heartless ; 𝐭. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 , 𝟏

08 - wouldn't dream of it

june 2016

The asset woke up slowly—though she wasn't sure it could be called waking up so much as those green cryo pills wearing off. One by one, her senses became less dull, fading in like a gentle piano piece. First, it was the feel of the cushions embracing her in her lying position, and a...blanket covering her shoulders.

That wasn't there when I laid down.

It seemed she was already charming the man of iron. Good, too; she had just under two months to complete this mission. And if she wanted to make it as satisfying as she could, if she wanted to savor the betrayal that would surely shine in those eyes...well, she had to start luring him in right from the start.

Next, she forced her eyes open, blinking a few times to rid her vision of fatigued blurriness. Staring down at the carpeted floor beneath the couch she was still laying on, she focused on a dark stain that looked as if it were from dirt or drink that had been neglected, never washed out. She thought about how something so simple, so trivial, could seep its way into the foundation, transforming it into something sinister, something beyond evil.

The asset looked up as she heard voices coming from somewhere behind her, sounding like there was a door or a wall in between them. She perked up her ears in an attempt to decipher the muffled words from two males—presumably that Happy Hogan and his boss, her next victim. For a few seconds, she couldn't hear anything but the angry intones of their voices, deep and rumbling for a moment before shifting to a higher, almost whiny pitch.

Asset 53 smirked. They may be men, but they'll always be boys.

"What did you expect me to do, Tony?" Stark's assistant was clearly not happy, though it sounded like this exasperation wasn't anything new for the poor man.

There was a pause. "She's not an animal, Happy, you could have at least given her one of the guest rooms! She's not just a stranger off the street!"

A disgruntled mumbling. Then, "No, that's actually exactly what she is, Tony. You met her and danced with this woman for, what? Fifteen minutes? Then she passed out and you made me drive her—"

"I didn't make you do anything!" Stark responded indignantly. The asset stood up, brushing her dress off and making sure it wasn't too wrinkled. As she padded closer to a door that no doubt blocked her view from the two men, she heard Happy's retort.

"You bribed me, Tony. That's a pretty clear definition of making someone do something."

She was able to see them now, still hanging out of sight by the doorframe that hid her mostly from view.

The billionaire shrugged, crossing his arms. "You didn't have to do it, though."

Happy scoffed. "And give up free Downton Abbey? No thanks. Speaking of which," he held up a hand, "I've already put the Amazon order through, so don't worry about doing all the hard work. I should get my reward for putting up with your bullshit in five to seven business days."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "How did you—?"

"Friday knows I have good intentions," Hogan answered smugly.

Friday? Maybe a pet name? The asset wondered, her brain wired to decipher any type of code she might come across. It couldn't be a pet name. This man had too much OCD tendencies following him around for there to be a pet in this building.