"You just need someone to help rub you down," a familiar voice interjected from the dock. Even holding a popsicle stick and looking over the frame of his sunglasses, Tony looked far more dignified than the couple in the lake. For once, he was the one with all of his clothes on, and wasn't even damp. Not that he seemed put off by any lack of dignity in the water. He chewed the end of the stick with a particularly lascivious grin, looking entirely too much like he expected the rest of the clothing to come off as well. Whether Pietro started or Wicked finished he didn't much mind. It would be the first really interesting thing to happen at this party, anyway, and might shift the mood a little more to Tony's favour. Whatever ill will the gal bore towards Pietro for getting her into this position, which she must have appreciated under the accusatory demeanor, could be massaged away, Tony was sure. Then he caught Pietro's eye, and the casually enticing slouch he had fallen into became a rigid defensiveness.