This is how I show my love

[iron_ically]

In theory, his armor is supposed to protect him from any serious injury. It’s surprising how often it fails. Of course, it seems to be directly related to how often he gets blown up. Maybe that’s what should be surprising, or maybe not considering the mission he’s given himself: world peace.

Injury is the reason he’s running late, or being blow up is. Either way, he lands on the roof of his house with a less than graceful thud. He stumbles, scraping the knee of the suit against the concrete.

“Mr. Stark, shall I inform you guest that you’ve arrived?”

“Unless she’s gone deaf, she’s aware. Apologize for me and let her know I’m going to dress for dinner and be right with her.”

What he really meant was that he was going to clean up, bandage what needed bandaging, self-medicate with scotch then join her for dinner. Whether he’d be dressed appropriately or not was still up for debate.

Getting out of the suit had been a breeze; it was all automated. Getting out of the shower was going to be a problem simply because Tony loved his shower, particularly when he felt like he’d been dragged across miles of concrete. Oh. Wait. He had.

“JARVIS, have dummy bring me a scotch and assure the pretty girl that is hopefully still waiting for me that I do plan on keeping our date.”

She would forgive him, or at least he hoped she would. He actually liked this one enough to have more than one date. He liked her enough that he was concerned about pissing her off, enough that despite the fact he hurt enough to have scotch in the shower, he didn’t want to break the date.

It was, quite possibly, a first for Tony Stark.

Comments

[iron_ically]

"Hmm, I don't think that's going to help, but points for effort." Really, he'd rather her be more relaxed in his house, rather her be comfortable here. They spent a lot of time in his house because she didn't like being photographed with him. It was something he was trying not to take personally.

He nodded, poured his drink, took a sip and set it on the counter within reach for both of them then turned the oven on and let it heat up a moment as he got forks for the both of them.

"Every billionaire has to have a hobby. Mine is putting things together and making better things. Food isn't so different. Besides, JARVIS can't cook worth a damn."

Although honestly, he rarely cooked for himself. He ordered take out when he remembered to eat at all. He did, however, enjoy cooking for other people. It was a little like inventing things or putting something together. He started with a list of parts (ingredients) and if he was careful and did it all right he came away with something better.

[moderatelyfluent]

"Maybe I'll get you one anyway, for lack of anything else to buy. You pretty much fit the bill for the man who has everything." She didn't say it like she minded though, it was a challenge. Though she didn't know what it meant, that she was thinking that far ahead.

She didn't mind being photographed with Tony, personally. She minded being photographed with Tony Stark, billionaire playboy and Iron Man. She minded being labeled his newest fling and the fact that the photographers tended to follow her. To school. That she minded a lot. Which, she would happily explain if Tony's ego would get out of the way.

Taking a fork, she dug it into the appetizer, trying to get a chunk of everything on her fork before popping it all in her mouth. She chewed a moment and then sagged on the stool. "Oh my-- Tony, that is delicious. Your hobby is delicious."

[iron_ically]

He shrugged a bit at her summation of him. It wasn't like he could argue with her, at least not without exposing way more of himself than he was willing to at the moment. Tony did have everything material that a person could possibly own, but he was also very much alone. There was no one in his life that he didn't program or pay.

Did she realize who she was talking about? Tony's ego was always a problem and usually in the way.

He grinned at her exclamation over the dish. "I am very good at what I do."

[moderatelyfluent]

Well if Tony and Tony's ego really had a problem with Niamh's homebody tendencies then he could say something about it and she would happily explain. She was a teacher, she loved explaining.

She grinned back, she couldn't help it -- he was infectious. "Except modesty, you're flat out rubbish at that."

[iron_ically]

The next time he had a function, he'd mention it. He might even ask about it tonight as he's got something coming up on the calendar. She could explain to him.

"Who needs modesty when you're...well...me?"

The oven beeped, letting him know that it was heated. He picked the pan up and slid it into the oven.

[moderatelyfluent]

Niamh gave Tony such a look. Someone was not impressed, just not at all.

[iron_ically]

Tony chuckled. He got that she wasn't impressed. There was little use in hiding who he was though.

"So, outside of my tardiness, how was your day?"

[moderatelyfluent]

"It was... admittedly less exciting than yours, though also less violent apparently. I was vomited on twice." She frowned, trying to think of anything else notable that happened during her day.

"We did colors today. You would be... pleased to note that the color combination most popular is red and gold." She was feeding his ego and didn't care, it was cute. Her kids adored the super heroes.

[iron_ically]

"They're still doing that? The vomiting thing. Have you checked them for alcohol consumption?" He was half joking, but only half. Tony knew absolutely nothing about kids. He hadn't even been much of a kid himself.

A grin spread over his face as she fed his ego. "Good kids. It's a very striking color combination."

[moderatelyfluent]

"They're kids, love, they tend to be messy. Although, you know... one of them had been hitting the grape juice a little hard. The lush." She didn't mind though.

She wrinkled her nose at his smile. She was such an enabler. But it was so cute, and the kids really did love him. "I do personally like the combination myself. When I was little I always wanted a ruby ring, the ones you get in the little candy machines? I never got it, just 15 blue ones."

[iron_ically]

'Better stage an intervention. It's best to get them early." He took a sip of his scotch and a bite of the crab stack.

He liked being enabled! It was fun and it made him feel comfortable. "One of the big gaudy ones that go from knuckle to knuckle?"

[moderatelyfluent]

"Can you even imagine that. An intervention with a couple dozen seven year olds. Oh god, with wee little index cards." She put her head down, giggling into her arms. That would be hysterical. After a couple seconds, her head popped back up.

"Noo, one of those wee little ones-- well, they're little now, so I s'ppose a bit big. Not like Kardashian big, though. That's..." She wrinkled her nose. "That's gross. Anyway, I've not seen one of those machines in ages. At least not with rings, just those sticky hands."

[iron_ically]

Tony watched her, thoroughly amused by her. "And cups of bad coffee. They always have bad coffee at an intervention. It's like no one thinks to bring the good coffee. That'll somehow derail things, or maybe it'll just force an intervention over coffee as well."

He pondered that a moment, fingertips ghosting over his beard before he responded. "You know, you've got a point. I don't think I've seen one in a while either."

[moderatelyfluent]

"I've never been to a proper one, just seen 'em on TV. They've got horrid coffee at AA meetings though, so I can imagine. Dad used to say if you could live through one of those cups, you could live another day without a drink. And he was sober... sixteen years? So it must have worked." Her faint Irish lilt became a bit more pronounced when she talked about her father. She missed him.

Shifting slightly, she finally shrugged out of her jacket, setting it on the stool beside her. "Alas, they've gone the way of the pay phone and the do-do bird."

[iron_ically]

"I've actually had one staged for me. Or two...maybe three, but it's hard to tell." He took a sip of his scotch, a bite of the appetizer and sat down on the stool next to her. "Sobriety is one of those things that don't sound like much fun."

"Oh, I wouldn't say they're extinct. Just harder to find, which makes it a challenge."

[moderatelyfluent]

"No I don't think it sounds like much fun either." Niamh scooted forward on her stool a little, pressing her toes against the stretcher of the to lift her up a little. She leaned forward and kissed Tony, softly at first and then a little more forcefully. "Thank you, for making dinner."

[iron_ically]

His hand went to the small of her back, holding her more stably against him as he returns the kiss.

"You are very welcome," he whispers before kissing her again.

[moderatelyfluent]

She hummed out a little noise of contentment, putting her hands on his knees, fingers pressing into his legs. She leaned forward a bit more. She didn't mind continuing kissing him, she didn't mind that at all. She wasn't incredibly forward, even being raised with boys, so she was content to let Tony take the lead in cases like this. He was good at it, bossy.

[iron_ically]

Why yes, he was bossy and he liked to think he was good at taking the lead, not to mention kissing. He presses his toes into the floor, giving himself more leverage so that neither of them end up slipping.

He slid one hand up, fingers going to take her hair down and let it cascade over her back while he kissed her. They had a few minutes until the pasta was done.

[moderatelyfluent]

Niamh's hands crept a little higher on his thighs, only to keep her balance though, she didn't intend to do it, simply centering her balance as she leaned more into their kisses. She liked the feeling of his hands on her skin when his hand traveled up to tug her hair free.

[iron_ically]

Whether she intended on doing anything or not, the result gets a groan out of him, stifled softly against her lips. He leaves his hand on her back, just on top of her shoulder blades, palm flat against her bare skin. His other hand rested at the small of her back to keep her close. He had no intention of aborting this makeout session prematurely.

[moderatelyfluent]

He might not have intended it, but his groan made Niamh pull back, brown eyes worried and full of concern. "Are you okay, did I hurt something?"

Because he had been hurt earlier, she hadn't forgotten, nor did she want to cause him any extra pain. Her fingers loosened their grip slightly.

[iron_ically]

He looked a little dazed when she pulled back, but fairly quickly recovered. "No. No. You definitely did not hurt me." Yes, he had been hurt and still was, but he was numb enough with scotch and kissing that it didn't matter much.

"Although, I do think I felt better when you were kissing me."

[moderatelyfluent]

His answer made her laugh, shaking her head a little. But she would never be accused of making him feel worse if he didn't deserve it, so she pushed back into for another kiss. Her hands moved up his legs on purpose this time, fingers squeezing gently.

She was sweet really.

[iron_ically]

His touch and his kiss was more urgent this time, needy and filled with want. He twirled her hair around his fingers, and stood up a bit more, his knees on either side of her legs as he pulled her body flush against his.

The sweetest.