A/N: The song used is The Passive Aggressive Song by Malene Simonsen. I love the lyrics and thought it'd fit the occasion. Let me know which other MCU characters you'd like to make an appearance, if there are any. Thanks for the follows!

"So, how many times does Kyle have to ask you out until you say yes?" Natasha asked, taking a slurp of her strawberry smoothie. "He's really cute."

"I don't know," Virginia answered, shrugging her shoulders.

They were sitting on the front lawn under a large birch tree, taking their lunch break. Virginia had a bowl mixed with lentils, brown rice, roasted tomatoes and butternut squash with a lemon-tahini dressing; Natasha was eating a chicken wrap.

"I know you had your heart broken, V…" She leaned back against the tree trunk, gazing down the lawn at the other students. "But you need to learn how to trust someone again, eventually."

"It's not that easy, okay?" Virginia insisted, sipping her smoothie through the straw. "And besides… my happiness doesn't depend on someone els—"

"Why's Tony Stark staring at you?"

"What?"

"Tony Stark." Natasha nodded her head in the direction of a group of young man, the person in question holding a girl in his arms. "Why is he staring at you?"

Virginia turned her head. "He's not," she said. Yet he was, kind of. "Well, we had…"

"Oh my God, is that why you don't wanna go out with Kyle?"

"What? No!" She shuddered at the thought. "We had a fight at the club last night and I threw him out. I don't even like Tony Stark. You know that."

Natasha arched an eyebrow at her and Virginia shook her head, slightly annoyed by her friend's behavior. She dug into her bowl as if she had not eaten in days, simply enjoying the explosion of flavor happening inside her mouth. Natasha grinned and took another bite of her food, both of them not saying anything while they ate.

Virginia watched as Tony interacted with his pals, laughing at their jokes—she was sure he laughed most at his own—and sticking his tongue down his girlfriend's throat occasionally. Although in the proper meaning of the word, Tony Stark didn't have girlfriends. He had girls. Boys, too, if she were to believe the rumors, and most rumors she'd heard about him had turned out to be true.

He had dated a very good friend of hers once. They had been together almost a month, which was probably the longest relationship Tony Stark ever had. But once it started to become serious, he dumped her. Well, after he had cheated on her. That's when Virginia really developed a strong aversion to him. Her friends meant everything to her.

"Kyle asked me to go with him to Steve's party next week. I told him I'd think about it," she said, as she grabbed the napkin from her lap. She blotted her lips with it and then wiped her hands on the napkin and stuffed it back in the paper sack. She put the empty bowl away, wadding up the bag, and looked at Natasha, waiting for her response.

Noticing Virginia's raised eyebrow, Natasha chuckled. "What?"

"We are going to that party, right?"

"It depends… Will you throw up on me again?" Natasha quipped.

"Only if it sucks as much as the last one, " she guffawed, loud enough to draw people's attention—his, too. She could see Tony staring at her again with that familiar, stupid smirk on his lips and she quickly turned her face away. He was annoying, even when he didn't say anything. "Kyle's not the only who asked me, by the way, Bruce did, too." She nodded in the boys' direction.

"Bruce Banner asked you out?" Natasha couldn't help but laugh. "I didn't know you're friends with someone from Tony Stark's posse. That's wild!"

"Ugh, we're not friends," Virginia slurped up the last of her smoothie and put it aside. "I've never even talked to him. But he came up to me a few days ago, asking if I wanted to go with him. It took him, like, ten minutes to even form a sentence, because he was so uncomfortable. I think it was just a dare… I don't know. It was super awkward."

She wasn't a guy's magnet, at least not in the Tony Stark kind of way. Her looks and her confidence—if she had to guess her aloofness, too—and the fact that she didn't take shit from anyone, attracted people's attention. She realized that, knew that if she was looking to have some fun, she certainly had options. But there were also those who clearly didn't like her, and if she looked at the people they did like, she understood why.

Strong and independent women with high self-esteem weren't everyone's cup of tea obviously. She was loved; she might even be hated—not that she'd give a damn, though, because she didn't surround herself with negativity. Sometimes she liked the attention, most times she didn't. It distracted her from the one thing that was really important: To focus on her studies and never lose sight of her dream.

And while she couldn't change the fact that she got hit on a lot, nor did she want to, she never really showed any interest. It wasn't because she had had her heart broken and it was closed off for good—it had been almost a year now, so she was finally opening herself up again to let love in. She just didn't think any of those men had real intentions with her. And right now, she had no intention to fuck around, literally.

Kyle seemed like he did. He seemed like he meant all the sweet things he always said to her, and really wanted them to become, like, a serious thing, but Virginia didn't trust him either; at least not enough to let her walls down just yet. She still needed time, used music as a coping mechanism.

She was so popular with her professor because of the affecting way she could put her own emotions into her singing. And the heartache and the bitterness that surrounded Virginia's broken heart had filled her brown leather journal with deep-felt words, lyrics of songs she would probably never sing. There was a wealth of material written in it, about everything she had ever experienced in life, the good and the bad stuff.

Her journal was like a key to her soul. It contained her darkest secrets and her wildest dreams. And that was why she would never allow anyone to read it. She would have to open up some day, she wanted to, but until then, she felt lucky that she could put out her emotions musically. Sometimes, she listened to the very song that put her feelings into words perfectly and instantly felt better. Music was more than a passion or a dream. It helped her heal.

"Well, I dare you to say yes!"

"To going out with Bruce?" The expression on Virginia's face was a mixture of confusion and surprise.

"No, are you crazy?" Natasha laughed. "We don't socialize with Stark's people." She grabbed her friend's iPhone and held it out to her. "I meant with Kyle, dumbo… Text him," Natasha said, smirking. "I dare you to."

"Alright, fine," Virginia gave in, taking the phone into her hands. "But I'm making you responsible for everything bad that happens." She sent a message to Kyle, told him to meet her at the entrance to her dormitory at seven next Friday. A response came right away. "I can't believe I'm letting myself be talked into this," she mumbled.

"Did he send a heart emoji?" Natasha couldn't help but grin stupidly at the redhead.

"Nope. I only got a smile."

"Disappointed?"

"Shut up!" Virginia got up from the lawn, grabbed her things and the trash and looked at her friend.

"Are you mad now?"

"No, I'm not mad," she said with a chuckle. "I'm just annoyed."

"By me?"

"You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, Natasha, you know that? That's one thing you and that guy over there have in common."

"Tony Stark is a real pain in the ass all the time, though." Both women laughed. "He's still looking at you, by the way."

"I don't know what his problem is," she snorted angrily. "Can't he go back to not bothering me? Like, I was fine with him staying out of my life and now he's—"

"Moving."

"What?"

"He's coming over here."

"Oh, we are so going!" Virginia rolled her eyes as she started pulling on Natasha's arm. "Get up and take your stuff. C'mon, quick. We gotta leave."

Natasha laughed at her friend's behavior, although she too wasn't very keen on talking to Tony Stark. She didn't like the look on his face. It was the same smug look he'd had on that pretty mug of his ever since she'd first laid eyes on him. Hurrying, she grabbed her bag and her jacket and followed Virginia to the main building. They heard him call after them—a simple 'hey.'

Natasha peered over her shoulder. "What does he want?" she wondered, shooting a glance at the man in question. He was grinning at her, waving one hand like an idiot.

"I didn't wanna wait to find out. It's bad enough we're on Tony Stark's radar now."

"I think you are on his radar. Tell me, how did that happen again?"

"I don't know?" She uttered a sigh of frustration for she wished she could take back whatever she had done to attract his attention. "I was just cleaning up and singing to myself like I always do."

"And you weren't trying to lure him?" Natasha chuckled, and then went on talking as she noticed the confused look on her friend's face. "Well, you know... Like a siren. Lure him to destruction by the sweetness of your song."

Virginia laughed at the thought. "If only my voice had that much power."

"Your voice can do a lot to people, V... Their emotions... Maybe your little performance last night warmed that guy's cold heart."

"Tony Stark doesn't have a heart, Nat," she callously joked.

Practice rooms lined the music building's two upper floors. But the rooms on the second floor facing the dorms were the best, with picture windows and enough space for a grand piano. It was rare to find one empty. The rooms Virginia usually had to settle for were the closet-size cubicles on the third floor, which had only space for an upright piano and a few chairs or a small couch. There was no window except on the door and the smell was most offensive. While she was proud to have worked her way into these rooms, she hoped that her talent was enough to get her out again, and carry her beyond the practice room and onto the stage.

An acoustic guitar strapped upside down against her back, she hurried down the hall and peered through one of the windows into a room. It appeared to be unoccupied and that almost made her raise her hands up in the air and cheer, because she had been searching for an empty practice room for what felt like hours. It was essential that she spend every minute working on her vocal performance. She needed the credit points and couldn't afford to suck at this assignment. Twelve percent wasn't enough. She had to give it her all. Failure wasn't an option. It never was.

Virginia shut the door and closed the venetian blinds, blocking out the outside world. Switching the lights on, she lowered her oversized tote bag to the floor and reached toward the guitar case on her back. As she dropped it on the couch to her left, she nearly jumped at the sound of a loud groan and froze for a second. She turned to the side, and when she spotted him, lying there with his arms and legs stretched out on the couch, she had to fight the urge to grab the tote sack and throw that at him, too.

She rolled her eyes back in her head, then with a sigh of exasperation, irritation, and downright annoyance, she ducked down and rummaged through her bag.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked, sitting up.

"I'm looking for a spark of decency to give you... seeing that you don't have any." He laughed out loud, gaily. He probably thought this was funny. "What do you want from me?" she asked as she pulled out her spiral-bound notepad that contained the chords and lyrics of the song she was working on. She dropped it on the table and looked at him.

"Nothing," he said with a chuckle.

"Then go! I need to practice. And, apparently, you just need to—"

"What was that earlier, hm? Why'd you run away from me?"

"I didn't. I was late for class."

"Yeah, right..." Tony smirked. "You know what? This place is way too comfortable right now and I don't have any more classes to attend, so I think I'll just stay here until I hear you sing."

"I'm not gonna sing for you," she retorted sharply.

"Then I'm... not going." He lay back down on the couch, one arm hanging loose and relaxed over his torso, the other flung lazily behind his head. His hair fell gently across his face and that smirk on his lips slowly grew into a grin, as he added, "Your call, honey."

"Did you just...?" She tried to ignore the word of endearment he'd used to address her—no, provoke her—and grabbed the case to pull her guitar out. She couldn't bear to look at his smug, demanding, overprivileged face. "Fine," she scoffed, pulling the strap over her head. "You want me to sing? Well, I know just the right song for you." Virginia positioned herself in front of him and started strumming the first chords of a song she had written at the age of fourteen. She hummed, and then soon she sang, casting him a defiant glare.

Tony watched her as she was playing, his eyes sweeping over her features, taking it all in. Every time she opened her mouth to sing another verse, her voice came out perfectly. And that passive aggressive song she was performing—he assumed it was an original—made him grin even more. He had a feeling she hated that he was enjoying this. She was staring very hard at him, not blinking, with eyes that were narrowed to a slight slit. Look around. There's more people in the room, but of course it all revolves around you. Quit being such a dick, she finished, and he dissolved into giggles, which only ended when she shot him another glare.

"Wow, high school was really fun, huh?" he noted, stretching his arms and feet.

"Believe me, this right here—," she gestured between the two of them, "—is almost as bad as high school." Letting the guitar strap catch the weight of her Seagull, Virginia crossed her arms over her shirt, which pushed her breasts up against the fabric. She noticed Tony's eyes darting to her chest almost immediately. "Can you be serious for, like, one moment?"

"I can try," he quipped, smirking, as he got up from the couch.

"You and I, we never..." She watched him as he took a few steps towards her, his hips swaying with every slow, measured step. "We never had anything to do with each other and I liked it that way…" She slowly stepped back. "Why are you suddenly so obsessed with me?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," he said, grinning. "I'm not obsessed. You have a great voice and I just like to hear you sing." A chuckle escaped Tony's throat, as she gave him a disdainful eye roll, which he had come to label as her signature move. "More than I like to hear you talk, actually," he added amused.

She took a deep breath, then blew out through her nose like an angry bull. Relax, she told herself, as she looked at him. She knew he would love to see her lose it. "You know, you could just leave me alone," she mumbled, "Do us both a favor." She turned her back to him and flipped through the pages of her notepad until she found the right page, then cradled her guitar in her arms and began plucking at it idly.

"You really do need to work on your attitude," Tony sneered in reply, thinking of last night. She was so fickle. "I was just making you a compliment."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tony. I couldn't have possibly hurt your feelings." Her tone wasn't polite. No, she was breathing fire at him, white teeth bared in a malicious grin when she faced him and an even more malicious glint in her eyes. "I mean, that'd require you to have any, right?"

"Ouch," he let out, laughing off her mean accusation.

It did bother him, though—the way she just assumed that he didn't feel anything; that he was cold-hearted and lacked any real emotion. His own fault. He wanted people to think that about him. But, of course, she was wrong. Just like everyone else. He knew how it felt to be hurt. He only had to think of his father and the deep resentment Howard harbored toward him and that painful feeling of rejection crushed him like a building collapsing.

The man everyone believed to know was nothing like the person he really was. There was barely anything real about the persona he used. And sometimes Tony wished that someone would actually care enough about him to see beyond his sad exterior into his heart and soul; that he would find someone that he could trust completely so he could finally show himself to them. That kind of deep intimacy was the thing he desired most in the world, and the thing he was most afraid of.

Watching his face, Virginia saw the fractional changes of Tony's expression when that laugh had subsided, like he was thinking of something that made him feel uneasy. She had a talent for picking up on these things. Reading people usually wasn't hard for her. Reading Tony Stark, however, was a challenge. She had a feeling there was more to him than he let on, but the way he acted towards her was so irritating that she didn't care to learn the truth about him. If he wanted to be an ass, she wouldn't stop him. But she would stay as far away from him as possible. She didn't have time for whatever stupid game he was playing with her.

"Tony," she breathed his name on a sigh. "I really need to work on this song." She tried to be civil, to not sound as harsh as she had before. "Can you please go?"

"I got better things to do anyway," he said, a grin plastered across his face.

"You do now? Great!" she called out as if he had answered her prayers. "Bye!"

Tony shook his head at her brazen mannerisms and started walking. He was almost out the door when he turned back around. "That song you were playing before... Have you written anything else?"

"No," she lied.

He eyed her suspiciously. Her look was stern, her lips pressed tightly together. She seemed sincere, but he wasn't sure that was really the case. Maybe she was just a pretty good liar. "That's a shame, because you might really have it in you." He paused. "You know, to take all that anger and frustration, and all the shit that's going on in your life and turn it into a great song."

She forced away the unreasonably bitchy attitude that flared up at his comment. "My life's a) none of your business and b) perfect as it is... without you in it."

"I highly doubt that," he said, chuckling, as he closed the door.

Virginia couldn't help but grin wryly at this stupid boy, who was the epitome of the annoying, self-righteous smug type. It was the type of men she knew she should avoid. But there was something about him that whispered 'rebel' and 'independent,' and 'audacious'—qualities in a man that attracted her. Something that just lit up the sexual fire in her heart to be naughty. Oh God, what was she thinking?