I do not own Iron Man…
Chance Meeting
The melancholy song drew Chance Thompson to look over to the piano. Then it was the cigarette smoke that swathed the figure in an air of mystery and tragedy. It had been a long day for her, a futile day spent trying to get the attention of her boss with her projects, only to find him here, pouring out his heart to an old slightly out of tune piano. The bar was a place where she thought he would never dare step his royal shoes into, ever. A sad blend of burgundy, gold and evergreen was the theme, tarnished treasures hung and sat limply, trying to escape the attention of the patrons in shame of their current state of dress. The strong odour of stale tobacco and beer wafted off the surfaces, wrinkling Chance's nose. The bartender noticed her study of the man and leaned over to murmur in her ear.
"He comes every now and then, orders several whiskeys and plays that old thing for hours. No one has ever had the nerve to go up to the Great Tony Stark." Chance turned her glacier blue eyes back to him, steel resolve glinting fiercely.
"Then I guess I had better order two whiskeys then?" she turned her attention back to the man on the raised floor, the music softly soothing her frayed nerves. He smirked before pouring the drinks. Paying for them, rather than putting it on her tab, Chance turned and walked over to the piano, her hips lightly swaying.
Tony Stark had been watching the auburn-haired beauty since she walked into the bar. A beaten up leather biker jacket covered a nicely cut blue pant suit and her hair was tied into a sharp braid. He watched as she spoke with the barman, his fingers dancing across the keys. The music gave him a respite from the chaotic stream of booze and women that cut into his life like a steam train. Although he loved the attention, he hated how empty he felt afterwards with a pounding headache, dry mouth and an unknown woman who somehow looked so much better the night before. He was proud of himself tonight; however, he only had one drink and was slowly contemplating one more before retiring for the night.
Tony looked back over to the woman, catching her exquisite eyes. Yeah, it was definitely those eyes that caught his attention. So blue that you could feel the warm chill when she turned them on to you. Changing the song, he continued to watch as she received to drinks and began wandering over towards him.
Chance hid her shaking legs well. Holding up her offering, she waited until he nodded before sitting down next to him on the piano stool and placing the two drinks on the piano's smooth surface. She opened her mouth to speak.
"I'm not interested in sleeping around tonight, so if that's your intention, please leave," his deep voice throbbed through her. She shook her head with a slight smile.
"Actually, Mr Stark, I'd like to ask you a question." He gave her a mildly surprised glance.
"You're not a reporter are you?"
She laughed. "How many reporters do you know that wear a motorcycle jacket and frequent this bar?" Chance watched as he gave her his patented slow grin.
"Ok, so not a reporter, what are you?"
"A woman as far as I can tell," she sassed back.
He shook his head in amusement. "Alright, you have me at a disadvantage. Who are you?"
"Chance Thompson, a scientist at Stark Industries." He was most stunned at her answer.
"Alright, Miss Thompson, what is your question?" His long fingers danced over the piano keys, the song matching the tempo of their banter.
"Do you always brush off appointments in favour of frequenting a bar? I believe I waited for you since lunch in your office. Your assistant seemed most apologetic." She stood up then, giving him a tight smile before leaving the bar. He watched her go, bemusement shadowing his eyes.
"Chance Thompson, hmm," he turned his attention back to the piano, shaking his head lightly.
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