Tony took some time to rearrange his thoughts after locking up the Aiges Serum. He looked at the two surviving terrorists through the observation window. They were unconscious, breathing steadily under the influence of a mild sedative he had injected moments ago. The serum had worked and his experiments had given him groundbreaking data, but now, it was time to change tactics.
"No more human experiments," he muttered to himself.
He had gotten what he needed, and any more would push him further down a path he wasn't willing to walk. Instead, these two would serve a different purpose. He then went inside and injected them with a tiny amount of regular nanites. They will work as both tracker and explosives.
"Hermes, confirm nanite tracking integrity," Tony ordered.
"Tracking signals are stable, Boss. The nanites are circulating within their bloodstream as expected. They'll remain undetectable unless someone performs an advanced bio-scan," Hermes replied.
"Good. I want real-time tracking on them when I release them tonight. If they lead me to another hideout, I want every detail mapped."
"Understood," Hermes acknowledged.
Tony ran a hand through his hair. He had extracted as much data as possible from their devices, but there were always hidden networks, unknown locations, and off-the-record safe houses that weren't documented. By letting these two run free, he'd turn them into beacons leading him straight to the rest of their organization. Besides, they have seen his face so letting them live wasn't an option.
A plan was forming in his mind. He'd create a situation real enough for them to believe they had a chance to escape and wanted terrorists like them wouldn't go to the cops but instead straight to their hideout. The moment they tried to regroup, he'd have their entire network on his radar. Who knows, maybe he will find some resources or bombs in their hideout.
But that was for later.
Right now, he had a lunch to attend.
Tony changed into a casual white shirt and blue jeans. He slipped on his signature sunglasses and smirked at his reflection. No one would suspect that just hours ago, he was in his lab playing god with human biology.
"Alright, Hermes. Put up the usual security protocol. I'll be back after lunch," he said as he placed the arc reactor on his chest under his shirt. Then he locked the main door and walked out of the facility.
His mind momentarily drifted to Natasha. He couldn't wait to see what kind of trick she plans on playing at lunch today.
The real game was how long she could keep up the act before realizing he was playing her just as much as she was playing him.
Tony stretched his arms and began to walk down the road...
Tony strolled through the city streets, feeling the midday sun warm his skin. 'Ahhh! Fresh air, warm sun... I missed this!' He thought to himself. After his little 'experiment', it felt nice to feel alive and well again. He took a deep breath and smiled, enjoying the fresh air.
The restaurant—"Ember & Ash"—stood at the corner of a busy avenue. A sleek, high-end establishment with a modern industrial design, warm lighting, and an ambiance that screams money well spent. Of course, it did. He owned the damn place.
Stepping inside, Tony was immediately met with the inviting aroma of spices, grilled meat, and freshly baked bread. The restaurant was moderately busy, but not packed.
Natasha sat at a corner table near the window, wearing a fitted black top and high-waisted jeans. Casual, but calculated. She sipped on a glass of orange juice, watching him with those ever-knowing green eyes.
"Well, well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living," she teased. "I was starting to think I'd have to put out a missing person's report."
Tony smirked as he slid into the seat across from her. "I'd like to see the report. 'Genius billionaire mysteriously disappears, suspected foul play by jealous ex-girlfriends or corporate rivals.' Would make for a great headline."
"Or," she countered, setting down her glass, "'Tony Stark ghosts a beautiful woman for twenty days. What is he hiding?'"
Tony chuckled. "Oh, come on, Nat. You? Beautiful? I don't see it."
She arched an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to close the space between them. "You sure? You've been staring since you walked in."
He tilted his head, playing along. "That's because I was wondering how many people you've poisoned since I last saw you."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Not many. But I do have something extra special for you today." She gestured to the waiter, who promptly brought over a dish. The scent hit Tony instantly... spicy, aromatic, laced with just enough heat to make his mouth water.
"Let me guess," Tony mused, picking up his fork. "You asked the chef to turn up the spice level to max just to see if I'd sweat."
Natasha smirked. "Consider it payback for ghosting me."
Tony took a bite. The heat was immediate, but nothing he couldn't handle. He chewed thoughtfully, nodding. "Not bad. But you're gonna have to try harder than this if you want to make me break a sweat."
"Oh, I have other ways," she said smoothly, resting her chin on her hand.
He raised an eyebrow. "Flirting, Romanoff? That's not very subtle."
"Who said I was flirting?" she shot back, taking another sip of her orange juice. "Maybe I'm just observing. You've been off the grid for nearly three weeks, and now you show up looking way too well-rested for someone who's been working."
Tony smirked but didn't take the bait. "Oh, you know me. Sleep is for the weak, and I'm just that good at what I do."
"Uh-huh," she murmured, eyes narrowing slightly. "So what have you been working on, boss?"
There it was. The shift.
Tony leaned back, spinning his fork between his fingers. "You mean, what top-secret world-altering project have I been obsessively locked away with, to the point that I forgot to return calls, texts, and check in with my totally-not-suspicious restaurant manager?"
"Something like that." Natasha held his gaze, unreadable.
Tony smiled lazily. "Nothing special. Just tinkering with some medical research. You know, trying to make the world a better place. Very heroic of me."
"Medical research?" She quirked an eyebrow. "Ok. As much as I'd like to know... I guess, this is one of those 'if I tell you, I'll have to kill you' situations. Am I close enough?"
"Maybe," He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "Depends on what you are gonna do after knowing the secret."
"Me?" She smiled coyly. "I don't know. Maybe sell it out for some quick money and run away from here and live a rich life with no worries or responsibilities?"
"Oouch! How could you do that to your poor, innocent boss?" He pressed a palm to his chest in mock hurt.
"Innocent? Yeah, right. And you are too old to play that card." She chuckled.
Tony gasped dramatically. "Old?! I'm wounded! You've struck me straight through the heart, Nat."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Stop being so dramatic. It's not a good look on you."
"Ah, ah, ah!" He waggled a finger at her. "You don't know me well enough to say that. For all you know, I could be a secret drama nerd. I could have a whole collection of Broadway playbills hidden under my bed."
Natasha laughed. "You, a secret theatre nerd? I find that hard to believe."
"Why? Because I'm rich, handsome, and brilliant? Can't I also have a passion for the arts?" he asked innocently.
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a playful whisper. "Maybe... but I think your real passion lies in something else."
"Really?" He mirrored her movement, his own voice dropping. "What do you think it is?"
Her eyes dropped to his lips, and he felt a slight tremor go through him. He swallowed, leaning in further to meet her. He could feel her breath ghosting against his skin, and it took all his self-control to stay still. Her gaze flicked back up to meet his, and he saw a hint of amusement in her green irises.
"Well... I'm guessing you're a very busy man, Mr. Stark. You've got a company to run, research to do, inventions to create... I doubt you have time to sit around and watch musicals every night."
He raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying my passion is work? That's boring. Everyone loves working, but not everyone loves their jobs. Do you love your job, Nat?"
"Yes, I do." She smirked. "Because I love the perks that come with it."
"Perks?" He frowned, acting confused. "Like... free food and drinks?"
"Among other things." She glanced at his lips again before pulling back.
"Other things?" He leaned a bit closer, smirking. "Care to elaborate?"
'What the hell is this going? I keep getting pulled into his pace. But for some reason, I don't hate it. Damn it! What's this feeling?' She also leaned in closer. "Sorry, boss, that's classified information."
"Ohhhh! So we're doing the spy game now? Alright, I can play this game," he challenged.
"Good. I hope you are ready to lose because I'm very good at this game."
"We'll see about that." He was practically whispering now, his voice low and husky.
She tilted her head slightly, studying him with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. Her gaze flickered down to his mouth, then back up to meet his eyes, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The air between them seemed charged, electric, and he could feel the heat radiating off her skin.
"Tell me, boss..." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Are you ready to play?"
Her lips were so close, he could almost smell her cherry lipstick... Her red lips curved into a devilish smile as she watched him try to resist the urge to kiss her. It was infuriating. And it was addictive.
'I should be the one playing her... not the other way around,' he thought. 'Damn it, she is good.'
"It's a dangerous game, Nat. Once you get in, the way out is very difficult. Maybe impossible," He whispered, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke. He pulled back at the last moment and stood up. "And I'd hate to see you get hurt. So, maybe you should back out now while you still can. Or if you want to play, we can play somewhere nice and quiet. Your apartment... Wednesday?"
'Damn it! That was... Wait! Was I angry because he didn't kiss me? And now he wants to come to my apartment. Well... This will make things easier,' She thought.
"Wednesday, evening..." Natasha smirked. "Don't be late."
"I'll be there." Tony grinned. "Well, time to go. See you in two days."
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