Who: John and Wanda When: Late Tuesday night Where: The atrium What: Wanda gets revenge for not going slutty love-crazy over the weekend, and John is of course there for moral support. And voyeurism. But totally moral support, too.
Why was he doing this? Wait, why was she doing this? And why was John the one feeling a bit anxious? If this really wasn't a scheme for Pietro to break John's face into fifteen different pieces, then this was the greatest (and easiest) entertainment ever arranged for an otherwise boring Tuesday night. It may have been Bobby's birthday, but John was the one getting the present.
Immediately after Wanda had dared him to meet her in the atrium, John closed out the browser window and headed out of his room, managing a casual pace but not, in fact, doing much to hide the satisfied smirk threatening to break into a full-blown grin at any moment. God, some days he really loved being able to talk people into just about everything. He had no idea why anyone actually listened to him, or if he even had that much influence at all and instead just managed to exploit weaknesses people already had, but if Wanda had a streaking fetish then, well, John was just doing a public service to indulge her. Or so he'd explain when he inevitably got put in detention.
When he reached the atrium, he hesitated uncertainly for a moment before dropping down into a chair, straddling it backwards and drumming a mindless beat against the back board. She was really going to do this, wasn't she? Man. He should have thought of this ages ago.