A/n: The reason this has been so fucking slow is because I have no excuse. That's my excuse. Because.

Chapter 4

I stared at the empty cell in the belly of the behemoth helicarrier, tears welled up in my eyes. Everything seemed so unfamiliar, like I was an alien in my planet. The picture of her on the altitude gauge as I took the plane down, asking her for a rain-check on that dance.

Peggy...
She's out of my life now, probably married someone after I took a nose dive. Tears dripped from my chin and to the floor. I sniffled and wiped them from my eyes, suddenly aware of an...irritating presence behind me.
"Didn't know prisons made you so sad, Spangles," Tony snarled from behind me. I hate him, I've hated him since I met him, big man in a suit of armor. No skill, even less tact, just some rich boy in a toy he built. I try to ignore his comment and push past him, he blocks my path and looks at me. Something's strange about his expression, almost like he's trying to be sympathetic.

"What?" I ask, looking down at him.

"Look," He glances around suspiciously, "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here,"

"Stark, I'm not up for your jokes," I try to push past him again, for a smaller man, he's strong.

"I'm serious," His voice is low and gravely before he lets me leave. What the hell does he mean that he's serious? Has he shoved his ego aside and decided to care for another human being other than himself? Not likely.

I retreat to my room for the night, staring at the ceiling. The dull hum of the engine reaching my ears through the many levels of the ship. Damn super hearing, it's been more of a hindrance than a help. Memories float through my head about my brief time as a super soldier in the second world war, everything and everyone that I've lost.

"God dammit!" I yell aloud, slugging the wall. My hand sears in pain, small dents in the metal from my knuckles. I've lost my cool, but everything is just too damn strange, I've never felt more alone than I do now. Even with Tony constantly bugging me, Tony, billionaire jackass.

Tony is a completely different matter, offering me a shoulder to cry on. He must have a huge pair or be incredibly stupid to mock another man like that. No way in hell he's actually serious about helping me...

The door to my room slides open, I hold still and hear slow footsteps behind me. Must have lost track of time stewing in my own thoughts. The scent of cologne hits my nose and I breathe deeply.

Tony.

"Can I help you?" I ask quietly, he doesn't answer me. This is ridiculous, what the hell does he want? Instead of trying to start confrontation, I turn over and sit up.

He stands over me, shirtless, the glow of his arc reactor accentuates every cut muscle. The blue light barely reaches his face, but I can tell that something is bothering him. He stares down into my eyes, inhaling slowly before finally speaking.

"Spangles, I..." His voice cracks and he blinks several times, as if to gather his thoughts. The worry is clear in his voice. He swallows and runs his hands through his hair, his heart is racing, almost thudding like a war drum.

"What is it?" I keep my voice down.

Tony looks around and then bends down. Everything seems to move in slow motion, but I can't find it in me to react. His lips press firmly against mine and I freeze. This is wrong, this is disgusting . and wrong, but I can't pull away. He takes a step back and looks down at me.

"That," He breathes. I'm still sitting on my bed in shock, trying to process what just happened. I shake my head and finally gain my wits.
"I...I need some time to think," I stammer, still unsure of what just happened. He has to be drunk, but why can't I smell booze on him. This isn't right, I'm dreaming, I must be. Tony leaves the room and I'm alone again, with my thoughts.

An hour passes and I decide to try to see if there is something to what happened. I walked down to Tony's room, slipping through the door. He sits at the edge of his mattress with his head in his hands. My throat is like sandpaper, and I swallow as I kneel in front of him. Tony gasps when I grab him by his chin and kiss him gently. Quiet, small whimpers escape him, he must have expected something completely different.

His hands travel down my chest and he breaks the kiss. There are no protests from either end, instead there are sounds of rapid, desperate breathing. Clothes land on the floor and we're both nude, illuminated by the glow of his arc reactor. Tony's fingers brush my thigh and I gasp, he's taking charge in this and I feel powerless, no, I am powerless, to stop him.

The feeling of his hand moving gently, back and forth. I tilt my head back and lean against the cold wall. Nothing has felt this good, not even my hand. This is something that should be wrong, that should feel wrong, but it doesn't. Instead it feels amazing, the feeling of Tony's hand on me, his lips on my throat, his, another man, amazing. The building pressure eventually tips me over the edge and I explode over his hand and forearm. My face burns red and he chuckles softly before kissing me.

"Christ, that was..." I breathe, but he presses a finger of his clean hand over my lips.

"Ssh, it's not over, Spangles," He whispers, guiding me to my knees. I take him into my mouth and he groans before grabbing my hair. Tony guides me along, quietly mumbling what to do, how to do it, how it feels. The moment he comes, I jerk back, not expecting it. Instead of landing in my mouth, it covers my neck and chest like a hot, sticky necklace.

He smiles in bliss down at me, muttering softly, "You didn't do so bad for your first time."

His statement only makes me blush more. He chuckles at my embarrassment, grabbing a towel and handing it to me.

"Thanks" I say while I wipe off my face, neck and chest. He nods in acknowledgment, beginning to clean up and dress himself. There is nothing else to say, maybe this is a one time thing, maybe it's more than once. There's no way to know, instead I get dressed and retreat to my bedroom for the night, not knowing what to expect to come from this.