[Whoever said that work and play should never mix clearly has never worked as a spy. Granted, sometimes what may seem like play is still definitely work, but there are many instances in which Liselle, codename Velvet, is happier to have the mission that involves walking through the front door dressed to the nines to seduce the rich billionaire instead of tramping through sewers to an ignored back entrance in hopes that there aren't guard dogs waiting there.
The previous evening's mission had been one of the former. She arrived at a charity function, dressed up enough to catch the eyes of some, but not in anything approaching memorable. The color was one she knew appealed to her mark, a portly American politician who was currently being investigated for selling secrets at events just like this. He approached her, and with a winning smile (and dimples that made the man melt) she pretended to be entertained by his stories, enough to get close to steal the flash drive out of his inside jacket pocket.
When Tony Stark had drawn near, it hadn't been difficult to catch his attention. A laugh just a little too loud. A toss of her hair just a little too exaggerated to catch anyone's eye in their peripheral view. Getting him to come her way had been a piece of cake, and with his attention it was easy enough to give her mark the impression that she would gladly spend time in the company of the billionaire superhero instead of anyone else.
She could have made up an excuse to leave him eventually, but an almost insatiable curiosity about what it might be like at his place led her to accept a ride back. One thing led to another and...well, she woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, sprawled on her stomach with her head resting at the foot of the bed.
this is a terrible idea and I blame you
The previous evening's mission had been one of the former. She arrived at a charity function, dressed up enough to catch the eyes of some, but not in anything approaching memorable. The color was one she knew appealed to her mark, a portly American politician who was currently being investigated for selling secrets at events just like this. He approached her, and with a winning smile (and dimples that made the man melt) she pretended to be entertained by his stories, enough to get close to steal the flash drive out of his inside jacket pocket.
When Tony Stark had drawn near, it hadn't been difficult to catch his attention. A laugh just a little too loud. A toss of her hair just a little too exaggerated to catch anyone's eye in their peripheral view. Getting him to come her way had been a piece of cake, and with his attention it was easy enough to give her mark the impression that she would gladly spend time in the company of the billionaire superhero instead of anyone else.
She could have made up an excuse to leave him eventually, but an almost insatiable curiosity about what it might be like at his place led her to accept a ride back. One thing led to another and...well, she woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, sprawled on her stomach with her head resting at the foot of the bed.
That was new.]