bakerstreet | Our tiniest steps

Our tiniest steps

little steps

No matter how much they care for the other person and want to be with them, some people simply can't dive head first into relationships. Little things that form intimacy and romance, little acts we take for granted - being close, holding hands, kissing, showing affection in public - they won't or can't do...at least not right off the bat. Something in their past, their experiences, their trauma, or even their personality holds them back. For both them and the person they're "dating," as it were, this can lead to a frustrating experience.

Still, steps can be taken towards letting the walls fall down. Little, tiny steps, but those can mean the world all the same.

The People
One With the help of a partner, one person warms up.
Two Both sides of this couple are learning how to be in a relationship and to be open.

The Actions
Talking → A relationship can't exist if there's not some communication, so either learn to use your words or become so close you can speak without them.
Spending Time → Even such mundane occurrences as watching TV or cooking together is new ground.
Touching → You might just find you enjoy reaching out and touching them.
Kissing → Another kind of touch, when you think about it.
Cuddling → ...at least they're warm and, hopefully, soft.
Sleeping → You're at your absolute weakest when you're asleep. It shows trust to doze off around this person.
Public Display → It's one thing to be in love in private, but showing you care in public is a different story.
Kind Words → Three little words (more or less) are all it takes. Why, then, are they so hard to get out?
Sex The ultimate stumbling block to some. To be laid blissfully bare is to truly let your guard down.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"Page. You been looking into Stark Industries?"

"No?" Her heart leaps into her throat at the mere mention of the name. She swallows hard, frowning down at the message in her hand.

"You sure? Because I thought I was pretty clear about you going off the reservation again. Expos like that should be cleared through me."

"I'm still working on the Fisk thing, boss. You know I wouldn't open up a can of worms like this without at least talking to you about it."

"Okay. Gonna take your word on it. Any reason why they'd be calling you?"

Oh she can think of one or two, maybe. "Not that I'm aware of." She turns the little piece of paper over and looks at the back. No, it's not a joke. The message on the front says, Call the Stark Industries main office. Ask for Captain Jack. They'll put you through to me.

She takes her cellphone and walks upstairs, letting herself out onto the paper's unofficial roof top smoking area. It was a beautiful morning in early autumn, brisk but not enough to require a coat yet. She typed in the number, but it took her a long moment before she tapped the Call button.

"Yes, this is Karen Page. I was told, uh, to ask for Captain Jack?"

Tony had no idea what to expect, and for weeks now - he'd tried his best to simply forget the miracle that was Karen Page. He'd been aware of her of course, knew where she'd taken up work, and maybe... knew where she'd last shopped for groceries, but he also knew that she was just as lonely as he was.

He couldn't blame the message on a whim. He'd thought about doing it for the last two months, and had finally caved when something Jarvis said reminded him of her.

Despite telling himself that he didn't care whether or not Karen returned his call, he'd been continually checking with his AI that the phone systems were functional, occasionally dropping the music volume for hours at a time before giving up and resigning himself to a quiet day alone.

As soon as the call comes through Jarvis informs him. Whichever receptionist it is taking the call seems to remember the name of their caller - there's a lightness in her tone he doesn't like, but it's all forgotten as soon as the call is patched through. He's dropped everything, even himself - into a chair in front of his desk, computer screens surrounding him, blank and lifeless.

"Wasn't sure you'd call back."

"I called as soon as I got your message."

She can't keep the smile out of her voice. She thought their little vacation romance was a one-and-done. She had no idea he'd been thinking about her. For her part, she'd been trying really hard to forget him. He was so completely out of her league, why even bother? She stumbled into a romance novel moment and that was all it was ever going to be. Until now.

Well, unless... Oh jesus, does she have to get tested for something?

"Everything okay?"

As soon as her boss told her. He knows. He's aware of just which paper it is she works for, how their little band of journalists work. He'd wondered if she'd have someone else do the job for her, especially with a name like that tacked onto a call log.

Tony has no idea how to respond, which is entirely the reason why the little gadget in his hand is being gradually pulled apart.

"What are you doing tonight?"

Oh I'm all booked up, sorry. Netflix and laundry. You know how it is.

Nope.

I have a date with someone way more important and attractive than you are.

Impossible.

Drinking myself into a stupor trying to forget how pathetic my life is.

Mmm, maybe.

"I... haven't got any big plans, if that's what you're asking."

Yeah, that sounds totally confident and alluring. Get it, Karen. She rolls her eyes at herself.

He's really not good at this. Sex was never really a pre-arranged deal. Sometimes things happened and it was pretty much guaranteed that the end of the night would find him in bed with someone, but a date.

It's a big deal, and Tony Stark was pretty sure that Karen would appreciate just how big a deal this was for him.

"Pick you up at seven?"

She doesn't answer for a long moment. She fishmouths for a moment, before finding enough air in her lungs to answer. This was Tony Stark. She was nobody. Yeah, the sex had been amazing, and she'd felt something big and unnameable for him from the very first day, but it was never gonna happen.

Except for the part right now where it was totally happening. Okay, maybe it was happening. Don't get your hopes up, Karen.

"How should I dress? Do I need to wear heels?"

He can't help the soft laugh that escapes him at her question. The reality of it has been eating away at him for days since he finally decided to do this. Dating Tony Stark was no small matter, no matter who you were - you didn't stay no one for long. Even after this call, he had a feeling she might phone back and cancel on him.

He's not sure he'd ever seen Karen wearing heels. What difference would it make?

"There's a Thai restaurant on fifth. Dress for that." Idly, he pushes himself up out of his seat, aware that he's not going to be able to suppress the grin currently climbing his face.

"Okay. Um. One more question before you go?"

"Just one?"

Honestly, this awkward tension is going to kill him. Forget aliens.

She can't help but wonder.

"How did you know I liked Thai food?"

How did he know?

For a moment, and it's a moment too long - he's quiet.

"Lucky guess."

"Uh huh."

She's grinning now, licking her lips.

"So. Am I packing an overnight bag? Or are we going to do the awkward kiss on the curb, call you tomorrow thing?"

"You don't even have my direct number, Page."

There's amusement in his tone though, despite all of this.

"Hey, you called me, remember?"

There's laughter running under her words. He did. He called her. He called to ask her out. Tony 'I don't open up' Stark.

"Okay, okay. Seven o'clock, wearing heels. Not bringing money for cab fare home. Sound good?"

"Yeah, I did."

Hearing her laughter is good. It's good for his general wellbeing, and good for his hopes that the rest of the night will be pleasant.

"Yep." Honestly, he's not sure trying to hide his enthusiasm at this point is a constructive thing, but still - giving too much away isn't easy for him. "See you at seven."

"See you then!" She ends the call and taps the phone against her lips, grinning, bouncing on her toes. It was just gone four, and she had to figure out what she was going to wear. She wasn't going to go shopping. (Journalists just don't make that much money.) But she did have a little floral number that looked good with the red heels she'd been dying to wear out.

~=~

Seven o'clock rolls around, and she's just putting the finishing touches on her lipstick. Her hair is down, because yeah, she sucks at doing an up do on the fly. The dress falls to just above her knees with a soft flare, and she even broke out the garters. Mostly because she loves the stockings with the seam up the back with these shoes. Vintage looks good on her, she thinks.

She has her phone next to her on the sink, because she doesn't put it past him to call from whatever car he's sending to pick her up.

As soon as the line cuts he's left staring at his phone. There's a smile on his face, all the same. For all that their holiday seemed a one off, the way they'd been together would have told a different story.

Tonight is likely going to be even weirder for them.

A man like Tony had more fears now than he'd ever thought possible, but there was nothing on this Earth that would stop him from driving himself to pick her up. This is their date, and he'd do everything in his power to make it personal.

His least conspicuous car still makes enough noise to alert most of Karen's neighbourhood of his arrival. Top down, hair done. The light from the Arc Reactor shines through his shirt, but is slightly dulled by the tie over it. He chose to wear a suit, but it's a light grey, formal, but he carries it well. Of course he does.

With a glance over his shoulder and down the street as he comes to a stop, he waits, offering a grin and a quick wave to a passing child and his parent.

She hears the car, too, and goes to the window to look down. Oh sweet jesus, he brought a convertible. She's dreaming, she has to be.

She grabs her purse and is out the door and down the stairs like a shot, pausing only before she steps outside to smooth her hair and her skirt. Elegant, Karen. Let's try that on for size, shall we? Not over-enthusiastic puppy dog.

She steps out onto the street and can't hold back the huge grin that comes with laying eyes on him again. He looked amazing. She walks down the steps and across the sidewalk, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"My mother always thought a boy should come to the door to collect his date. At least I can tell her you didn't beep the horn for me?"

He'd shifted as soon as he'd seen movement at the doorway, shifting to reach over and hook a hand over the back of the seat beside him. It's only so that he can look at her, and suddenly the last three months feel like they have been time well wasted.

There's something about Karen that he likes. More than likes, but that's admitting far more than he thinks he'd ever be prepared for - but it's there. She's stunning.

"Thought the engine spoke for itself." He batted back, reaching over to grab the handle of the door to pop it open for her. "I'd get out - but I'm not sure it'd be here when I turned around again."

"You're probably right," she said, letting herself in and settling beside him.

"Hey you." For a moment, she just looks at him. Drinks him in, really. Being the focus of his attention is like standing naked in a sunbeam. It warms her through and through. She dips her chin and holds off reaching for the seat belt.

"Long time no see."

"Usually."

He doesn't move away as she gets in, even if he feels like he ought to. It's a strange feeling, this sense that they'd never really been apart - or if they had been, that it had only been a week ago that they'd seen each other last.

Eventually, he pulls his hand away from her seat - deciding ultimately that trying to lean in and kiss her is not something he wants to do right now.

"Like a week or something?" Yeah, he can play it cool. One hand hanging over the steering wheel, the other on the gear stick.

"I thought it was yesterday," she says, finally buckling in and sitting back. She stretches her legs out and crosses her ankles. One hand on the windowsill. The other...

Yeah, she touches the back of his hand on the gear shift. Just for a moment. And then she's wrapping it around her middle.

"So what brought this on? Or would answering that be considered opening up?" He doesn't do that. He's told her as much.

His whole hand moves under the gentle touch, a shift against the gear and his focus stays there for a moment too long before he shifts the clutch down and settles for first, glad for something to focus on whilst his thoughts threaten to hurtle past him.

"I had a spare evening." It's as good an excuse as any, even if it were impossibly far from the truth. He turns to look across at her, briefly - the road needs his attention more. Unfortunately. "I'm glad you didn't have plans."

"A spare evening. To research my dining preferences. And my office contact number. And where I live, which I know isn't published anywhere. I have a PO Box for a reason."

She cuts a glance at him, beaming now that she's putting it all together. She'd been too giddy earlier to consider the effort it'd taken him to get to this point.

"I'm glad you called. I've been wondering how you were doing."

No man is an island AU, three months later

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject