from, they’d tail her - one in the van, the other shrunk down and in their target’s proximity - and when they arrived at the destination they’d just… Watch. Hang around, gather intel.
They were paired for this instead of it being deemed a solo mission in case anything went south. The target was elusive, not a lot known about her. It wasn’t known if she was a danger or not, so it was best to play it safe just in case.
Besides. They worked well together and liked each other’s company well enough.
“Oh my god!”
“What? What!”
“Can you stop drumming for five minutes? You’re worse than a kid, Scott. Should have brought Cassie instead of you.”
“I’m sorry I’m bored! Maybe if somebody let me use the phone charger instead of hogging it to themselves, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
Hope scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You are the worst. Ugh.” Getting up from the driver’s seat she moves to the back of the van, moving around various wires and miscellaneous items before finally finding the extra phone charger.
Making her way back to her seat the wire’s tossed onto Scott’s lap and she’s settling heavy into the cushion beneath her. “Happy?”
“Very much so, thank you.” With a grin he’s plugging the usb end into one of the three outlets available, waiting for his phone’s screen to light up with life once more. There’s a few moments where it’s the waiting game before the screen turns on, the battery symbol flashing a few times to signal it needs a moment to itself.
Scott wonders why phones have to be so dramatic when they die and are put on the charger. It’s not like it’s an inconvenience to the phone itself.
Setting the device in one of the empty cup holders (Hope smacks his hand away from trying to discreetly grab her tea), the man leans back in the seat to stare out the windshield. It had been four hours so far and nothing. Not even a peep. If the information they were meant to be gathering wasn’t so sensitive he would have gone in there right off the bat to get it over with.
Still. They were professionals. They could wait this out. Play it cool.
“So… Anything new with you?”
There’s a pause as if she’s trying to figure out if he’s genuinely asking or not. “Um.”
Was there? Nothing really came to mind. Besides simply being back this year after the Avengers reverted The Blip - ”It was a lot more complex than just “bring people back that were dusted”; when Banner used the stones he made it so The Snap never even happened in the first place. Otherwise, too many problems would have occurred. I mean, could you imagine half the population just popping back into existence after five years?” - and reconnecting with her family during that time, Hope can’t single out anything particular.
“Not really. Mostly just acclimating. Getting a feel for all of… this.”
“Ah. Yeah, same.”
The pair fall into an easy silence.
They sit like that for a few minutes, eying the warehouse’s front to be on the lookout for any changes.
Scott hands slowly rise over his thighs, and just like that he’s back to drumming away.
“Scott-” Her complaint’s cut off by his phone chiming, alerting them that it has sufficient energy to be used while on the charger.
“Hope.” Snatching up his device, the man looks over the various messages that came in while his phone was dead.
One was Kurt.
Two from Dave.
One from Maggie and Jim each, the glance at the previews showed it was a reminder - probably for dinner on Thursday night.
Three from Luis.
Scott can’t help the smile that unconsciously pulls at his mouth, deciding to put the others on the back burner for right now. It was late anyways; everyone would be asleep.
Besides Luis, who was a night owl and was probably doing his own work.
(Like a hypocrite Scott had told him plenty of times not to stay up too late working; it goes to his head and he gets stressed out with things easier when he’s lacking proper sleep. Each time he’s waved off, but Luis has been trying to keep a proper schedule.
“I’m not trying to bring work home, Scotty. It just happens! Besides, like, half the stuff I bring back are easy things that are done in like, twenty minutes. Half hours tops.”
“Yeah, but you’re bringing home multiple things. That time adds up.”
“See, like, you’re right… But anyways, I have the ideal set up for this blueprint that this client wants. Check it out, follow me on this-”)
He shoots off a message - a simple hey, hope you’ve eaten :) - and grins at the near immediate response. He’d be annoyed with Luis staying up past “bedtime” later, when he wasn’t out late at night on a boring mission.
It's back and forth for a while, mostly questions about each other's well being and respective days, updates on the business, and Scott doesn’t realize he’s making faces until he feels eyes on him.
Giving a glance to his left, the man blinks, watching Hope openly staring at him with her elbow propped on the steering wheel and her head resting on her hand. She looks smug. “...What?”
“Nothing, you just have that look when it comes to Luis.”
“Look? What look?” Confused, he turns to better face her, brows raised in question.
“That adoring puppy look.” She laughs. “You get hearts in your eyes and you look even more dopey than usual.”
“Wh- I do not! I don’t look any way!”
“Yes you do! Both of you look at each other with that look that makes it obvious to everyone.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hope.” Crossing his arms, Scott shakes his head, refusing to meet his friend’s gaze and see her smug smirk any longer.
“Oh, yes you do. Don’t lie to me.” Snickering, the woman grabs her drink and finishes off the honey and lavender tea her mother made for her before she left, letting the liquid sit on her tongue for an extra second before swallowing it all down. “God, you’re so obvious. I don’t even know why you’re getting defensive.”
“I’m not defensive! We just don’t look at each other in any special way!”
She gives him a pointed stare, looking like she wanted to burst out laughing at his claim. “Are you… You’re joking, right? When one of you speaks, the other can’t take his eyes off. You just stand there, openly staring, looking spaced out and in loooooove.”
Hope openly laughs when Scott bats at her lightly, telling her to shut up. She shows him mercy and doesn’t bring up the red in his face and on the tips of his ears.
Settling down once more, the woman heaves a loud sigh, glancing over at her partner as he ignores her and sends off another message. She can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek, trying hard not to make thatlook again.
“...So is it fully official?”
Scott pauses in whatever he’s doing on his phone, blinking and seeming to consider something, before he gives a shrug. “I mean… We shared a prison cell for three years, a house for two. We run a business together and he has a great relationship with my daughter. I didn’t think I’d have to come out and say anything. Plus, you saw our dynamic for how long when you were surveying me?”
He has a point.
“Huh.” She isn’t surprised, really. If she put any thought into it makes sense. Scott and Luis acted like they were married - she’s even overheard the latter annoyed at how the dishwasher is loaded or how the sheets get folded in the linen closet.
It checks out.
Hope’s a little embarrassed it never really clicked in all the time she’s known the two.
(The casual affection the two men shared was brushed off when she first witnessed it, shrugging it off and assuming it was just how they were.
They were all right.)
“Speaking of looks,” It’s Scott’s turn to be looking at her, the expression on his face a mix of curiosity and smug. She decides against telling him he looks constipated. “You, uh. You give that look to anyone?”
The woman snorts, shaking her head. “Where’s that coming from?”
“Nowhere. Just, you know. There’s been some talk.”
“Talk, huh? Who’s talking?”
“A couple weeks ago, when I was doing that mission with Cap and -“
“Oh, Cap, huh?” The teasing hasn’t yet faded from when he first used the nickname. At this point it’s stuck and Scott really hopes that Steve never overhears the taunt from The Wasp.
“Yes, Cap. Anyways, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by someone I thought had manners -“
“I wonder who that could have been.”
“I dunno, some woman with an attitude. Think her name is Despair, or something. I don’t think she was raised right.”
They’re both laughing, the banter a refreshing moment in comparison to how lately it’s been a little stiff with everyone; The Blip may have been reverted, but those that remember - The Avengers, some in the know personnel - are still recovering from the five years leading up to the death of Thanos and changes they had to accept over the years being overthrown in a matter of minutes.
Everyone’s getting better, but it’s a process.
Neither admit it, barely admit it to themselves, but Scott and Hope feel some strange sense of comfort at not being subjected to watching those around them get dusted, and then having to live for five years with that weight.
(Scott had looked it up when he arrived at the Compound that first night after driving cross country. None of his group made it; Pym and the Van Dynes, Kurt, Dave, Maggie.
Luis.
All dusted.
He won’t admit he cried himself to sleep that night, the comfort of knowing that at least Cassie had both Maggie and Jim for the five years easing some of the weight from him, but knowing everyone else was gone? It hurt.
The Avengers were a sorry bunch. Half gone, their relationships all splintered after what had happened in the past… Scott needed to be strong and he put on a smile for those that remained; someone had to be optimistic, and he was the guy for the job.)
“Anyways, before that monster of a woman comes back to interrupt me again,” Scott leans away from the arm reaching out to smack at his arm, grinning. “I was going to say… That Cap may or may not have told me some, uh, hot gos.”
“Hot gos.”
“Yeah, you know. Hot gossip.”
“I know what it means, Scott.”
“Just gotta be sure! You never know!”
“Anyways.”
“Anyways. I was informed that you and a miss Maria Hill have been seen on a few occasions together.” Scott has to raise his voice as Hope attempts to speak over him, the grin on his face widening as it’s the woman’s turn to look flustered.
“Brunch? Dinner? After mission drinks? Why, Hope, if I didn’t know any better I’d think -”
“You’d think nothing because you’re oblivious! Shut up!”
“I would think you give that look to someone yourself.”
“I don’t give looks to anyone!”
“Now who’s getting defensive?” He can’t help but tease her, feeling his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling. He can't remember a time where he’s seen her so thrown off before.
“I’m not defensive! She’s a work partner! Sometimes we just run into each other!”
“Uh huh.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“It kiiiinda seems like you are.”
“Scott, I’m about to kick you out of this van.”
“Oh, that’s great timing. I’m pretty sure that’s our mark.”
Hope’s attention snaps to the warehouse across the street, watching as a figure slowly emerges from the side door. They’re tentative, checking their surroundings every few seconds. There’s no doubt that’s who they’re after.
“Pretty sure is right. Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“Yup!” He’s already shrunk down and standing on the driver side door, waiting. Rolling down the window, Hope gives him a countdown from three before she flicks him with her middle finger into the direction their mission is wandering off in.