The ripple of his internal laughter was good. She was starting to think he didn’t actually have a sense of humour. Commentary about her height didn’t count.
“Big things come in small packages, Mr Stark. Go on, you can laugh at me. I know what I look like when that happens.” She cocked her head to one side. “I could definitely keep up with you. But then again,” she shrugged, “I cheat.”
Casually she pulled the braid over one shoulder, where it hung nearly to her knees. “Do you need a bodyguard?”
He was trying really hard not to laugh, but she was making it difficult.
“Look, I haven’t needed a bodyguard for three months. If you can convince me I need one, then maybe I’ll hire you. Maybe. I might even throw in room and board. IF you can convince me.”
“You are gonna rupture something if you keep refusing to laugh,” she commented. “Tell me, do you not need a bodyguard because you can defend yourself, or because they never even get to you? I’ve got other skills, if you’d rather. Though if I’m showing off, I really would prefer not to just out in the open.” She circled a hand around to indicate the area around him. “It tends to startle people.”