S T A R K.

                 Strangest notion to reach ears, echo around in the mechanic’s head, as he simply stares at Natasha for a solid fifteen seconds. Moments like these where Stark remembers she’s very much human underneath everything sends a shiver of discomfort down his spine -- or was that understanding? Features dissolve to something different before head nods, sigh puffs out gentle past lips that are licked over soon after. “Course not.” Words contradict the action but Tony has already moved back onto fiddling with something to keep his hands busy. Signature smart ass smile rising to lips as he looks at Nat through lashes then points to a screwdriver. “Mind handing me that?”

               “Uh huh --” Furrow of brows settle in as the noise slips from Stark’s mouth laced with skepticism. Practically dripping from his tongue as it clicks light against teeth. “Moving on, are you stalking me?” Repeated question let out as eyes pan over the frame of the kid. God, can’t he get one moment of peace? “You didn’t answer and you’ve been following me around. So one can only assume -- though I don’t like assumptions... often. What do you want, kid?”

                   “Are you stalking me?” Brow risen behind frames of sunglasses -- would wonder why the little whelp was biting at his ankles but Stark knows. So he pokes, he baits. “What was it again -- Spider Boy? Or Itty Bitty Spider? I can’t recall.”

                “Breathe for five seconds there, kid.” He just came to steal a computer from the library -- not get gawked over by some twelve year old, or around there. Fingers snap in front of the other’s face twice, even if Tony is trying to keep some semblance of distance. “Hey, you alive in there?”

                        “Nap when you’re dead -- which could be in a week given our line of work.” Pause is brief before hand moves to poke at her side, body rising back to his feet. “Up, up, it’s an immediate desperation for those petite hands of yours.” Not like he could ask Pepper -- doubts she’d much pick up the phone and Stark is on a time crunch.

               Brow rises upwards slightly, much like the glass moving towards lips before the liquid finds Tony’s mouth -- a hefty amount swallowed back before a smile blossoms. Something like, cheery. “Getting cheeky on me, Nat, I see how it is. And do answer me this -- are you going to be the one to treat me as such? Because I’ll tell you, I’m not an easy princess to handle.”