Turn A Knife In Your Back Then Calling You Baby [@thegoldenironavenger]
Natasha grabs her phone, pressing the numbers in with a little more venom than she necessarily needs to. Taking a sip from her mug as she listens to the phone ring out, she curses her misfortune in vicious Russian once again. Of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. affiliates, she has to work with him. Again.
As the phone goes to voicemail, she exhales loudly, irritated. The first half of her message is delivered in her first language, venomous and almost unintelligible, but she corrects herself when she realises. “Call me. Now. You might have time to indulge in whatever you wish, but I have a job to do. One which unfortunately involves pandering to you. I mean it, Stark. You call back, or I will find you.”
Tony laid still on his side when his phone started to ring on the bedside table, he grunted into the pillow and kept his eyes shut.
“Sir, Miss Roma-“
“Shut up, JARVIS.”
The A.I. fell silent and he turned his head towards his phone eyes opening when his phone went to voice mail, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at how irritated Natasha sounded. Tony did not want to work with her again, not this soon at least. He wouldn’t have minded working with anyone other than her but of course SHIELD would be that cruel to him, secretly they probably enjoyed it.
He picked up his phone and rolled over to push his face into the side of Loki’s pillow and opened up a new text message just as the voice mail finished.
[txt] I suggest you come and find me, I’m not getting up for you of all people.
Natasha’s reaction to the text simply amounts to a pile of ceramic piled against the wall, coffee soaking into her carpet. Someone is going to be made to pay for this mission. She stands, hopping on the Harley she’s just purchased - her pride and joy, not to mention the envy of her apartment block - and making her way to the Tower. With a few brief nods at staff who recognise her from her time as Natalie, she makes her way upstairs, simply hoping that Loki’s away.
Striding through to the bedroom, she stands stoney-faced above the bed. “Get up, or I’ll break your fingers. One by one. Bone by bone, in fact.” It’s been a long time since she threatened someone properly outside of work, and it feels surprisingly good.
ironherrerox reblogged this from inheritorofmemories and added:
“Drowning my instincts? Right, no, this is how I’ve come to tolerate being the in the same room as you.” Tony rolled his...
inheritorofmemories reblogged this from ironherrerox and added:
“Just try and squash me. Drowning your instincts will only make it worse for you,” she reminds him, coming to lounge on...