She dropped onto the landing pad, half-consciously mirroring Tony’s favourite landing pose. Setting fingertips to the door, Summer squared her shoulders and steeled herself. ‘I’m annoyed with him,’ she reminded herself, before pushing the door open.
“Hey.”
“Afternoon,” he greeted, and then knocked back the last of his drink. “Do please contain your enthusiasm,” he added wryly.
He gave her a quick once-over, assessing what he had to work with. Pretty woman, with the predictable desire to be more so. And something deeper, as well. Something that felt like spiraling, a need for control and power, to keep other minds out.
“After all, not like I forced you to show up,” he pointed out, with a cheerfully casual, “Get a taste of undercooked brain today?” along the same lines as ‘someone piss in your Cheerios?’
Summer sighed, folding her arms. “I have to admit, I was hoping that when you had something to say to me next it would be a little more …” she flicked a hand, looking for a word, “informative than ‘kinda miss you’. But apparently I’m a sucker and can’t stay away from you. And you’re being more than usually weird.”
Crossing the room, she dropped herself heavily into the sofa and looked at Tony upside down. “So. You missed me, kinda.”