I Don't Believe We've Met

It's Just Business

"Okay, read it back to me."

"Tony, we've read and revised this a hundred times. It's good," you reassured him. "The press conference isn't until tomorrow anyway, so sleep on it. You'll read it with fresh eyes and see that it's fine as is. Let's just call it a day."

As if your words had strong suggestive powers, Tony blinked heavily and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes with a soft groan under his breath. He was more tired than he realized, now that you brought it up; he knew that hiring you would pay off. "Yeah, you're probably right," he sighed, leaning back in his chair with a long yawn. "Any big plans for the evening?"

"Nope, just a night in for me," you smiled. "I've been away so much lately with work that my ridiculously over-eager, obsessive, and pushy boss gives me, that a slothful evening on the couch sounds perfect. How about you?"

"Well, now I'm finding a new publicist."

"Hey! Rude, Stark!" you huffed. You put your foot up on the side of your desk and pushed, rolling your chair over to him to land a sharp slap on his arm when you were too lazy to stand up and walk the few feet to him. "You could never replace me. I know waaaaay too much about you now."

"Hmm, right. Point taken."

"See? You are a smart guy," you chuckled, turning away to get ready to leave. "I'm sure you have plans tonight, right? Something overpriced and extravagant?"

Seeing that you were quickly throwing your belongings in your bag as if to make a clean run for the door, Tony stood up, albeit with a tired groan, and moved to position himself between you and the exit. He leaned against your desk with arms crossed over his chest and a troublemaking smirk across his lips. "Yep, definitely. I'm watching shitty movies with you."

"Sorry, I don't remember sending out that invitation."

"My building, kiddo. Also, my movies." When your reaction still didn't elicit the response he had hoped for, and when you continued packing, he began to worry that he might have actually offended you. "But hey, unless you really have a problem with me hanging around? I'll buy dinner."

"You don't have to do that, Tony. Of course you can join me. I mean, if dinner just happened to show up, I wouldn't...complain..." you paused, someone in the window catching your eye. You gave him a tap on the shoulder and pointed him towards the confusing scene, your voice dropping to a whisper as if you would be found out. "Um, Tony? What's wrong with Loki?"

"Hmm?" He turned to see the same view, with Loki pacing back and forth in the hallway with his hands tightly clasped behind his back and his lips pursed with determination. His appearance kept shifting as he moved, with changes of clothing appearing and disappearing before your eyes as if he was having trouble picking an outfit for the day. "That's damn weird. It's probably not anything good, either. I'll go check it out." Before he could get more than two steps away, you quickly reached out to stop him.

"Actually, I'll go. I think you still make him a little nervous. He's been having a hard time settling in." Sadly, Tony didn't argue the fact that he should make Loki nervous, given their history and his lack of desire to mend fences. However, what you didn't realize was that it was you who was causing the change in demeanor. A curt nod was your signal of agreement, but he watched as you moved to the hallway, just in case Loki had any untoward ideas. "Loki? Are you alright?"

"Oh, (Y/N)!" he startled. The veneer of confidence that he had been trying to maintain was all but stripped away at the sight of you, and his hands quickly clasped behind his back to hide the tremor building in them. He was sure that he'd never get used to this feeling, and it would never go away so long as he knew that you were nearby. Loki cleared his throat of the nervous lump blocking his voice, forcing a gentle smile before he tried to form a complete sentence in front of you. "Yes, I'm well, t-thank you. No reason to worry on my behalf."