supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“I did tell you. Irish pub. Weren’t you listening?” Summer glanced over, eyelids flickering slightly. So. There was much more to him than was publicly known. “So we are showing off now?” She put on a bit more speed.

“Just down this block by my apartment, and … ” She landed lightly. “Here we are. Now, I’ve shown you one of mine, perhaps you’ll return the favour.” She swung the door open, with that shot, and stepped inside.

No, he hadn’t been. 

But when did he ever, really?

He sped up as she did, not allowing himself to fall behind but not passing her either. No, he didn’t need to beat her.

In his head, he already won.

He stopped when she did, an eyebrow arching slightly as he watched her head inside.

… eh. It was debatable.

He stepped in after her, looking around before back at her.

“… Nice place. Never been here before. I don’t get out much.”

“That’s quite a change for you, isn’t it?” The place was quiet. Well, early afternoon, it wasn’t surprising. She lifted a hand to the greeter, who gestured them to a little table away from the windows without batting an eye.

“Thanks, Shelby,” Summer said, taking menus and silverware from the waitress. “Give us a minute.” She picked up the drinks menu, flipping through it idly, then looked up at Tony.

“See? No ping pong balls.”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“/So/ sure of yourself, Mr Stark.” She glanced around, checking the heaviness of the crowd. Not too bad. Plenty to tap off of, not too many people to freak out. She skipped a couple steps, speeding up a touch, then launched into a low-level glide, sans wings. “I don’t play fair. Come and get me!” Then she took off up the path.

He arched with lightly lifted brow for a moment as she started skipping. And then he could only blink as suddenly she was…. 

Was she flying?

…. well, honestly he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, he palled around with gods and made deals with demons. Why should one flying girl surprise him?

“Have it your way…”

He didn’t need the build up, didn’t need some flashy maneuver, and there was no one around but Summer. So he just simply went… faster. Faster than a human should be capable of moving. The only indication that anything had remotely changed about him was the sudden symbol glowing in the far corner of his right eye as he caught up to her with a wink.

“You should probably at least tell me where we’re going. Don’t want to run past it, after all.”

“I did tell you. Irish pub. Weren’t you listening?” Summer glanced over, eyelids flickering slightly. So. There was much more to him than was publicly known. “So we are showing off now?” She put on a bit more speed.

“Just down this block by my apartment, and … ” She landed lightly. “Here we are. Now, I’ve shown you one of mine, perhaps you’ll return the favour.” She swung the door open, with that shot, and stepped inside.

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“Are we running, or walking, or racing?”

“My favourite place isn’t far, actually. Irish pub.” She set off down the path at a fairly good clip, braid swinging. Usually people doubting her age was annoying, but Stark was /so/ doubtful it went right into funny. Was she still being ‘interviewed’? Not that it mattered. She did sort of hope he would offer to race.

There was more to Summer Rainault than empathy, after all.

“Hey now, pretty sure a race wouldn’t be fair. I’d win.”

He took off after her, easily keeping up with her own strides. He did not pass her, but he did not fall behind either. Just mutual running going on, nothing overly important. Though as he moved his brain began to wander, as it oft did.

Simply couldn’t help it, but his brain remembered the fact that a few days ago his legs had been so sore, so stiff….

but that’s what not using them for three months does to you.

“/So/ sure of yourself, Mr Stark.” She glanced around, checking the heaviness of the crowd. Not too bad. Plenty to tap off of, not too many people to freak out. She skipped a couple steps, speeding up a touch, then launched into a low-level glide, sans wings. “I don’t play fair. Come and get me!” Then she took off up the path.

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

She raised her eyebrows again. “I suppose you’ll see when we get there, then. You coming? Or catching up?” Summer turned and folded up her blanket neatly, tucking it under one arm. She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Well?”

… Well. This was odd. All he wanted to do was go out for a run, and instead here he was getting asked out to drinks by someone who…… looked…… like they were twelve.

“Sure, I’ll bite.”

“Are we running, or walking, or racing?”

“My favourite place isn’t far, actually. Irish pub.” She set off down the path at a fairly good clip, braid swinging. Usually people doubting her age was annoying, but Stark was /so/ doubtful it went right into funny. Was she still being ‘interviewed’? Not that it mattered. She did sort of hope he would offer to race.

There was more to Summer Rainault than empathy, after all.

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

She burst into laughter. “Oh! Oh god.” 

“Yes, Mr Stark, I am more than old enough to drink.” Giggles kept escaping. In between, she asked, “What do you mean, my time is fast approaching? That doesn’t make sense.”

“You know, because summer is coming up. And your name is Summer.”

“You can’t tell me no one has ever said that before. I won’t believe you. And I might not believe you’re old enough to drink, but I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

She raised her eyebrows again. “I suppose you’ll see when we get there, then. You coming? Or catching up?” Summer turned and folded up her blanket neatly, tucking it under one arm. She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Well?”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“Oh yes. I think, with your permission of course, I’d very much like to get to know you better.” Untwining her arms and straightening to her full five two, she looked at him with a slight smile. “My name is Summer. May I buy you a drink, Mr Stark?”

“You buy me a drink?”

“Well that is something I definitely haven’t heard in a while. Summer huh? Guess your time is fast approaching, you must be excited.”

He honestly had to think for a moment. Would it even be right for her to even let him by a- Wait a second.

“Are you even old enough to drink? Don’t get me wrong, you just look… young.”

She burst into laughter. “Oh! Oh god.” 

“Yes, Mr Stark, I am more than old enough to drink.” Giggles kept escaping. In between, she asked, “What do you mean, my time is fast approaching? That doesn’t make sense.”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

She flicked her eyebrow, in return. “Now what did I say? Strange little reaction, that, to my little life history. Is that another secret? Are you one of the Professor’s kind as well, all hidden under technology?”

It had seemed like a reaction to her remark about shielding. But that made no sense. If he was another empath, she’d surely be able to tell; if a telepath … well, she could tell the Professor, even at this distance, so surely she’d be able to tell that too. And who else would need mental shields?

“You are quite the little bundle of puzzles, Mr Stark.”

He’d have to be more careful of that.

“Maybe I’ll tell you at some point. One day. Maybe.”

Or not. Though his eyebrow arched at the mention of ‘professors’.

“Can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t think I’ve ever been called a bundle of puzzles before.”

“Oh yes. I think, with your permission of course, I’d very much like to get to know you better.” Untwining her arms and straightening to her full five two, she looked at him with a slight smile. “My name is Summer. May I buy you a drink, Mr Stark?”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

She snorted a laugh. “That’s a secret you couldn’t keep if you wanted to.” Her arms relaxed into a twined clasp, fingers wound together, and she regarded him seriously again. “I think you are no worse, in that way, than growing up without shields in a small town. If I can survive that … ” She shrugged, carelessly. “And as I said — you’re needed. In the face of that, what matter my small wants? Besides,” a small smile curved her mouth, lighting her eyes, “you’re enjoying this.”

Now that had him laughing.

“Well shoot, and I thought I hid it so well.”

“Guess you have me figured out more than I thought.”

He arched his eyebrow at her mention of growing up without shields. He wondered if she knew just how close to home that comment was for him as well.

It stung a little. He let it go.

“Needed or not, pretty sure at the moment I have no choice but to hang around. At least for a little while yet.”

She flicked her eyebrow, in return. “Now what did I say? Strange little reaction, that, to my little life history. Is that another secret? Are you one of the Professor’s kind as well, all hidden under technology?”

It had seemed like a reaction to her remark about shielding. But that made no sense. If he was another empath, she’d surely be able to tell; if a telepath … well, she could tell the Professor, even at this distance, so surely she’d be able to tell that too. And who else would need mental shields?

“You are quite the little bundle of puzzles, Mr Stark.”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“I thought you were supposed to be a genius.” She folded her arms, in turn, and repeated slowly, “I’m an empath. Think about that for a second.”

Okay, so she could see where a man like him would jump to the personal immediately. But he’d created weapons — including the Iron Man suit. So it really shouldn’t be that hard for him to see the offensive and defensive possibilities inherent in the ability he knew about.

It hadn’t been for her. And that was a thought that still hurt.

Sensing a potential attack long before it got within striking distance. Deflecting lone madmen. The chance to place absolute trust in everyone around — and to know when that trust was no longer warranted. No nightmares or insomnia.

“Maybe that’s one of my well kept secrets.”

“Maybe you’ll figure it out one day, hm?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but talking to her was actually making him feel… better. Not to admit that he was even feeling back in the first place.

“Yeah, no, I can see the tactical advantages of being an empath…. But… I mean, would you really want to put yourself around someone like me? Pretty sure I’ve been told my mood is a roller-coaster.”

She snorted a laugh. “That’s a secret you couldn’t keep if you wanted to.” Her arms relaxed into a twined clasp, fingers wound together, and she regarded him seriously again. “I think you are no worse, in that way, than growing up without shields in a small town. If I can survive that … ” She shrugged, carelessly. “And as I said — you’re needed. In the face of that, what matter my small wants? Besides,” a small smile curved her mouth, lighting her eyes, “you’re enjoying this.”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“Shouldn’t a bodyguard know those secrets, so they know when you’re most in need of protection?” she countered. Batting her eyelashes! Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. “Though you have a point about the current public nature of the discussion. If you’re interviewing me for a position, might be better to move to a more, hmmm,” she sought a non-threatening word, “secluded space?”

Damn, he was tough. She wasn’t even entirely sure why she was pursuing this conversation, except that hint of ‘broken’ that she sensed. And there was just something about him that — compelled, far beyond the simple fact that he was Tony Stark, with all that implied.

Flirting with this man would be courting a broken heart, she suspected. Though it might yet be worth it.

“I’m pretty sure that bodyguards have to protect their boss without question so it doesn’t matter if they know the secrets or not.”

“Though some of them end up learning about the secrets somewhere along the line.”

Usually, it’s when the secret gets them killed…

He chuckled lightly, looking about, his arms still crossed over his chest.

“I could be interviewing you, I don’t know yet. Then again, since I don’t know about those special talents of yours yet, I’m still wondering exactly how you could protect me better than I could protect myself.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a genius.” She folded her arms, in turn, and repeated slowly, “I’m an empath. Think about that for a second.”

Okay, so she could see where a man like him would jump to the personal immediately. But he’d created weapons — including the Iron Man suit. So it really shouldn’t be that hard for him to see the offensive and defensive possibilities inherent in the ability he knew about.

It hadn’t been for her. And that was a thought that still hurt.

Sensing a potential attack long before it got within striking distance. Deflecting lone madmen. The chance to place absolute trust in everyone around — and to know when that trust was no longer warranted. No nightmares or insomnia.