Lamborghini | Tony Stark

THREE - AN INVITATION

"I gotta say, Coulson, I did not have you pinned as the type of girl to drink in an Irish bar. Are these free? Great."

Tony grinned and grabbed a peanut from the bowl on the bar, throwing one into the air and catching it in his mouth before grabbing his beer.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sasha asked, a brow raised while Robbie stood in a stunned silence behind the bar.

Tony shrugged, looking Sasha up at down, "I don't know, maybe the fact you drive a car worth more than this entire joint and everything in it? No offence, kid."

Robbie shook his head nervously when Tony winked at him, "None taken, Sir."

"Sir, I like it. More people should call me that."

Sasha sighed and grabbed her drink, walking over to a booth along the back wall, sliding onto the worn down leather seat and placing her bag and jacket down beside her, sipping her drink as Tony joined her.

"I expected a fancy cocktail bar, champagne, even. Full of surprises, aren't you."

Tony scooped another handful of peanuts into his mouth from the bowl he'd stolen at the bar. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a nylon jacket the same colour as Sasha's blazer, a plain black t-shirt underneath and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses covering his eyes.

"We used to come here, me and Phil."

"Ah." Tony nodded, taking a few gulps of his drink before picking up a beer mat and repeatedly folding it subconsciously.

Sasha looked past Tony's shoulder at the empty booth behind him. She and Phil had always sat at the same table every time they came into O'Shea's, a joke running between them that it'd be bad luck for them to sit anywhere else.

It felt strange for her to be in there with someone else, but there was some kind of comfort that Sasha warmed to being around people that had known her brother well.

"I think the surfer behind the bar likes you, by the way. If you hadn't noticed."

"Robbie? No, absolutely not." Sasha shook her head, furrowing her brows in rejection.

"No? How come? Got a man waiting for you at home?" Tony raised one eyebrow, folding his arms as he leant against the back of the booth.

Sasha just shook her head, causing Tony to scoff and roll his eyes.

"I don't believe that for a second. Pretty girl like you?"

Shrugging, Sasha let out an unbothered sigh, "I don't have time. I work so much that I don't get chance to meet people. Besides, I feel like even if I did, I wouldn't meet anyone that really..."

"Gets you?" Tony interrupted, pulling her wandering eyes away from the television screen behind his head to meet his own.

"Exactly."

"I know how you feel. You like baseball?"

"What?" Sasha pulled a face, confused at the sudden change in subject.

"Baseball. You're watching the baseball game behind me, not looking at me."

Sasha blushed and laughed quietly, taking a swig of beer to cool the embarrassed heat in her cheeks.

"Red Sox."

Tony drew in an unimpressed breath through clenched teeth, giving her a rather disapproving look with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Mets. You've let me down, Coulson. Your taste up until now has been faultless."

Sasha held up her hands in defeat, slouching against the red padded leather. Tony's sharp tongue and quick wit had surprised her, making her wonder how her brother with such a gentle soul and mind could've possibly been friends with him.