verb.
To come or go back to a place or person.
noun.
The firing of a weapon to counter a shooter's shot.
•
They recoiled from their pasts, and in doing so found each other.
But the universe isn't kind enough to let a moment of peace last.
It took se...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"It looks good, from what I can tell." Kat murmured as she stepped around the illuminated projection rising from the console in the control room, her eyes tracking the intricate blueprints that Tony Stark had been piecing together since his arrival at the Compound a few days prior.
"Because you have so much experience with time machines, right?" The man himself hummed, stood in the middle of the blue glowing frame, turning as he used his hands to adjust a few features.
"I've seen a lot of movies." She countered with a smile as she reached through the projection, watching it flicker eerily around her wrist as she moved to hand Tony one of the two mugs of coffee she carried.
"I uh- I don't..."
"Sorry, forgot." She quickly apologised, diverting her course to instead set the mug on the solid surface of the console, having been reminded several times since Tony's arrival that he didn't care to be handed things. It was with a note of wry amusement that she watched him lift it before her arm had fully withdrawn. "I'd have thought having a kid would help you get over that." She commented idly, moving to perch in her usual office chair as he carried on his analysis of the blueprints.
"That's different." He reasoned quietly, half-lost in thought as he peered at the design. "Morgan can hand me anything she likes."
"Even if it's sticky?" Kat teased, grinning over the rim of her mug. "Kids are always sticky."
"Y'know what?" Tony huffed, "It's weird – you don't notice the ick as much when it's your own. Must be something to do with her being fifty percent me."
"And fifty percent your favourite person in the world – besides your offspring." She added, watching as he stepped out of the framework of the projection to drop into the chair beside her, looking up at the outcome of days of combined work.
"Something like that." He smiled, almost fondly as she followed his gaze.
"Must be a pretty cool kid."
"She is."
In the days since his arrival, the emergence of this wary banter had surprised Kat, but she hadn't questioned it. It wasn't her place to. The animosity that had laced their encounters in previous years had seemingly been laid aside, as it had been when they had visited his home, over a week ago now. It hadn't been addressed, not directly, but his attitude towards her hadn't been hostile. In fact, it had almost been friendly, amidst the chaos that followed his arrival. Perhaps friendly was too strong a word, but his snarky comments usually came with a smile or a note of humour, instead of being edged with venomous thorns.
As well as that, when it had become clear that they would need more allies than the few that currently resided in the Compound, Tony had insisted that Kat remain here with him. Instead of following Natasha to Tokyo – where she had been so certain Barton was going to reappear next, as she had immediately offered to do when her friend announced her plans. On a practical level, she knew that he wanted her here as an extra pair of hands to assist him and Bruce in the construction of the machine he had been designing, but it had been flattering, nonetheless. And in the days that had followed, he could have simply ignored her. He could have kept their interactions professional, surface-level. Used her as a mere assistant, but he hadn't. It had started with asking for her opinion on smaller features, and then launching into explanations of elements she didn't understand, watching carefully to ensure she was keeping up. From there, she wasn't sure how the cordial conversations began, but they did. A small joke here and there, a sarcastic quip, and every now an then, a genuine compliment on her work that had her ears heating with barely-concealed pride.
