Natasha Romanoff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deadlylittlespider) wrote2019-07-29 10:45 pm
deadlylittlespider) wrote2019-07-29 10:45 pm
Patch Ups
Malibu. It was the last location she had known him to be in. The house on the cliff. It was also away from anywhere anyone would think to look for her. So the location was ideal. If he wasn't there she'd break in, but she really hoped not to have to do that. She had no idea what systems he had set up here and wasn't ready to fight it all just to find a safe house.
The flight had been long and the flight attendants were starting to worry about her too much. She had cleaned up as best as she could, taped up with actual tap at one point, and had scampered, taking a flight to Malibu and a uber to Tony Stark's place.
She stood there at the front, having managed to get through the gate easy enough, but standing at the front door she stalled. Was this a good idea? She was pale, sweating and bloody, though she had hid the blood well enough in a stolen coat. She just needed somewhere safe to hide out for a bit. To... pass out, for a bit.
Her breaking in over the gate should already have caught his attention, but her buzzing the front door a few times would indeed bother him out of working to come answer the damn door. Or so she hoped.
If he wasn't here she wasn't sure what else she was going to do. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be standing much longer.
The flight had been long and the flight attendants were starting to worry about her too much. She had cleaned up as best as she could, taped up with actual tap at one point, and had scampered, taking a flight to Malibu and a uber to Tony Stark's place.
She stood there at the front, having managed to get through the gate easy enough, but standing at the front door she stalled. Was this a good idea? She was pale, sweating and bloody, though she had hid the blood well enough in a stolen coat. She just needed somewhere safe to hide out for a bit. To... pass out, for a bit.
Her breaking in over the gate should already have caught his attention, but her buzzing the front door a few times would indeed bother him out of working to come answer the damn door. Or so she hoped.
If he wasn't here she wasn't sure what else she was going to do. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to be standing much longer.
no subject
Her hand still held his wrist, keeping it still, the cloth he was using to dab at the wound hovering over it and fine for now. She should have let him finish with that first, but his words struck her into moving. The devotion and protection of the other was a lot. A hell of a lot.
The last person she knew that was this protective of her was Clint, and kissing him wasn't something she could do, family and all. He was more like a brother to her by now anyhow. A partner in crime. Tony was... different. They weren't 'partners' but they worked well together. She trusted him and he oddly trusted her, even after all the shit she'd put him through with S.H.I.L.E.D.
He spoke about the team again, not letting it go, but then spoke that HE wasn't going to let it go. It pulled at her heart, tightening in a grip. 'But you know what else?' he said, so close to her lips. "What?" She whispered, feeling his lower lip brush hers as he said it.
She deserved better too. She's not sure she believed that yet. There was still so much she had to clean from her records. And this, her past showing up like this? That proved there was still a lot to sponge from it all.
"You're doing that thing again, Stark. Being nice." She said softly on his lips, leaning in just a bit more to kiss him again, perhaps a bit more pushy this time, her hand keeping him held close by the wrist.
no subject
If it does. He's not complaining about any of this right now.
Honestly, he's not sure why he feels so protective towards Natasha, aside from the fact that they're teammates. She's half the fighter he is, and she doesn't even need protective armor to be dangerous. Of course he knows she doesn't really need his protection, but something about seeing her battered and scraped up makes him feel things he wasn't expecting. No one likes to see a friend hurt, so that's part of it, but the rest? It's strange, but he's only giving himself a headache trying to understand it.
He might not be Clint Barton, and he probably never will be as close as the two of them seem to be, but he can at least try to help when the opportunity presents itself. Which it's doing right now.
"I know I'm a colossal tool, but I have my moments, don't I?" It's a tease, but there's that annoying grain of truth contained in it. "Besides, you've had a rough day, so you deserve it." Her kiss silences him, though, and for a few seconds, he forgets all about running his mouth and just drinking her in. This will probably never happen again once she's recovered, so he figures he better enjoy it while it lasts.
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When he drops the cloth she does let his hand go, but just to move it to his upper arm a moment, her touch light. Still had blood under her nails and unapologetically a mess, but she wanted this strange moment of closeness. It was rare, and didn't come easy, and maybe it was his confessing his protectiveness to her that jumped the gun, but she wanted to let it linger a bit. The touch, the closeness, the safe place.
Maybe she lost more blood than she thought, or maybe she was just overly tired, but it felt nice. If only he realized how very rare it was for her to allow anyone to take care of her. Even for a little bit.
She broke the kiss again, still hovering close to his lips however. Eyes closed until she drew back a wee bit more, peeking at him. Her free hand coming up to touch his jaw, tracing his unique beard lines a moment. "You're not a tool, and you do have your moments. Aaand... it means a lot to me, that you're..." she paused, as if to try to find the right word. "... helping me." She said at last, then added, "trusting me."
Her fingers curled along his jaw and to his neck a moment, her guts twisting up in a knot. This is such a bad idea. It's such a bad idea to get close to anyone. Look what happened last time. She's going to be told to leave and she wouldn't blame him for it. "And I'm not just using you right now. I promise."
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If it's closeness she wants, he'll gladly oblige. He just wants her to be comfortable, to feel as safe as she can under the circumstances. But cleaning her up can happen after they've gotten close to each other, if that's what she wants. He's pretty much at her beck and call right now, and hopefully she's enjoying every second. Because like unicorn sightings, this is also fairly rare.
So, yes, he does realize what a gift she's giving him by allowing him to get this close. It's not something he plans to waste or take for granted.
"You know, I really appreciate that. Not many people have told me that before." He's been called a tool so many times, he thought about adding that on as a middle name. Except it really has a terrible ring to it: Anthony Edward Tool Stark. Just the thought of it makes him frown in disgust. "I'd help anyone who came to my place looking like roadkill." Wait, he said that out loud. She looks bad, yes, but roadkill? Too much. "Not that you do, of course."
And there he went, opening his mouth and sticking his foot in. "As for the trusting part, well- That's also what people on a team do." He goes silent momentarily as her fingers brush along his jawline and ghost over his neck. Tony's more or less the king of bad ideas, so if this is one as well, it can just go on the list along with all the others.
"I'm just going to say that I never thought you were, but also? If this is you using me, then consider me a willing participant." That attempt at a joke probably falls flat, but her touch is distracting him.
I have a laptop again! Tag ho!!
Still, he made a good point. This was as rare as a unicorn. This honest to goodness need for closeness. To be near anyone, let alone him. Clint was maybe the one person who could manage to get close, but there was a huge difference there. He was her best friend, and a married one. His wife? She was allowed in as well, but not like Clint. Steve was... well, she'd kissed him before, in a moment of hiding. He'd shocked her when he said he trusted her too. She didn't want to kiss him when he said he trusted her. This felt different.
The fact that it felt different was good, but also bad, right? She shouldn't want to be close to anyone, yet here she was, running fingers down his jaw and resting t his neck, looking at him as he explained that no one has ever told him ... what? That he's not a tool? That someone trusted him? There was a faint frown on her face at that, fingers curling at his chin, looking his face over for the honesty there. He wasn't any teasing there. Until he mentions looking like Roadkill.
She actually smiled about that, shaking her head and looking away a moment as he retracted the statement. "Roadkill, hmm?" She hummed, looking down at herself. God, she was a right damn mess. "It's not far from the truth, really." She let out a soft groan, relaxing a bit again. Okay, maybe she should let him finish cleaning her up.
"I've only just started to work well in a team, Tony. Most people would assume the Russian Master Assassin who worked on her own for so long couldn't be trusted in a team." Especially when at any moment she could flip the script on them for her or Fury's own gains. "You shouldn't trust someone like me." She said it flatly, with no heart or meaning at all. His joke does fall a little flat, but she lets her hand trace his jaw one more time, thumb rubbing a bit. "You have no idea if I'll stick around or if I'll disappear the moment you're done fixing me up."