Nightingale | An Avengers Tale

Chapter 36 ~ honesty

The conversation with Bucky had gone well to a point. It turns out neither of us are the best at controlling our tempers early in the morning. Real shocker there.

Although looking back on it, I think I had the worse reaction. I was the one that finally lost it and told him he was less of a killjoy under mind control. Then I hung up. What can I say? It was definitely not my proudest moment.

After that, I had attempted to fall back asleep. It hadn't worked. Which is precisely the reason I was still laying here, wide awake, over analyzing every stupid thing I've said or done in my entire life. It's a pretty long list, and this time of introspection was proving to be frustrating as my brilliance was only resulting in the list growing exponentially.

"Double fudge." I muttered under my breath. Sleep was not coming back to me tonight. Correction. It would come five minutes before I had to get up.

Annoyed with myself, I again got out of bed. But this time, I tiptoed to the door that led to the rest of the Stark Mansion. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously shoved the door open and slipped out into the dark hallway.

I gingerly treaded to the kitchen to raid the Pop-Tart stash that I knew was hidden in the third cupboard. I quickly pulled open the door and began to feel for the box. Weird. The box wasn't where it normally was.

"If you're looking for the Blueberry Pop-Tarts, they're on the table."

"What the Moose Tracks?" I shouted as I spun around to face a very wide awake Tony Stark.

"Quiet down Baskin-Robbins." He joked. "Some people are still trying to sleep."

"What are you trying to do?" I continued to angrily hiss. "Give me a heart attack?" I crossed my arms in an attempt to look at angry as I felt.

He smirked at my reaction before handing me a plate of warm pot tarts. "They just got out of the toaster."

I glanced down at the plate in my hands. Through the dim lighting, I could make out that they were just the way I liked.

"Hot chocolate will be done in a few minutes." He continued as he motioned for me to have a seat.  

"How?" I flatly questioned as I numbly sat down on a stool across from him.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y." He shrugged as he began to mess with the Keurig. "Every night you wake up and come out here for Blueberry Pop-Tarts and French Vanilla Hot Chocolate." He glanced at his watch. "You were running late by 12 minutes."

"I was on the phone." I coldly responded as I glanced down at my plate.

"Ah." He nodded as he shook a grimace from his face. "And how is Buzz Lightyear?"

"He's fine." I shrugged as I caught his nickname for Bucky. What was it with him and nicknames? "Mad at me." I quietly continued, "But that's nothing new."

"If he's mad at you I must be in the range of what?" He paused as he passed me a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Loathing?"

"Sounds accurate, Sherlock." I nodded as I gently blew on the mug that was now warming both my hands.

"So." He slowly began as he settled into a chair across from me. "I talked to Fury earlier."

I glanced up without thinking. "About what?" My voice grew lower as I glared over at him.