Yelling solves nothing, but it certainly can get a point across
At five to five, we rolled up in front of Stark Tower in Luna’s beautiful, bright red Lamborghini Centenario LP 770-4. And then from the parking garage and into the elevator and then we were on our way.
J.A.R.V.I.S. must have been expecting us because the doors closed and the elevator started without us pushing a button. Flicking my eyes to the ceiling, I spotted the tiny, well-concealed camera in the corner. Smiling, I said, “Hello, Jarvis.”
“Good evening, Ms. Suero, Professor Draconis,”
“It’s nice to meet you, finally.”
“As near as I am capable, the feeling is mutual. And now that you are here, and presumably here to see Mister Stark, can it be assumed that there will be no more hacking of my servers from here on out?”
The smile on my face morphed into a smirk and I replied, “No promises, we’ll see how things go.”
I would swear that Jarvis sounded more amused as he answered, “Yes, we will.” And the elevator continued its smooth ascent to the higher levels.
I looked away from the camera and found Luna staring at me, eyes wide, jaw hanging open. “What?!”
“Were you just flirting with an A.I?”
“No, I was flirting with Jarvis.”
“And I suppose that makes all the difference?”
“Doesn’t it?” (And Jarvis must have been paying attention because perfect timing, the doors ‘whooshed’ open and out of the elevator I stepped.) “Aren’t you coming? I’m pretty certain we’re here to scrape at least one of your Soulmates off the floor.”
Luna’s grumbling behind me was practically music to my ears as Jarvis subtlety guided us down the correct corridor in order to reach Stark’s lab. (We would later learn that he had to take us in the back way because of the programing that locked the main doors, plus it gave us a chance to sneak up on the silly scientist. (Drunk Science! is not as fun as it sounds after all. Or at least, it isn’t usually.)
We found Stark sleeping, or more precisely passed out on the floor of his workshop, mostly empty bottle of something in his hand. Luna looked at me and I held up my hands. “Your Soulmate, this one’s on you, unless otherwise asked.” I walked past her, carefully picking my steps over Stark and the detritus on the floor. “But, this,” I plucked the bottle from the man’s limp grasp, “the least I can do is get rid of this—phew! He must be upset; I didn’t think Mr. Playboy Philanthropist even owned a bottle of booze this cheap. Although,” I straightened up, tossing the bottle in a nearby trashcan, “I think you’ve got a great opening right here.”
“Oh?” Luna asked, voice lilting slightly, interested despite herself.
“He’s dreaming, and I do mean dreaming. Are you listening? Because if you could feel what he’s feeling that corresponds with those thoughts, well, you’d be as red as the Iron Man armor.”
Luna did, then predictably blushed, and then grinned evilly. "Watch this!" she said, hiking her skirt up before straddling his prone form and then pulled an ice cube from thin air and slipped it between her lips. With the ice cube in her mouth, she rolled her body against Stark’s, and then began to run the ice cube up his neck. When he began to come around, Luna nipped him, just a sort of ‘nope, not a dream feeling’. Still mostly out of it, one of Stark’s hands landed on one of my friend’s legs. Eyes still closed, the poor bastard frowned and awkwardly patted her thigh. But when Stark moved his hands to grab hold of Luna’s hips, Luna jumped to her feet. "Welp! Off to dinner!" she said brightly, Cheshire cat grin spreading wide over her face.
Stark blinked up at us blearily, one hand still grasping uselessly at the air where Luna had been while he scrubbed his face with the other. “Wait, what? What just—where are you going? Come back—”
“Nope, sorry, I'm not going to take advantage of a drunken man.” Luna patted Stark on the head and then quickly adjusted her skirt, using just a little magic to get rid of the wrinkles.
Genius on the floor was drunk, but not that drunk because even as he sat there, his expression shifted from the drunken haze to just an expression of actual confusion. “Wait, where are you going? Take advantage! By all means!”
“Nuuuuu. Dinner, I’ll be going to go do that now. Bye!” Luna waved and sashayed out the door.
I shook my head, to think, I used to be pretty sure I was the dramatic one in our relationship. But the writer versus the actor, well, that can be a tough call to make. But in this case, I’d have to shift back to being the sensible one for a bit. “I’m not in the habit of giving free advice. And we both still have legitimate reasons to be pissed at you, but you’re obviously hopeless so here’s your one freebie: make this right—shower, change, and be better than halfway sober by dinner.”
As I turned to follow after Luna, Stark asked from the floor, “So if I need more advice, what’s the price?”
Smirking, I replied, “Haven’t decided yet,” and walked out the door.
***
“You know, if I didn’t know you as well as I did, I’d have almost thought you were on my side of the slash, what with that little stunt back there.” I commented when I caught up with Luna outside the elevator. “But then again, you are so channeling me, what with the sheath dress, killer heels, and hair pinned in a tight bun—color scheme aside, we are doing a ‘twin’ thing, oh if the papers could only see us!”
Luna elbowed me, or tried to as we stepped into the elevator, and muttered, “Alright, so there’s one non-subby bone in my body, the ‘dangle things just out of reach and smile like an angel while doing it’ bone. Happy yet, you bloody sadist?”
“Not currently bloody, not yet.” I replied, deliberately misunderstanding. Luna glared, I smiled, and then we were both laughing like idiots. “So,” I said when I caught my breath, “who do we roust next?”
“Probably the Capsicle, if Pepper’s right and he’s been down in the gym or the training rooms for the better part of the week, he’s going to seriously need a shower.”
“Alright then. Jarvis, if you please?”
“Certainly, Miss.” And away we went. The elevator door opened with barely a sound, not that we would have heard it over the frenetic sounds of skin hitting leather. (What? It’s a very distinctive sound, okay?) Luna and I looked at each other and stepped in, each hovering slightly over floor so as not to catch our heels on any matting on the floor. (Plus everybody knew that street shoes were not allowed in the gym).
Following the sound, we found the sad popsicle of a supersoldier, beating the shit out of a punching bag. After several long minutes of admiring the view, (hey, not my Soulmate, but I’ve got eyes, and not even Luna can fault me for using them. Not that she’s paying attention to me, what with the view we were taking in?) but still the soldier didn’t notice us. Suddenly his moves sped up, and then with a resounding ‘Thud’, the bag flew off its chain and into the far wall. Head bent and breathing heavy, Rogers looked like hell.
Luna was moved to pity and spoke up, “As pleasant as that view was, you’re expected for dinner by six. If nothing else, the army should have taught you punctuality.”
I muffled some inappropriate laughter when that blond head shot up and he nearly tripped over himself turning around to see Luna, head tossed back, hands on her hips, the full nine yards. But Luna wasn’t done, she was on a roll, and all I could do was stand there and let her go, full steam ahead. “Because, I certainly know that the army didn’t teach you anything about tactics, Mr. Man with a Plan. If they had, then you certainly would have realized that nothing about your previous approach was subtle, helpful, strategically sound, or otherwise known as ‘good idea.’” (Oh shit, there went the air quotes!)
Luna continued, “As such, I am here only because of an invitation; hand delivered no less, for dinner, no more. And somehow, I have been further bamboozled into feeling some small amount of concern for you hopeless lot that somehow are my Soulmates. Luckily for you, food tends to make me feel more magnanimous. Also the fact that my interest in kicking your ass, collectively, is severely dampened by how unfair the fight would be in your current condition.” Luna brushed some nonexistent lint off her immaculate skirt, “So, dinner. Six o’clock, clean, presentable. Spit spot,” and then she once again flounced away.
Drama queen, I thought, shaking my head ruefully. Shoe was on the other foot now, normally she played John to my Sherlock, cleaning up after my unintentional blunders. Now, I was definitely feeling Watson-like, cleaning up after her very intentional actions. And the drama queen with a choreographer’s eye for symmetry means she’d be doing this two more times before we even made it to dinner.
Rogers was still staring at the spot where Luna had just been. I rolled my eyes, this was just getting sad. “Yes, she was real. Yes, she’s actually here. Yes, you have another chance to make things right. Have I answered all the questions you couldn’t find the breath or brains to ask? Yes, I have. So run along, there was an implicit ‘don’t keep me waiting’ tacked on to the end of her last statement.” I left him still staring in my wake, following once more in the footsteps of my best friend, something I would lay money that I’d be doing a lot of in coming days, against my usual preference, but one sacrifices for one’s friends, don’t they?
***
Later, in the elevator, I side-eyed Luna, “So, now to the demigods. Which one first?”
“Probably, Thor-eal. If he’s moping, he also is likely in need of a shower. If we bother to come for dinner, then they can damn well look like they give a fuck.”
“But who would they give it to? Certainly not you and obviously not me.”
“What?!”
“I thought you didn’t like it when people said that around you?” (Yes, I was on a roll. Yes, I’m terrible. No, I’m not sorry).
“Don’t make jokes when I’m trying to be serious!”
“Sirius died in the fifth book—spoiler alert!”
“You’re terrible!”
“I know.” I smiled gleefully at Luna who couldn’t even look at me, even while the corners of her mouth began to twitch. I counted it as a win. “Jarvis, where can we find Thor Odinson?”
“Master Thor is currently in his quarters, as is Master Loki, on this same floor as I am sure that would be your next question?” ‘Whoosh’ went the doors.
“J-man, you are wonderful, you know that?”
“I’m sure the sentiment has been expressed before.”
“Master?” Luna dead stopped and wavered, fanning herself with one hand, “Oh my . . . “
I turned back and pulled my floating (again) bestie out of the elevator. “Come on, honey, can’t channel me when you’re floating. Also before that title should get you, they gotta earn it. Just because they’re pretty, doesn’t mean that you lower your standards!”
“Right, right, I’m good, I’m real good, everything is perfectly fine. Soulmates, where they at? I gotta, gotta . . . yell, that’s right! I’m yelling at them!”
“Oh boy,” I muttered to myself as we came to a stop in front of the door that Jarvis had led us too.
Luna pounded on the door, “Hello-oo! Wake up! Stop moping! I did not just get up and get dressed to have you not show up for dinner! Thor-eal!” There was significantly more shouting, but I started to tune Luna out, the one-sided shouted conversation wasn’t that interesting.
A door slammed open, just down the hall, “Who makes such racket?!” Long, lean, and emo stormed out of his room. He stopped in his tracks so abruptly I half imagined he’d pulled something—but he’d just caught sight of Luna. “You!”
Luna turned and smiled brightly, and just a little maniacally, “Me! Oh good, you’re here. Wake your lunkheaded brother’s ass up and make sure you both are clean and presentable for dinner by six! No excuses!”
A soft sound and the Thunder god himself peered sadly into the hall. By Zeus’ beard! It is not okay for a man that size to have puppy eyes! Puppy eyes don’t even do anything for me, but why does he have them?! Luna caught sight of him and nearly lost focus, and he himself suddenly straightened up upon catching Luna’s gaze. Luna rolled her shoulders back and pointed in the prince’s face, “Listen up, Goldilocks; clean, dressed, and at dinner by six. Got it? Good.” And once again, she strode out—and I was so glad this was the last time.
“I’ve been doling out one free piece of advice, against my better judgement, to both the other morons who ended as Soulmates to my best friend, so it looks like it’s your turn, and what a pity, you’re both together, you’ll end up with the same advice.” I rolled my eyes; these idiots needed all the help they could get. “Take this chance while you can to make things right, because there may not be another. Clean, presentable, and at dinner by six—she’s not going to want to see you a minute sooner than that, so take the full amount of time to look your best. Pretty tends to make her feel more magnanimous. So does food, actually. Oh look at that, you got two pieces of advice for the price of one, aren’t you lucky?”
***
“Well, that didn’t take as long as I thought it was going to.” Luna stated as we wandered down another hallway. “Now what shall we do?”
“I’m not sure,” I began, then stopped and looked up at the ceiling. “What do you think? Any suggestions?”
“Rin? Who are you talking to? Jarvis, is she talking to you?”
“No, Professor, I do not believe so.”
“Rin, please don’t tell me you’ve lost it.”
“The better question is did I ever ‘have it’? Besides, you’d know the answer yourself if you were listening.” Luna looked at me and then at the ceiling and then back again, looking puzzled and very concerned.
“Well, it looks like I’ve been found out.” A muffled voice suddenly responded. And then panel in the ceiling opened up (one that I don’t think actually was supposed to open) and Clint Barton somersaulted out, landing lightly on his feet next to us.
“Oh! You could have just told me you were talking to Biceps!”
“Biceps?” Poor Clint, he was vacillating between confusion and glancing down at his own arms.
“Yeah, we’ve got a thing for nicknames and pet names. Biceps isn’t exactly imaginative, but it is accurate, you’ve got fantastic arms.” Oh boy, now I did it, the barest trace of a blush was beginning to climb up his face. (And I was so okay with that.)
But then his inner snark reasserted itself and he quipped, “Shall I stand here like this,” he shifted to a stereotypical body builder pose, smirking the whole time, “to make up for our disastrous first meeting?”
A smile quite unbidden crept across my face and Luna muffled a most undignified sound. We couldn’t help it; Clint was funny. “Well, I’m sure there’s blame to be had on both sides in our case. In retrospect, given your background, having ‘birdboy’ scrawled on your skin can’t have been pleasant.” I was feeling a little bad about that one, these last few days of sulking also meant I had a lot of time to argue with myself. And lose.
“When they started calling me Hawkeye, things suddenly made more sense, but it was interesting to say the least. On the other hand, a patronizing dismissal of your abilities wasn’t one of my smarter moves, and I’ve made plenty—Nat would tell you—but perhaps, we could start over?” Clint straightened and offered his hand.
I looked for a long moment at his outstretched hand before I reached out and took it. Even I’m not that petty. “I think I’d like that,” I said, still smiling, “Since we we’re introduced properly, my name is Rin Suero and this is Luna Draconis, Soulmate of four of your idiot teammates.”
“Clint Barton, it’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he returned, shaking both our hands and then gesturing to himself, “Well, do I pass muster? Am I allowed to come to dinner?”
“Was that blanket permission to check you out?” Luna blurted out, and then clapped a hand over her mouth because that was bad, even for us.
He just laughed and gestured to all of him again, and so in this instance, we took that as permission given. Collared shirt, sleeves rolled up, buttoned vest and dark wash jeans—I certainly had no problems with it—and then I realized I’d said that last part aloud. For a brief moment, I thought about being embarrassed, but then I remembered that no, that’s exactly how I act, there was no point in being embarrassed. Clint’s little smile told me that he certainly wasn’t opposed
“I overheard you telling her Soulmates to be presentable for dinner,” Clint gestured at Luna, “I kinda figured that rule was for everyone.”
“Well, if it is, neither of us would complain.” Luna and I laughed and then looked back at Clint. “You’re more than welcome at dinner; we certainly can’t stop you from eating in your own home. But, you might do us a small favor?”
“Oh?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Would you consider playing the part of the gentleman and escort us to dinner? I’ve a mind to piss off my Soulmates and this would do quite nicely—making a fuss about dinner and then strolling in on another man’s arm—wouldn’t you say?”
“It would be my pleasure,” Clint returned, sweeping us an old-fashioned bow and then offering us each an arm. “But since we’re trading favors, might you both do one for me?”
“Fair is fair,” I said, “What’s going on?”
“Since you both were kind enough to scrape Tony off the floor, maybe before we stroll on in to dinner, we could swing by and coax Bruce out of his lab?”
“Aw, you’re sweet,” Luna said, a sentiment I could find no fault with. “That’s hardly a favor; it’s just being a decent human being. This is his home too; he shouldn’t have to hide just because Stark and the others are being overly dramatic assholes. Of course we’ll go.”
The three of us headed to the elevator and down to what we were informed was the Mad Scientists’ Lair(s), or otherwise the R&D levels. Clint had us stop outside of one set of closed glass doors, “Bruce’s private lab. He hasn’t really come out for a while, mostly because with Tony on one of his benders, well.” Clint shrugged, there wasn’t much her could say without sharing things that weren’t his place, a feeling and a thought that Luna and I both picked up on.
“It’s all fine, no worries. But let’s get him out of there, it’s almost time for dinner, and we did tell her boys not to be late,” I said easily, smoothing over what could have been a very awkward conversation if we had been anyone else.
“Jarvis, patch me through, please.”
“Of course, Mr. Barton.”
“Hey, Bruce, it’s Clint. Dinner calls, Italian tonight. Plus, you know, we’ve got guests, ones who just scraped Tony and the others off the floor. And after all the time’s they’ve come to our assistance, a proper introduction might be at least polite.”
It was quiet for a long minute and what sounded like a sigh from the other end of the com. Then a door opened on the far end of the lab and out the good doctor stepped, crossed the long room to the other side of the glass doors, and exited his lab. “Doctor Bruce Banner, you might remember Luna Draconis, she came and got us in China, and also the Soulmates of our previously moping teammates?”
“I apologize, but my memory of that rescue was just a little hazy.” The doctor took Luna proffered hand with a polite smile, “But it’s very nice to meet you, officially.” They shook hands and Luna murmured a pleasantry.
“And this is Rin Suero, the secondary force behind our rescue and my Soulmate.”
And then of course, because I’m me, what came out of my mouth was, “Well, hello there, Doctor Sexy. I am so pleased to meet you.”
The hand he had been politely extending to me dropped and then the doctor ducked his head and blushed. Peering up at me shyly through stupidly long eyelashes, he said yet more familiar Words, “Well, um, you certainly know how to make a first impression, don’t you?”
Oh my God . . . I thought as I heard my internal Soulmate counter click up one more: 2/5.