This is dedicated to Tia, who convinced me to join Tumblr and make an account. Also, she introduced me to the Marvel movies. It will also be posted there. I'm onyx-ink
REASONS WHY STARK HAPPENS TO LIKE SAM CARTER
Appearance.
Tony Stark had always appreciated beauty in his women – and women in general. Her long legs were the first he saw, going on seemingly forever with their well-muscled calves and strong thighs which he, in hindsight, realized really shouldn't have imagined straddling him, her body definitely kept in shape by regular exercise, her short blonde hair stopping just above the shoulder-blades visible in her semi-backless dress. But what really did it for him and left him speechless was the smirk on her gorgeous face along with her mischievously sparkling blue eyes when she realized that she was right, and he, Tony Stark, had severely underestimated her.
IQ
Tony had known when he had first read her resume that it would take more than just the standard showoff to impress her. But boy had he been wrong to think that posting his IQ on the memo board had been smart.
Sex.
They weren't having any of it. And although the idea itself seemed preposterous, because he was Tony Stark, playboy billionaire, notoriously known for taking a different woman to bed each night, for some reason, he was okay with that.
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried.
The engineering.
While Pepper had to remind him of things as usual for everybody else such as ingesting food and sleeping on a regular basis, Carter was just as bad as him when it came to engineering gadgets in the workshop hours into the night and into the next day. No, in fact, she was damn straight brilliant at it. It took them scarcely thirteen hours before they started finishing each other's sentences, despite their heated debates about circuits and physics.
Suits.
Because when he took women home and showed them the Iron Man suit, most women were impressed and a night filled of passion lovemaking followed. When Sam Carter glanced at it, she memorized each detail with a blank face and sat down with a list of suggestions with improvements.
Music.
It was actually impressive. While even the more resilient of Stark's playmates had given up and abandoned ship with sore if not hurt eardrums, headaches, and possible hearing loss, Sam Carter kept working even as the horrendous and alarming volume of Black Sabbath blasted throughout the workshop, too deeply buried in the excitement and frustration of their latest project.
The Military.
Sooner or later it was bound to happen – even he had known that somewhere deep inside him when he skimmed her list of accomplishments on the vague record with red tape all over it (and the challenge of hacking through the red tape had tempted him, but he had found the challenge of unpeeling the layers through company more irrefutable), but he had enjoyed his playmate too much and forgotten in the midst of her fellow genius that she was military. He grimaced at the word, snorted in the face of it. Nobody ever told Tony Stark to do anything. Once in every while, Pepper could make him do something for the sake of Stark Industries or public image or whatever, but no-one ordered or bossed the playboy billionaire around.
One day he accidentally – or maybe it was his wisecracking wit that hadn't been able to resist the temptation of confrontation (he meant, as composed as she appeared, something had to lurk under that feistiness, right?). He had been right.
She had defended the military passionately, especially the Air Force. She had gone from being a human being so similar to himself that it frankly scared him to being a stoic officer willing to say aye, sir, how high? if someone with a high rank enough told her so.
He admitted later that the things he had said had been vice with a bitter and cruel tongue. She had backlashed with an equal fire, and Pepper had even stormed down to see what the fuss was about, normally worried when the workshop became too quiet with the two. She'd had to duck and dodge the debris of the items that they had thrown at each other.
"Then go to Rhodey and stick your holy Air Force that far up your ass! Get out of here, Major!"
His voice had carried a strain of actual emotion, and Pepper had looked shocked when the major left, her glare throwing darts. After that he had pretty much been sure that he had chased off the only woman he would consider a friend and fellow genius. They had a fellow understanding, a fellow loyalty to the art of ingenuity.
The same sense of loyalty made him tug the corners of his mouth into a smile as he came the next day, jingling a cup of steaming coffee as he took in the peaceful image of a hunched Carter doing calculations, her eyes lost on the overwritten page of notes, her legs curled up under her on the barstool that had been dragged from the pile of debris. Truce, he supposed and sat down next to her.
Fights.
Tony Stark's eyes had flashed with excitement and that daredevilry he was known for – hell, didn't he hold patent on that by now? – when Sam Carter had agreed to fight. It wasn't as if they didn't bicker and banter down in their workshop – she practically lived there, and he rarely left what Pepper amused had dubbed 'the Batcave' to the direct offense of the two geniuses – but he liked approaching danger with a cocksureness. At first he had given her the advantage of fighting him without the suit; she was smaller than him and he worked out regularly, yet he had quickly gotten the hang of how little he should hold back when she had had him on the floor in less than two minutes, her military training and strategic skills almost outshining her brilliance. He had sourly gotten up and used all force, which ended in a tie (Pepper declared it, hysteric about the state of the workout space). Carter had shrugged but the spark of the promise of a rematch had fueled her blue eyes.
Stark suited up and was amazed by her agility. Even though her unprotected body had no chance against the suit's advanced systems, she was making him doubt who was the hunter and who was the hunted. She snuck through the roof and hid behind masses of convenience. And a whistle had been enough to catch his attention; enough for her to aim her weapon at him, adorning the Iron Man suit with splatter of paint from the paint ball gun. Her laughter had been worth it, though, even if her features darkened as she was asked how she did it. She said that she had done it before. He shuddered at the thought.
Scars.
The first week nobody asked. However, Stark was not the careful or hesitant type. He said whatever he pleased, not really giving it a second thought as to what the consequences would be. Of course, whenever he tried to be that self, Carter gave him tongue about it. He was surprised when she was truthfully vulnerable as she answered his question about the scars he had seen in beneath the sheer cover of sweat as she had worked under the halogen lamps in the workshop. He hadn't been particularly fond of answering any questions of his own, but had been surprised when words flew from his lips as he told her about the hardest physical parts of Afghanistan.
And he didn't know if he was saddened, burdened or relieved to find understanding on the blonde woman's face. It was tragic either way.
Afterglow.
The look on her face was pride, brilliance, confidence and scientific arrogance. She looked horrible, no doubt, and he could tell by his own exhaustion that she was exhausted and drained of all energy as well, but when she beamed at him, going over the successful result of a 72 hour workshop marathon without sleep, caffeine in all forms long since having replaced whatever blood was left in their system, he wondered if every genius was that beautiful once they had reached and accomplished their latest achievement without insanity, or if it was merely another bright idea that made her smirk confidently. Greasy oil had stuck in her hair, a graze from a second-degree burn (a side-effect of a heated argument they'd had about fuel, which had lead to her swinging her arm recklessly, frustratedly, at a welding tool still hot to the touch, which had scorched some of her skin, but she had cursed loudly and immediately forgotten the pain once a solution assembled in her mind).
They might not agree with each other, but they were definitely compatible.
And, Pepper was at least getting some sleep knowing that when Carter would inevitably getting sleepy, Tony might realize that he would need some, too. Or maybe the other way around. Until then, though, she just felt horribly dumb checking in on her geniuses every few hours.