After Rhodey left, Tony dedicated a few hours to his work. Bruce had other projects to hold his attention, but solving the Ultron riddle was at the forefront of Tony's mind. However, when it became clear that he wasn't going to make the progress he was after, he called it quits, took a shower and headed to Martha's place. Making a quick detour to get some strawberries, he arrived at Martha's apartment in record time.
When Martha opened the door, Tony offered up the strawberries and smile. "Delivery for Martha Jones."
Martha bit back a smile of her own. "You're not my usual delivery boy." She took the strawberries then stared at him expectantly. "Are you waiting for a tip?"
"Certain films would suggest that this exchange ends with you inviting me in and taking me to bed," Tony quipped.
Martha huffed softly. "If that's what you're after, then you should have brought me a pizza as well," she insisted as she let him into her apartment.
Tony stepped inside with an amused smirk. "Are you telling me that would have actually worked?"
"That I'd trade sex for pizza?" She scoffed as she closed the door. "Not on your life, but at least I'd have some pizza."
"Are you hungry? Did you eat?"
Martha nodded and moved over to the sink to fill her electric kettle. "I grabbed a bite on the way in, but I could always make room for some pizza."
Tony was in the process of shrugging his coat off, but he halted his movement. "Do you want me to order you a pizza?"
Martha paused to think. "Mmm…better not. I'm thinking about pizza right now, but I've also been craving dumplings. And then there's the food truck that's currently parked a couple of blocks down from my building that supposedly has the best barbacoa tacos you've ever tasted. I'm not sure I'd be able to make up my mind."
"You can have all three," Tony suggested as he proceeded to remove his coat and hang it up near the door.
"Don't tempt me!" Martha retorted with a quiet laugh.
Tony headed over to her sofa and took a seat. "Have I ever told you that your food obsession is actually pretty adorable?"
"No, but you could always buy me a mug that says it," Martha quipped. She dropped two tea bags into mugs then turned to face him. "I suppose I do sound a bit of a hobbit though, don't I?"
"Why? Because you're tiny, perpetually hungry and you have hairy feet?" Tony teased.
Martha gasped. "I do not have hair on my feet!"
"You're a mammal," he countered. "You have hair everywhere."
She shook her head and returned her attention to fixing their tea. "So does that mean you're not one of those blokes that like their women to be dolphin smooth?"
"Nothing wrong with a little hair," Tony replied. He slipped his shoes off and propped his feet up on the sofa. "For example, I'm imagining my beard on you right now."
Martha picked up both cups and carried them over to the couch. "I don't know if you were being cheeky on purpose just then or if that was purely accidental."
"Happy accident, but it lets me know where your mind is, perv," he answered as he took the mug she offered him. It was white with a grey wolf on the side and the words 'winter is coming' and the name 'Stark' printed in grey as well. "Am I supposed to know what this means?"
"You know nothing, Jon Snow," Martha replied with a chuckle into her tea.
"Are you calling me a bastard?" Tony questioned, feigning offense. "I don't even have to watch the show to know that Jon Snow is Ned Stark's bastard."
"Are you a bastard?" she challenged, making herself comfortable at the opposite end of her couch and propping her legs up so that they lay across the top of his legs.
"Only in personality," Tony shot back playfully.
Martha took another sip of tea. "You're not so bad."
Tony shrugged. "I'm not so good either."
Martha dropped her mug slowly and rested it on her thigh. "You seriously believe that, don't you?"
At that point, Tony's cup suddenly seemed a lot more interesting. "Is this a gift or a loan?"
"It's a gift and don't change the bloody subject," Martha snapped.
Tony met her eyes. Everything about her expression said that she wasn't going to let this go easily. "You're not my therapist."
"You're right. I'm not your therapist. I'm just someone that's trying to be your friend."
Tony's earlier conversation with Rhodey played in his head. 'You're not alone. You don't have to suffer in silence.' He lowered his own cup. "You are my friend."
"Good." Martha placed a hand on his ankle and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Now that we've got that established…you know you can tell me anything, yea?"
"Anything?" Tony challenged.
Martha picked her cup up with both hands and brought it to her lips. "Anything," she confirmed with a nod. "Just bear in mind that you're without your armor and I'm within striking distance," she pointed out while lifting her foot to toe his belt buckle.
Tony glanced downwards at her foot. "Should I have worn a cup?"
"Only you can answer that."
Tony shifted his mug to cover his lap. "I should have worn a cup."
Martha laughed into her tea. "If you do, give me a warning so I won't be wondering whether it's just the cup or if you were happy to see me."
Tony met her gaze once more. "I'm always happy to see you, Doc." He used his free hand to stroke her bare foot. "And your hairy feet too."
"Arsehole!" Martha retorted with a laugh, using her foot to give him a quick jab in stomach.
"You know what I was just thinking?" Tony continued. "Since this is a sleepover, shouldn't we braid each other's hair? How about I start with your toes?"
"You really are a bastard," she accused. She kicked him once more before pulling her foot back and crawling off the couch.
"Where are you going?" Tony asked, watching her walk away.
"To bed," she answered petulantly. "Alone."
Tony sat up straight. "All this over your hairy feet?"
"Call my feet hairy one more time," Martha retorted crossly. "I dare you!"
"Seems like an extreme reaction to have over some feet. I mean—" His words were suddenly cut off by the pillow she flung at his face. "Was that really—" Once again he was cut off. This time by a blanket. Tony set his mug aside for fear of further retribution. "What's next the mattress?"
"You're sleeping on the couch," she announced unceremoniously as she flicked the lights off one by one.
He followed her movements with his eyes. "You're not kicking me out?"
Martha slipped into bed and rearranged the remaining pillows. "Not before I get my breakfast in the morning," she said simply just before switching the lamp next to her bed off.
Tony sat stunned on the couch, surrounded by silence and darkness, wondering if he had accidentally tapped into some untold trauma about hairy feet. Abandoning his tea, he stretched out on the couch with the pillow and blanket and closed his eyes.
It wasn't terribly uncomfortable, but Tony still couldn't relax. Not while Martha was angry at him. He tossed and turned for a few minutes before he finally opened his eyes and sat up. "I'm sorry," he told her through the darkness. "Please don't be mad."
The lamp suddenly flicked on and Martha was sitting up in bed with a rueful smile. "Yea, it's not fun when your mates make you think they're angry when they're really not, is it?" she asked pointedly.
Tony stared at her in confusion. "What?"
"Last night. Green eyed monster. Conciliatory cuddling," she reminded him with one arm crossed over the other.
Realization washed over Tony. This was payback for the cold shoulder he gave her after she teased him for being jealous. "You knew I was joking."
"Not at first, but I figured it out."
Tony nodded slowly then paused as he zeroed in on one detail in particular. "So you knew I was faking and you spooned me anyway?" he questioned with the beginnings of a grin.
"Maybe I was cold," Martha shot back, collapsing against the mattress at the implied accusation.
"Are you cold now?" Tony asked. "I mean I'm not a meteorologist, but I do have a mug that says 'winter is coming.'"
Martha huffed. "It's bloody April!"
"Okay so it's not coming for another nine months, but it is still coming," Tony insisted, rising from the couch. "Sooner than that, if you live below the equator." He moved over to the empty side of the bed with his pillow and blanket in tow. "So can I come to bed or do I need to go get that pizza first?"
Martha pursed her lips for a moment while she considered, then flung the covers back for him to climb in. Tony didn't waste any time curling up next to her. Her expression relaxed into something more pensive as they settled into a comfortable position. "My feet might have a teeny tiny bit of very fine, nearly invisible hair," she conceded.
"And my eyes might get a little green where you're concerned," Tony confessed.
"So I take it this is a bad time to mention that Rhodey looks attractive in his uniform?" Martha asked.
"And I'm the bastard?" Tony scoffed as he rolled away. "I'm sleeping on the sofa," he threatened playfully.
"Don't!" Martha begged with a laugh as she tugged him back by the shirt. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
Tony rolled onto his back. "I forgive you," he answered. "You forgive me?"
Martha tucked herself into his side and laid her head against his shoulder. "I forgive you."
Tony threw an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. "Do you think I'm a good man?" he asked after a long silence.
"I think you want to be." Martha lifted her head slightly. "And you try to be." She shrugged. "It's not easy being a hero. Sometimes…no matter how hard you fight…you still lose," she reasoned. "And I think you're the type of man that could win ninety-nine times but it's the one loss you're afraid of being remembered for."
Tony suddenly felt vulnerable, but he forced himself to meet her eyes in spite of that feeling. "I'm afraid of a lot of things," he confessed.
Martha rolled over her stomach and leaned her chin against his chest so that they were eye to eye. "Tell me."
"You want to know what I'm afraid of?"
"I want to know it all," she clarified. "Tell me about the real Tony Stark."
"The real Tony Stark," he repeated. "You sure you ready for that?"
Martha smiled warmly. "How about you show me yours and I'll show you mine," she suggested.
Tony nodded. "Alright." He took a deep breath and let it out in a quick burst. "Might as well start at the beginning."
