Lamborghini | Tony Stark

EIGHT - TRUST

It had been a week since Tony and Sasha had spoken on the phone before her date with Steve, and the friends hadn't been in touch at all in the seven days that had passed.

Sasha had her head buried in a new case at work before she'd even had chance to empty her mind of the last one, somehow having even less free time than she did before.

After a long day in the office and a rumbling thunderstorm rolling over the purple skies of New York City, the glowing sign of O'Shea's was calling Sasha's name from the window of her office.

She texted Tony on a whim at six-thirty, asking if he was free in an hours time to grab a drink. Half expecting him to blow her off just to prove a point about her doing the same thing to him the other week, Sasha was surprised when he replied within minutes saying he'd be there in an hour.

Within those sixty minutes, Sasha finished up her work for the day and locked up her office, saying goodbye to her boss who happened to be the only other person still working on that Friday night.

The rain was torrential by the time Sasha thanked the doorman, raindrops bouncing up five inches off the ground with such force she thought her umbrella didn't stand much of a chance.

Nevertheless, she put her head down and did her best attempt at a run in heels across the street towards O'Shea's, managing to escape with only the ends of her hair catching in the elements, the rest of her staying reasonably dry.

Sasha was waiting in a booth for less than five minutes before she felt a presence beside her, looking up from her phone and seeing Tony stood with a raised brow and folded arms.

"What are you doing? Why are you sat there without a drink?"

Sasha furrowed her brows, "You said the first round was on you, remember?"

Tony rolled his eyes, scoffing as he walked away, muttering under his breath, "You're unbelievable, Coulson."

He wandered over to the bar, leaning on it with a smile as he caught the eye of the man he knew to be Robbie.

"Mr Stark! What can I get for you, Sir?"

The enthusiasm from the young man made Tony chuckle, a smirk on his face as he grabbed an empty bowl from beside him.

"You're out of peanuts." Tony said, turning the bowl upside down with a raised brow.

Robbie's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, quickly looking underneath the countertop for some more, but not being able to find any as he began to pull more and more boxes from the shelves onto the floor in a panic.

"I'll grab you some from the back. You want two beers like usual?"

"You got it, kid."

Robbie grinned and scurried away into a room behind the bar, leaving Tony stood alone. He had grown used to O'Shea's by that point, having spent more nights than he could remember sat in the same booth opposite Sasha.

It was a dimly lit, run down place that he wouldn't have looked twice at when he walked past the sign on the street, but the clientele were almost always the same whenever he went in. It meant that by that point the stares had stopped and had been swapped out for friendly nods or brief hellos from the other drinkers who'd gotten used to the fact that they drank in the same bar as Tony Stark.

With a sigh, Tony placed down the two beers on the table, diving his hand into a bowl that was full to the brim with salted peanuts.

"Cheers," he said, raising his pint of beer, "To the finest lawyer in all of New York City, congratulations on sending that asshole to jail."