It's a Terrible privilege.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Shouldered with a terrible privilege.

[koipepo]

“I will never regret this friendship, Tony. I will never regret meeting you.

Ever.”

[musicalluna]

ok but the first time natasha and tony are sparring and tony throws a punch natasha doesn’t catch soon enough and he clocks her so hard her mouth is bloody

imagine their faces

[tonyglowheart]

I’m imagining they go for drinks or something afterwards and Natasha preens like a proud mama bear

[savedbythenotepad]

#“he’s so grown up look at what he did”#*wears her injured lip proudly* (via @rendingrosencrantz)

This is definitely what Natasha would do.

[musicalluna]

# oh my god tony would go full on panic mode# like he’ll reach out to her face and want to comfort her# but pull them back because gdi he hurt her# nat’s just impressed# brotp: tony & nat  (via @tonyfujikawa)

i am literally so on board with both of these omg. i feel like tony would be simultaneously excited/delighted and horrified and he’d keep waffling back and forth between being like OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY and HOLY SHIT I PUNCHED THE BLACK WIDOW IN THE FACE AND LIVED I AM TELLING LITERALLY EVERYONE THIS IS GOING ON MY RESUME 

and natasha is simultaneously exasperated/amused and PROUD AS ALL GET OUT because hell yeah that was a punch and secretly a tiny bit relieved because now she can relax slightly knowing tony can hold his own and she’d just be grinning all over the place with terrifying bloody teeth

i imagine thor clapping tony so hard on the back he almost breaks him because he’s so happy for tony and proud of him for his new skillz

I AM JUST LOVING THIS SCENARIO

[musicalluna]

#let’s be real #tony would also be fucking ecstatic #“i FUCKING GOT HER FUCK YEAH LOOK AT THAT LOOK AT MY KNUCKLES” #people start giving him side eyes for obvious reasons (via @thegoldenavenger)

OMG YES

[viudanegraaa]

#i am so on board with this#because natasha really cares about tony and his safety#even if she doesn’t always show openly#so even if it means he gets a whack at her face#she’s comfortable knowing that tony is fine without his armor#besides if you can punch NATASHA then you’re basically on top of the world#i bet the rest of the avengers were worried when it happened the first time#but we’re so surprised when natasha grinned and pulled tony into a hug#tony screaming because he thought natasha was going to drag him into her thighs of death#brotp#tonynat#tonynatasha (via @saved-by-the-notepad)

FUCKING SIGN ME UP. SIGN ME TF UP. NATASHA/TONY BROTP 2KFOREVER

Ok but Natasha rattling off to Bucky in Russian, “this motherfucker actually punched me,” & Bucky just looks at her, “get the fuck out, no he didn’t. Are you sure it wasn’t Steve,” says Bucky jokingly. 

“No, idiot, we were sparring.” 

“AND HE DECKED YOU? Well, shit… I owe Stark an apology. I’m sure he’s fucking happy.” “Oh yeah, I bet he’s told everyone by now,” says Natasha but she can’t help but grin as she holds an ice pack to her busted lip.

[thegoldenavenger]

[musicalluna]

IM SCREAMING. OMG

[polizwrites]

The sketch made this even better!

[n-r0man0va]

Look @terrible-privilege it our Muses!!!

[marvelgifs]

[terrible-privilege]

“Are you telling me I’m not? A villain? I mean I’d like to think that I’d at least qualify for super-villain, but that’s semantics.” Tony barely glanced at the bloody shards he’d already pulled out of his arms, scattered across the table as he flung them away with each pull. He expected an arrest order, or at least detainment by Hill, perhaps under Fury’s suggestion. 

“We just blew up a city and you’re telling me you’re not hungry?” He laughed, a quiet, strained thing, and pulled a few pizzas at random off the menu that Friday pulled up and waved them off to have her put the order in. He didn’t mention that she held herself differently - just slightly, nowhere near what anyone would normally see, but he bet that it was much the same emotion that was probably a lot clearer on his own face. The Scarlet Witch’s…Wanda’s (entirely scientifically explainable) magic still haunted Tony, and he hadn’t slept since that day in Sokovia. Seeing Natasha, in front of him, alive, was a good attempt to banish the image of her dead body lying against chitauri steps.

[n-r0man0va]

“You’ve met Loki, you created Ultron,” she shook her head, “you’re far from a villain, Stark. Although, the latter could maybe put you on the list of “Potential Villains.”

She shrugged, “blowing up cities doesn’t exactly excite hunger within me. Actually, it kind of turns me off to the whole idea.”

She closed her hand into a fist, leaving the rest of the pieces of the lab untouched by her. She didn’t need a physical reminder of how broken everything was. The steady beat of her heart reminded her enough.

Leaning against the nearest counter, she slowly folded her arms across her chest. “What do you think happens next, Stark?”

It was a loaded question - one that she wasn’t even certain had an answer - but it was one that had haunted her since they had left Barton’s farm.

[terrible-privilege]

“Yeah, well, if Loki is what i have to look at, I’m probably not in great shape. I mean, have you seen how many Defining Characteristics we share?” He grinned, for a moment, a real, crooked thing. “Right up to the Unattainable Standard of Perfect Blond Hero!” Okay, so he was probably a little delirious on lack of sleep and a few too many painkillers, but hey. Natasha was great at keeping secrets. She would use them against you, if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t give them out to anyone. Except maybe Clint. But he was wearing a suspicious lack of friendship bracelet, lately, so maybe not anymore.

“Fair enough. I don’t remember the last time I ate something, so four pizzas should do.” He honestly couldn’t remember what the Tower looked like not a week ago, a quiet party bringing it to life. It was a monument of crushed glass, now. A reminder that every time Tony tried to make something for himself, a home, friends, anything, it always shattered in his face.

“Next?” Tony turned to look at her, swallowing, having avoided the question until then. “I spend whatever time I have left trying to bring back Jarvis. I expect some government is going to want me punished, if they find out. Then again, people thought Hammer could have arc tech, so maybe I’ve got longer than I thought. I imagine Cap’s off to start his new Adopted Strays project.” Tony didn’t mention that he was probably not invited. That, oh how the tables had turned, and he was now the useless one. Or perhaps too useful, and extremely dangerous. “What about you? What’s next for you?”

[n-r0man0va]

“If it makes you feel any better, Stark, you’re far better looking than Loki. Although,” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “He does have that who Asgardian accent going for him. And there’s the whole him being a god thing. On the other hand, he’s also known to throw tantrums that tend to almost bring about the end of the world. So, yeah.” She nodded. “I’d pick you. Every time.”

She decided not to point out the fact that she didn’t plan on eating. That she couldn’t eat. That the mess of emotions rollercoasting their way through her body made it impossible for her to eat.

“Can JARVIS be brought back? I mean, isn’t he Vision? And besides, don’t you have your girl FRIDAY now?”

Natasha was intelligent, but even she didn’t understand the inner workings of Stark’s AI’s.

She shook her head, “no one’s coming for you. No one’s every going to come for you. No matter how much you want them to. No matter how much you need to be found worthless, just so you can go look in a mirror and tell yourself your father had been right. He wasn’t. He isn’t. The world needs you, Stark. Far more than they ever needed your father and far more than you ever needed him.”

Natasha glanced down at her perfectly manicured nails, for what felt like hours, before glancing back up at Stark. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Cap wants me to help him run the Avengers Facility. Fury wants me to go after Banner. And Hawkeye wants me to fucking babysit.”

“Next” had always been such a loaded word to Natasha. Mostly because “next” hadn’t always been her choice. And now that the choice was hers, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it to be.

[terrible-privilege]

“Ha. Well, I did always pride myself on my good looks. Did you know there’s a Tony Stark cologne? Smells like car oil, singed cloth, and sweat. Probably blood too, but maybe they just called that ‘sharp iron’.” She probably did know. She probably knew everything about him that there was to know. She definitely knew more about his dad than he ever did. 

“I’m not…quite sure. I mean, yes? No? Vision isn’t Jarvis. He doesn’t treat me the same, for a start. I’d like to think that no matter how crazy I am, Jarvis will still love me. Jarvis was an AI, and Vision is…as far as I can tell…not? And Jarvis dumped all of his data when Ultron tried to kill him, so he’s…he’s gotta be out there.” Tony Stark may be a proponent for change, and an advocate for human advancement, but he was also possessive as all hell. Not sentimental. Just viciously protective of what’s his. “Friday’s great - you’re awesome, Friday - but she’s not Jarvis.” There was a lot that went unsaid with a sentence like that, but he trusted Natasha to figure it out, if anyone else could.

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. Perhaps he was needed. But he had also proven just how dangerous he was. Just how much terror took hold of him and overrode all other sense. Just how fucking terrified he had been of losing what he thought was a family. He may have lost it anyway in his desperate attempts to save it, haunted by ‘Why didn’t you do more?’ “Maybe someone should,” he said, more to his forceps than to Natasha.

“Sounds like everyone has a job for you,” Tony said, looking up at where she stood, and gesturing to a chair that was less full of glass than the rest. “Though the babysitting one sounds like the worst by far.” He shrugged. “If none of those employment options sound good, well. Your access codes don’t expire. And I’ve got…well, it needs a little fixing, but I’ve got the best anti-paparazzi tech there is.” You can stay here and no one will bother you. Except me, of course. But perhaps that was presumptuous of him - she was probably less wanted than him, and she certainly hadn’t gone off the rails when Wanda did…whatever she did. 

He put the tools down for a moment, hesitated, and then picked them back up. “What did…Wanda…do to you?” It was barely a whisper of breath, and his hand was clutched around the forceps so tightly his knuckles went white.

[n-r0man0va]

“I own a bottle or two,” Natasha replied shrugging. “And it definitely doesn’t smell anything like blood, Stark. Surprisingly though, it does smell an awful lot like you.” The smallest of smiles played at the corners of her mouth. “You sold your sweat on EBAY, didn’t you?”

Natasha listened to Stark ramble on about JARVIS and understood all the things he wasn’t saying. JARVIS loved Tony for exactly who and what Tony was. He never asked him to pretend to be something he wasn’t. He never required him to be someone he wasn’t. JARVIS loved Tony completely. The good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, and Tony missed that. Tony needed that.

Natasha understood that need, even if she couldn’t remember ever feeling it.

She sighed. “Stark, if you want me to arrest you, if you want me to lock you away in some super secret jail cell - just ask. I still know people. Hell, I even know the wannabe new head of HYRDA. One phone call and I can have you shipped away, never to be heard from again.” Her eyes leveled with Stark’s. “Just know, if I make that call, if I do that, it’s not because someone wanted it to happen, it’s because you wanted it to happen.” She shook her head. “You’re better than all this self-doubt and self-pity, Stark. I know it, and I know you know it too.”

Tilting the seat Stark offered her forward, she watched as the broken shards of glass tumbled to the ground. They looked beautiful reflected in the sunlight, until she lifted her head and again saw the damage they were a part of.

“People think the Avengers are an idea, but I never saw them as that. I saw the Avengers as a group of specific individuals. Us, Thor, Cap, Hawkeye, Hulk.” She shook her head again. “Cap’s heart is in the right place and his idea is solid, but it’s his vision and I don’t see it like he does.”

She laughed at the idea of her babysitting. She loved Hawkeye’s children as if they were her own flesh and blood, but that’s where it ended. She didn’t want to have a hand in raising them. That she’d always leave to their parents.

She smiled. “Thanks, Stark. I may just take you up on that offer.”

Her mind had already accepted his offer. Knowing that, at least for now, staying at the tower with Stark was exactly where she wanted to be.

Her eyes closed at Tony’s question, weighing her options. She knew she didn’t have to to tell Stark what she saw. That he would accept that she didn’t want to tell him, and leave it at that.

Opening her eyes, she glanced down at Tony’s hands, before raising her gaze to his. “She showed me my past. And in doing so, she reminded me that I’m a monster.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “And not for the reasons I let Banner believe, but because I chose to not be one of the breakable ones. I chose to kill instead of be killed. I chose to be one of - no, I chose to be the best. I refused to fail. I refused to disappoint. She reminded me that my nightmares are all of me.”

[terrible-privilege]

“Absolutely not,” Tony huffed. “It must have been one of those crazy reporters from back before Afghanistan. At least they’re dedicated to accuracy, though I don’t know who would wear it and also know what I smell like. You don’t wear it, do you?” His eyebrow was quirked in amusement at the notion that she owned that cologne.

“Yeah yeah, you know how it is. Haven’t had a scotch in a day or two, haven’t talked to anyone except Friday, etcetera etcetera. It almost sounds like you want to get me hired for the villains.” Alcohol and pain meds didn’t exactly mix, and although Tony usually ignored those kinds of warnings, he’d been on a lot of pain meds for a while now.

“Cap is a Gryffindor - what he says is just is right, and nothing can change his mind. Luckily, for the most part, those have been good things. Sort of.” Steve hadn’t been the same since the whole debacle with the winter soldier, and Tony couldn’t help but wonder if he was in such a hurry to train his shiny new team to go hunt down his old friend. 

Tony shrugged. “It’s not like I can take up twenty floors by myself.” It had been too quiet with the Avengers gone. A solitude he’d more than likely have to get used to. As usual.

“You chose to survive,” he pointed out. “And it led to you saving the world. A couple of times. I’d say it was a pretty good choice.” He shuffled the bloody glass shards around on the table, pushing them into indecipherable shapes. “She showed me my worst fear. That all of you died because of me. That I didn’t do enough.” That dark pit, those glowing steps, his dead friends. Another neat image tied up into a bow to haunt him for the rest of his life, along with flying into a wormhole and Yinsen. 

[n-r0man0va]

“Stark, you used to get around, remember? If you didn’t sell your sweat on EBAY, maybe one of your many conquests did.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I do. Maybe I miss you when you’re not around.”

And she did. They had a bond, an understanding, that Natasha didn’t have with anyone else. It ran deeper than trust and respect, and it wasn’t written in an owing of debts. It was something coated in blood and guilt and self-doubt.

“You hate yourself too much to ever be a villain, Stark.” She said, sliding into the now glass free chair. “You wouldn’t last a day.”

She sighed. “Steve’s a good man. One of the best. It’s easy to trust and believe in him. It’s easy to lose yourself in him. To see yourself as worthy, as a hero, as his equal.” She shook her head. “But then you wake up and remember you’re you and not him. That you’ll never be him. And suddenly, his cause isn’t yours anymore. His team isn’t yours anymore.”

It wasn’t that Natasha disagreed with what Steve was doing. The world needed the Avengers more than ever. But the Avengers weren’t really the Avengers to her anymore. They were… Team Captain America.

Her face dropped as if offended. “That’s why you want me to stay here? Because you have twenty unused floors?” She frowned. “And here I thought it was because you liked having me around.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t survival. It was selfishness. It was a desire, a need, to be the best. It was a fear of failure.”

Natasha watched Stark move the glass around on the table, as he spoke.

“Tony,” she said softly, once he had fallen silent.

She opened her mouth a handful of times, but found herself at a loss for words. How do you convince someone their not responsible for something that hadn’t happened?

She stood up from her chair and walked over to him. “We’re not dead, Tony.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him.

[terrible-privilege]

Tony laughed, a quiet, beaten little thing, at the thought that he had tried so hard to push everyone away all his life, that when he finally gave up and tried to do what the world needed (and would likely get him killed), that it was then that people started missing him. He hadn’t thought he’d gotten any easier to get along with, just that he had stopped being an asshole in increasing his body count. Though even that hadn’t quite happened - it just happened to be alien kills and not human casualties. Did that make it better?

He froze when she wrapped her arms around him, a little startled but more in shock at how much he had needed the touch, the comfort of a friend. He’d thought his list of friends had shrunk to five after the recent events (Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Friday and Jarvis). It was...kind of shattering, to realize he still had Natasha. “No, but you could have been, and it would have been my fault anyway.” Perhaps just how afraid he was had been lost on Steve, the unflappable golden boy of America that he was. Perhaps losing everyone you knew, loved or hated, made you unafraid of dying for a cause. Perhaps Tony was just selfish and weak, like his father had always said. He reached up, squeezed Natasha’s arm gently, and moved to disengage himself. As much as he reveled in the comfort of touch, it was...easier, to step back into the old Tony’s shoes, the Tony who couldn’t be hurt by anything.

“Well, when you put it that way, I would like to inform you that I would absolutely last more than a day if I was doing it out of spite. I can do anything forever if it’s out of spite,” he huffed, half-laughing as he stood up slowly, moving slowly as if every bend of his muscles pained him. There was sweet sweet pizza waiting in the elevator though (Friday had buzzed his phone to let him know), so he went for it anyway, only half attempting to compose himself in front of Natasha.

“Well, I have twenty unused floors, and I’d like you in them. In the most innocent way possible. Or not, y’know.” He winked even as he stiffly bent to pick up the pizzas sitting on the takeout shelf in the elevator, bringing them back and dumping them on top of all the glass shards. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, though without alcohol he was more or less limited to sparkling water. “Thirsty?” He asked, reaching for a drink from the fridge. 

[terrible-privilege]

“Are you telling me I’m not? A villain? I mean I’d like to think that I’d at least qualify for super-villain, but that’s semantics.” Tony barely glanced at the bloody shards he’d already pulled out of his arms, scattered across the table as he flung them away with each pull. He expected an arrest order, or at least detainment by Hill, perhaps under Fury’s suggestion. 

“We just blew up a city and you’re telling me you’re not hungry?” He laughed, a quiet, strained thing, and pulled a few pizzas at random off the menu that Friday pulled up and waved them off to have her put the order in. He didn’t mention that she held herself differently - just slightly, nowhere near what anyone would normally see, but he bet that it was much the same emotion that was probably a lot clearer on his own face. The Scarlet Witch’s…Wanda’s (entirely scientifically explainable) magic still haunted Tony, and he hadn’t slept since that day in Sokovia. Seeing Natasha, in front of him, alive, was a good attempt to banish the image of her dead body lying against chitauri steps.

[n-r0man0va]

“You’ve met Loki, you created Ultron,” she shook her head, “you’re far from a villain, Stark. Although, the latter could maybe put you on the list of “Potential Villains.”

She shrugged, “blowing up cities doesn’t exactly excite hunger within me. Actually, it kind of turns me off to the whole idea.”

She closed her hand into a fist, leaving the rest of the pieces of the lab untouched by her. She didn’t need a physical reminder of how broken everything was. The steady beat of her heart reminded her enough.

Leaning against the nearest counter, she slowly folded her arms across her chest. “What do you think happens next, Stark?”

It was a loaded question - one that she wasn’t even certain had an answer - but it was one that had haunted her since they had left Barton’s farm.

[terrible-privilege]

“Yeah, well, if Loki is what i have to look at, I’m probably not in great shape. I mean, have you seen how many Defining Characteristics we share?” He grinned, for a moment, a real, crooked thing. “Right up to the Unattainable Standard of Perfect Blond Hero!” Okay, so he was probably a little delirious on lack of sleep and a few too many painkillers, but hey. Natasha was great at keeping secrets. She would use them against you, if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t give them out to anyone. Except maybe Clint. But he was wearing a suspicious lack of friendship bracelet, lately, so maybe not anymore.

“Fair enough. I don’t remember the last time I ate something, so four pizzas should do.” He honestly couldn’t remember what the Tower looked like not a week ago, a quiet party bringing it to life. It was a monument of crushed glass, now. A reminder that every time Tony tried to make something for himself, a home, friends, anything, it always shattered in his face.

“Next?” Tony turned to look at her, swallowing, having avoided the question until then. “I spend whatever time I have left trying to bring back Jarvis. I expect some government is going to want me punished, if they find out. Then again, people thought Hammer could have arc tech, so maybe I’ve got longer than I thought. I imagine Cap’s off to start his new Adopted Strays project.” Tony didn’t mention that he was probably not invited. That, oh how the tables had turned, and he was now the useless one. Or perhaps too useful, and extremely dangerous. “What about you? What’s next for you?”

[n-r0man0va]

“If it makes you feel any better, Stark, you’re far better looking than Loki. Although,” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “He does have that who Asgardian accent going for him. And there’s the whole him being a god thing. On the other hand, he’s also known to throw tantrums that tend to almost bring about the end of the world. So, yeah.” She nodded. “I’d pick you. Every time.”

She decided not to point out the fact that she didn’t plan on eating. That she couldn’t eat. That the mess of emotions rollercoasting their way through her body made it impossible for her to eat.

“Can JARVIS be brought back? I mean, isn’t he Vision? And besides, don’t you have your girl FRIDAY now?”

Natasha was intelligent, but even she didn’t understand the inner workings of Stark’s AI’s.

She shook her head, “no one’s coming for you. No one’s every going to come for you. No matter how much you want them to. No matter how much you need to be found worthless, just so you can go look in a mirror and tell yourself your father had been right. He wasn’t. He isn’t. The world needs you, Stark. Far more than they ever needed your father and far more than you ever needed him.”

Natasha glanced down at her perfectly manicured nails, for what felt like hours, before glancing back up at Stark. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Cap wants me to help him run the Avengers Facility. Fury wants me to go after Banner. And Hawkeye wants me to fucking babysit.”

“Next” had always been such a loaded word to Natasha. Mostly because “next” hadn’t always been her choice. And now that the choice was hers, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it to be.

[terrible-privilege]

“Ha. Well, I did always pride myself on my good looks. Did you know there’s a Tony Stark cologne? Smells like car oil, singed cloth, and sweat. Probably blood too, but maybe they just called that ‘sharp iron’.” She probably did know. She probably knew everything about him that there was to know. She definitely knew more about his dad than he ever did. 

“I’m not…quite sure. I mean, yes? No? Vision isn’t Jarvis. He doesn’t treat me the same, for a start. I’d like to think that no matter how crazy I am, Jarvis will still love me. Jarvis was an AI, and Vision is…as far as I can tell…not? And Jarvis dumped all of his data when Ultron tried to kill him, so he’s…he’s gotta be out there.” Tony Stark may be a proponent for change, and an advocate for human advancement, but he was also possessive as all hell. Not sentimental. Just viciously protective of what’s his. “Friday’s great - you’re awesome, Friday - but she’s not Jarvis.” There was a lot that went unsaid with a sentence like that, but he trusted Natasha to figure it out, if anyone else could.

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. Perhaps he was needed. But he had also proven just how dangerous he was. Just how much terror took hold of him and overrode all other sense. Just how fucking terrified he had been of losing what he thought was a family. He may have lost it anyway in his desperate attempts to save it, haunted by ‘Why didn’t you do more?’ “Maybe someone should,” he said, more to his forceps than to Natasha.

“Sounds like everyone has a job for you,” Tony said, looking up at where she stood, and gesturing to a chair that was less full of glass than the rest. “Though the babysitting one sounds like the worst by far.” He shrugged. “If none of those employment options sound good, well. Your access codes don’t expire. And I’ve got…well, it needs a little fixing, but I’ve got the best anti-paparazzi tech there is.” You can stay here and no one will bother you. Except me, of course. But perhaps that was presumptuous of him - she was probably less wanted than him, and she certainly hadn’t gone off the rails when Wanda did…whatever she did. 

He put the tools down for a moment, hesitated, and then picked them back up. “What did…Wanda…do to you?” It was barely a whisper of breath, and his hand was clutched around the forceps so tightly his knuckles went white.

[n-r0man0va]

“I own a bottle or two,” Natasha replied shrugging. “And it definitely doesn’t smell anything like blood, Stark. Surprisingly though, it does smell an awful lot like you.” The smallest of smiles played at the corners of her mouth. “You sold your sweat on EBAY, didn’t you?”

Natasha listened to Stark ramble on about JARVIS and understood all the things he wasn’t saying. JARVIS loved Tony for exactly who and what Tony was. He never asked him to pretend to be something he wasn’t. He never required him to be someone he wasn’t. JARVIS loved Tony completely. The good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, and Tony missed that. Tony needed that.

Natasha understood that need, even if she couldn’t remember ever feeling it.

She sighed. “Stark, if you want me to arrest you, if you want me to lock you away in some super secret jail cell - just ask. I still know people. Hell, I even know the wannabe new head of HYRDA. One phone call and I can have you shipped away, never to be heard from again.” Her eyes leveled with Stark’s. “Just know, if I make that call, if I do that, it’s not because someone wanted it to happen, it’s because you wanted it to happen.” She shook her head. “You’re better than all this self-doubt and self-pity, Stark. I know it, and I know you know it too.”

Tilting the seat Stark offered her forward, she watched as the broken shards of glass tumbled to the ground. They looked beautiful reflected in the sunlight, until she lifted her head and again saw the damage they were a part of.

“People think the Avengers are an idea, but I never saw them as that. I saw the Avengers as a group of specific individuals. Us, Thor, Cap, Hawkeye, Hulk.” She shook her head again. “Cap’s heart is in the right place and his idea is solid, but it’s his vision and I don’t see it like he does.”

She laughed at the idea of her babysitting. She loved Hawkeye’s children as if they were her own flesh and blood, but that’s where it ended. She didn’t want to have a hand in raising them. That she’d always leave to their parents.

She smiled. “Thanks, Stark. I may just take you up on that offer.”

Her mind had already accepted his offer. Knowing that, at least for now, staying at the tower with Stark was exactly where she wanted to be.

Her eyes closed at Tony’s question, weighing her options. She knew she didn’t have to to tell Stark what she saw. That he would accept that she didn’t want to tell him, and leave it at that.

Opening her eyes, she glanced down at Tony’s hands, before raising her gaze to his. “She showed me my past. And in doing so, she reminded me that I’m a monster.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “And not for the reasons I let Banner believe, but because I chose to not be one of the breakable ones. I chose to kill instead of be killed. I chose to be one of - no, I chose to be the best. I refused to fail. I refused to disappoint. She reminded me that my nightmares are all of me.”

[terrible-privilege]

“Absolutely not,” Tony huffed. “It must have been one of those crazy reporters from back before Afghanistan. At least they’re dedicated to accuracy, though I don’t know who would wear it and also know what I smell like. You don’t wear it, do you?” His eyebrow was quirked in amusement at the notion that she owned that cologne.

“Yeah yeah, you know how it is. Haven’t had a scotch in a day or two, haven’t talked to anyone except Friday, etcetera etcetera. It almost sounds like you want to get me hired for the villains.” Alcohol and pain meds didn’t exactly mix, and although Tony usually ignored those kinds of warnings, he’d been on a lot of pain meds for a while now.

“Cap is a Gryffindor - what he says is just is right, and nothing can change his mind. Luckily, for the most part, those have been good things. Sort of.” Steve hadn’t been the same since the whole debacle with the winter soldier, and Tony couldn’t help but wonder if he was in such a hurry to train his shiny new team to go hunt down his old friend. 

Tony shrugged. “It’s not like I can take up twenty floors by myself.” It had been too quiet with the Avengers gone. A solitude he’d more than likely have to get used to. As usual.

“You chose to survive,” he pointed out. “And it led to you saving the world. A couple of times. I’d say it was a pretty good choice.” He shuffled the bloody glass shards around on the table, pushing them into indecipherable shapes. “She showed me my worst fear. That all of you died because of me. That I didn’t do enough.” That dark pit, those glowing steps, his dead friends. Another neat image tied up into a bow to haunt him for the rest of his life, along with flying into a wormhole and Yinsen. 

[terrible-privilege]

“Are you telling me I’m not? A villain? I mean I’d like to think that I’d at least qualify for super-villain, but that’s semantics.” Tony barely glanced at the bloody shards he’d already pulled out of his arms, scattered across the table as he flung them away with each pull. He expected an arrest order, or at least detainment by Hill, perhaps under Fury’s suggestion. 

“We just blew up a city and you’re telling me you’re not hungry?” He laughed, a quiet, strained thing, and pulled a few pizzas at random off the menu that Friday pulled up and waved them off to have her put the order in. He didn’t mention that she held herself differently - just slightly, nowhere near what anyone would normally see, but he bet that it was much the same emotion that was probably a lot clearer on his own face. The Scarlet Witch’s…Wanda’s (entirely scientifically explainable) magic still haunted Tony, and he hadn’t slept since that day in Sokovia. Seeing Natasha, in front of him, alive, was a good attempt to banish the image of her dead body lying against chitauri steps.

[n-r0man0va]

“You’ve met Loki, you created Ultron,” she shook her head, “you’re far from a villain, Stark. Although, the latter could maybe put you on the list of “Potential Villains.”

She shrugged, “blowing up cities doesn’t exactly excite hunger within me. Actually, it kind of turns me off to the whole idea.”

She closed her hand into a fist, leaving the rest of the pieces of the lab untouched by her. She didn’t need a physical reminder of how broken everything was. The steady beat of her heart reminded her enough.

Leaning against the nearest counter, she slowly folded her arms across her chest. “What do you think happens next, Stark?”

It was a loaded question - one that she wasn’t even certain had an answer - but it was one that had haunted her since they had left Barton’s farm.

[terrible-privilege]

“Yeah, well, if Loki is what i have to look at, I’m probably not in great shape. I mean, have you seen how many Defining Characteristics we share?” He grinned, for a moment, a real, crooked thing. “Right up to the Unattainable Standard of Perfect Blond Hero!” Okay, so he was probably a little delirious on lack of sleep and a few too many painkillers, but hey. Natasha was great at keeping secrets. She would use them against you, if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t give them out to anyone. Except maybe Clint. But he was wearing a suspicious lack of friendship bracelet, lately, so maybe not anymore.

“Fair enough. I don’t remember the last time I ate something, so four pizzas should do.” He honestly couldn’t remember what the Tower looked like not a week ago, a quiet party bringing it to life. It was a monument of crushed glass, now. A reminder that every time Tony tried to make something for himself, a home, friends, anything, it always shattered in his face.

“Next?” Tony turned to look at her, swallowing, having avoided the question until then. “I spend whatever time I have left trying to bring back Jarvis. I expect some government is going to want me punished, if they find out. Then again, people thought Hammer could have arc tech, so maybe I’ve got longer than I thought. I imagine Cap’s off to start his new Adopted Strays project.” Tony didn’t mention that he was probably not invited. That, oh how the tables had turned, and he was now the useless one. Or perhaps too useful, and extremely dangerous. “What about you? What’s next for you?”

[n-r0man0va]

“If it makes you feel any better, Stark, you’re far better looking than Loki. Although,” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “He does have that who Asgardian accent going for him. And there’s the whole him being a god thing. On the other hand, he’s also known to throw tantrums that tend to almost bring about the end of the world. So, yeah.” She nodded. “I’d pick you. Every time.”

She decided not to point out the fact that she didn’t plan on eating. That she couldn’t eat. That the mess of emotions rollercoasting their way through her body made it impossible for her to eat.

“Can JARVIS be brought back? I mean, isn’t he Vision? And besides, don’t you have your girl FRIDAY now?”

Natasha was intelligent, but even she didn’t understand the inner workings of Stark’s AI’s.

She shook her head, “no one’s coming for you. No one’s every going to come for you. No matter how much you want them to. No matter how much you need to be found worthless, just so you can go look in a mirror and tell yourself your father had been right. He wasn’t. He isn’t. The world needs you, Stark. Far more than they ever needed your father and far more than you ever needed him.”

Natasha glanced down at her perfectly manicured nails, for what felt like hours, before glancing back up at Stark. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Cap wants me to help him run the Avengers Facility. Fury wants me to go after Banner. And Hawkeye wants me to fucking babysit.”

“Next” had always been such a loaded word to Natasha. Mostly because “next” hadn’t always been her choice. And now that the choice was hers, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it to be.

[terrible-privilege]

“Ha. Well, I did always pride myself on my good looks. Did you know there’s a Tony Stark cologne? Smells like car oil, singed cloth, and sweat. Probably blood too, but maybe they just called that ‘sharp iron’.” She probably did know. She probably knew everything about him that there was to know. She definitely knew more about his dad than he ever did. 

“I’m not...quite sure. I mean, yes? No? Vision isn’t Jarvis. He doesn’t treat me the same, for a start. I’d like to think that no matter how crazy I am, Jarvis will still love me. Jarvis was an AI, and Vision is...as far as I can tell...not? And Jarvis dumped all of his data when Ultron tried to kill him, so he’s...he’s gotta be out there.” Tony Stark may be a proponent for change, and an advocate for human advancement, but he was also possessive as all hell. Not sentimental. Just viciously protective of what’s his. “Friday’s great - you’re awesome, Friday - but she’s not Jarvis.” There was a lot that went unsaid with a sentence like that, but he trusted Natasha to figure it out, if anyone else could.

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. Perhaps he was needed. But he had also proven just how dangerous he was. Just how much terror took hold of him and overrode all other sense. Just how fucking terrified he had been of losing what he thought was a family. He may have lost it anyway in his desperate attempts to save it, haunted by ‘Why didn’t you do more?’ “Maybe someone should,” he said, more to his forceps than to Natasha.

“Sounds like everyone has a job for you,” Tony said, looking up at where she stood, and gesturing to a chair that was less full of glass than the rest. “Though the babysitting one sounds like the worst by far.” He shrugged. “If none of those employment options sound good, well. Your access codes don’t expire. And I’ve got...well, it needs a little fixing, but I’ve got the best anti-paparazzi tech there is.” You can stay here and no one will bother you. Except me, of course. But perhaps that was presumptuous of him - she was probably less wanted than him, and she certainly hadn’t gone off the rails when Wanda did...whatever she did. 

He put the tools down for a moment, hesitated, and then picked them back up. “What did...Wanda...do to you?” It was barely a whisper of breath, and his hand was clutched around the forceps so tightly his knuckles went white.

[terrible-privilege]

“Are you telling me I’m not? A villain? I mean I’d like to think that I’d at least qualify for super-villain, but that’s semantics.” Tony barely glanced at the bloody shards he’d already pulled out of his arms, scattered across the table as he flung them away with each pull. He expected an arrest order, or at least detainment by Hill, perhaps under Fury’s suggestion. 

“We just blew up a city and you’re telling me you’re not hungry?” He laughed, a quiet, strained thing, and pulled a few pizzas at random off the menu that Friday pulled up and waved them off to have her put the order in. He didn’t mention that she held herself differently - just slightly, nowhere near what anyone would normally see, but he bet that it was much the same emotion that was probably a lot clearer on his own face. The Scarlet Witch’s…Wanda’s (entirely scientifically explainable) magic still haunted Tony, and he hadn’t slept since that day in Sokovia. Seeing Natasha, in front of him, alive, was a good attempt to banish the image of her dead body lying against chitauri steps.

[n-r0man0va]

“You’ve met Loki, you created Ultron,” she shook her head, “you’re far from a villain, Stark. Although, the latter could maybe put you on the list of “Potential Villains.”

She shrugged, “blowing up cities doesn’t exactly excite hunger within me. Actually, it kind of turns me off to the whole idea.”

She closed her hand into a fist, leaving the rest of the pieces of the lab untouched by her. She didn’t need a physical reminder of how broken everything was. The steady beat of her heart reminded her enough.

Leaning against the nearest counter, she slowly folded her arms across her chest. “What do you think happens next, Stark?”

It was a loaded question - one that she wasn’t even certain had an answer - but it was one that had haunted her since they had left Barton’s farm.

[terrible-privilege]

“Yeah, well, if Loki is what i have to look at, I’m probably not in great shape. I mean, have you seen how many Defining Characteristics we share?” He grinned, for a moment, a real, crooked thing. “Right up to the Unattainable Standard of Perfect Blond Hero!” Okay, so he was probably a little delirious on lack of sleep and a few too many painkillers, but hey. Natasha was great at keeping secrets. She would use them against you, if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t give them out to anyone. Except maybe Clint. But he was wearing a suspicious lack of friendship bracelet, lately, so maybe not anymore.

“Fair enough. I don’t remember the last time I ate something, so four pizzas should do.” He honestly couldn’t remember what the Tower looked like not a week ago, a quiet party bringing it to life. It was a monument of crushed glass, now. A reminder that every time Tony tried to make something for himself, a home, friends, anything, it always shattered in his face.

“Next?” Tony turned to look at her, swallowing, having avoided the question until then. “I spend whatever time I have left trying to bring back Jarvis. I expect some government is going to want me punished, if they find out. Then again, people thought Hammer could have arc tech, so maybe I’ve got longer than I thought. I imagine Cap’s off to start his new Adopted Strays project.” Tony didn’t mention that he was probably not invited. That, oh how the tables had turned, and he was now the useless one. Or perhaps too useful, and extremely dangerous. “What about you? What’s next for you?”

[terrible-privilege]

“If I expected the worst of you, I would have locked the door,” Tony replied,  a slight twist of the lips and a raised eyebrow aimed at her. “Not that it would have stopped you, but it might have bought me a minute or two. But hey, let’s save the tying up for when I’m not full of glass.”

“Seriously though, food? Friday, get me a menu or five. The usual places.” Tony waved Natasha into the room, not quite sure why she was here and not with the rest of the Avengers, but not being openly against it - quietly, he was glad to see her.

“I’m sorry, boss. It seems that that information was part of a packet that Jarvis dumped. I have not recovered it yet.” Tony attempted to suppress a flinch at the words, aware of Natasha watching him, but it wasn’t entirely successful.

“Just get me a menu from the nearest pizza place that will deliver.”

[n-r0man0va]

“You and I both know you’d let me in, even if you knew I was coming to kill you. Not because you’d want to die - because you and I both know I’d succeed in killing you - but because you’d want to know. You’d want to know if I finally betrayed you or if you had finally stopped being a hero and had become a villain.”

Natasha cracked a smile, as if she knew a secret the world wished it knew, and stepped over the threshold into Stark’s workshop.

Everything was everywhere, evidence that Ultron had been real and not a terrible nightmare. She ran her hands over upturned tables and broken pieces of metal that so resembled what the Avengers had become. Before they had been organized chaos, now, Natasha wasn’t even sure they were a ‘they’ anymore.

“Everyone keeps trying to feed me,” she laughed, not looking at Stark. “Do I look like I’m starving or something?”

[terrible-privilege]

“Are you telling me I’m not? A villain? I mean I’d like to think that I’d at least qualify for super-villain, but that’s semantics.” Tony barely glanced at the bloody shards he’d already pulled out of his arms, scattered across the table as he flung them away with each pull. He expected an arrest order, or at least detainment by Hill, perhaps under Fury’s suggestion. 

“We just blew up a city and you’re telling me you’re not hungry?” He laughed, a quiet, strained thing, and pulled a few pizzas at random off the menu that Friday pulled up and waved them off to have her put the order in. He didn’t mention that she held herself differently - just slightly, nowhere near what anyone would normally see, but he bet that it was much the same emotion that was probably a lot clearer on his own face. The Scarlet Witch’s...Wanda’s (entirely scientifically explainable) magic still haunted Tony, and he hadn’t slept since that day in Sokovia. Seeing Natasha, in front of him, alive, was a good attempt to banish the image of her dead body lying against chitauri steps.

[terrible-privilege]

Tony would probably have been startled into pushing the glass in his forceps into his shoulder had Friday not told him that someone was at the door. He almost did, just from the shock of hearing Friday and not Jarvis. 

Natasha’s voice was a surprise, and his hands shook for a moment as he looked at the ruins of the floor, at the empty room, and at the very-alive assassin at the door.  

“Well, you know how it is, one minute you’re staying to exchange pleasantries, the next they’re putting handcuffs on you. Are you…here to do that?” he asked suddenly, spinning around in his chair and putting down the forceps in his hand. 

“Because if you are, I’d like to call some takeout. I’m starving. You want anything?”

[n-r0man0va]

“When are you going to stop expecting the worst from me Stark?” Natasha frowned, folding her arms over her chest. “You can’t still be bitter over that whole me stabbing you in the neck thing, because, if you want to get technical – you’re the one who lead a giant murdering alien worm over to me and called it a party. I think that should at least make us even. However, if you ask me, giant alien worm?” She shrugged, “just a smidge worst than saving your life.” She cocked her head to side, “handcuffs, really? If you wanted me to tie you up, Stark, all you had to do was ask.”

[terrible-privilege]

“If I expected the worst of you, I would have locked the door,” Tony replied,  a slight twist of the lips and a raised eyebrow aimed at her. “Not that it would have stopped you, but it might have bought me a minute or two. But hey, let’s save the tying up for when I’m not full of glass.”

“Seriously though, food? Friday, get me a menu or five. The usual places.” Tony waved Natasha into the room, not quite sure why she was here and not with the rest of the Avengers, but not being openly against it - quietly, he was glad to see her.

“I’m sorry, boss. It seems that that information was part of a packet that Jarvis dumped. I have not recovered it yet.” Tony attempted to suppress a flinch at the words, aware of Natasha watching him, but it wasn’t entirely successful.

“Just get me a menu from the nearest pizza place that will deliver.”

[dailymarvel]

Strike Team Delta

[lucifermorningstars]

No, throw it up, I’m kidding.

[terrible-privilege]

Tony was not subtle in the least after the battle at Sokovia. As soon as the city splintered to pieces, he was on his way out. Had his suit not flashed a life-sign in the water - Thor’s - he would have been in the next country. As it stood, he dove under, despite his very real fear of pieces of concrete tumbling down at him while underwater, and grabbed the god by the cape, pulling up until he could get his arms under him. Mjolnir wasn’t in his hand, but it wasn’t that much of an issue, and Tony focused instead on getting them out from under the raining debris. Steve was shouting something, but Tony ignored it, setting Thor down at the entry to the helicarrier’s pressurized rooms and making sure a med crew picked him up. 

They held the door for him, but he just shot off into the sky with a jaunty wave. 

“Friday, cut the radio chatter.”

“Yes, boss.”

And then it was quiet. No more Steve yelling, no Hulk roars to wake him from the nightmare - but this one was real - no Hawkeye to snark at him, no Natasha seeing right through him. He thought he’d had something. He thought he’d had a home.

It was clear how quickly a vision of the truth tore that to shreds.

So he flew home to his damaged tower, irritated at the Avengers A plastered on the side, tempted to set it aflame with a tank missile, but ignored it and set down on the landing pad. It was only after getting the last piece of armor removed from him that he realized just how many injuries he’d collected over the last few days, and he very nearly stumbled to his knees.

Instead, he went to his workshop, sat down heavily, and pulled up the towers’ systems. “Friday, find me…gather everything you can find on Jarvis. Find his memory dumps, his protocols, everything. I’d say his naptime is over.” 

“You got it, boss.”

He set about picking glass out of his shoulders as she started the work, and ignored the quiet stillness of an empty, destroyed tower. Fitting imagery, he supposed, for a man who had it all and yet nothing.

[n-r0man0va]

Banner had called them a time-bomb. He had said they were destined to exploded. And explode they had. Along with an entire city. Banner was lost to them. Barton had returned to the family Natasha had never been comfortable with knowing about. Nor after all they had been through. Not after all the broken promises they had made in the dark. Thor had returned to Asgard. Cap acted as if all was fine, as if he wasn’t haunted by things Natasha could see swimming behind his eyes. And then there was Stark, who unlike Banner wasn’t lost, just gone. Natasha has considered staying behind and helping Cap, but in the end, she found herself in New York staring up at the building that had, for a moment, felt like him. The doors still opened at her approached, which she took as a good sign. It meant Stark hadn’t removed her from his systems. At least not yet. She found him, picking glass out of his own shoulders, and she shook her head with a small laugh. Leave it to Stark to even make that look casual. Like picking glass out of ones own shoulders was something that everyone did daily. “You left without saying goodbye, Stark,” she remarked casually, leaning against the doorframe.

[terrible-privilege]

Tony would probably have been startled into pushing the glass in his forceps into his shoulder had Friday not told him that someone was at the door. He almost did, just from the shock of hearing Friday and not Jarvis. 

Natasha’s voice was a surprise, and his hands shook for a moment as he looked at the ruins of the floor, at the empty room, and at the very-alive assassin at the door.  

“Well, you know how it is, one minute you’re staying to exchange pleasantries, the next they’re putting handcuffs on you. Are you...here to do that?” he asked suddenly, spinning around in his chair and putting down the forceps in his hand. 

“Because if you are, I’d like to call some takeout. I’m starving. You want anything?”  

[terrible-privilege]

Tony was not subtle in the least after the battle at Sokovia. As soon as the city splintered to pieces, he was on his way out. Had his suit not flashed a life-sign in the water - Thor’s - he would have been in the next country. As it stood, he dove under, despite his very real fear of pieces of concrete tumbling down at him while underwater, and grabbed the god by the cape, pulling up until he could get his arms under him. Mjolnir wasn’t in his hand, but it wasn’t that much of an issue, and Tony focused instead on getting them out from under the raining debris. Steve was shouting something, but Tony ignored it, setting Thor down at the entry to the helicarrier’s pressurized rooms and making sure a med crew picked him up. 

They held the door for him, but he just shot off into the sky with a jaunty wave. 

“Friday, cut the radio chatter.”

“Yes, boss.”

And then it was quiet. No more Steve yelling, no Hulk roars to wake him from the nightmare - but this one was real - no Hawkeye to snark at him, no Natasha seeing right through him. He thought he’d had something. He thought he’d had a home.

It was clear how quickly a vision of the truth tore that to shreds.

So he flew home to his damaged tower, irritated at the Avengers A plastered on the side, tempted to set it aflame with a tank missile, but ignored it and set down on the landing pad. It was only after getting the last piece of armor removed from him that he realized just how many injuries he’d collected over the last few days, and he very nearly stumbled to his knees.

Instead, he went to his workshop, sat down heavily, and pulled up the towers’ systems. “Friday, find me...gather everything you can find on Jarvis. Find his memory dumps, his protocols, everything. I’d say his naptime is over.” 

“You got it, boss.”

He set about picking glass out of his shoulders as she started the work, and ignored the quiet stillness of an empty, destroyed tower. Fitting imagery, he supposed, for a man who had it all and yet nothing.

[terrible-privilege]

calling all Steve’s!

if you’re: 

a) disappointed in cap in aou

b) NOT disappointed in cap but would like to be

c) disappointed in tony

d) need a tony

or 

e) all of the above

hit me up! I’d love some rp and I desperately need a steve c:

[tsundereslasher]

Does anybody remember when I put a missile through a portal, in New York City? We were standing right under it. We’re the Avengers, we can bust weapons dealers the whole doo-da-day, but how do we cope with something like that? 

[terrible-privilege]

Guess who’s back, bitches.

[terrible-privilege]

Picking up the Pieces

[terrible-privilege]

By the time Natasha made it up to the top floors, Tony had moved onto tinkering with the arms of the suit, his arm covered in red and gold up to the shoulder, the repulsor humming in his palm. It was a subconscious decision to start tinkering with one of the weaponized parts of the suit, and he only noticed it once Natasha made her presence known, frowning at the movement that had been instinct. He’d been betrayed a few too many times, he supposed.

At her greeting, just like his back in Stuttgart, he couldn’t help but smirk lopsidedly and look up. “You look like you’ve been busy these last couple days. Found some pictures of you pretending to be married to Steve.” It had been amusing, watching that pop up on the internet, the night after it had happened. Some shrewd teenager had seen through their - admittedly shoddy - disguises and snapped some pictures for the rest of the world. 

"But you know it’s just not the same without you here. No constant danger, except for well…me." He looked up at her, putting down the screwdriver in his suit, the repulsor whirring in reply to the end of his work, pulsing with a hum in his hand. 

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

[n-r0man0va]

Natasha’s eyes travelled to Stark’s half-suited arm and the glowing repulsor in the palm of his hand. A normal person would feel hurt that Stark didn’t trust them. Natasha felt honored that was still able to instill some kind of distrust in those closest to her.

She smirked, “I thought dating Rogers would be good for me. Make the world believe I was turning over a new leaf.”

She had read some of the headlines herself. Most of them proclaiming the worlds deadliest assassin had left the world of murder and manipulation and had joined her “hero” boyfriend as an Avenger. She had even believed it long enough to help Rogers take down HYDRA and SHIELD alongside it.

She ran her hand along one of the many metal tables in the room, as she shrugged. “All my secrets are out, Stark. Not just some or most of them, but all of them. Every lie, every manipulation, every everything. Everyone knows everything there is to know about Natasha Romanoff.”

Which wasn’t completely true. Natasha’s secrets had secrets, and some of them were hidden so far down that even Natasha didn’t know them. But on the surface, she had become transparent. Everyone could see her for exactly who she was - which was whatever anyone had needed her to be.

She looked up at Stark, with his one arm covered in the armor he wore to become the hero he refused to be without it, and shrugged again. That was her way of letting him know that out of all the places and people she could’ve trusted, she had chosen him.

[terrible-privilege]

Tony snorted - they made a cute couple, sure, but he was absolutely positive that Steve was far too naive  and innocent for Natasha. And that his undying, unwavering patriotism, all of the time, would make her choke. It nearly made him sick, and he didn't spend all that much time with Steve in the first place.

He tracked her movement across the room with his eyes, watching her blend into the shadows of the dimly lit room as if she belonged there, even in her civilian clothes and out of her catsuit. Tony's desk lamp spread a small halo of light into the workshop, but the rest was illuminated by the blue in his palm and the muted blue in his chest. 

Tony would be lying if he said that JARVIS hadn't grabbed the information as soon as it was put live, taking everything that they did not already have and storing it in a file somewhere. Not that he planned to read it anytime soon, but...just in case. 

"So, you...what, came here to join the clubhouse of superheroes with their identities out to the public? It's not as fun as it seems, I promise. Mail all the time, and messages and emails and god knows what. You'll get sick of it real quick." He smirked crookedly, confused because she could have killed him in an instant, and yet here she was. Maybe JARVIS had gotten some incorrect information?