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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers!
Chapter Thirty One: Games People Play
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
~*~*~*~*~
Miri had never heard of Cherry Blossom before. The restaurant was in a large, square building with a bank of windows on the front that shone with light from inside. There were a few benches set around the doors and groups of bright green shrubs and bushes lined either side of the walk up to the doors. Phil's hand was warm against Miri's back as he escorted her through the door toward a hostess waiting at a black lacquer and stained wood stand. She smiled when she saw them and inclined her head in a slight bow. "Good evening and welcome to Cherry Blossom."
"We have a reservation under the name Coulson," Phil told the smiling woman. One red tipped nail traced a path down the reservation book before her, stopping on one line.
"Of course, Mr. Coulson. If you will follow me?" she asked as she picked up a couple of menus. She stepped away from the hostess stand and started toward the back of the dining room. Long black hair hung straight down her back in a graceful braid, the end tied off with a small ring of silk flowers. Miri recognized them as cherry blossoms. The same pattern decorated the kimono she wore, the pale pink buds bright against a background of white.
Miri let her gaze rake the interior as they followed the hostess. There was more of the stained wood under their feet and on the walls behind artwork that had been imported straight from Japan. The center of the floor was dotted with tables that held two and four and more. Their tops were wooden and those not being used were set with red napkins and sets of chopsticks. Light fixtures of the same red created a close, cozy atmosphere by limiting the amount of light that filled the space. Along the walls were booths separated by rice paper dividers to offer the diners sat there the illusion of privacy.
They stopped beside one of the booths and the hostess laid out the menus, quickly scooping up the extra napkins and chopsticks. Then she motioned them into the booth with a smile. "Please be seated. Your server will be with you shortly." She gifted them with a small bow, then disappeared and they were alone in their little alcove.
Miri glanced up at Phil to find him avoiding her gaze, so she picked up her menu and began looking through it. There was a touch of tension between the two of them, filling the space around them until she felt it dancing along her nerves. She found it odd because she'd never seen Phil ruffled or off his game. Nothing upset him like that. Ever. So to know that he was tense suggested he was nervous or worried. Miri pondered that for a long while, her gaze shifting over the menu slowly, until she finally realized that Phil was as nervous about their date as she was.
After a quick glance to ensure no one was paying them any attention, Miri slipped her heels off and casually lifted one foot until it could touch the section of sock between hem and shoe revealed when he'd taken his seat. The second her toe brushed against his sock and then slid up under his pant leg, Phil actually visibly jumped. He set the menu down and gave her a faintly sheepish grin. Yeah. He was totally off his game. "Miri?"
"Relax, Phil," she suggested softly. "We're both so nervous that I can cut the tension hanging between us with a dull knife."
He stared a moment, then huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Almost instantly, his shoulders drooped and he was as relaxed as he ever got. "You're right. This is ridiculous. I should not be this tightly strung."
Their server arrived just then, putting the conversation on hold. The young woman had wound her silky black hair into a bun at the back of her head. Like the hostess, she wore a kimono that had cherry blossoms painted on it. She carried with her a pad of paper and a pencil and her beautiful face was wreathed in smiles. "Good evening. My name is Kiyomi and I'll be serving you. Can I start you off with an appetizer?"
"Yes. We'd like the mixed sashimi platter to start," Phil replied easily. Any prior nervousness was gone, leaving in its place the sure and capable man she'd come to know and love.
"Very good, sir," she replied. Miri watched as she wrote something on the pad of paper with quickness and ease. "And to drink?"
"Sake. And two glasses of water," he told her. She nodded at that, again marking it on the pad of paper.
"Do you require more time to study the menu? Or have you made a decision?" Kiyomi asked them.
"I'd like the Udon noodle bowl," Miri told the young woman. She wrote it down on her pad before turning her attention to Phil. He gave one last glance at the menu before ordering the same. Kiyomi gave a hint of a bow and retrieved the menus, then hurried away to put their order in. When she was gone and they were alone again, Miri reached out with one hand and took hold of Phil's. "I have a confession to make, Phil."
"Oh?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.
"I was so nervous about this date thing. I might have panicked a little bit after you asked me out. Now I just feel kind of stupid about it," she told him, giving him her own sheepish grin to punctuate her words.
Phil shook his head. "I might have panicked a little bit after I asked you out, too. To the point that I went seeking advice about the date. I didn't want to screw anything up."
Miri smiled at that. "You wouldn't screw anything up, Phil. Apparently we've been dating for months. Just not out in the open. But if its any consolation, I had to seek out some advice myself. It feels so silly now, when we're sitting here and you look so handsome."
And he did. Instead of his usual dark suit, he wore a pale blue shirt under a dark blue suit coat. His pants were black, as were his shoes. The tie he wore was a silver blue with a midnight blue stripe pattern that brought out the blue in his eyes. And with the lighter color scheme, there came a new kind of relaxed that she didn't normally see on him. They were allowed to be seen together in public now, which was still something she was struggling to get used to. If his posture was any indication, Phil was enjoying their new found open relationship.
"And you look very beautiful, Miriam," he replied. She blushed at the compliment. She'd chosen something carefully with Astrid's words still ringing in her head. Sexy but not slutty. She'd ended up going with a little black dress that hugged her body. It had spaghetti straps that required a strapless bra. She'd paired it with black heels and a silver chain around her neck from which hung a dark purple amethyst. The stone darkened and intensified the color of her eyes. Matching earrings dangled from her ears. A plain silver bangle rested on her wrist.
"Thank you," she replied, voice open and honest. He smiled at her, turned his hand so that he held hers instead of the other way around. Kiyomi appeared with a tray holding two goblets of ice water, a small porcelain container, and two even smaller porcelain drinking cups. Each motion filled with grace and poise, their waitress transferred the items on her tray to the table before them. She carefully poured out a measure of sake into each of the empty porcelain cups, then bowed and disappeared again.
Phil reached out and took hold of his shot of sake. Miri mirrored his actions and tapped her cup to his when he held it out to her. The smile he gave her made her insides go soft and warm and she realized in that moment that she'd probably fallen in love with that smile the first time she saw it and hadn't even known. Phil was very good at sneaking up on people and surprising them. Based on his looks and demeanor, no one expected him to be anything more than an accountant. That was one of the things that made him so good at his job. "To the start of something beautiful," Phil announced quietly and brought the cup back so that he could sip his sake. Miri did the same in quiet awe.
The sake was strong, but not unfamiliar. She'd had it once before, some years ago at a restaurant in Tokyo. She'd been sitting across from Phil that time, too, but they hadn't been as close as they were now. "This reminds me of--"
Phil cut across her before she finished speaking. "Tokyo. About seven years ago. We were on an information gather. I remember you wore a very flattering black dress to dinner that night. You looked very beautiful."
Miri couldn't help the blush that rose to color her cheeks. Phil's smile was his most personal and intimate. Just like that, it felt like there were butterflies in her belly. She wasn't surprised that he remembered the mission. Phil remembered all of his missions. She was surprised that he remembered the dress she'd worn to that dinner. "It wasn't anything special," she replied softly.
"On the contrary, Miriam. It was very special," he told her. Her blush deepened. "And very memorable."
"Smooth talker," she said, struggling for something more intelligent to say.
Phil smirked at her. "Yes. But its not the only area where I'm smooth. And you know that." The intimation in his words was hard to miss. Miri found herself taking a drink of her water to cover her sudden inability to speak. But that didn't stop her from letting her foot slide slowly up his calf toward his knee. The move saw Phil's eyes going dark with understanding and, just like that, the tension that had been pulled tight between them was gone. She found herself leaning back in her chair, eager to see how the rest of the night would progress.
~*~*~*~*~
Phoebe rolled her eyes as Tony made a show of checking his watch. Again. He'd been so full of himself ever since he'd found out that Agent Coulson had asked Miri out on a date. In fact, she hadn't heard the end of it since his lunch with Agent Coulson a few days ago. She didn't bother to hide her annoyance with him as she studied the board between them. It was his turn, naturally, and he was stalling as long as he could. "Gloating does not become you," she told him pointedly. Tony just grinned and reached for the dice.
"You're just jealous because I managed to hook Coulson up with Miri and you didn't." She watched as he shook the dice in his hand, faint clicking sounds accompanying the motion. Phoebe rolled her eyes at him with much more force than she had the last time. He kept shaking the dice, kept smirking. Kept irritating her.
"Actually, I'm not. I don't believe in interfering with my friends' lives unless they ask me to or they're doing something that would qualify as dangerous and life threatening. Miri did neither of those things. I have every confidence that she and Agent Coulson would have sorted things out in their own time."
"Sure they would have." The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes told Phoebe that Tony had his doubts about that. She gave him a frown, then looked pointedly at his hand. The grin he gave her in return was one of those dangerous ones because it made her extremely annoyed with him and it turned her insides to hot, quivering jelly. Which was just as annoying as being annoyed. And he was good at doing both in equal measures.
"And what about you, Tony? Do you ever plan on taking me on dates? Telling me you love me? Asking me to marry you?" she asked him sweetly. Just to see him sweat a little. Tony did take her out, but often times to places that required a certain level of clothing and sophistication that always left her feeling slightly uncomfortable. Many such occasions were related to Stark Industries and, as such, didn't really count as dates. Just once, she'd like to go do something fun, where Tony didn't have to be Tony Stark. They could go bowling or to a movie or even just to a zoo.
The mention of marriage had a predictable reaction. His hand stilled and he turned serious eyes her way. She knew his views on marriage. They'd talked about getting married before, once or twice. And it wasn't that Tony was against making it legal. He'd been very adamant about that. He'd also told her that marriage wasn't something he wanted to just walk into until he was certain he had his shit together. And she not only understood that decision, she respected it. But that knowledge didn't stop her from mentioning it when she really needed to make a point. "Phoebe."
"I know exactly what you're going to say, Tony. And you know I agree with you. Its very important to your health and the health of our relationship that you deal with your issues. And that is entirely my point here. Maybe Agent Coulson had issues of his own that he needed to deal with. Maybe he wasn't ready to take the step required to make such a deep commitment to Miri. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn't ready to take that step, either. Did you think of that?"
The look he gave her said he hadn't. Not really. But he didn't defend his actions right off the bat, either. Instead, she saw him really think about what she'd just said to him. He was quiet for a very long time, which meant he was giving deep consideration to everything before he put forth his response. When it did come, it wasn't an unexpected answer. But she was proud that he'd put some thought behind it. "Maybe I shouldn't have stuck my nose into the middle of their affairs. Maybe I had no right. But it was plain to see that they were mooning over one another. How long should we have let that go on? Agent Coulson almost died in the helicarrier crash. If he had, she'd have never known how much he cared about her. There wouldn't have been a chance for either of them to share their feelings."
Phoebe held back a snort at the mention of sharing feelings. She had to practically force Tony to share any of his feelings with her, though he'd gotten better about it after the HYDRA attack. Still, hearing him talk about feelings was on the same level as hearing the pope talk about anal sex gang bang videos.
He saw through her feeble attempts anyway. "You may not think its true, but seeing what HYDRA did to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the helicarrier was enough to convince me to reevaluate my life and what having people in it meant to me. I don't ever again want to have to worry that I'm going to lose you like that." The underlying seriousness and fear in his tone sobered her immediately. She kept forgetting that he'd seen the worst of that situation. "They'd almost lost each other, Phoebe. They were pining. I just gave Coulson a nudge."
Phoebe frowned at him because she really couldn't argue with his logic. She still didn't like that he'd butted into their affairs and more or less forced Agent Coulson's hand in the matter. "You're such a busy body, Tony," she accused.
Her words earned her a knowing grin. He started shaking his hand again, started prepping his dice roll. She glanced down at the board, slightly embarrassed that he'd so easily made her forget they were playing a game, and felt a tingle of anticipation course through her. "I could be. Busy. With your body. I'm pretty sure you'd like that."
She stifled the urge to respond in the intended way, pushing down the shiver that wanted to climb up her spine. Tony always found a way to make game night more interesting and difficult than it should have been. "Stop trying to distract me, Tony. Its still your turn. Either play the game or forfeit. Quit stalling."
Her words saw him shooting her a look that suggested he was hurt. She knew better. They played this game almost every time they had game night, which was becoming a more frequent occurrence, and while Phoebe was good at holding out, she could only hold out so long before he found a way to get past her defenses. He smiled, letting her know he knew exactly what he was doing to her. But he didn't push. He gave one last shake of his fist, then dumped the dice onto the board between them. She was counting spaces before he even put his hand on his game piece. And her smile came long before he realized where he was going to land. Tony frowned, fingers still caught around the little metal car.
"You rolled ten. That puts you on Boardwalk and I have a hotel there. You owe me two thousand dollars, Tony." She didn't disguise the fact that she was gloating. She just watched as Tony looked at the board, then at the dwindling stack of cash in front of him. If he paid her the two thousand dollars, he'd be flat broke. The irony of that was not wasted on her. "Pay up."
"Come on, Phoebe," he began. She could tell he was going to try and cajole her, try and make her forget. She crossed her arms and nodded toward his tiny pile of fake money with her head. Pointedly.
"Pay up." She put one hand out to let him know she wasn't going to let him out of this one.
"Seriously?" he demanded, obviously in disbelief. He was incapable of losing with grace, which made game night so much fun for her.
"Hand it over, Tony."
They stared at one another across the game board, Tony attempting to distract her with his best puppy dog face. Phoebe held strong in the face of temptation, wiggling her fingers at him pointedly. There was no way she was going to let him out of this. No way at all. His face slid into resignation when he realized that she wasn't going to relent and he reached for the paper money laid out before him. It still took another moment or two for him to turn the last of his cash over, and he did so with a considerable lack of grace. "This doesn't make any sense. I'm the owner of a huge manufacturing corporation. You shouldn't be able to beat me at Monopoly."
"You're an engineer, Tony. You know how to build things. Its pretty obvious to everyone by now that Pepper is the one that runs Stark Industries. She just lets you keep your name on the building so she doesn't hurt your feelings."
"You're a cruel woman, Phoebe Sinclair. A cruel, cruel woman. Not only did you beat me again, but you were mean and rubbed my nose in it. Why do I still keep you around?"
"To keep you from getting such a big head that no one wants to be around you," she replied without a hint of remorse. Tony cocked a brow at her in disbelief. She heaved what was meant to be a long suffering sigh and put the back of one hand to her forehead in what she hoped was a dramatic fashion. "Its a constant struggle."
Tony stared at her for a second or two, the snorted and shook his head. "Do you hear this, Jarvis? My own girlfriend can't even show me respect in my own home."
"Miss Sinclair has a point, sir," the AI's cool voice answered. It sounded to Phoebe like there was a touch of smart ass in Jarvis' tone. Tony sighed, eyes rolling as he threw up his hand.
"No respect at all."
Phoebe smiled and rose from her seat, then made her way around the table to where Tony sat. He didn't argue when she slid her arm around his neck and settled herself in his lap. His arms came up and circled her, holding her close as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Since I won game night, that means I get to pick what I want to do. Right?"
He turned to look at her, gaze intent on her face. "Maybe. I guess that all depends on what you want to do."
Phoebe smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Then she turned her face so that she could put her mouth against his ear. Began whispering exactly what it was that she wanted to do. She felt him respond, his grip tightening on her as she laid everything out in plain, simple words.
No respect? She'd show him no respect.
~*~*~*~*~
Astrid's apartment was cluttered, stuffed with papers, stacked with books, and overrun by her inventions. Elsa was both intrigued and mildly frightened by the number of moving mechanical items. They rested on bookshelves and occupied the floor, some of them trailing after Astrid like robotic puppies. The other woman didn't appear to notice them, suggesting that her mind was either too occupied with other things or she was so used to it that she didn't even think about them anymore. One of them crept closer to Elsa, sniffed at her ankles, then strolled away. She was apparently no threat.
It was pleasant and homey, though, with a plush sofa and chairs to sit on. There were art prints on the walls, along with sturdy wooden tables. A pair of doorways opened into what Elsa suspected were the kitchen and the bedroom. It was small and cramped and felt completely like Astrid.
Despite the fact that they were inside a box, Thor seemed at home there and looked at ease in a t-shirt that fit snugly around the arms and pecs and a pair of jeans that clung to every inch of his legs and butt. Elsa blinked at her casual observations about Thor's body and decided that Alex had been a very bad influence on her. She allowed Astrid to pull her into a hug while Steve and Thor engaged in a round of hand shaking. "Forgive the clutter," Astrid said, then motioned to the couch. "Please. Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? A snack, maybe?"
There was a pad of paper on a low coffee table before the couch, a pencil left laying across its surface. Elsa could see that there were words scribbled on the surface of the paper, completely indecipherable. It looked like a list, but Elsa couldn't say what kind of list. For all she knew, Astrid could be making a list of supplies needed to make a nuclear weapon. She didn't think Astrid would build something so ambitious, but she wasn't confident enough to be sure.
"Oh, no. Nothing for me," Elsa replied, tearing her gaze from the mysterious list to look at the other woman. "Steve and I were going to go have dinner and maybe catch a movie. We thought you might like to come with."
"Oh, that's so sweet of you. But I don't know if I can spare the time. I've got to pack," Astrid told her. Elsa blinked at that. She was unaware that Astrid was planning on going anywhere.
"Pack? Where are you going?"
"I'm taking Astrid with me to Asgard," Thor informed them. "But plans are not completed. There is plenty of time to pack." The last was said to Astrid, Thor's face wreathed in an indulgent smile as he looked at her.
"I know that. But I figured I'd start now because I don't know what I should take and it'll probably take me that long to decide," she told him. He grinned and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Based on the way Astrid's cheeks pinked up, Elsa could well imagine what Thor had said to her.
"You're going back to Asgard?" Elsa asked, doing her best to keep her tone even. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Asgard must be like. She'd love to find out, but she suspected her chances of that were slim. The scientist in her was absolutely jealous of Astrid's trip to another world. Maybe she could convince Astrid to make videos for her?
"For a short time," Thor nodded. "And since my brother is still in hiding, I have no wish to leave Astrid unprotected."
"Well, since no one is going to Asgard tonight, how about the two of you join us for an evening out?" Steve suggested. His tone heavily implied that he wouldn't take no for an answer. He and Elsa had discussed it before leaving her place. It almost felt to her like everyone was drifting apart and something in Elsa had wanted to prevent it from happening. Steve had assured her that she was just imagining things, that every single one of them was bound together by the events they'd all been through and they'd never really drift apart. It had been his idea to ask Thor and Astrid to join them on their outing. She knew that he'd done so in order to appease her.
It looked as if Astrid was going to try and talk her way out of it. There was this expression on her face that said she was looking for an excuse to stay home. Thor must have seen it, too, because he reached out and touched her face with the tips of his fingers. "There'll be plenty of time to plan what you should take to Asgard, Astrid. Let's go out with friends and enjoy the evening."
She hesitated just a moment longer before giving a nod of her head. Her gaze dipped down for a moment or two, then came up again. Her cheeks were pink with a touch of embarrassment. "Let me go change into something else. I'll be right back."
"Of course. Take your time." Elsa smiled at her and watched as Astrid hurried off, hands already tugging at her overalls. She, Steve, and Thor made small talk while she was off changing, Elsa taking the opportunity to ask the Asgardian prince questions about his home. He answered with a smile on his face, obviously used to curious scientists trolling for all kinds of information. Steve sat back and let Elsa run with her questions. At least for the five minutes it took before Astrid rejoined them.
When the other woman came back, she was wearing a pair of capri length pants and a lace edged camisole under a sheer blouse meant to serve as a light weight jacket. She'd dragged her hair back into a pony tail and she'd tucked her feet into a pair of Keds. "Is this okay? Should I go change?"
"No, Astrid. No. You look very nice." It was Steve who paid her the compliment, prompting a new round of blushing from Astrid. Elsa leaned into him and bumped her shoulder against his. He bumped back to let her know he appreciated her silent praise. "So. Options for the night. Dinner first, obviously. After, though, is open. We'd originally thought of going to a movie, but I'm open to suggestions. Elsa?"
"Of course. We can do something else besides a movie, if that's what you want. We don't have to do anything fancy. Just a group of friends, kicking back and enjoying each other's company." She let her gaze slide from Astrid to Thor, then back again. Astrid glanced at Thor, who shrugged one shoulder in response.
"We could go out to Coney Island," Astrid suggested. Her gaze landed on Steve before drifting over to Thor. "You two could test your muscles on some of the arcade games. And there are rides. Since its Friday, there are fireworks. We could do everything out there. Eat, stroll, game."
Elsa looked at Steve. He stared back for a few moments before shrugging his shoulders. He was open to it. And, to be honest, Elsa was more inclined to do something like Coney Island than a fine dining type evening. "Sure. Coney Island is a perfect way to spend the evening," she said to the room. Astrid smiled at that, then moved to retrieve her purse. Elsa stood. Steve rose up beside her.
"I don't think I've been to Coney Island since before the war," Steve remarked.
"I've never been," Elsa admitted. Steve looked at her as if he couldn't believe it. He knew she'd lived her entire life in New York City. Then she motioned toward Thor. "Unless Astrid's taken Thor, he hasn't been, either. This is going to be a new adventure for both of us."
"Where is this Coney Island? Is it far from here?" Thor asked.
"No. We'll take a cab," Astrid explained as they all moved for the door. "Its not really an island. Its just an area where there are a bunch of rides and arcade games and food all grouped together. I think you'll like it. Its a fun place to go. You can do one of those arcade games where you throw balls at stacks of bottles and win me a giant stuffed bear. Or whatever kind of games they're playing now."
"Now that sounds like a good idea," Elsa agreed, flashing a hopeful look up at Steve. He chuckled and put an arm around her.
"Oh, I think we can arrange something like that. Even though all those carnival games are rigged," Steve reminded her. Elsa gave him a glare to let him know that she didn't think it mattered. They both knew that he was beyond capable of winning at a bunch of games that were hard as hell to beat. He smiled at her and she took it as a promise.
"Games? What kind of games does this Coney Island have?" It sounded like Thor was definitely intrigued by the idea of the games. Elsa had a moment of imagining the two of them pitting themselves against the difficulty of the games in order to win prizes for their respective dates. If doing so showed off their masculine forms to the best possible advantage, she'd have no problems with it. They were both very nice to look at. She might even be able to ask Astrid to do her a few favors when Thor took her to Asgard. If she could tear her gaze away from all the bulging muscles.
She really liked all those rippling, bulging muscles.
Elsa frowned at herself and her less than pure thoughts. Damn Alex and her mouth. Damn her to hell.
~*~*~*~*~
Alex flopped down onto the couch next to Clint with a pint of Ben & Jerry's in one hand and a single spoon in the other. They'd spent a good portion of the evening packing things up, first at his place and then at hers. Plus they'd talked about which furniture they wanted to keep and what should be gotten rid of. Once they got the keys to the house, they were going to start moving things over. For now, her living room was cluttered with stacks of boxes, shelves and walls emptying out while floor space became scarce.
Clint tugged her closer to him and took the spoon from her without saying a word. He'd brought over a couple of Bond films to watch while they unwound from job work and house moving work. She didn't think they'd make it through the first before they climbed into bed, but it was possible they'd see the end of "Dr. No" before one or both of them dozed off. Not probable, but possible. Alex rested her head against his shoulder and positioned the ice cream so that he could spoon it from the carton and feed it just as easily to her as himself. His free arm rested behind her, his hand settled against her hip. This was ritual. Familiar.
Miri'd laugh to see what a boring couple they were.
Thinking of Miri saw her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. Clint pinched her. "Quit. They're fine."
She pinched him back, making sure to get a bit of nail into it. He didn't flinch, but it was a close thing. Alex smiled and turned back to the movie. "I know they're fine. I was just checking the time. I imagine they're still at dinner."
"More than likely," Clint replied before scooping up a spoonful of vanilla caramel fudge and offering it to her. Alex cleaned the ice cream off the spoon and worked on getting it down before continuing.
"I tried to get Coulson to tell me where he was taking her. But he just gave me that look. I swear, some days its like talking to a brick wall." Clint snorted a laugh and shot her a meaningful gaze. "Say it and you'll be wearing the ice cream."
"You do have to admit that its funny you're saying that. Have you tried talking to yourself?" he asked, humor coloring his words.
"I swear you want to sleep on the couch. Are you that attached to it?" she questioned. He turned to look at her, let her see the heat in his eyes. Alex shuddered and went in search of her brain. It was amazing how easily he could do that to her. "You make a compelling argument."
He laughed at that, then offered her another spoon of ice cream. "What are you so wound up for anyway? It isn't like Miri and Phil haven't done this before."
"Actually, they haven't. This is their first date ever," she told him, all interest in the movie gone for the time being. Clint considered that while working on his next bite of ice cream.
"It isn't like they weren't already dating, Lexi. They were both just unaware of the fact. I'm sure they're fine."
"You didn't see Miri. She was in full panic mode. I've never seen her that freaked out before. It was like our roles were reversed or something. It was weird," she told him before accepting more ice cream from him. A glance up at his face told her that he was giving that bit of information serious consideration.
"I heard that Coulson wasn't much better. But they'll be fine. They really love each other. They've got a lot in common," he said eventually. Alex considered it and finally gave a nod. They really did. They had a certain love for the rules that could set a person's teeth on edge and both were very good at giving that bland face that suggested they were little more than paper pushers. Alex had seen both Miri and Coulson in action and she knew it to be a blatant lie. They were as dangerous as a person could be. Sighing, she gave a faint nod of her head.
"I suppose you're right," she replied. She was probably worrying about nothing. Miri and Coulson, as individuals, were about as rock solid and steady as people could be. If she was being honest, it was a safe bet she was projecting her own worries about her relationship with Clint onto them and that wasn't fair. She was still kind of surprised that he'd agreed so easily to getting a house together. And, if she was being honest, she was scared out of her mind. Because that meant it was serious.
Thoughts of the house served to distract her from thoughts about Miri and Coulson, which was just as well because if she considered their date for much longer, she'd be imagining them having sex. And she was really damn sure that wasn't a place she was ready to go just yet. Maybe never. Instead, she found herself considering what that house meant to them. And what it would mean to their family and friends. "You're thinking very hard about something. Stop it before you hurt your brain," Clint said softly, his tone nothing but teasing. She pinched him again.
"You don't have to be an ass."
"I thought that was what you loved about me," he shot back, his grin wide and knowing. She rolled her eyes at his meaning.
"There are many things I love about you. At this moment, you being a smart ass is not one of them."
"You want to love it later?" he asked.
She couldn't help the images that question brought to life. "I'll think about it."
"Fair enough," he replied. A moment later, he flicked the television off and turned to look at her. That forced her to either sit up straight and land face first in his lap. She didn't miss a beat and righted herself with ease. "So what has your brain going this time of night? You should be falling asleep and drooling on me by now."
"Wow. Don't make me sound exciting or anything there, Barton," she shot back. He grinned and pulled her close so that he could press a kiss to her lips.
"You're the most exciting thing to ever happen to me, Lexi. You keep me on my toes because I never know what's going to happen. And I wouldn't have it any other way. So what's got you thinking instead of vegging?" The hand not curled around the spoon reached up to brush a few strands of hair back from her face.
"The house," she announced. Before he could leap to the wrong conclusion, she continued on. "I'm just wondering how we want to tell everyone we've moved in together and bought a house. I would kind of like to do it all at once instead of individually. You know?"
He watched her a moment or two, then smiled. "Ah. Safety in numbers. You're hoping that telling everyone together will keep your mother from getting marriage in her eyes."
"One can hope," she returned. He chuckled and tugged her close again.
"I've been thinking about that and I think I have an idea." He paused to scoop up some ice cream for himself, then offered a fresh spoonful to her. "What about that house warming party we talked about before? We can get everything done first. All the painting and moving and decorating. Then we get that grill we discussed and we throw a party. We can invite your family and our friends. Maybe a few people from work. Then everyone can find out all at the same time. And you can have a place to hide if your mother starts nagging." He grinned at her with the last of his statement.
Alex gave his suggestion some consideration. It did seem like a good way to announce their newly established cohabitation to everyone. They were going to start painting the moment the realtor put the keys in their hands. Everything was pretty much a done deal. All they were waiting on was final approval. They'd already done some catalogue shopping and they'd marked things they wanted to get for the house that they didn't already have. A grill for Clint and some patio furniture was top of the list. Okay, so there were a few other things. But those were necessities. The grill and patio furniture were at the top of the fun items list.
"What are you thinking? Hamburgers and hot dogs? Chips, salads, and that kind of thing?"
"Maybe some steaks, too," he added. Alex leaned toward the coffee table to retrieve a pad of paper and a pencil. When she was settled again, she started making notes. First was a list of who to invite, then she'd tackle the food list. "We should look into a picnic table, too. We'll probably need it."
"Most likely," she agreed and jotted it down. She didn't look away from the paper when Clint fed her some more ice cream. The idea of a house warming party was taking root and growing. She liked it. It would be a good way to tell everyone about the change in the relationship she had with Clint. "This is a good idea, Clint."
"Thank you," he said before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And you'll be in your own home. So you'll actually be able to hide from your mother when she starts nagging about marriage and children."
Alex didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she flashed him a wicked grin. "If I was you, I'd be more worried about her cornering you and nagging you about marriage and children. Have fun tending that grill, baby."
"Oh." Clint's face fell. "Shit." Shit, indeed. Alex couldn't help it. She laughed.
~*~*~*~*~
The night air was crisp and slightly cool as they walked. Hand in hand. That was an unusual feeling. Phil had already peeled off his coat and settled it on Miri's shoulders so that they wouldn't get chilled. This after spending so much time talking and laughing over dinner that they'd lost track of time and had needed to be shooed, gently, from their table because the restaurant was closing. They'd apologized profusely and Phil had left a large tip for their server to make up for their inattention.
Miri was not as pleased with their late night destination as she had been with dinner. The last time she'd been here, she'd been climbing through the wreckage of the helicarrier, hoping that Phil was still alive in there somewhere.
Central Park loomed like a dark shadow, the lights from the street only reaching so far past the natural barrier that the tall trees provided. Miri didn't really want to be there. Even now, so long after the accident, the memories of that night threatened to eat her down whole. She didn't realize that she'd moved closer to Phil until he let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him to see that he was still smiling, though he was watching the path before them. "Relax, Miri. We have a different destination tonight."
She took a breath and tried to force the tightness from her muscles. She was only partially successful. But Phil was true to his word and made sure to steer them away from the accident site. Miri knew from reports on the news that there was still a raw wound in the ground where the helicarrier had crashed, though crews were working almost round the clock to return the park to its former glory. She made a concerted effort to push her mind away from those horrible memories. The night had been wonderful so far. She didn't want to ruin it by thinking about that.
They followed the path beneath their feet toward one of the smaller bodies of water in the park. Soon enough, Miri saw that they were heading for Bow Bridge. She wondered at that for a bit, shoulders still slightly tense from memories that loomed like spectres in the shadowed corners of her mind. But Phil was a warm, soothing presence beside her, his arm a solid weight against her shoulders. He'd matched his pace to hers, taking her heels into account, so it felt as if they were strolling through the park.
The air smelled like foliage and freshly cut grass, with lingering remnants of the vendors who had positioned their carts at strategic locations along the park's pathways and peddled their wares earlier that day. And, of course, there was a tickle of Phil's aftershave or cologne, a spicy scent that teased her and brought other nighttime memories to life.
He stopped her in the very center of the bridge, at its highest point over the water below, and turned to look out over the slightly ruffled surface of the lake in the dim moonlight. She heard him take a deep breath in, let it out slowly. A sense of something important sprang to life and seemed to grow between them, Phil's gaze steady on the water. Miri reached out to lay her hand on his arm, a silent offer of support and to let him know that he should go ahead and say what he needed to say. He sighed again before turning to face her. The expression he wore was the softest she'd ever seen on his face. "I've been doing a good deal of thinking, Miri."
Her heart skipped a beat at the note in his words. Then it picked up speed when his hands found hers and took hold of them, grip warm and firm without being confining. His thumbs stroked a gentle rhythm against her skin. "About what, Phil?"
"About us," he replied.
She swallowed and squeezed his hands. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Oh, its a very good thing," he assured her, gave her a little smile that was crooked and so sweet. "After a very unusual conversation with a very unusual source, let's just say that I've come to realize exactly how much of my life is tied to yours. Oh, I'm sure I knew it before. As some kind of abstract idea at the back of my head. But now, after everything that's happened..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. Miri stared at him, eyes wide in surprise and confusion and disbelief. Silence held between them as he considered his next words and Miri's blood pounded so loudly in her ears that she almost didn't hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore and the bridge. "I love you, Miriam. I can't picture a life without you anymore. I don't want a life without you. I love you."
She was speechless for a long, long time and could only stare at him with wide eyes. Phil waited patiently as her brain screamed at the meaning of his words. When it all clicked into place, she threw herself into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling back to stare him in the eye. "I love you, too, Phil." And then she was kissing him again, their mouths moving back and forth against one another as she pressed into him. His arms were strong and tight around her, almost clinging as she told him without words just how much she loved him.
When they pulled apart, they were both gasping for air. Tears clung to Miri's cheeks, tiny droplets of happiness shining softly in the darkness. Phil wiped them away with his thumbs, his touch tender and sweet. He smiled at her, his emotions naked in his eyes. "I don't know what comes next, Miri. I don't have as much experience here as I'd like. But I do know what I want to do. I want to lay you down on the bed and make slow, sweet love to you."
Just like that, desire pooled low in her belly like thick golden honey.
Phil leaned in to kiss her again, soft and sweet and slow and gentle. It was a promise to do all he said and more. When he pulled back, he took her hand in his. "Come on, Miri. Let's go home."
Home. Her heart thrilled at the word and she let him pull her into a slow walk back in the direction they'd come. Home sounded good. It sounded right. And it sounded like the only place in the world she wanted to be.
~*~
There was a dim light shining when Phil's door swung open, creating soft shadows in his apartment. He let Miri step through the door before him, then closed the panel behind them. Before she had the chance to consider what to do, Phil took hold of her hand and started forward, pulling her after him toward the bedroom. She went willingly, if a little hesitantly. This whole night had been nothing like she'd expected and that left her confused as to just what was going to happen once they crossed the threshold into his bedroom. While their usual encounters had always been fulfilling and amazing, something told her that this evening would put every single one of their previous couplings to shame.
And that frightened her.
Phil's hand left hers when they stepped into the bedroom. A few seconds later, a soft light flickered to life as he turned on one of the bedside lamps. Then he crossed around the room so that he could turn on the other one. She could see that his bed was neatly made, dark blue blankets covering the mattress and pillows. A chair sat in the corner, waiting for one of Phil's suit coats or his work out clothes. The room was neat and pristine, nary a speck of dust or a piece of dirty laundry showing. The only thing different about his bedroom was the vase resting on the dresser. It was filled with half a dozen yellow roses in various states of blossom. They were a beautiful and thoughtful touch.
Phil came over to where she stood by the door and helped her out of his coat. She stared at him as he folded the coat in half and laid it across the chair in the corner. Then he came back to her a second time and tugged her gently into his arms. She went willingly, molded herself to his frame as he leaned in for a kiss. His mouth upon hers was slow and sweet and tender, teasing her senses and stirring her emotions to life oh, so slowly. It was nothing but a nearly chaste kiss, but it held a world of promise in it. A thrill of excitement worked its way up Miri's spine. God, she loved him. And she could already tell, from just that single press of lips, that tonight was going to kill her in so many good ways.
He broke from her and steered her toward the bed. "Have a seat and wait for me here. I'll be right back. Don't take anything off yet." Phil was gone before she could formulate an answer.
His words rang in her head. They hadn't been an order. Even so, she found herself obeying without even questioning it. Miri took a seat on the end of the bed and waited for him to return. Her mind turned over just what he could possibly have planned for the evening. Ideas came, only to be tossed away for one reason or another. She could think of numerous things Phil could have planned for the evening, every single one of them exciting and erotic, but a voice at the back of her head said he was going to stick with something a little more traditional for the first official date. Sadly, she really sucked at knowing what traditional was.
She could hear him on the other side of the apartment, humming to himself while he did whatever it was he was doing. She thought she heard the soft thunk of a cupboard door shutting, which would suggest he was in the kitchen. What was he gathering up in the kitchen? Did he have plans to include food play? She considered that for a moment, her body responding in force as she imagined Phil licking whipped cream or something equally sweet off her nipples, and decided that she wouldn't mind food play at all. Not a bit.
He was back before her thoughts could really run away from her. He was carrying two champagne flutes in one hand and a bottle of the bubbly tucked into a champagne bucket was held next to his body by the other arm. She lifted her brow at that, watching as he set everything on the dresser next to the roses. He turned to smile at her, then made a show of popping the cork from the bottle and pouring a measure of the golden liquid in each flute. Carrying the flutes one in each hand, Phil crossed to the bed and sat down next to her. After handing her one flute, he gently tapped their glasses together. "To us. And to a very long, very satisfying night."
She sipped at her champagne slowly. The sake still lingered and she didn't want to risk being ill or anything later. Phil sipped his own drink just as slowly, his gaze locked to her face. When she'd finished about half of the measure he'd poured her, Phil took the flute from her hand and set it on the floor. Then he leaned in and captured her mouth with his own, his hands sliding into the thickness of her hair. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingers clenched slightly around the material of his shirt. He tasted of champagne and need, his lips moving against hers even as he urged her back toward the mattress.
Time fell away, became meaningless as Phil's mouth feasted from hers, as his hands smoothed over her arms and torso. First over the silky feel of her dress, then against the silk of her skin and undergarments as the dress disappeared as if by magic. His fingers traced every inch of her arms, leaving tingling awareness in their wake. His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, and from her cheek to her throat. He nibbled at her flesh, left stinging bites that he soothed with the gentle stroke of his tongue and the sweet press of his lips. She moaned softly, each touch bringing more and more emotion to a boil just under the surface.
When he broke from her, it was so that his eyes could take in everything that she was. His gaze lingered on the darkness of her undergarments as he let his eyes drift from her face down to her toes and back up. Feather light touches traced the lace that edged her bra and forced her to suck in a quick breath. Her breasts swelled up into his touch and a finger slipped between the lace and her flesh. Barely brushed her nipple, already hard and aching for his touch, before pulling away to leave her hungry for more.
Her belly quivered when his hands slid over it. Her thighs tightened as he trailed his fingertips along them. The rasp of her stockings against her skin as his fingers moved over them brought a faint moan up her throat. She thought she heard Phil catch his breath, but it was hard to tell over the pounding of her heart. His hands crested her knees before gliding down to her ankles and then her feet.
He turned his full attention to one foot, pressed a kiss into her arch before turning his head so that he could kiss the side. She sighed, toes curling at the flick of his tongue against the edge of her foot, then she was lost to sensation when he started working his way up the inside of her leg. His hands and mouth worked in tandem to deliver kisses and caresses to her ankle, the curve of her calf, the bend of her knee. The skin on the inside of her thighs was tender and sensitive, drawing moans and gasps and sighs from her as he continued his way up. Her body pulsed with need, ached for him to deliver that last touch that would send her headlong into full blown hunger. But his mouth lifted before his mouth reached the juncture of her thighs and he turned his attention to the other leg.
Phil repeated the process, starting with the bottom of her foot before working his way up her leg. His actions were slow and measured, precise. Each press of his lips was a promise of more. Each touch of his hand was another log thrown on the fire of passion that had started in her abdomen. She watched him as he traveled higher up her thigh, saw the way he watched her in return. He had yet to remove any of his clothing, leaving her to wonder if he was turned on by this or if he was doing what he thought she wanted him to do. There was a part of her brain that demanded she grab him and pull him up so that she could work his pants off of him. So that she could touch him and make him want her as much as she wanted him.
Her thoughts were shattered abruptly when his mouth grazed the silky crotch of her panties. The sensation tore a loud gasp from her throat and the sound encouraged Phil to touch her again. This time, he pressed his mouth fully against her, let his tongue slide out to push at the material of her panties. Persistence saw him working his way between her nether lips, his tongue driving her panties between them so that he could drag it across her clit. She squirmed under him, felt his hands tighten on her inner thighs before spreading them as wide a they would go. The pressure of his tongue and the material rubbing against her most intimate flesh made her heart pound in her chest, made her breath come in short gasps.
He knew her body so well, knew every last place he could touch that would drive her wild with need. She wanted to beg him to fuck her, but something stayed the words in her throat. She was sure that he would only move on to full intercourse when he decided it was time. Dear god in heaven, it was going to be a long night.
He ate at her clit through her panties. Sucked her nether lips into his mouth. Laved them with his tongue. Ate her sanity away with each nip of his teeth and flick of his tongue. Worked at her so that the tension built and grew. Pushed her to the very brink.
Phil pulled back before she could tumble over the edge, drawing a strangled cry from her. He ignored the inarticulate protest, focused instead on ridding her of the garter belt that held her stockings up. When he had it unhooked, it was tossed carelessly to the floor. Her panties followed after it, and then her bra. He stared down at her, clad only in a pair of silk stockings and the jewelry she'd put on to compliment her dress. His gaze raked over her again, just as slowly as before. This time, though, there was a hint of possession darkening his gaze. And his position on the bed, kneeling between her splayed legs, showed her that he was indeed as turned on by what he'd done to her as she was.
She ached to reach out and cup his cock, to run fingers and mouth and tongue over it. Ached to taste the salty flavor of him as she lapped up the pearly drops that leaked from the slit in his cock head. She wanted to take him into her mouth and suck him off until he lost all composure. She just wanted him with a fierceness that startled her.
His hands trailed over her body again, this time touching the flesh that had been covered by her underwear. She shivered at the heat in his touch, reached up to tackle the buttons on his shirt. Phil didn't stop her, but he didn't make it easy on her. His hands were constantly moving, thumbs tracing the swollen folds of flesh between her thighs before slipping between them into her moist heat. Fingers joined thumbs, stroked in and out with slow, languid motions that made her want to cry with frustration. Just enough friction to arouse her desire, but not nearly enough to bring her any kind of satisfaction. "Damn it, Phil. Please," she whispered, begging him for more with eyes and words.
He smiled down at her, eyes tender and kind. Filled with hunger and desire. "I am, Miri. I promise you. I am."
He launched a new assault on her senses, lips curling around each nipple in turn so that he could suck on them and nibble at them until she was incoherent. Each new touch of his lips or teeth or tongue sent ribbons of pleasure unfurling through her until she was a quivering mess of flesh and feelings. She whimpered softly, arms at her sides and eyelids heavy. His caresses pushed her ever closer to the brink, filled her with hunger and need so powerful that it was frightening. More than that, though, his every touch and taste and tease told her without words just how lucky he was to have her in his life. How happy he was to be there with her at that very moment.
How much he loved her.
That's when she understood. This night wasn't a typical night for them. Well, technically, it was for them. But it wasn't. It was meant to be a night for her. A night during which Phil planned on showing Miri just how special she was to him. Using every method at his disposal.
That knowledge was the ultimate aphrodisiac. The flood gates opened and desire such as she'd never felt poured into her, filled her up until she was full and floating on it. Drunk on it. Her moans came lower and fuller. Her gasps were shorter. Her sighs longer.
Phil only moved away from her breasts when the nipples were raw and sore from his lavish treatment. He blazed a trail down her abdomen, drawing her flesh into his mouth so he could bite down on it and leave marks on her skin. So he could lay claim to her in the most visual manner possible. The outer edges of her belly button was given the same treatment before his tongue dipped into it and soothed the sharp pain he'd left behind. And then he was drifting further down.
Miri nearly came off the bed when his mouth settled over her nether lips. His fingers were there to peel her lips back and allow him access to her clit. He dragged the tip of his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth and gently grating his teeth over the sensitive flesh. He released it as quickly as he'd taken hold of it, his tongue moving down to dip inside of her. It pressed deep before he pulled back and once more dragged his tongue up over her clit. This time, his fingers speared into her and stroked as far into her as they could go. Her hips arched up into his touches, silently begging him to give her relief from the building tension.
He sucked and nipped and licked and stroked, working her ever closer to the edge of oblivion. Every last nerve ending was alive and washed in sensation. Tingles and heat ran under her skin. Her nipples were puckered and sore, hungry for his mouth or hands. Her hands lifted of their own accord, fingers tweaking and tugging at them to relieve some of the growing tension. Phil's mouth and fingers continued to work at her clit, continued to slide into her so that he could stroke her needs higher. She felt like she was going to shatter under the weight of the growing need. And she was so close. So close. He just needed to move his fingers a little faster. Press them in a little deeper. Tease her clit a little harder.
Almost as if he read her mind, he did just that. Teased her harder. Pressed deeper. Stroked faster. Sucked more vigorously. Until she was right on the cusp, until she could feel that the pleasure was on the verge of exploding open into a galaxy of glittering stars and bright colors. He pulled back yet again.
The sound that came from her throat was filled with disbelief and displeasure. How could he do that to her? How could he leave her hanging when she so obviously needed to fly apart?
Phil climbed from the bed and moved over to the dresser. She wanted to get up and put her clothes back on, wanted to leave and go home. But her limbs weighed a thousand pounds each and moving was so hard. So instead, she rolled her head to the side and watched as he ran his fingers over each rose in the vase. After a few moments, he extracted one of the flowers and turned to show it to her. The blossom was still fairly tight but some of the petals had opened up and gave clues to the flower that would come. His free hand slid open a drawer and drew a small blade from within. She watched, rapt, as he cut nearly all of the stem off, leaving only a short length with which to hold the flower. The knife went back into the drawer, then he returned to the bed.
The rose felt like cool silk as he trailed it across her body. The curl on the petals tickled her skin. They caught on her nipples when he dragged the blossom over each one of them. They were so sensitive that the touch of the petal saw them tightening up even further. She whimpered softly and turned pleading eyes to him. Phil only smiled and moved the flower to its next destination.
Her stomach quivered as the yellow bud twirled over its surface. It tickled. And at the same time, it was teasing and sensual and made the fire in her belly roar with need. He traced patterns against her skin, shapes and sigils and what felt like letters. The small part of her brain that was still functioning suggested that he was marking her as his just the same as he had when he'd used his lips and teeth and tongue. And when he finished marking her with whatever brand he'd chosen to use, the rose moved lower again.
The brush of the petals against her swollen flesh was like a butterfly's caress. It was soft and gentle and barely there. His free hand rose and carefully peeled her lips apart so that he could drag the edges of the petals over her clit. Miri's back arched with the feel of it. He shifted his hold on the flower so that the bud was parallel to her body, then dragged it over her clit. It shouldn't have felt as erotic as it did. It shouldn't have seen sparks erupting under her skin the way it did. Maybe she was so worked up that it didn't matter, so sensitive that even a breath would send her tumbling into the abyss. Each stroke of the rose saw her spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
The rose continued to slide over her clit, continued to circle and tease it. The fingers on Phil's other hand slid into her again, stroking with more force and speed this time. The fire built, her hips moving in time with his ministrations. She begged him with incomprehensible words, hands pulling at her nipples once more. She was so close. So close. Just a little more friction would see her there. She just needed...
"That's it, Miri. Let go. Just let go and come for me," Phil whispered, his voice filling the room. He pressed deeper with his fingers, ground the rose against her clit. A twist of his fingers saw them finding just the right spot and Miri felt herself bursting apart on the inside. She shattered and splintered and broke and came back together just in time to do it all again. The intensity of her orgasm rolled over her like a freight train, pulled away to leave her limp on the bed. Her chest heaved and her limbs were jelly and her insides felt like liquid. She looked up to find Phil watching her with an expression that was honest and open.
"Wow," she managed.
Phil smiled at her. Leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, that same gentle and tender one he'd given her when they'd first gotten there. "I love you, Miri. And I'm going to spend the whole night showing you just how much."
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Thirty One: Games People Play
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
~*~*~*~*~
Miri had never heard of Cherry Blossom before. The restaurant was in a large, square building with a bank of windows on the front that shone with light from inside. There were a few benches set around the doors and groups of bright green shrubs and bushes lined either side of the walk up to the doors. Phil's hand was warm against Miri's back as he escorted her through the door toward a hostess waiting at a black lacquer and stained wood stand. She smiled when she saw them and inclined her head in a slight bow. "Good evening and welcome to Cherry Blossom."
"We have a reservation under the name Coulson," Phil told the smiling woman. One red tipped nail traced a path down the reservation book before her, stopping on one line.
"Of course, Mr. Coulson. If you will follow me?" she asked as she picked up a couple of menus. She stepped away from the hostess stand and started toward the back of the dining room. Long black hair hung straight down her back in a graceful braid, the end tied off with a small ring of silk flowers. Miri recognized them as cherry blossoms. The same pattern decorated the kimono she wore, the pale pink buds bright against a background of white.
Miri let her gaze rake the interior as they followed the hostess. There was more of the stained wood under their feet and on the walls behind artwork that had been imported straight from Japan. The center of the floor was dotted with tables that held two and four and more. Their tops were wooden and those not being used were set with red napkins and sets of chopsticks. Light fixtures of the same red created a close, cozy atmosphere by limiting the amount of light that filled the space. Along the walls were booths separated by rice paper dividers to offer the diners sat there the illusion of privacy.
They stopped beside one of the booths and the hostess laid out the menus, quickly scooping up the extra napkins and chopsticks. Then she motioned them into the booth with a smile. "Please be seated. Your server will be with you shortly." She gifted them with a small bow, then disappeared and they were alone in their little alcove.
Miri glanced up at Phil to find him avoiding her gaze, so she picked up her menu and began looking through it. There was a touch of tension between the two of them, filling the space around them until she felt it dancing along her nerves. She found it odd because she'd never seen Phil ruffled or off his game. Nothing upset him like that. Ever. So to know that he was tense suggested he was nervous or worried. Miri pondered that for a long while, her gaze shifting over the menu slowly, until she finally realized that Phil was as nervous about their date as she was.
After a quick glance to ensure no one was paying them any attention, Miri slipped her heels off and casually lifted one foot until it could touch the section of sock between hem and shoe revealed when he'd taken his seat. The second her toe brushed against his sock and then slid up under his pant leg, Phil actually visibly jumped. He set the menu down and gave her a faintly sheepish grin. Yeah. He was totally off his game. "Miri?"
"Relax, Phil," she suggested softly. "We're both so nervous that I can cut the tension hanging between us with a dull knife."
He stared a moment, then huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Almost instantly, his shoulders drooped and he was as relaxed as he ever got. "You're right. This is ridiculous. I should not be this tightly strung."
Their server arrived just then, putting the conversation on hold. The young woman had wound her silky black hair into a bun at the back of her head. Like the hostess, she wore a kimono that had cherry blossoms painted on it. She carried with her a pad of paper and a pencil and her beautiful face was wreathed in smiles. "Good evening. My name is Kiyomi and I'll be serving you. Can I start you off with an appetizer?"
"Yes. We'd like the mixed sashimi platter to start," Phil replied easily. Any prior nervousness was gone, leaving in its place the sure and capable man she'd come to know and love.
"Very good, sir," she replied. Miri watched as she wrote something on the pad of paper with quickness and ease. "And to drink?"
"Sake. And two glasses of water," he told her. She nodded at that, again marking it on the pad of paper.
"Do you require more time to study the menu? Or have you made a decision?" Kiyomi asked them.
"I'd like the Udon noodle bowl," Miri told the young woman. She wrote it down on her pad before turning her attention to Phil. He gave one last glance at the menu before ordering the same. Kiyomi gave a hint of a bow and retrieved the menus, then hurried away to put their order in. When she was gone and they were alone again, Miri reached out with one hand and took hold of Phil's. "I have a confession to make, Phil."
"Oh?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.
"I was so nervous about this date thing. I might have panicked a little bit after you asked me out. Now I just feel kind of stupid about it," she told him, giving him her own sheepish grin to punctuate her words.
Phil shook his head. "I might have panicked a little bit after I asked you out, too. To the point that I went seeking advice about the date. I didn't want to screw anything up."
Miri smiled at that. "You wouldn't screw anything up, Phil. Apparently we've been dating for months. Just not out in the open. But if its any consolation, I had to seek out some advice myself. It feels so silly now, when we're sitting here and you look so handsome."
And he did. Instead of his usual dark suit, he wore a pale blue shirt under a dark blue suit coat. His pants were black, as were his shoes. The tie he wore was a silver blue with a midnight blue stripe pattern that brought out the blue in his eyes. And with the lighter color scheme, there came a new kind of relaxed that she didn't normally see on him. They were allowed to be seen together in public now, which was still something she was struggling to get used to. If his posture was any indication, Phil was enjoying their new found open relationship.
"And you look very beautiful, Miriam," he replied. She blushed at the compliment. She'd chosen something carefully with Astrid's words still ringing in her head. Sexy but not slutty. She'd ended up going with a little black dress that hugged her body. It had spaghetti straps that required a strapless bra. She'd paired it with black heels and a silver chain around her neck from which hung a dark purple amethyst. The stone darkened and intensified the color of her eyes. Matching earrings dangled from her ears. A plain silver bangle rested on her wrist.
"Thank you," she replied, voice open and honest. He smiled at her, turned his hand so that he held hers instead of the other way around. Kiyomi appeared with a tray holding two goblets of ice water, a small porcelain container, and two even smaller porcelain drinking cups. Each motion filled with grace and poise, their waitress transferred the items on her tray to the table before them. She carefully poured out a measure of sake into each of the empty porcelain cups, then bowed and disappeared again.
Phil reached out and took hold of his shot of sake. Miri mirrored his actions and tapped her cup to his when he held it out to her. The smile he gave her made her insides go soft and warm and she realized in that moment that she'd probably fallen in love with that smile the first time she saw it and hadn't even known. Phil was very good at sneaking up on people and surprising them. Based on his looks and demeanor, no one expected him to be anything more than an accountant. That was one of the things that made him so good at his job. "To the start of something beautiful," Phil announced quietly and brought the cup back so that he could sip his sake. Miri did the same in quiet awe.
The sake was strong, but not unfamiliar. She'd had it once before, some years ago at a restaurant in Tokyo. She'd been sitting across from Phil that time, too, but they hadn't been as close as they were now. "This reminds me of--"
Phil cut across her before she finished speaking. "Tokyo. About seven years ago. We were on an information gather. I remember you wore a very flattering black dress to dinner that night. You looked very beautiful."
Miri couldn't help the blush that rose to color her cheeks. Phil's smile was his most personal and intimate. Just like that, it felt like there were butterflies in her belly. She wasn't surprised that he remembered the mission. Phil remembered all of his missions. She was surprised that he remembered the dress she'd worn to that dinner. "It wasn't anything special," she replied softly.
"On the contrary, Miriam. It was very special," he told her. Her blush deepened. "And very memorable."
"Smooth talker," she said, struggling for something more intelligent to say.
Phil smirked at her. "Yes. But its not the only area where I'm smooth. And you know that." The intimation in his words was hard to miss. Miri found herself taking a drink of her water to cover her sudden inability to speak. But that didn't stop her from letting her foot slide slowly up his calf toward his knee. The move saw Phil's eyes going dark with understanding and, just like that, the tension that had been pulled tight between them was gone. She found herself leaning back in her chair, eager to see how the rest of the night would progress.
~*~*~*~*~
Phoebe rolled her eyes as Tony made a show of checking his watch. Again. He'd been so full of himself ever since he'd found out that Agent Coulson had asked Miri out on a date. In fact, she hadn't heard the end of it since his lunch with Agent Coulson a few days ago. She didn't bother to hide her annoyance with him as she studied the board between them. It was his turn, naturally, and he was stalling as long as he could. "Gloating does not become you," she told him pointedly. Tony just grinned and reached for the dice.
"You're just jealous because I managed to hook Coulson up with Miri and you didn't." She watched as he shook the dice in his hand, faint clicking sounds accompanying the motion. Phoebe rolled her eyes at him with much more force than she had the last time. He kept shaking the dice, kept smirking. Kept irritating her.
"Actually, I'm not. I don't believe in interfering with my friends' lives unless they ask me to or they're doing something that would qualify as dangerous and life threatening. Miri did neither of those things. I have every confidence that she and Agent Coulson would have sorted things out in their own time."
"Sure they would have." The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes told Phoebe that Tony had his doubts about that. She gave him a frown, then looked pointedly at his hand. The grin he gave her in return was one of those dangerous ones because it made her extremely annoyed with him and it turned her insides to hot, quivering jelly. Which was just as annoying as being annoyed. And he was good at doing both in equal measures.
"And what about you, Tony? Do you ever plan on taking me on dates? Telling me you love me? Asking me to marry you?" she asked him sweetly. Just to see him sweat a little. Tony did take her out, but often times to places that required a certain level of clothing and sophistication that always left her feeling slightly uncomfortable. Many such occasions were related to Stark Industries and, as such, didn't really count as dates. Just once, she'd like to go do something fun, where Tony didn't have to be Tony Stark. They could go bowling or to a movie or even just to a zoo.
The mention of marriage had a predictable reaction. His hand stilled and he turned serious eyes her way. She knew his views on marriage. They'd talked about getting married before, once or twice. And it wasn't that Tony was against making it legal. He'd been very adamant about that. He'd also told her that marriage wasn't something he wanted to just walk into until he was certain he had his shit together. And she not only understood that decision, she respected it. But that knowledge didn't stop her from mentioning it when she really needed to make a point. "Phoebe."
"I know exactly what you're going to say, Tony. And you know I agree with you. Its very important to your health and the health of our relationship that you deal with your issues. And that is entirely my point here. Maybe Agent Coulson had issues of his own that he needed to deal with. Maybe he wasn't ready to take the step required to make such a deep commitment to Miri. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn't ready to take that step, either. Did you think of that?"
The look he gave her said he hadn't. Not really. But he didn't defend his actions right off the bat, either. Instead, she saw him really think about what she'd just said to him. He was quiet for a very long time, which meant he was giving deep consideration to everything before he put forth his response. When it did come, it wasn't an unexpected answer. But she was proud that he'd put some thought behind it. "Maybe I shouldn't have stuck my nose into the middle of their affairs. Maybe I had no right. But it was plain to see that they were mooning over one another. How long should we have let that go on? Agent Coulson almost died in the helicarrier crash. If he had, she'd have never known how much he cared about her. There wouldn't have been a chance for either of them to share their feelings."
Phoebe held back a snort at the mention of sharing feelings. She had to practically force Tony to share any of his feelings with her, though he'd gotten better about it after the HYDRA attack. Still, hearing him talk about feelings was on the same level as hearing the pope talk about anal sex gang bang videos.
He saw through her feeble attempts anyway. "You may not think its true, but seeing what HYDRA did to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the helicarrier was enough to convince me to reevaluate my life and what having people in it meant to me. I don't ever again want to have to worry that I'm going to lose you like that." The underlying seriousness and fear in his tone sobered her immediately. She kept forgetting that he'd seen the worst of that situation. "They'd almost lost each other, Phoebe. They were pining. I just gave Coulson a nudge."
Phoebe frowned at him because she really couldn't argue with his logic. She still didn't like that he'd butted into their affairs and more or less forced Agent Coulson's hand in the matter. "You're such a busy body, Tony," she accused.
Her words earned her a knowing grin. He started shaking his hand again, started prepping his dice roll. She glanced down at the board, slightly embarrassed that he'd so easily made her forget they were playing a game, and felt a tingle of anticipation course through her. "I could be. Busy. With your body. I'm pretty sure you'd like that."
She stifled the urge to respond in the intended way, pushing down the shiver that wanted to climb up her spine. Tony always found a way to make game night more interesting and difficult than it should have been. "Stop trying to distract me, Tony. Its still your turn. Either play the game or forfeit. Quit stalling."
Her words saw him shooting her a look that suggested he was hurt. She knew better. They played this game almost every time they had game night, which was becoming a more frequent occurrence, and while Phoebe was good at holding out, she could only hold out so long before he found a way to get past her defenses. He smiled, letting her know he knew exactly what he was doing to her. But he didn't push. He gave one last shake of his fist, then dumped the dice onto the board between them. She was counting spaces before he even put his hand on his game piece. And her smile came long before he realized where he was going to land. Tony frowned, fingers still caught around the little metal car.
"You rolled ten. That puts you on Boardwalk and I have a hotel there. You owe me two thousand dollars, Tony." She didn't disguise the fact that she was gloating. She just watched as Tony looked at the board, then at the dwindling stack of cash in front of him. If he paid her the two thousand dollars, he'd be flat broke. The irony of that was not wasted on her. "Pay up."
"Come on, Phoebe," he began. She could tell he was going to try and cajole her, try and make her forget. She crossed her arms and nodded toward his tiny pile of fake money with her head. Pointedly.
"Pay up." She put one hand out to let him know she wasn't going to let him out of this one.
"Seriously?" he demanded, obviously in disbelief. He was incapable of losing with grace, which made game night so much fun for her.
"Hand it over, Tony."
They stared at one another across the game board, Tony attempting to distract her with his best puppy dog face. Phoebe held strong in the face of temptation, wiggling her fingers at him pointedly. There was no way she was going to let him out of this. No way at all. His face slid into resignation when he realized that she wasn't going to relent and he reached for the paper money laid out before him. It still took another moment or two for him to turn the last of his cash over, and he did so with a considerable lack of grace. "This doesn't make any sense. I'm the owner of a huge manufacturing corporation. You shouldn't be able to beat me at Monopoly."
"You're an engineer, Tony. You know how to build things. Its pretty obvious to everyone by now that Pepper is the one that runs Stark Industries. She just lets you keep your name on the building so she doesn't hurt your feelings."
"You're a cruel woman, Phoebe Sinclair. A cruel, cruel woman. Not only did you beat me again, but you were mean and rubbed my nose in it. Why do I still keep you around?"
"To keep you from getting such a big head that no one wants to be around you," she replied without a hint of remorse. Tony cocked a brow at her in disbelief. She heaved what was meant to be a long suffering sigh and put the back of one hand to her forehead in what she hoped was a dramatic fashion. "Its a constant struggle."
Tony stared at her for a second or two, the snorted and shook his head. "Do you hear this, Jarvis? My own girlfriend can't even show me respect in my own home."
"Miss Sinclair has a point, sir," the AI's cool voice answered. It sounded to Phoebe like there was a touch of smart ass in Jarvis' tone. Tony sighed, eyes rolling as he threw up his hand.
"No respect at all."
Phoebe smiled and rose from her seat, then made her way around the table to where Tony sat. He didn't argue when she slid her arm around his neck and settled herself in his lap. His arms came up and circled her, holding her close as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Since I won game night, that means I get to pick what I want to do. Right?"
He turned to look at her, gaze intent on her face. "Maybe. I guess that all depends on what you want to do."
Phoebe smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Then she turned her face so that she could put her mouth against his ear. Began whispering exactly what it was that she wanted to do. She felt him respond, his grip tightening on her as she laid everything out in plain, simple words.
No respect? She'd show him no respect.
~*~*~*~*~
Astrid's apartment was cluttered, stuffed with papers, stacked with books, and overrun by her inventions. Elsa was both intrigued and mildly frightened by the number of moving mechanical items. They rested on bookshelves and occupied the floor, some of them trailing after Astrid like robotic puppies. The other woman didn't appear to notice them, suggesting that her mind was either too occupied with other things or she was so used to it that she didn't even think about them anymore. One of them crept closer to Elsa, sniffed at her ankles, then strolled away. She was apparently no threat.
It was pleasant and homey, though, with a plush sofa and chairs to sit on. There were art prints on the walls, along with sturdy wooden tables. A pair of doorways opened into what Elsa suspected were the kitchen and the bedroom. It was small and cramped and felt completely like Astrid.
Despite the fact that they were inside a box, Thor seemed at home there and looked at ease in a t-shirt that fit snugly around the arms and pecs and a pair of jeans that clung to every inch of his legs and butt. Elsa blinked at her casual observations about Thor's body and decided that Alex had been a very bad influence on her. She allowed Astrid to pull her into a hug while Steve and Thor engaged in a round of hand shaking. "Forgive the clutter," Astrid said, then motioned to the couch. "Please. Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? A snack, maybe?"
There was a pad of paper on a low coffee table before the couch, a pencil left laying across its surface. Elsa could see that there were words scribbled on the surface of the paper, completely indecipherable. It looked like a list, but Elsa couldn't say what kind of list. For all she knew, Astrid could be making a list of supplies needed to make a nuclear weapon. She didn't think Astrid would build something so ambitious, but she wasn't confident enough to be sure.
"Oh, no. Nothing for me," Elsa replied, tearing her gaze from the mysterious list to look at the other woman. "Steve and I were going to go have dinner and maybe catch a movie. We thought you might like to come with."
"Oh, that's so sweet of you. But I don't know if I can spare the time. I've got to pack," Astrid told her. Elsa blinked at that. She was unaware that Astrid was planning on going anywhere.
"Pack? Where are you going?"
"I'm taking Astrid with me to Asgard," Thor informed them. "But plans are not completed. There is plenty of time to pack." The last was said to Astrid, Thor's face wreathed in an indulgent smile as he looked at her.
"I know that. But I figured I'd start now because I don't know what I should take and it'll probably take me that long to decide," she told him. He grinned and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Based on the way Astrid's cheeks pinked up, Elsa could well imagine what Thor had said to her.
"You're going back to Asgard?" Elsa asked, doing her best to keep her tone even. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Asgard must be like. She'd love to find out, but she suspected her chances of that were slim. The scientist in her was absolutely jealous of Astrid's trip to another world. Maybe she could convince Astrid to make videos for her?
"For a short time," Thor nodded. "And since my brother is still in hiding, I have no wish to leave Astrid unprotected."
"Well, since no one is going to Asgard tonight, how about the two of you join us for an evening out?" Steve suggested. His tone heavily implied that he wouldn't take no for an answer. He and Elsa had discussed it before leaving her place. It almost felt to her like everyone was drifting apart and something in Elsa had wanted to prevent it from happening. Steve had assured her that she was just imagining things, that every single one of them was bound together by the events they'd all been through and they'd never really drift apart. It had been his idea to ask Thor and Astrid to join them on their outing. She knew that he'd done so in order to appease her.
It looked as if Astrid was going to try and talk her way out of it. There was this expression on her face that said she was looking for an excuse to stay home. Thor must have seen it, too, because he reached out and touched her face with the tips of his fingers. "There'll be plenty of time to plan what you should take to Asgard, Astrid. Let's go out with friends and enjoy the evening."
She hesitated just a moment longer before giving a nod of her head. Her gaze dipped down for a moment or two, then came up again. Her cheeks were pink with a touch of embarrassment. "Let me go change into something else. I'll be right back."
"Of course. Take your time." Elsa smiled at her and watched as Astrid hurried off, hands already tugging at her overalls. She, Steve, and Thor made small talk while she was off changing, Elsa taking the opportunity to ask the Asgardian prince questions about his home. He answered with a smile on his face, obviously used to curious scientists trolling for all kinds of information. Steve sat back and let Elsa run with her questions. At least for the five minutes it took before Astrid rejoined them.
When the other woman came back, she was wearing a pair of capri length pants and a lace edged camisole under a sheer blouse meant to serve as a light weight jacket. She'd dragged her hair back into a pony tail and she'd tucked her feet into a pair of Keds. "Is this okay? Should I go change?"
"No, Astrid. No. You look very nice." It was Steve who paid her the compliment, prompting a new round of blushing from Astrid. Elsa leaned into him and bumped her shoulder against his. He bumped back to let her know he appreciated her silent praise. "So. Options for the night. Dinner first, obviously. After, though, is open. We'd originally thought of going to a movie, but I'm open to suggestions. Elsa?"
"Of course. We can do something else besides a movie, if that's what you want. We don't have to do anything fancy. Just a group of friends, kicking back and enjoying each other's company." She let her gaze slide from Astrid to Thor, then back again. Astrid glanced at Thor, who shrugged one shoulder in response.
"We could go out to Coney Island," Astrid suggested. Her gaze landed on Steve before drifting over to Thor. "You two could test your muscles on some of the arcade games. And there are rides. Since its Friday, there are fireworks. We could do everything out there. Eat, stroll, game."
Elsa looked at Steve. He stared back for a few moments before shrugging his shoulders. He was open to it. And, to be honest, Elsa was more inclined to do something like Coney Island than a fine dining type evening. "Sure. Coney Island is a perfect way to spend the evening," she said to the room. Astrid smiled at that, then moved to retrieve her purse. Elsa stood. Steve rose up beside her.
"I don't think I've been to Coney Island since before the war," Steve remarked.
"I've never been," Elsa admitted. Steve looked at her as if he couldn't believe it. He knew she'd lived her entire life in New York City. Then she motioned toward Thor. "Unless Astrid's taken Thor, he hasn't been, either. This is going to be a new adventure for both of us."
"Where is this Coney Island? Is it far from here?" Thor asked.
"No. We'll take a cab," Astrid explained as they all moved for the door. "Its not really an island. Its just an area where there are a bunch of rides and arcade games and food all grouped together. I think you'll like it. Its a fun place to go. You can do one of those arcade games where you throw balls at stacks of bottles and win me a giant stuffed bear. Or whatever kind of games they're playing now."
"Now that sounds like a good idea," Elsa agreed, flashing a hopeful look up at Steve. He chuckled and put an arm around her.
"Oh, I think we can arrange something like that. Even though all those carnival games are rigged," Steve reminded her. Elsa gave him a glare to let him know that she didn't think it mattered. They both knew that he was beyond capable of winning at a bunch of games that were hard as hell to beat. He smiled at her and she took it as a promise.
"Games? What kind of games does this Coney Island have?" It sounded like Thor was definitely intrigued by the idea of the games. Elsa had a moment of imagining the two of them pitting themselves against the difficulty of the games in order to win prizes for their respective dates. If doing so showed off their masculine forms to the best possible advantage, she'd have no problems with it. They were both very nice to look at. She might even be able to ask Astrid to do her a few favors when Thor took her to Asgard. If she could tear her gaze away from all the bulging muscles.
She really liked all those rippling, bulging muscles.
Elsa frowned at herself and her less than pure thoughts. Damn Alex and her mouth. Damn her to hell.
~*~*~*~*~
Alex flopped down onto the couch next to Clint with a pint of Ben & Jerry's in one hand and a single spoon in the other. They'd spent a good portion of the evening packing things up, first at his place and then at hers. Plus they'd talked about which furniture they wanted to keep and what should be gotten rid of. Once they got the keys to the house, they were going to start moving things over. For now, her living room was cluttered with stacks of boxes, shelves and walls emptying out while floor space became scarce.
Clint tugged her closer to him and took the spoon from her without saying a word. He'd brought over a couple of Bond films to watch while they unwound from job work and house moving work. She didn't think they'd make it through the first before they climbed into bed, but it was possible they'd see the end of "Dr. No" before one or both of them dozed off. Not probable, but possible. Alex rested her head against his shoulder and positioned the ice cream so that he could spoon it from the carton and feed it just as easily to her as himself. His free arm rested behind her, his hand settled against her hip. This was ritual. Familiar.
Miri'd laugh to see what a boring couple they were.
Thinking of Miri saw her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. Clint pinched her. "Quit. They're fine."
She pinched him back, making sure to get a bit of nail into it. He didn't flinch, but it was a close thing. Alex smiled and turned back to the movie. "I know they're fine. I was just checking the time. I imagine they're still at dinner."
"More than likely," Clint replied before scooping up a spoonful of vanilla caramel fudge and offering it to her. Alex cleaned the ice cream off the spoon and worked on getting it down before continuing.
"I tried to get Coulson to tell me where he was taking her. But he just gave me that look. I swear, some days its like talking to a brick wall." Clint snorted a laugh and shot her a meaningful gaze. "Say it and you'll be wearing the ice cream."
"You do have to admit that its funny you're saying that. Have you tried talking to yourself?" he asked, humor coloring his words.
"I swear you want to sleep on the couch. Are you that attached to it?" she questioned. He turned to look at her, let her see the heat in his eyes. Alex shuddered and went in search of her brain. It was amazing how easily he could do that to her. "You make a compelling argument."
He laughed at that, then offered her another spoon of ice cream. "What are you so wound up for anyway? It isn't like Miri and Phil haven't done this before."
"Actually, they haven't. This is their first date ever," she told him, all interest in the movie gone for the time being. Clint considered that while working on his next bite of ice cream.
"It isn't like they weren't already dating, Lexi. They were both just unaware of the fact. I'm sure they're fine."
"You didn't see Miri. She was in full panic mode. I've never seen her that freaked out before. It was like our roles were reversed or something. It was weird," she told him before accepting more ice cream from him. A glance up at his face told her that he was giving that bit of information serious consideration.
"I heard that Coulson wasn't much better. But they'll be fine. They really love each other. They've got a lot in common," he said eventually. Alex considered it and finally gave a nod. They really did. They had a certain love for the rules that could set a person's teeth on edge and both were very good at giving that bland face that suggested they were little more than paper pushers. Alex had seen both Miri and Coulson in action and she knew it to be a blatant lie. They were as dangerous as a person could be. Sighing, she gave a faint nod of her head.
"I suppose you're right," she replied. She was probably worrying about nothing. Miri and Coulson, as individuals, were about as rock solid and steady as people could be. If she was being honest, it was a safe bet she was projecting her own worries about her relationship with Clint onto them and that wasn't fair. She was still kind of surprised that he'd agreed so easily to getting a house together. And, if she was being honest, she was scared out of her mind. Because that meant it was serious.
Thoughts of the house served to distract her from thoughts about Miri and Coulson, which was just as well because if she considered their date for much longer, she'd be imagining them having sex. And she was really damn sure that wasn't a place she was ready to go just yet. Maybe never. Instead, she found herself considering what that house meant to them. And what it would mean to their family and friends. "You're thinking very hard about something. Stop it before you hurt your brain," Clint said softly, his tone nothing but teasing. She pinched him again.
"You don't have to be an ass."
"I thought that was what you loved about me," he shot back, his grin wide and knowing. She rolled her eyes at his meaning.
"There are many things I love about you. At this moment, you being a smart ass is not one of them."
"You want to love it later?" he asked.
She couldn't help the images that question brought to life. "I'll think about it."
"Fair enough," he replied. A moment later, he flicked the television off and turned to look at her. That forced her to either sit up straight and land face first in his lap. She didn't miss a beat and righted herself with ease. "So what has your brain going this time of night? You should be falling asleep and drooling on me by now."
"Wow. Don't make me sound exciting or anything there, Barton," she shot back. He grinned and pulled her close so that he could press a kiss to her lips.
"You're the most exciting thing to ever happen to me, Lexi. You keep me on my toes because I never know what's going to happen. And I wouldn't have it any other way. So what's got you thinking instead of vegging?" The hand not curled around the spoon reached up to brush a few strands of hair back from her face.
"The house," she announced. Before he could leap to the wrong conclusion, she continued on. "I'm just wondering how we want to tell everyone we've moved in together and bought a house. I would kind of like to do it all at once instead of individually. You know?"
He watched her a moment or two, then smiled. "Ah. Safety in numbers. You're hoping that telling everyone together will keep your mother from getting marriage in her eyes."
"One can hope," she returned. He chuckled and tugged her close again.
"I've been thinking about that and I think I have an idea." He paused to scoop up some ice cream for himself, then offered a fresh spoonful to her. "What about that house warming party we talked about before? We can get everything done first. All the painting and moving and decorating. Then we get that grill we discussed and we throw a party. We can invite your family and our friends. Maybe a few people from work. Then everyone can find out all at the same time. And you can have a place to hide if your mother starts nagging." He grinned at her with the last of his statement.
Alex gave his suggestion some consideration. It did seem like a good way to announce their newly established cohabitation to everyone. They were going to start painting the moment the realtor put the keys in their hands. Everything was pretty much a done deal. All they were waiting on was final approval. They'd already done some catalogue shopping and they'd marked things they wanted to get for the house that they didn't already have. A grill for Clint and some patio furniture was top of the list. Okay, so there were a few other things. But those were necessities. The grill and patio furniture were at the top of the fun items list.
"What are you thinking? Hamburgers and hot dogs? Chips, salads, and that kind of thing?"
"Maybe some steaks, too," he added. Alex leaned toward the coffee table to retrieve a pad of paper and a pencil. When she was settled again, she started making notes. First was a list of who to invite, then she'd tackle the food list. "We should look into a picnic table, too. We'll probably need it."
"Most likely," she agreed and jotted it down. She didn't look away from the paper when Clint fed her some more ice cream. The idea of a house warming party was taking root and growing. She liked it. It would be a good way to tell everyone about the change in the relationship she had with Clint. "This is a good idea, Clint."
"Thank you," he said before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And you'll be in your own home. So you'll actually be able to hide from your mother when she starts nagging about marriage and children."
Alex didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she flashed him a wicked grin. "If I was you, I'd be more worried about her cornering you and nagging you about marriage and children. Have fun tending that grill, baby."
"Oh." Clint's face fell. "Shit." Shit, indeed. Alex couldn't help it. She laughed.
~*~*~*~*~
The night air was crisp and slightly cool as they walked. Hand in hand. That was an unusual feeling. Phil had already peeled off his coat and settled it on Miri's shoulders so that they wouldn't get chilled. This after spending so much time talking and laughing over dinner that they'd lost track of time and had needed to be shooed, gently, from their table because the restaurant was closing. They'd apologized profusely and Phil had left a large tip for their server to make up for their inattention.
Miri was not as pleased with their late night destination as she had been with dinner. The last time she'd been here, she'd been climbing through the wreckage of the helicarrier, hoping that Phil was still alive in there somewhere.
Central Park loomed like a dark shadow, the lights from the street only reaching so far past the natural barrier that the tall trees provided. Miri didn't really want to be there. Even now, so long after the accident, the memories of that night threatened to eat her down whole. She didn't realize that she'd moved closer to Phil until he let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him to see that he was still smiling, though he was watching the path before them. "Relax, Miri. We have a different destination tonight."
She took a breath and tried to force the tightness from her muscles. She was only partially successful. But Phil was true to his word and made sure to steer them away from the accident site. Miri knew from reports on the news that there was still a raw wound in the ground where the helicarrier had crashed, though crews were working almost round the clock to return the park to its former glory. She made a concerted effort to push her mind away from those horrible memories. The night had been wonderful so far. She didn't want to ruin it by thinking about that.
They followed the path beneath their feet toward one of the smaller bodies of water in the park. Soon enough, Miri saw that they were heading for Bow Bridge. She wondered at that for a bit, shoulders still slightly tense from memories that loomed like spectres in the shadowed corners of her mind. But Phil was a warm, soothing presence beside her, his arm a solid weight against her shoulders. He'd matched his pace to hers, taking her heels into account, so it felt as if they were strolling through the park.
The air smelled like foliage and freshly cut grass, with lingering remnants of the vendors who had positioned their carts at strategic locations along the park's pathways and peddled their wares earlier that day. And, of course, there was a tickle of Phil's aftershave or cologne, a spicy scent that teased her and brought other nighttime memories to life.
He stopped her in the very center of the bridge, at its highest point over the water below, and turned to look out over the slightly ruffled surface of the lake in the dim moonlight. She heard him take a deep breath in, let it out slowly. A sense of something important sprang to life and seemed to grow between them, Phil's gaze steady on the water. Miri reached out to lay her hand on his arm, a silent offer of support and to let him know that he should go ahead and say what he needed to say. He sighed again before turning to face her. The expression he wore was the softest she'd ever seen on his face. "I've been doing a good deal of thinking, Miri."
Her heart skipped a beat at the note in his words. Then it picked up speed when his hands found hers and took hold of them, grip warm and firm without being confining. His thumbs stroked a gentle rhythm against her skin. "About what, Phil?"
"About us," he replied.
She swallowed and squeezed his hands. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Oh, its a very good thing," he assured her, gave her a little smile that was crooked and so sweet. "After a very unusual conversation with a very unusual source, let's just say that I've come to realize exactly how much of my life is tied to yours. Oh, I'm sure I knew it before. As some kind of abstract idea at the back of my head. But now, after everything that's happened..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. Miri stared at him, eyes wide in surprise and confusion and disbelief. Silence held between them as he considered his next words and Miri's blood pounded so loudly in her ears that she almost didn't hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore and the bridge. "I love you, Miriam. I can't picture a life without you anymore. I don't want a life without you. I love you."
She was speechless for a long, long time and could only stare at him with wide eyes. Phil waited patiently as her brain screamed at the meaning of his words. When it all clicked into place, she threw herself into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling back to stare him in the eye. "I love you, too, Phil." And then she was kissing him again, their mouths moving back and forth against one another as she pressed into him. His arms were strong and tight around her, almost clinging as she told him without words just how much she loved him.
When they pulled apart, they were both gasping for air. Tears clung to Miri's cheeks, tiny droplets of happiness shining softly in the darkness. Phil wiped them away with his thumbs, his touch tender and sweet. He smiled at her, his emotions naked in his eyes. "I don't know what comes next, Miri. I don't have as much experience here as I'd like. But I do know what I want to do. I want to lay you down on the bed and make slow, sweet love to you."
Just like that, desire pooled low in her belly like thick golden honey.
Phil leaned in to kiss her again, soft and sweet and slow and gentle. It was a promise to do all he said and more. When he pulled back, he took her hand in his. "Come on, Miri. Let's go home."
Home. Her heart thrilled at the word and she let him pull her into a slow walk back in the direction they'd come. Home sounded good. It sounded right. And it sounded like the only place in the world she wanted to be.
~*~
There was a dim light shining when Phil's door swung open, creating soft shadows in his apartment. He let Miri step through the door before him, then closed the panel behind them. Before she had the chance to consider what to do, Phil took hold of her hand and started forward, pulling her after him toward the bedroom. She went willingly, if a little hesitantly. This whole night had been nothing like she'd expected and that left her confused as to just what was going to happen once they crossed the threshold into his bedroom. While their usual encounters had always been fulfilling and amazing, something told her that this evening would put every single one of their previous couplings to shame.
And that frightened her.
Phil's hand left hers when they stepped into the bedroom. A few seconds later, a soft light flickered to life as he turned on one of the bedside lamps. Then he crossed around the room so that he could turn on the other one. She could see that his bed was neatly made, dark blue blankets covering the mattress and pillows. A chair sat in the corner, waiting for one of Phil's suit coats or his work out clothes. The room was neat and pristine, nary a speck of dust or a piece of dirty laundry showing. The only thing different about his bedroom was the vase resting on the dresser. It was filled with half a dozen yellow roses in various states of blossom. They were a beautiful and thoughtful touch.
Phil came over to where she stood by the door and helped her out of his coat. She stared at him as he folded the coat in half and laid it across the chair in the corner. Then he came back to her a second time and tugged her gently into his arms. She went willingly, molded herself to his frame as he leaned in for a kiss. His mouth upon hers was slow and sweet and tender, teasing her senses and stirring her emotions to life oh, so slowly. It was nothing but a nearly chaste kiss, but it held a world of promise in it. A thrill of excitement worked its way up Miri's spine. God, she loved him. And she could already tell, from just that single press of lips, that tonight was going to kill her in so many good ways.
He broke from her and steered her toward the bed. "Have a seat and wait for me here. I'll be right back. Don't take anything off yet." Phil was gone before she could formulate an answer.
His words rang in her head. They hadn't been an order. Even so, she found herself obeying without even questioning it. Miri took a seat on the end of the bed and waited for him to return. Her mind turned over just what he could possibly have planned for the evening. Ideas came, only to be tossed away for one reason or another. She could think of numerous things Phil could have planned for the evening, every single one of them exciting and erotic, but a voice at the back of her head said he was going to stick with something a little more traditional for the first official date. Sadly, she really sucked at knowing what traditional was.
She could hear him on the other side of the apartment, humming to himself while he did whatever it was he was doing. She thought she heard the soft thunk of a cupboard door shutting, which would suggest he was in the kitchen. What was he gathering up in the kitchen? Did he have plans to include food play? She considered that for a moment, her body responding in force as she imagined Phil licking whipped cream or something equally sweet off her nipples, and decided that she wouldn't mind food play at all. Not a bit.
He was back before her thoughts could really run away from her. He was carrying two champagne flutes in one hand and a bottle of the bubbly tucked into a champagne bucket was held next to his body by the other arm. She lifted her brow at that, watching as he set everything on the dresser next to the roses. He turned to smile at her, then made a show of popping the cork from the bottle and pouring a measure of the golden liquid in each flute. Carrying the flutes one in each hand, Phil crossed to the bed and sat down next to her. After handing her one flute, he gently tapped their glasses together. "To us. And to a very long, very satisfying night."
She sipped at her champagne slowly. The sake still lingered and she didn't want to risk being ill or anything later. Phil sipped his own drink just as slowly, his gaze locked to her face. When she'd finished about half of the measure he'd poured her, Phil took the flute from her hand and set it on the floor. Then he leaned in and captured her mouth with his own, his hands sliding into the thickness of her hair. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingers clenched slightly around the material of his shirt. He tasted of champagne and need, his lips moving against hers even as he urged her back toward the mattress.
Time fell away, became meaningless as Phil's mouth feasted from hers, as his hands smoothed over her arms and torso. First over the silky feel of her dress, then against the silk of her skin and undergarments as the dress disappeared as if by magic. His fingers traced every inch of her arms, leaving tingling awareness in their wake. His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, and from her cheek to her throat. He nibbled at her flesh, left stinging bites that he soothed with the gentle stroke of his tongue and the sweet press of his lips. She moaned softly, each touch bringing more and more emotion to a boil just under the surface.
When he broke from her, it was so that his eyes could take in everything that she was. His gaze lingered on the darkness of her undergarments as he let his eyes drift from her face down to her toes and back up. Feather light touches traced the lace that edged her bra and forced her to suck in a quick breath. Her breasts swelled up into his touch and a finger slipped between the lace and her flesh. Barely brushed her nipple, already hard and aching for his touch, before pulling away to leave her hungry for more.
Her belly quivered when his hands slid over it. Her thighs tightened as he trailed his fingertips along them. The rasp of her stockings against her skin as his fingers moved over them brought a faint moan up her throat. She thought she heard Phil catch his breath, but it was hard to tell over the pounding of her heart. His hands crested her knees before gliding down to her ankles and then her feet.
He turned his full attention to one foot, pressed a kiss into her arch before turning his head so that he could kiss the side. She sighed, toes curling at the flick of his tongue against the edge of her foot, then she was lost to sensation when he started working his way up the inside of her leg. His hands and mouth worked in tandem to deliver kisses and caresses to her ankle, the curve of her calf, the bend of her knee. The skin on the inside of her thighs was tender and sensitive, drawing moans and gasps and sighs from her as he continued his way up. Her body pulsed with need, ached for him to deliver that last touch that would send her headlong into full blown hunger. But his mouth lifted before his mouth reached the juncture of her thighs and he turned his attention to the other leg.
Phil repeated the process, starting with the bottom of her foot before working his way up her leg. His actions were slow and measured, precise. Each press of his lips was a promise of more. Each touch of his hand was another log thrown on the fire of passion that had started in her abdomen. She watched him as he traveled higher up her thigh, saw the way he watched her in return. He had yet to remove any of his clothing, leaving her to wonder if he was turned on by this or if he was doing what he thought she wanted him to do. There was a part of her brain that demanded she grab him and pull him up so that she could work his pants off of him. So that she could touch him and make him want her as much as she wanted him.
Her thoughts were shattered abruptly when his mouth grazed the silky crotch of her panties. The sensation tore a loud gasp from her throat and the sound encouraged Phil to touch her again. This time, he pressed his mouth fully against her, let his tongue slide out to push at the material of her panties. Persistence saw him working his way between her nether lips, his tongue driving her panties between them so that he could drag it across her clit. She squirmed under him, felt his hands tighten on her inner thighs before spreading them as wide a they would go. The pressure of his tongue and the material rubbing against her most intimate flesh made her heart pound in her chest, made her breath come in short gasps.
He knew her body so well, knew every last place he could touch that would drive her wild with need. She wanted to beg him to fuck her, but something stayed the words in her throat. She was sure that he would only move on to full intercourse when he decided it was time. Dear god in heaven, it was going to be a long night.
He ate at her clit through her panties. Sucked her nether lips into his mouth. Laved them with his tongue. Ate her sanity away with each nip of his teeth and flick of his tongue. Worked at her so that the tension built and grew. Pushed her to the very brink.
Phil pulled back before she could tumble over the edge, drawing a strangled cry from her. He ignored the inarticulate protest, focused instead on ridding her of the garter belt that held her stockings up. When he had it unhooked, it was tossed carelessly to the floor. Her panties followed after it, and then her bra. He stared down at her, clad only in a pair of silk stockings and the jewelry she'd put on to compliment her dress. His gaze raked over her again, just as slowly as before. This time, though, there was a hint of possession darkening his gaze. And his position on the bed, kneeling between her splayed legs, showed her that he was indeed as turned on by what he'd done to her as she was.
She ached to reach out and cup his cock, to run fingers and mouth and tongue over it. Ached to taste the salty flavor of him as she lapped up the pearly drops that leaked from the slit in his cock head. She wanted to take him into her mouth and suck him off until he lost all composure. She just wanted him with a fierceness that startled her.
His hands trailed over her body again, this time touching the flesh that had been covered by her underwear. She shivered at the heat in his touch, reached up to tackle the buttons on his shirt. Phil didn't stop her, but he didn't make it easy on her. His hands were constantly moving, thumbs tracing the swollen folds of flesh between her thighs before slipping between them into her moist heat. Fingers joined thumbs, stroked in and out with slow, languid motions that made her want to cry with frustration. Just enough friction to arouse her desire, but not nearly enough to bring her any kind of satisfaction. "Damn it, Phil. Please," she whispered, begging him for more with eyes and words.
He smiled down at her, eyes tender and kind. Filled with hunger and desire. "I am, Miri. I promise you. I am."
He launched a new assault on her senses, lips curling around each nipple in turn so that he could suck on them and nibble at them until she was incoherent. Each new touch of his lips or teeth or tongue sent ribbons of pleasure unfurling through her until she was a quivering mess of flesh and feelings. She whimpered softly, arms at her sides and eyelids heavy. His caresses pushed her ever closer to the brink, filled her with hunger and need so powerful that it was frightening. More than that, though, his every touch and taste and tease told her without words just how lucky he was to have her in his life. How happy he was to be there with her at that very moment.
How much he loved her.
That's when she understood. This night wasn't a typical night for them. Well, technically, it was for them. But it wasn't. It was meant to be a night for her. A night during which Phil planned on showing Miri just how special she was to him. Using every method at his disposal.
That knowledge was the ultimate aphrodisiac. The flood gates opened and desire such as she'd never felt poured into her, filled her up until she was full and floating on it. Drunk on it. Her moans came lower and fuller. Her gasps were shorter. Her sighs longer.
Phil only moved away from her breasts when the nipples were raw and sore from his lavish treatment. He blazed a trail down her abdomen, drawing her flesh into his mouth so he could bite down on it and leave marks on her skin. So he could lay claim to her in the most visual manner possible. The outer edges of her belly button was given the same treatment before his tongue dipped into it and soothed the sharp pain he'd left behind. And then he was drifting further down.
Miri nearly came off the bed when his mouth settled over her nether lips. His fingers were there to peel her lips back and allow him access to her clit. He dragged the tip of his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth and gently grating his teeth over the sensitive flesh. He released it as quickly as he'd taken hold of it, his tongue moving down to dip inside of her. It pressed deep before he pulled back and once more dragged his tongue up over her clit. This time, his fingers speared into her and stroked as far into her as they could go. Her hips arched up into his touches, silently begging him to give her relief from the building tension.
He sucked and nipped and licked and stroked, working her ever closer to the edge of oblivion. Every last nerve ending was alive and washed in sensation. Tingles and heat ran under her skin. Her nipples were puckered and sore, hungry for his mouth or hands. Her hands lifted of their own accord, fingers tweaking and tugging at them to relieve some of the growing tension. Phil's mouth and fingers continued to work at her clit, continued to slide into her so that he could stroke her needs higher. She felt like she was going to shatter under the weight of the growing need. And she was so close. So close. He just needed to move his fingers a little faster. Press them in a little deeper. Tease her clit a little harder.
Almost as if he read her mind, he did just that. Teased her harder. Pressed deeper. Stroked faster. Sucked more vigorously. Until she was right on the cusp, until she could feel that the pleasure was on the verge of exploding open into a galaxy of glittering stars and bright colors. He pulled back yet again.
The sound that came from her throat was filled with disbelief and displeasure. How could he do that to her? How could he leave her hanging when she so obviously needed to fly apart?
Phil climbed from the bed and moved over to the dresser. She wanted to get up and put her clothes back on, wanted to leave and go home. But her limbs weighed a thousand pounds each and moving was so hard. So instead, she rolled her head to the side and watched as he ran his fingers over each rose in the vase. After a few moments, he extracted one of the flowers and turned to show it to her. The blossom was still fairly tight but some of the petals had opened up and gave clues to the flower that would come. His free hand slid open a drawer and drew a small blade from within. She watched, rapt, as he cut nearly all of the stem off, leaving only a short length with which to hold the flower. The knife went back into the drawer, then he returned to the bed.
The rose felt like cool silk as he trailed it across her body. The curl on the petals tickled her skin. They caught on her nipples when he dragged the blossom over each one of them. They were so sensitive that the touch of the petal saw them tightening up even further. She whimpered softly and turned pleading eyes to him. Phil only smiled and moved the flower to its next destination.
Her stomach quivered as the yellow bud twirled over its surface. It tickled. And at the same time, it was teasing and sensual and made the fire in her belly roar with need. He traced patterns against her skin, shapes and sigils and what felt like letters. The small part of her brain that was still functioning suggested that he was marking her as his just the same as he had when he'd used his lips and teeth and tongue. And when he finished marking her with whatever brand he'd chosen to use, the rose moved lower again.
The brush of the petals against her swollen flesh was like a butterfly's caress. It was soft and gentle and barely there. His free hand rose and carefully peeled her lips apart so that he could drag the edges of the petals over her clit. Miri's back arched with the feel of it. He shifted his hold on the flower so that the bud was parallel to her body, then dragged it over her clit. It shouldn't have felt as erotic as it did. It shouldn't have seen sparks erupting under her skin the way it did. Maybe she was so worked up that it didn't matter, so sensitive that even a breath would send her tumbling into the abyss. Each stroke of the rose saw her spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
The rose continued to slide over her clit, continued to circle and tease it. The fingers on Phil's other hand slid into her again, stroking with more force and speed this time. The fire built, her hips moving in time with his ministrations. She begged him with incomprehensible words, hands pulling at her nipples once more. She was so close. So close. Just a little more friction would see her there. She just needed...
"That's it, Miri. Let go. Just let go and come for me," Phil whispered, his voice filling the room. He pressed deeper with his fingers, ground the rose against her clit. A twist of his fingers saw them finding just the right spot and Miri felt herself bursting apart on the inside. She shattered and splintered and broke and came back together just in time to do it all again. The intensity of her orgasm rolled over her like a freight train, pulled away to leave her limp on the bed. Her chest heaved and her limbs were jelly and her insides felt like liquid. She looked up to find Phil watching her with an expression that was honest and open.
"Wow," she managed.
Phil smiled at her. Leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, that same gentle and tender one he'd given her when they'd first gotten there. "I love you, Miri. And I'm going to spend the whole night showing you just how much."
~*~*~*~*~
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(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-13 06:55 pm (UTC)I love how everyone's settling in to how things are now and how each couple is falling into a routine (or just starting a new one) and feeling far more... coupley than they did at the beginning. It's a lovely progression!
Also... again... DAMN! Whoo. the rose was a lovely touch. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-13 07:28 pm (UTC)also, it is really nice to see everyone doing normal couple things. i mean, sure there's going to be action in most everyone's life. but it won't always be action.
i am so pleased you enjoyed, hon!
(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-13 07:28 pm (UTC)SO glad to see you again, LCA!:-) Another wonderful chapter! Phil and Miri...holy crap, I need a cigarette...or two. Miri is one lucky woman! Although Astrid and Elsa are pretty damn lucky too. I hope we get to see a glimpse of them at Coney Island - that should be great! :-) And of course Alex and Clint...the housewarming should be fun!
I'm SO looking forward to these and whatever else your awesome brain has in store! *applauds heartily*
Damn Alex. Damn her to hell indeed. (Yay Elsa! LOL ;-) )
(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-14 03:00 am (UTC)I thought my favorite bit was going to be Tony losing at Monopoly until The Rose. Now my mind is blown.
Ah...Whew! When I can think again, I think I'll be looking forward to seeing how Elsa and Astrid and their men enjoy Coney Island. And how Clint will manage to handle the inevitable questions from his would-be mother in law. And whether the steaks will burn. LOL.
Stellar work!