Tony Stark (in_extremis) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2012-09-03 23:39:00 |
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Backswing
Characters: Tony and Natasha
Setting: Manhattan Woods, late lunch hour
Content: Family friendly?
Summary: This regime change at SHIELD is making everyone uncomfortable, and people need to keep their trusted ones close.
It was Labour Day, excruciatingly hot and the end of a summer already lost to work. The Club, of course, was open for those still recovering losses over a long, wet lunch and a clumsy round of golf with clients who didn't have the patience for a holiday with family. It made the dining room intolerable to Tony, and even the solarium where many bodies spilled over to finish their last, next, and final cocktails. It was supposed to be cool respite out of the late season heat sealed in the tennis court. Instead, he gulped his water watching the window with an intently furrowed brow, watching the girl he had finished a very one-sided match with bounce around her drooping mother, the latter already sagging with a thousand years under her high-waisted pants and melting like wax out on that court. If she died out there, her husband might follow and SE would be down a billion dollar client. Where was Pepper to navigate this kind of situation when you needed her? Someone else's wife had just strolled onto the court, spinning her racquet in anticipation and giving Tony absolutely nothing to help remember her name. Bra size and preferred colour scheme, yes, but if he didn't place the combo soon she was going to give her attention to someone quicker. This was so much easier when he could just sleep with them; making conversation and actually playing tennis when invited here was exhausting. Maybe he just hadn't found his stride yet. Maybe it was time to go.
Tipping the last of the ice in his glass into his mouth, Tony watched the daughter bounce her elderly mother out of the sun before pushing his cup aside and turning away. The air in the solarium felt as stagnant as that court, and close despite the wide windows facing the rolling, open green with this many big personalities jockeying for position. Tony wasn't playing anymore, eyes on the door and ignoring the few calls for his attention, to share a drink and the disappointed sneers at his back. They'd forget it by the time they collapsed wherever they landed. The hallway wasn't so oppressive, only one man passing Tony on his way to the changing room who kept his head politely bowed, but something made Tony stop before he reached his destination and turn cautiously, biting his tongue and listening. The energy was off, uncomfortable not in the drowsy, heat-bogged way of the crowd he left behind, but electric. It gave him shivers despite the sun, one hand against the door marked GENTLEMEN and gaze back down the hall, perfectly position to jump out of his skin when someone else jerked the door away from him from the other side. "Sorry about that--! Excuse me, sorry again. Hey, Tony! Haven't seen you in a while!" Et cetera and so forth. Hand over his stuttering heart, Tony grinned without energy and made his excuses and promises to be back for a round, and they wouldn't see each other going the opposite directions next time. He really wasn't ready for this; he was starting to believe in ghosts.