Taste of Apples

Summary:

My name is Lexi Roux. I am twenty-years-old and because I am just that awesome, I just recently graduated from Universite Paris Sorbonne, in Paris, France. I never expected my life to change so drastically after the death of my parents. I never really expected to have to put my life on hold, my Tante Maria telling me that my parents had been agents for some S.H.I.E.L.D. agency.

I guess Tante Maria never explained to these...Avengers, that I have what people call Synethesia. Every voice carries a taste. Every touch carries a sound.

Now, if I could just get the taste of apples out of my mouth and ignore the soft whispers against my skin.

Author's Note:

Lexi Roux is of my own creation. She is twenty years old and incredibly talented in Fine Arts. She also suffers from what is called Synethesia, which is where the brain confuses some of the sensory triggers. Voices cause her to taste flavors, music causes her to see metallic-shaded colors (compare it to the visualizers for ITunes or Media Players) and anything she touches she hears sounds. This doesn't effect her normal senses; sight, hearing or smell, it might sound confusing, but it won't seem so odd when you read on. She has been living in France for many years, so she uses some French terms, but did grow up in America so her first language is English.

Because I absolutely adore Tony Stark (there are so many different sides to Tony that makes him so...delicious), this will be a Tony/OC story.

Disclaimer:

I do not own the Avengers, or anything in relation to Marvel. The plot and Lexi are completely my own.

Enjoy!

Chapter Six
Champagne Hums

Staring at my reflection, I feel only slightly out of place. I can't quite put my finger on why. My hair, free from its looped braids and thin ponytails, flows delicately to brush over my shoulders. I had decided to take my green streaks in my hair and curled them into tightly coiled curls, allowing them to rest on top of the rest of my straight hair. I outlined my hazel-flecked green eyes with my usual black eyeliner, but applied it lighter than usual. I couldn't help but use the dark green-grey eye shadow smudged softly along my eyelids. A simple coat of clear lip gloss completes my, otherwise, lighter than usual make-up.

The knee-length deep emerald, halter-styled dress hugs my slim curves, and I shift, watching the flared skirt twirl easily with the movement. The deep grey, four-inch thick ribbon wrapped beneath the bust of the dress ties delicately against the middle of my back and matches the strapped heels, a single thick strap wrapped just above my ankles. It is a relatively simplistic dress, and very different from my usual attire, but not uncomfortable.

So, why do I feel out of place?

Catching sight of the time, I grab the dark grey clutch and make my way out of my room. Appearing in the living room, a hot blush spreads across my face instantly at the sight of everyone glancing over. Seeing various eyes widen and I have a feeling Clint's jaw just ticked stubbornly.

"No way are you going to some gala dressed like that, with Stark," Clint belts out.

Confused, I glance down, wondering what's wrong with how I'm dressed, "Why? Does it look bad?"

Clint's eyes widen slightly, "What? No. You look fine."

"Then what's wrong with my dress?" I ask.

Natasha nudges Clint, giving him some kind of pointed look, causing whatever Clint had been ready to say to catch in his throat, before she turns back to me, "Nothing is wrong with you or the dress. You look beautiful."

Despite the monotony of her tone, I smile at her praise, "Thank you, Natasha."

"Aye. Your beauty is breath-taking, Lady Lexi," Thor states, his features bright as usual.

I giggle, still amazed by the beauty of his speech, "Thank you. Where's Tony? We're going to be late if we don't leave soon."

"He'll probably be out here in a moment. He had a call from Pepper," Steve comments, giving me a small, soft smile, though his eyes gleam with worry.

I nod, feeling my nerves grow strained once more. I hate waiting. Glancing over at Bruce, I give him a small smile of my own, as Natasha and Clint talk in extremely hushed voices.

"Bruce," I greet, standing next to him.

"You do look beautiful, Lexi. Are you sure you are going to be alright?" Cocking an eyebrow at his question, he glances around before continuing, "With your...senses, do you think you will not become overwhelmed by everyone there?"

The confusion on my face melts into understanding as I realize he is concerned, "I will be fine, Bruce. Jacquot would not have invited me if he believed I couldn't handle it. Any idea what has Clint so...aggressive?"

"Tony Stark is known for his...uh...playboy ways. I believe Clint views you as a surrogate sister and does not want you alone with Tony in such an intimate setting," Bruce responds intellectual as always.

A great sense of understand dawns on me and my heart flutters at the idea of Clint being so worried. I may have lived a life of relative peace until recently, but I haven't been on the receiving end of many people's devotion.

"I've been around Tony alone several times, and he has been nothing but respectful to be honest. Maybe a bit teasing and sometimes patronizing, but nothing more," I state, watching as Clint heaves a sigh at whatever Natasha just said to him.

"To be honest, none of us have ever seen you dressed so...formal. I know I was slightly caught of guard by the change you made," Bruce quips.

Is it bad that I am absolutely comfortable around this man? I've heard stories of the 'Other Guy', but for some reason, I can't find it in me to fear this brilliant man. He carries no biased opinion. Everything is always based on fact, much like Natasha. He carries a heavy sense of inner peace that I am surprised a man like him can lose control with such ease.

"Alright, I have arrived. Everyone c-"

The sudden disappearance of the apple flavor on my tongue causes me to look away from Bruce and I blush at the surprise coating Tony's light-brown eyes. He really is a handsome man. His black-and-white suit looks as though it had just been created for him, fitting his figure perfectly while giving him a classic, aristocratic appearance. He seems to snap out of his silence and a warm smile pulls at his lips before he walks closer.

"You, my dearest Lexi, look exquisite," his apple-flavored voice coated with honesty, before he extends his hand, a single, deep burgundy rose clasped gently in his hand, "For you."

I glance down, nervous, as I suddenly realize why I feel so out of place. Galas I have done before. Having any kind of romantic date, even as a guise for a bodyguard, is not something I've done before. Before I can take the rose from his hand, I tense immediately as masculine cologne and aftershave invades the surrounding air as he steps into my personal space. Every instinct within me kicks and screams for me to move as I watch the rose lift to my line of sight before disappearing.

"I made sure the thorns were removed."

My eyes flutter shut as apples mixes with his scent and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I feel the smooth stem slide along the back of my ear. Realizing he had somehow managed to get the rose to stay pinned against the side of my head, most likely contrasting against my entire outfit, my eyes open as I feel him step away.

"Well, what do you guys think?" Tony asks, as I look around.

Clint's mouth opens before I catch sight of Natasha's foot stepping carefully on Clint's, before the red-head allows a small smile to form on her lips, "I believe in an artistic way, it seems to...compliment the dress very well. You two better get going before you are late."

Nodding stiffly, I follow Tony to the elevator. As the doors slide shut, I glance at the man next to me. Everything about him seemed to live and breathe a love for life, and to be honest, it was a bit intimidating.

"You seem tense. I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

Swallowing the flavor of apple, I smile softly, "I'll admit I'm a bit nervous."

I watch as understanding flickers in his gaze, before he nudges me gently with his elbow, "Hey. Relax. This is me, here. You haven't really had a chance to get out of the Tower for a while, so just think of this as our visit to the museum a few weeks ago."

Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, and oddly, the scent wafting around him and his flavor causes my shoulder to sink as the tension fades. Hearing the 'ding' as we arrive to the ground level, my eyes open and I offer him a grin.

"Alright, Tony. Let's go."

The responding grin I receive puts me at even more ease. Following him to the car waiting for us, I am introduced to Hogan; or Happy as Tony calls him.

Beautifully dressed women and suit-clad men fill every square inch of the gallery. The aristocratic air is stifling and Tony seems to shift into the charismatic, billionaire figure-head the press has pegged him as. Everywhere he steps, eyes follow. From the air of arrogance around him to the animated hand gestures, I watch in some morbid form of amusement as he pulls everyone's attention to him.

As Tony murmurs about going to get a drink, I move through the crowd, looking over each display. As soft classical music wafts through the air, a light blue displayed in my mind, I sway gently to it as I look over one photography showcase. I smile at landscapes and pictures of students in natural poses around campus. I'd recognize this artwork anywhere.

"Lexi?" I flinch at the orange-citrus flavor before looking up at the tall, beautiful blonde, hazel eyes gleaming from behind reading glasses.

"Cassidy Sanders," I greet with a curt nod, "Your showcase is impressive."

"Thanks. I had a chance to look at your's as well. Impressive as always," Cassidy responds

Cassidy Sanders. She is a girl everyone adores. Pure of heart and always kind. There is no way anyone can get by with hating the girl to any degree.

A pair of hands covers my vision and a hum, full of deep bass, travels along the nerves of my skin before I hear, "Bonsoir, mon cher."

Bubbly champagne floods my senses and I feel the hands release me as I turn on heel. Chocolate brown eyes gleam with mischief. Deep auburn hair, cropped short and styled so immaculate that not a strand is out of place. Tall and lean, his figure coated by a deep sapphire suit. Everything about him screamed perfection, at its finest.

"Jacquot," I whisper, feeling the grin slowly stretch across my lips.

"We are in America, mon cher, I insist you call me Jimmy," he responds, his deep, husky voice full of jest.

I can't stop myself as I slowly move closer to the dark-skinned Frenchman, my arms wrapping around his waist as I bury my face in the cloth-covered chest. Inhaling his unique, spicy aroma, I close my eyes as I feel closer at home than I have in so long. The embrace doesn't last long as I feel my own body slowly shudder as the bass-filled hum travels along my skin, and I pull back, giving him a watery smile.

"I have missed you, so much," I admit softly.

Lips press against my forehead gently, "Ah, cher, I have missed you more than you know."

"There you are!"

Apple filters through the champagne taste and I pull back to see Tony pausing in his approach a few feet away from us, "Tony. This is Jacquot, or Jimmy. Jacquot, this is Anthony Stark."

"Tony Stark? As in Stark Industries? Mon Dieu! How did you manage to snag a man like him?" Jimmy asks, grinning suggestively in my direction.

I blush, looking down once again, but Tony answers, "Lexi is a dear friend of mine. She did not wish to arrive here alone, so I offered to be her escort for the evening. Lexi, here, has told me a lot about you."

"Only good things, I hope," Jimmy responds, and I bite the inside of my cheek at the familiar glint in those deep brown eyes.

"Oh yes. You two are the best of friends. You are an incredible painter, though you sing horribly off-key," Tony remarks, grinning as I am shot a playful glare by my companion.

Jimmy takes the time to show us around the gallery. A hot flush spreads across my cheeks the moment we arrive at my surrogate-brother's showcase. At the sight of a very familiar, and extremely embarrassing painting, I don't even hesitate as my hand reaches up and connects with the back of the painter's head.

"You promised you would never show that!" I hiss, trying not to draw attention, as I watch Tony's head tilt, gazing at the same painting.

"Relax, cher, you are a beautiful creature."

"I'll say. Are you really naked under that sheet?" Tony's apple-flavored voice asks and I feel the blush on my cheeks bleed to my ears.

The painting, while slightly exposing, is probably one of Jimmy's best pieces. It doesn't help that I can see the reflection of my own sorrow hidden deep within the painted gaze. The human form, a mandatory piece for all Fine Arts majors, and Jimmy insisted that I be his model. It wasn't my proudest moment, but after some serious convincing, I agreed only in exchange for him to be mine.

"It's embarrassing."

Jimmy snorts, "Are you kidding? It shows you, so exposed, so intimate. It is one of my favorite piece, cher, because you trusted me enough to see you so exposed."

"Excuse me," I bite back the urge to vomit as the flavor of days old milk fills my senses. "I am very interested in your piece here. How much is it going for?"

Jimmy, keyed into my discomfort, reluctantly replies, "Twenty-five thousand."

"I'll take it."

Feeling a heavy sense of discomfort as I look over the dark-haired man with hazel-brown eyes, I fight the urge to buy the piece myself, when apple swarms my taste buds, "Actually, I already staked claim to it, and I am offering a sum of one-hundred thousand."

The man looks over Tony in a manner that causes me to tense, a dark sneer on his face before he turns on heel and saunters off. Jimmy sighs, turning to Tony to refuse the man's exceeding of the original price. I am flattered when Tony insists the painting is worthy more than twenty-five grand, especially since the proceeds go to the American Music and Art Charity Fund.

As the night comes to an end, Tony and I pause in front of the car, and I turn to Jimmy, "Will I see you again?"

"Of course, mon cher. I must return home in a few days, maman hasn't been feeling well, so I want to make sure I am close by if the family needs anything. Mr. Stark," Tony nods in response, "Take care of Lexi. She is a bit of a handful at times, but she carries a heart of gold."

"I will. I hope your mother gets well," Tony replies, and I smile warmly at his show of caring.

"Merci," Jimmy responds, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead, "Au revoir, ma chérie."

Climbing into the bag of the car, I wave briefly before Happy pulls away and the car begins to exit the parking lot. My friend, my brother, whom I love with my heart. I cannot remember a time where he hadn't been around. Sure, before attending college, he hadn't been a part of my life, but that life had been painful and somber. The freak of nature. An outcast in the eyes of society. It didn't matter to my peers back then. The words full of snark and hate. The dirty looks and awful rumors.

"I promise to keep it hidden from the others," Tony's apple-flavor pulls me from my trip down memory lane, and I am surprised to see I am once again in the elevator, "The painting. If you find it so...personal, I will keep it from the others."

I smile at his thoughtfulness, "Merci, Tony."

"Nah. I'd rather keep it for myself," he grins, winking suggestively.

I giggle at his teasing jest, shaking my head, "No, not for that. For being my...escort for tonight."

Tony reaches up, brushing a piece of hair from my face and a shiver travels through me as a faint whisper caresses my skin, "Don't mention it. In fact, it would be my pleasure to play escort for you again."

Stepping out of the elevator, I flash him a small, thankful smile, "So, are we still on for our trip to Central Park?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Gorgeous."

Blushing, I nod and before I can stop myself, I press a small kiss against his cheek, shivering again at the faint whisper, "Thank you, Tony. I'll see you in the morning."

As I shut the door to my room, the faint taste of apple fills my senses, "Yeah...see you then."

Shutting my eyes, I kick off my heels, shrug off my dress and slip into simple lounge wear. Collapsing on my bed, I think back to the brief touch. So...different than anything I've felt before. Most people are either loud, or their touch is a hum of some kind. Never before have I felt a whisper of touch. The sound of his touch reflecting at the soft caress he provided for a brief moment.

Burying my face into a pillow, I let out a muffle groan.

This can't be happening. Seriously. What would a man like Tony Stark, who could have anyone, see in some freak of nature like me. I shudder as the recent memory of wanting to sink into his touch invades my mind.

No. This can't be happening to me.

Let me start this off with saying Jacquot is a nickname for Jacques. Jacques is the French equivalent of James, so Jacquot can be read Jimmy in English standard. This is a slight turning point, as Lexi begins to realize not every touch is loud. Tony's simple gesture (simple to him) is a foreign concept in Lexi's mind, so this will start touch references. I don't want to reveal too much, so...you'll have to wait for it.

In Lexi's mind, this is not considered a date. To Tony's last statement in the chapter, the slightest hesitance, I figured Tony Stark has never had a female companion (seen as a date) leave with a gesture so innocent as a kiss on the cheek. I hope most of you can understand how it can probably throw him for a small loop.

Clint's reaction...um...well, as Lexi and Clint have a sibling-bond, I figured he would be the one to voice an opinion against this outing.

Now, onto my awesome reviewers. Seriously! I left Chapter Five eight hour before starting this, and I jumped from sixteen reviews to twenty-seven. You guys made me all really, really happy. Like on a visceral level!

Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967: Thank you. I am pleased you enjoyed it.

Ravenclaw Slytherin: Again, thank you as well!

yourshowingoffagain: Honestly, your reviews are so encouraging. I apologize for the mercenary/assassin mix-up. I knew they both had been assassins, but I wasn't sure if S.H.I.E.L.D. hired them on as assassins, or as mercenaries. The only reason I use mercenaries is because Natasha is hell-bent on repenting for what she had done in the past, so I believe she would not view herself as an assassin. She has shown skills that lean toward a spy for S.H.I.E.L.D. (reference toward Iron Man 2 movie), but that is my reason behind using mercenary. Clint, same ideal works for him. I hope this chapter is to your liking. Thanks again for your wonderful reviews.

watergoddeskasey: You crazy nutcase! Where are my cupcakes, my evil minion! -lol- Beautimos? Kind of like Infamously Beautiful. Why yes...I do believe it sounds about right. I am pleased you have been enjoying my updates!

.Uchiha : I am pleased you enjoyed the minor Natasha/Lexi moment. I don't want to take Natasha out of character, but find a way for Lexi to become close with her in the way they both already are. I have a feeling, with how innocent Lexi's character is, that it will help her a bit with befriending Natasha more. Thank you!

Beshineshi: You naughty person, you. Reading my story in Chemistry! I feel guilt and yet morbidly pleased. I am glad you are enjoying it so much. Thank you for taking 'precious' time to read it.

To my twenty-three silent, evil minions so far, thanks to those who have read, but still remain silent! You make me so happy.

Until next time.