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.

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He shifts his hand under hers slightly, at least until the lights change, and there's something exciting about the way she's clearly not used to the speed. He's grinning, despite the sensitive nature of their conversation as he turns back to talk to her.

"I needed to-- make sure of a couple things."

He's gesturing for her hand on the gearstick again as soon as they're moving more fluidly along the road.

"Yeah. I almost didn't."

She laces her fingers through his this time, holding on lightly.

"So you said." She chews her lip for a moment. "I'm gonna guess you wanted to make sure this wasn't a rebound? I mean -- she and I -- we could be sisters, going on looks alone."

Regrettably, he lets out a heavy breath - looking across at her briefly and hoping to soothe whatever she's thinking with a squeeze of her hand.

"Noticed that too huh?" He shakes his head, pulling that hand across to press his lips against the back of her hand. "I needed time."

He kisses her hand and whatever brief concern she'd felt was quickly subsumed again.

"I'm glad you took it." She returns the squeeze, pulling his hand back to her and mirroring the quiet intimacy with a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"It's okay. You're allowed to have a type. I mean, we all have a type of person we're attracted to. Mine is apparently dark hair, well-built, huge heart, thick skull."

Although he says nothing about her gesture, there's a smile on his face that says everything. It's not until she starts with her list that it slips away in favour of an arched eyebrow.

"Are you flirting with me, Ms Page?"

She cuts a glance at him, mirrors that arched eyebrow.

"Have I ever stopped flirting with you, Mister Stark?"

Edited 2016-07-25 20:40 (UTC)

He really needs to stop looking at her, sucking in a breath, he turns his attention back to the road, drumming the fingers of one hand against the steering wheel - other hand dropping to her leg, innocent enough, fingers still laced with hers.

"Point taken."

She's quiet for a moment, her thumb drawing idle circles on the back of his hand.

"I just want you to know, that week we spent together. It was the best week I think I've ever had. I didn't feel like I had to be anything other than myself with you. I mean, it helped not having to look over my shoulder all the time, but it also just felt, I dunno. Easy. I mean, not effortless, but -- I'm not explaining this very well."

If he weren't driving, he'd be across the car by now. Kissing her, because she really needed a little rescuing right now. The words are just as weird to hear, because he thinks them himself.

"I worried that things would be... very different back home." He admits, brushing only his thumb against her leg. "It was a pretty awesome week, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it was," she says, smiling that secret little smile again. "I'm still worried things will be different. This isn't the island. There are other people, Foggy and Matt for instance. And y'know, your guys."

The motherfucking Avengers.

"It's gonna take some getting used to. But I'm in. I'm definitely in for the long haul. If you -- I mean, if that's what you want."

He quite likes that look on her. Although it's not certain just how long they'll have secrets. He's pretty sure that no one else knows about their week together besides the people who worked for him - and he trusted each and every one to stay loyal to his requests for privacy.

"My guys." He laughs again, wiggling his fingers out of her hold and quickly gesturing to where they were. He needs both his hands to steer into the garage of the tower.

"People keep telling me to take the days as they come." He replies, glancing at her quickly before the road needs all his attention. "I like the sound of long haul though."

"People are probably right, but I like to be able to plan ahead." So many things in her life have been taken out of her hands, so many choices with long term devastating after effects, if there's one good thing in her life that she can count on to be there when she needs it? Yeah, she wants to know that. Needs to know that.

She's momentarily distracted from their topic of conversation, instead marveling at the automated garage door that opens without him touching anything. "Is that Jarvis? I mean, you said he's in the building itself, yeah?"

He'd like to be able to count on himself before expecting Karen to count on him for something too. She was strong enough to have dealt with him for a week - and maybe that had been part of his decision to give this a go.

It was worth a shot, after all. Wasn't it?

Apparently, it's not a topic they're going to touch for a while - and he'd be quite happy talking about other things, as much as he wants the things they probably ought to talk about.

"Right. Karen, meet Jarvis. He-- probably knows more than you need to know he knows." Mostly about Karen. Anything else was just common sense, wasn't it? It takes him barely a minute to park up, and he almost throws himself over the seat to grab their food before finally climbing out - holding onto it in one hand whilst he works his tie loose in the other.

"Lock up down here, J. Think we're done for the night."

"Yes, of course sir. Welcome, Miss Page."

She is strong, far stronger than she ever gives herself credit for. She doesn't need a savior. But sometimes, she needs someone to lean on. Someone who knows how bad it can get. Someone who actually gives a shit about her. He seems to be doing better on that front than, well, anyone she's ever met.

A wave of nerves washes over her. The good kind of nerves. Butterflies. She's staying. He seems pretty clear about that. Once she's out of the car, she spins around, looking around for the source of the voice. Eventually, she ends up talking to the ceiling, even as she follows Tony.

"Hi, Jarvis. Please call me Karen." She shoots Tony a look of wide-eyed wonder, and mouths the words Holy Shit! "I'm so glad to finally meet you."

Tony simply watches as she tries to locate a voice, quite used to this kind of excitement in someone else, but it's that enthusiasm he feels that he lives for sometimes. It's easy to forget how iconic Jarvis is when he's the buddy you put together with your own hands.

Another soft laugh escapes him and he sets the food down on a nearby table, reaching out to catch her around the waist again with one hand, abandoning his efforts to take off his tie and choosing to touch her cheek instead, brushing hair from her face.

"I'm not sure we're going to get very far if you keep this up."

She loves how he just reaches out and pulls her close, loves the scent of his cologne and him. His own scent, she remembers it clearly, fresh and clean from the shower. He smells delicious, makes her mouth water and her head spin. She grins, closing her eyes for a moment as he touches her face. (God, she loves that.) She opens her eyes to look at him, a little terrified that she's being played. She wants to trust him, she does. But this is big.

Feeling like this. Knowing it's written on her face, plain as day.

She looks into his eyes, chewing her lower lip, trying not to grin like a damned idiot. Failing spectacularly. "What? What am I doing?"

Tony himself had found concern at the hands of his own whimsical nature. Karen seemed to understand and appreciate the reason why he'd waited such a long time for this, but there's no denying the flash of fear that crosses her occasionally.

The only way he knows of abating those fears is to prove them wrong, which is entirely why they're here isn't it?

He moves in close enough to kiss the cheek he hadn't touched in the last five minutes, staying close enough that his breath catches her ear on his next long exhale.

"Nothing and everything." This isn't the time for admissions and confessions. The 'L' word is so far in their future, especially when he can barely bring himself to tell her how beautiful she is in case for some ridiculous reason he doesn't feel it in the morning.

Her arms thread around his neck and she dips her head to nuzzle along his jaw, her entire figure melting against him from shoulder to knee.

"You're going to be the death of me, I can already tell." It's said with deep affection, and yeah, there's a part of her that believes this is doomed from the start. So why not just buckle in and enjoy the ride while it lasts?

Because the 'L' word has already been hovering just below the surface for months, haunting her with the memory of his laugh, the memory of his fingertips carding through her hair. Maybe someday she'd tell him that she'd cried when he left, but it doesn't matter right now.

Right now, what matters is the feel of his breath at her throat and the way she can feel his voice vibrating in her chest.

He's gentle about the way he tips his head against her, shifting just enough to be able to press his lips against the side of her head. It's strategic, means she can't see the look on his face as he absently stares off over her head and the cars around them.

Eventually, he sucks in a breath and leans back - hands moving to slide up against her elbows, thumbs brushing her skin lightly.

"We really don't want that." He whispers, letting go of one elbow and slipping the other down into her hand, fingers threading between hers before he leads her away - scooping up the take out as he goes.

"So, are we making a pit stop at the workshop for this-- photo project of yours or can I show you to the kitchen for this dinner that keeps getting cold?"

"Kitchen. I'm starving, actually." She follows eagerly, closing her hand around his to keep him from getting too far ahead. The clip of her heels rings in the space around them, and he's managed somehow to thoroughly distract her from taking in all the details. All she knows is that there's a private elevator with highly polished stainless steel walls big enough to drive one of the cars into, and yet, still somehow less than industrial. While he's pushing the button for the floor, she wobbles a bit, using his hand to balance as she slips her heels off.

"Ugh, sorry. My feet were killing me. I haven't worn heels in ages."

"Mhm."

There's little else to say on the matter, because although he's not quite as hungry as she seems, he knows that the sooner they eat the sooner they can sit down and talk. The sooner they can-- move on to things that require the energy from eating.

A quick retinal scan allows him access to the penthouse suite, and just as he steps back the pressure in his hand changes and he's left tipping his head at her, lips still quirked into a smile as he watches.

"But you've got plenty to choose from? Did it take long?" He asks, glancing up and down her body, gesturing to the outfit with none of the lecherousness afford to her outside of this building.

She grins at him, tucking the heels under her arm so she can step in close and stroke his half-rumpled tie again. Okay the tie is a loss, so she slips her hand underneath to lay it over the Arc Reactor. There's a very faint hum she can feel through her palm, if she remembers right. Yeah, there it is. The smile lines around her eyes deepen.

"I bought this dress on a whim right after I got back from vacation. I didn't spend all anywhere near what I budgeted, so I had some cash left over. It's vintage. I built the whole outfit around it, spent the equivalent of half my paycheck on the shoes alone. I had this weird idea I might go dancing in it someday."

It's this kind of thing.

There's something about how she conducts herself, the things she does when she touches him, how she does it. His chest heaves with a sigh heavier than the moment deserves, but he's simply shocked that it isn't suffocating.

Karen's little story has him smirking - because he's pretty sure she ended up leaving without spending a penny. He's impressed with the get up though, and his head tips to get another look, acting like it was the first time he'd seen it when really he'd been looking almost constantly.

"You want to go dancing?"

She drags her teeth over her lower lip, a touch of pink rising in the apples of her cheeks.

"I would love to go dancing with you."

She lightly threads a finger through his tie and finishes it off, pulling the tail through the knot and balancing it so it can hang around his neck without slipping off.

"One condition, though. I like dancing to live music. Clubs really don't do it for me."

"Hmm."

It's a thoughtful sound whilst she continues talking, distracted briefly by the focus on his tie but pulled back in by her as soon as it rests there loose against his shirt.

"Top three favourite bands, go."

He needs an idea of what kind of live music he's going to be taking her to. This might be easier than trying to work what kind of club they were going to get into without getting lynched.

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