The car sped down the New Jersey highway, kicking up a faint cloud of dust. The sun sank over the reddish-brown land at the end of the road, turning the puddles on Manhattan's lead-gray, traffic-choked streets a dazzling gold-red.
When Tony Stark appeared in the café wearing an Iron Man suit, he caused quite a commotion. People pulled out their phones one after another, the constant clicking of camera shutters filling the air. Stark waved impatiently, but the crowd only grew larger.
The clerk behind the counter came out with an ingratiating smile, looking helplessly at the congestion by the entrance. Rubbing his hands together, he was about to step forward and ask Stark not to be so high-profile when a stack of cash was slapped onto the counter.
The chubby boss's gold-glinting eyes lit up from behind the kitchen door. With a smack, the Closed sign was hung on the café's front door.
Stark leaned sideways in the chair by the window with the best view, his hands behind his head. The wind chime over the entrance rang as it was brushed aside, and when the graceful figure of the red-haired female agent appeared around the corner, Stark whistled at Natasha.
Natasha set her handbag aside, sat across from Stark, removed her sunglasses, and raised an eyebrow lightly. "Long time no see, Tony. How have you been lately?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Tony glanced at her sideways, then turned his face away again. "After you left, Little Pepper gave me plenty of trouble. Even if you hadn't come looking for me, I would've gone to Nick and demanded compensation for emotional distress."
Yet Natasha did not put on her usual cold expression and get down to business. She propped her elbow on the table, stretched her pale fingers beneath her