heartless ; 𝐭. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 , 𝟏

06 - drunken nights

june 2016

"Tell me, Jacqueline..." the billionaire hummed, downing the last gulps of his drink. "Where'd you waltz in from?" He flicked his wrist for another drink to be made.

The asset flashed a smile and brought her glass to her lips. "Wouldn't you like to know," she replied swiftly. She savored the look of surprise that struck him speechless. He was obviously not accustomed to a woman reacting this way to his charms. "Let's just say I...dropped by the neighborhood." Asset 53 put her drink down and sighed lightly. "How'd you find this place?"

"I own it." The words rolled off his tongue so naturally that she nearly missed it.

She'd already known this fact, as it was discussed during her briefing, but she played the part of a demure, mysterious woman in a bar, trying to win the attention of a rich bachelor. So she widened her eyes and pretended to choke on her drink, swallowing roughly. "Sorry, you own this place?"

"The whole thing, Miss Kingston." It was comical, the way Stark smirked and reclaimed dominance of the conversation.

Oh, you poor thing. Thinking you're the one in charge of things here.

Asset 53 swiftly downed the rest of her drink, letting the quick warmth that rose to her cheeks pass as a blush. Within the next few seconds, the effects of the drink wore off, a blessing and a curse of the serum she was created with. Her lips curled into a smile as an idea blossomed in her mind. "Well, Mr. Stark," she stumbled over her words, feigning drunkenness, "I think you owe me a dance after all this talking."

Tony's eyes sparkled with mischief as he saw the way she struggled to stand on her own two feet. "You're sure you can handle it, Jack?"

Her senses piqued at the nickname, a sense of accomplishment entering her veins. "Oui, je vais bien," (yes, I'm fine) she mumbled, the French syllables stumbling from her lips easier than if she had said it in English.

"Ah, you're bilingual," Stark mused, reaching out to hold her up by the forearm. She had gone from wobbling on two feet to pretending to fall over with each step toward the dance floor. "Qu'est-ce que vous faites demain?" (What are you doing tomorrow?)

The asset shrugged, clutching the man's muscular arm for false support. "I dunno, probably trying to figure out what happened tonight."

Stark cocked an eyebrow and chuckled lowly. "You can't hold your alcohol, can you, Jack?"

"I can too," she pushed back like an insolent child. Then, smirking, she tapped her hand against his chest and whispered, "I like the nickname. It's...badass." She gripped his hand and dragged him toward the middle of the bar where there was more open space, the music pulsing from speakers on the walls.

There was hardly anyone dancing, as there was no official dance floor, but the asset pretended not to notice in her feigned drunken state. "I love this song," she hummed in Stark's ear, leaning close and giving him a clear, up-close view of the tight dress she was wearing. Without fail, as expected with every man she'd ever had to seduce, his eyes drifted from her eyes to her chest. But Tony Stark, he was different. He tried to hide it, not out of embarrassment, but out of respect for the drunk stranger sharing his breath in the close air space they were sharing.

Asset 53 tilted her head up and began to sway, letting her body bounce with the beat of the sultry song that blared into her ears. Her eyelids closed and she felt herself sink into the familiar feeling that accompanied her during missions: she was deliciously manipulative, dragging this man down into the devil's arms. This was only the first night, and by the last day, the day she would watch his blood pool into her hands, Tony Stark would be so in love with a ghost that he would welcome his death.

She would make sure of it.

The asset smirked with satisfaction at the thought, watching as the billionaire in front of her just stood, gazing at her like a fine piece of art. Stark lifted an eyebrow and looked somewhere past her shoulder, not really seeing, just...blankly staring into empty space. "Huh. You...you remind me of someone I know."

"Yeah?" She met his eyes slowly, stepping closer so their chests were touching. "Tell me about her." Dragging her fingers down his arms and placing them on her waist, she held back a chuckle as he stumbled to reply, taken aback by her advances.

You'd think Iron Man would have better composure, she thought lowly, but then a sense of accomplishment washed over her. But I'm stronger, she told herself, enjoying the way he gripped her waist tightly, hugging her closer and swaying with her.

They stayed like that for the rest of the song and into the next, dancing and swaying. She was still close enough to hear his breath hitch as she slid her hands up his back, clutching his suit jacket in her fists and tugging him closer than what seemed possible.

Her eyes purposely flitted down to his lips, picking up the fact that he did the same, his tongue darting out to moisten them. You wish, she hummed inwardly. She hovered there for a few seconds, letting his desire for her to kiss him torture him. Then, letting her eyelids droop, she leaned to the side and rested her cheek on his shoulder and felt her legs give out. She had successfully fainted.

"Oh, shit," she heard Stark mutter, catching her and keeping her from falling to the ground. "I was right, Jack," he continued as he picked her up and carried her bridal style to the door, she presumed, as the breeze of the late night swooshed against her bare legs. "You really can't hold your alcohol."

As he kept walking, the asset opened her eyes into slits to scout out where they were headed as best she could. Sure enough, there was a sleek black car waiting for them, a man sitting in the driver's seat and eating what looked to be a sandwich. Upon the arrival of the unlikely pair, the driver jumped, mumbling a curse as he rolled down the window. "Who's she?"

"Mr. Hogan, I would like you to meet Miss Jacqueline Kingston," Stark replied swiftly, deftly opening the backseat door. Carefully bending down and placing her in the vehicle, he stood up. "Please take her back to my place."

The asset's eyes were now closed as she kept up the drunken facade, but she could only imagine the look of shock on the poor driver's face. "You're joking," Mr. Hogan replied.

"Happy, I need you to do this for me. It'll only be this one night, in the morning you can take her back to her hotel," he reasoned.

Asset 53 stifled a growing smirk. Only tonight, huh? We'll see about that, Mr. Stark.

"Tony," Happy Hogan argued, his voice becoming more and more panicked, "she could be a serial killer. I'm not going to—"

"Happy, just drive. Put the car in gear and drive. I'll be home in a few hours." Tony shut the car door and tried to walk away, but Happy bombarded him with arguments, insisting, "I'm not doing this, I'm not doing it, you can't make me," while Tony repeated his name, getting progressively louder each time.

"Happy!" Tony bellowed over the loud driver. "If you do this, I'll buy you every season of Downton Abbey."

The car went silent. Then the car turned on and he put the car in drive. "If you joking, Tony, I swear I'll quit."

The asset could imagine the smirk that grew on the billionaire's face. "That's a good one, Hap." Patting the roof of the car, Tony's voice got quieter as he walked away from the car, calling, "See you at home," as he walked away.

And so, the not-so-drunk assassin sat in the backseat of Tony Stark's car, without Tony Stark.

This mission would require more work.

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whoops sorry for being late, but here's this chapter!

the chapters from the past are pretty much done, there's just one more that i'm gonna use for later, and then the past will be all wrapped up!

oh, and i'm hoping for like fifteen to twenty chapters for this fic, but who really knows. i'll probably drag this out unintentionally and it'll suck.

published on: february 27, 2019