supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“That’s good. That’s very good, Mr Stark. What would coax you to spill some of those secrets?” she asked. Something in her voice seemed to whisper, Go on, you can trust me, I’m safe, share your secrets.

“I can tell you one thing; it’d be a lot more than batting your eyelashes.”

“Besides, pretty sure spilling those secrets would aid those people who are supposedly trying to kill me. You know, the ones I may or may not need a bodyguard to protect me from.”

“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.

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“No, I don’t read minds. I’m not interested in your secrets.”

It hurt, a little, the way his emotions went from amusement to not-quite-fear. She hadn’t realised she’d been hoping for acceptance from Tony Stark, of all people. Stupid. The smile got a little more bent, fading from her green eyes.

“The world needs you. That’s all. Better you don’t die.” Unspoken, the word ‘again’ hung off the end of the sentence.

“Oh. Well that’s good. The last thing I need is all my secrets being found out.”

“Then again, that could actually be pretty fun. Having to deny all of those secrets knowing full well that I know damn well they’re true.”

He tilted his head slightly. Honestly, this kid had absolutely no idea, did she?

“The world needs me, huh? Well, let’s just say that I’m pretty sure the world would be a far better place without this particular Tony Stark.” He shrugged lightly, his gaze wandering for a moment. “With men like me, the world needs more heroes.”

“You don’t get to make that choice.” Her vision blurred for a moment, gaze falling out of focus. “Why do you say that?” A strange, neutral mask seemed to settle over her features.

She hated this. Now that he’d said that, she’d feel compelled to get to the bottom of it, to try to fix it if that was possible. Bad enough he was breathtaking, now he was a broken bad boy as well? Stupid, stupid, stupid and too late.

“Are you not making up now for your past?”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

Her mouth twitched, a bent-up smile. “No, it’s not going to end in ping-pong balls. It really is okay. I already know you’re laughing inside, so it’s honestly not going to bother me.”

She rocked back a step. “See, I’m an empath. I know what you’re feeling, and I can know what the people around you are feeling.”

Well. That… wasn’t good.

“Well, so long as you don’t also tell me that you can read minds I think we’re good. I wouldn’t be too happy with someone going about in my mind. I have secrets in there.”

“No, I don’t read minds. I’m not interested in your secrets.”

It hurt, a little, the way his emotions went from amusement to not-quite-fear. She hadn’t realised she’d been hoping for acceptance from Tony Stark, of all people. Stupid. The smile got a little more bent, fading from her green eyes.

“The world needs you. That’s all. Better you don’t die.” Unspoken, the word ‘again’ hung off the end of the sentence.

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“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.”

“Contrary to popular belief I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“Not all the time, anyway. Only sometimes. As for needing a bodyguard, well. That’s all up to speculation. While I don’t think I need one, someone else might think I do. Or is it the other way around.”

Finally remembering that his earbuds were still in he gently pulled them out of his ears, lightly crossing his arms.

“I had a girl tell me that once. It ended in ping pong balls. This isn’t going to end in ping pong balls, is it?”

Her mouth twitched, a bent-up smile. “No, it’s not going to end in ping-pong balls. It really is okay. I already know you’re laughing inside, so it’s honestly not going to bother me.”

She rocked back a step. “See, I’m an empath. I know what you’re feeling, and I can know what the people around you are feeling.”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

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.”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

“People-watching. Making fun of you. Why?”

Oh, this was fun. He was supposed to be the most witty, smooth man in the world, and it was so /easy/ to make fun of him.

She rolled over, tried to get up, planted one hand on the end of her long braid, and sat down hard. “Ow. Swear words.” The second attempt went better, and she stuck her hands in her pockets as she sauntered over to him.

He was a long way up to look. At least eight inches taller than she was. Maybe more like a foot. She rocked onto her toes, slightly, smirking.

“You waited here all morning just so that you could pick on me? I’m flattered.”

He watched as the woman attempted to sit up and…

No. No, he was not going to laugh, because that would be rude. He would, however, chuckle about it later should he remember.

Which he might. He tended to remember stuff like this for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of.

“… you… weren’t offering to be my bodyguard just now, were you? Because not only could you probably not keep up with me, but you’re kind of tiny.”

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?”

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

Funny. She arched an eyebrow right back. “No longer capable of protecting yourself? You could hire a bodyguard.”

Come to think of it, although she’d been joking, what exactly was Tony Stark doing, just … running? Didn’t that Tower of his have basically every amenity known to man, and some only known to, well, Tony Stark, in it?

She looked him up and down, grinning. “Or you could run away. You’re all set for that.”

He squinted slightly.

“I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. I just don’t necessarily want to, right now.”

“Why would I hire a bodyguard? That just requires that I have to run at the same pace as them. What if they go too slow? Then I’m making them do a shitty job because they can’t keep up with me.”

He shrugged lightly, looking around for a moment before he looked back at her.

“What are you even doing?”

“People-watching. Making fun of you. Why?”

Oh, this was fun. He was supposed to be the most witty, smooth man in the world, and it was so /easy/ to make fun of him.

She rolled over, tried to get up, planted one hand on the end of her long braid, and sat down hard. “Ow. Swear words.” The second attempt went better, and she stuck her hands in her pockets as she sauntered over to him.

He was a long way up to look. At least eight inches taller than she was. Maybe more like a foot. She rocked onto her toes, slightly, smirking.

supercilious-pariah:

iamthefirechild:

Watching other people run always made her think she should be running herself. She didn’t, of course, but it made her think she should. Laziness was an indulgence. So she indulged herself, sprawling belly-down on a blanket near the path, watching other people run.

Or, in some cases, not run.

He’d /been/ running. Dampness still stuck his hair to his neck, shirt to his chest. She drew her gaze down the rest of his body, then back up. Headphones. Arc reactor.

Arc reactor?

“Bit risky, just running around the city, with the number of people who want you dead, isn’t it?” she called to Tony Stark.

Well. That got his attention.

He blinked, looking around to try and figure out exactly who had spoken to him. The voice was vaguely, vaguely, familiar, and female. Which at least, he hoped, it meant it wasn’t a Loki. Because that would be bad. Like many things.

Like swooping.

However he soon noticed the girl… woman… girl?… female laying on a blanket, an eyebrow arched.

“… well it is now, seeing as you just reminded the general populace that it wanted to kill me.”

Funny. She arched an eyebrow right back. “No longer capable of protecting yourself? You could hire a bodyguard.”

Come to think of it, although she’d been joking, what exactly was Tony Stark doing, just … running? Didn’t that Tower of his have basically every amenity known to man, and some only known to, well, Tony Stark, in it?

She looked him up and down, grinning. “Or you could run away. You’re all set for that.”

supercilious-pariah:

It was… weird.

Running again, that was. He had started running a lot more since he realized that he was a few steps above the average Stark, just to make sure that he would stay that way. Of course dying had definitely put a damper on his running but now? He didn’t have a reason not to run anymore.

So he had started running again, starting from his Tower and then running until he felt like he was tired, then turning around and running all the way back at a quicker pace as if to tell himself to put up or shut up. His muscles ached, but that was fine. It seemed that even in death the deal kept.

Perhaps that was the only reason why he was alive in the first place. 

Maybe he had never really died?

It was an odd concept, but one that was drowned out for the most part by the fact that though he had stopped to take a quick break his headphones were still distracting him.

He wasn’t listening to music, though.

Exactly what he was listening to? He didn’t really feel like explaining.

Watching other people run always made her think she should be running herself. She didn’t, of course, but it made her think she should. Laziness was an indulgence. So she indulged herself, sprawling belly-down on a blanket near the path, watching other people run.

Or, in some cases, not run.

He’d /been/ running. Dampness still stuck his hair to his neck, shirt to his chest. She drew her gaze down the rest of his body, then back up. Headphones. Arc reactor.

Arc reactor?

“Bit risky, just running around the city, with the number of people who want you dead, isn’t it?” she called to Tony Stark.