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I am Iron Man. (builtwithscraps) wrote in wariscoming,

Tony Stark had a very interesting definition of the word dinner. Helena probably thought that they were going to sit down at some nice, local restaurant, where they would share a meal, talk business, and get to know one another. The plan was something like that, but it involved less hustle and bustle and more of that comfort, privacy, and show that did all the telling that Tony found he personally preferred. The car that picked Helena up didn't deliver her to some high class restaurant - or, at least, as high class of a restaurant one could find in Lawrence, Kansas. Instead, she was driven out to Stark Industries itself. It was there that Helena was then directed to the penthouse floor, where Tony had taken it upon himself to build his own personal restaurant, carried by one of the best cooking teams in the country. For now, anyway. Tony was looking to up that a tad by finding one of the best cooking teams in the world. One thing at a time. He was, after all, only just beginning to re-settle into the lifestyle that he had been so very used to back at home. With his business only just re-established, Tony was going to have to do a lot of legwork before he found himself fully content with the world that surrounded him.

Not that one could ever be fully content with the world that surrounded themselves when there was an apocalypse annoyingly banging at one's door, but Tony would do the best that he could. If nothing else, an apocalypse amounted to war, which made the need for his serves all the more desperate.

That didn't mean Tony had to like it, but there it was.

When Helena arrived, she was escorted over to a comfortable table set out by a series of tall windows that easily overlooked the city. The spacious room, obviously designed for privacy, had a dozen carefully placed candles spread throughout it's interior, meshing well with the lighting. The table was lined with expensive eating utensils, which were placed on top of an even more expensive tablecloth. The chair that was pulled out for Helena was made of leather and trimmed with a design that made it look as though it were made in the very room that it was currently placed within. Then there was the thin, touch-screen remote control that was placed along the opposite side of the table, where Tony was to be seated. If there was one thing to be assumed about that remote, it was the simple fact that - because it belonged to Tony Stark - it was likely connected to something highly technical and impressive.

And for the record? It was.

A few minutes after her entrance, Tony strode into the penthouse dressed in one of his many fancy suits. He greeted one of the servers with a smile, walked over to the table, and raised a hand when yet another server attempted to pull his seat out for him. For all the trouble that Tony went through to get this place up to class, there were still some things that Tony preferred to do for himself. Sitting down on his own was one of them. Rather than plopping down right away, however, Tony circled the table and offered Helena his hand. "Miss Wells. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

That was a half truth. More often than not, Tony left people waiting for him far longer than he should have just because he could. Fortunately for Helena (and probably her appetite), Tony liked Helena and had nothing more heavy than usual on his plate, so his timing was only slightly off. And this time? It was only halfway on purpose.