bakerstreet | A Picture is Worth... Meme.

[Of course he is, and she knows that, she pats his leg and gives a little shake of her head.]

No. I'm too cold from outside, I need to warm up a little, especially my hands before I crawl under the blanket with you.

[That is one of her many special talents isn't it? As well, as survival in brutally cold conditions. Russian winters aren't known for their... kindness.]

Do you require more body heat?

[ oh okay cool so she is going to, he was starting to think she was just going to stay over there, or maybe she was like somehow impervious to the cold, like that was just some russian thing she could do innately or something ]

I wouldn't really object to it. How are you seriously just sitting there?

[Well, it's equal parts training and stubbornness, honestly. She's cold, but he's colder.]

Through the force of sheer will.

[She sets her mug down on the floor and shifts over to snuggle up to Tony, and pull the blanket around her.]

Once your finished with your cup, I'll see what I can do.

[A pause.]

We could disrobe, body heat for warmth is most effective when nude and under the blanket.

[Reaching down she picks up her mug and takes a drink, before meeting his eyes. And there it is, that smile again. Making it difficult to tell if she's serious or not.]

[ He sips at his drink while he keeps watching her carefully, because it's always better to watch her carefully. Very carefully.

And then what. He seriously can't tell if she's being serious or not, and he doesn't really have the faculty right now to sit there and work it out. ]

Are you serious or are you just screwing with me?

I'm perfectly serious.

[Yes. Even her tone leaves it difficult to determine her actual intent. She takes another drink from her mug, watching him.

She is of course getting a touch of enjoyment from this, she always has had an odd sense of comedic timing.]

I'm almost finished, if you are, I'll get out of these clothes and take care of you.

Edited 2012-11-23 05:16 (UTC)

[ He's still drinking from his mug - it's really quite hot but that's both nice in itself, combating the intense cold creeping within him, and it's something he's just not paying much attention to anyway, since she's being... very something. He can't tell what it is just yet, but it's a lot of whatever it is.

He's also not going to touch his own clothes until he sees her start to mess with hers - this feels a lot like some sort of hazing thing, like the rest of the team is going to pop out, 'Gotcha!' except this isn't actually high school and there's no reason for his imagination to be doing things like that to him aside from the fact that it apparently just hates him. Right now, he sort of hates it a little bit too. ]

Won't take long. Just a little more to go. [ Sip, sip, drink. ]

[She finishes her mug and sets it down on the floor again, following the move with a stretch of her back, before she stands. Tugging the zipper on her suit she drags it down slowly, exposing the creamy flesh beneath.

Either she's going to take this all the way or make him think she is, and do so very convincingly as right now her hand is moving up to push the garment from her shoulders letting it fall to gather at her hips.

What is modesty? Glancing over at him again she raises a brow, and asks.]

Ready yet?

[ ............o.. okay. sure. that was a series of events he was expecting to happen, sure. totally. He follows the trail of the zipper, then the descent of the garment, eyes taking in as much as possible about what was just revealed to the cold winter air.

Those eyes snap back up to her when she speaks again. ]

Uhhh. Yeah. Look, all gone. Totally ready. What am I doing again? Taking things off is just going to be colder. I'm sort of ... against the cold, right now. Mostly.

[She smirks, a little curl of her lips, and unfastens her belt setting it off to the side.

Sitting down again she tilts her head at him.]

For the short term, yes, it will be colder. However, I assure you that once I get under the blanket with you, the cold will not be an issue any longer.

[ stare. ]

Seriously, are you being serious, or just like, hazing, or what, I really can't... Tell, it's a little disconcerting. [ But he's also fucking freezing and hey you know what if he gets naked under this blanket and she was joking and he starts to like, pass out from the cold, that's her problem to deal with, right?

...Yay? ] Okay. [ It's like he answered his own question and didn't tell her the question or the thought process involved. Maybe he's already too cold, or is that just normal? Regardless, he lets moderately less shaking hands go at his shirt, pulling it up over his head. ]

[Just... don't drool.. Okay?]

Stark, do I seriously look like I'm just toying with you.

[Ha! That probably isn't helping anything. But to make her point, once his shirt is off she stands again, shimmies out of the rest of the suit and steps out of it.

There you go, Tony. Naked. And it's clearly cold, if the goosebumps that rise along her flesh and her perfectly peaked nipples weren't an indication.]

Pants as well, if you don't mind, make it quick I'd like to minimize your exposure as much as possible.

...No. [ but that's what makes it seem like she's messing with him most of all!!!!

also really if you wanted him to do something quickly you shouldn't have suddenly become like at least 50% more distracting. there's a moment, a moment, maybe another mo-- okay right he's supposed to be doing something. there's some fumbling under the blanket before he gets irritated and flings it off to the side a little bit - his hands are still not cooperating that well and getting the button and the fly taken care of while he wasn't looking at them was harder than he was expecting. but, that done, with one more quick glance up at her - because really. really? - he shucks off the pants as well.

and is now freezing, jesus, can he make a grab for the blanket, or ]

[She doesn't give him time to even make a play for the blanket before she's stretched out and press against him. Her chest to his, she reaches up and pulls the blanket down over them, kicking it carefully with her feet to cover them completely.

She's sorry, but her skin is a little cooler than she might have liked, but she can't exactly blame him for the extra time it took to get to the necessary state of undress. Between cold fingers and distraction.]

There. Things should heat up now.

[ uhm

uhm

holy god?? what

he swallows once because hey wow that's some fantasy that's happening like right now or something, sure, and she is a little cool, but that's fine, since most of his blood is rushing to the surface of his skin anyway and yeah she's right, things will heat up. it's great that she's stopped moving her legs around, getting the blanket in place. he appreciates the effort, and it was totally necessary, but he'd almost just as soon she not really. move. anymore. ]

Idea you've used a lot?

I have on a few occasions, yes.

[When she speaks her breath is warm on his neck. Her arms, one tucked under her the other over his body. She situates herself so that her feet are over his, offering every tiny bit of contact she can. It's intimate in the sense that she cares enough to do what she can to make him more comfortable.

And at the same time, not really making as big an effort to not make him uncomfortable with the way she slides her body against his to make whatever adjustments that need to be made.

Thankfully, they have the shack and the couch. A bed would have been equally acceptable, as apposed to digging a whole in the snow. Another survival trick, that while works effectively is no where near as comfortable.]

[ It's a comforting thing to know that he was already shivering before, so whatever he's doing right now is probably still totally related to that and not anything she happens to be doing right now. While she isn't as warm as she could be, she's still infinitely better than what he had going on before, all swaddled in the blanket by himself like he was, and he really can't help the way he flattens and reaches for her, rises up to meet her where necessary, trying to eke out every single last bit of contact she's offering, like a starving man lying on a table of food. Or... some better way for that metaphor to go. ]

Good survival skills. [ God, there's a little actual warmth happening, he's far too happy about that. ] Thank you.

[The shivering doesn't bother her, whether it be shivering from the cold, or possible trembling in an effort to do whatever - like controlling his body's natural response to proximity and nudity. She's comfortable enough with herself, and the fact that he's going to get closer once he relaxes a little and realizes that it's helping.

She moves the leg that's on top, sliding it up the outside of his legs and then back down, repeating the movement to create the same frictional warmth effect that she has going on with her hand on his back.

That tiny smile finds it's way to her lips again and she gives a tiny shrug of her shoulders, which in turn moves her chest against his.]

Siberian winters leave you little choice than to have excellent survival skills.

[A nod is all the acknowledgement she gives to the thanks. Good to know that just just had to get you naked to stimulate coherent conversation, even if it is minimal. She won't admit it, but his previous silence was a bit disconcerting.]

This little shack is luxurious compared to some of the places I've had to use this method.

[She rests her cheek against his.]

You're starting to feel warmer, and without a draft in here, it can only get better...

Edited (What is spelling?) 2012-11-23 17:54 (UTC)

[ It's probably like, 90% from the cold. Maybe 80%. Okay, maybe 65%, but that's my final offer.

It's not really going to get any better with her moving around like that either, just saying. He can't really tell whether or not he should be getting closer or backing off, so he just stays where he is for the moment, appreciating the warmth, feeling himself start to get back up to par and thaw out a little. Actually, for that matter, he's just realized: ] That's not too cold, right, the reactor, right on your... skin like that. You don't have to.

[ Ehh, whatever. If it was cold and bothering her he retroactively assumes she would have mentioned something. ] Well, those sound like stories that ought to be shared with the rest of the class.

[ Oh okay that works too. ] Better, or warmer?

[65% sounds reasonable, not even going to haggle.

It's like...she's trying to make this as awkward as possible for him, only in all honesty she's really not. She is simply trying to make sure he gets nice an warm, because whether she'd say so or not, having some sort of company is better than being alone in the cold.

She shakes her head, the reactor is cool against her skin, but it like everything else should warm as time goes on.]

It's fine. I don't mind. [Which basically translates into she wants to, so stop worrying about it, because if she didn't you'd probably be alone and still freezing. It's okay that your flustered, Tony, just... breathe and try not to be have too much like a scared animal. She might just eat you up.]

Perhaps.

[Though, for now that's all she says on the subject. Moving her head to rest on the arm of sofa, so that she might look at him, she offers a little smile.]

I suppose that depends, on what you might consider better.

[The offer might be there, if he can figure out the right way to approach it. She stills her leg, and uses her foot to simply rub the back of his thigh, the hand previously occupied with warming his back switches to a slower more lazy movement while she watches him.]

Better would certainly be warmer, but warmer... might not qualify as better.

[ kind. and he does sort of feel like that's the thing that's happening here, but honestly even with the erotic aspect of her movements he just feels like he's thawing out and getting warmer and coming back to himself and he isn't about to object based on something that honestly, he doesn't really have that much of a problem with. Nudity? Please. Granted, at the moment really his objection is to her, and his inability to account for her motives, and the fact that he knows how goddamn dangerous she is at any single given moment in time. And he's so vulnerable at the moment. So very. ]

Ah. Cool. Good, I mean. Good.

[ He looks back over at her, mostly. Considering. ]

Better's good. It seems the option most worth choosing, at any rate. I think the leg was warmer.

[The sexual aspect of their current situation is, in part, relative to survival. She'd be more dangerous if she thought that his capacity to survive was compromised, at which point she would probably not even try. At this point though, she sees fit to do what needs to be done to keep his body temperature up. And if that means more than just some suggestive touching, then it's your lucky day, Tony.

In that same respect, vulnerability is relative to his warmth. Once he's warmed up enough to process what is going on he'll be back to normal again and probably won't even be think twice about what is going on. Or at the very least that's how she rationalizes things.

She shifts against him, pressing in closer in all the right places, and slides her foot down his leg again, then back up resting it on his hip and hold him to her. Molded against him, her hand drifting down his side. Her expression with the almost fond softness to it, might suggest a coy sort of innocence, if he didn't know her as well as he does.

A long moment passes from the time he finishes speaking to the time her fingers make the slow sweep back up along his rips, before moving to rest on his cheek, her eyes search his briefly before she moves, lips brushing his lightly at first, feeling him out before sealing against his. Gentle fingers coax along his jaw in an effort to relax and open him up to her.

She takes her time, with carefully exploring tongue, not too much but enough of a fleeting taste and light touch to his to be an invitation for more should he choose to take it. Then when she breaks the kiss, she gives his bottom lip teasing nibble and smiles, whispering.]

Better?

[ She presses in closer and he does his best to resolutely not move in reaction to that at all, even though he'd dearly like to - and probably clearly like to, given the utter lack of response he has to her movements there. He just can't seem to get around the Danger, Will Robinson, Danger aspect of being in this situation with her in general. He trusts her not to kill him (unless it will save the lives of a few dozen civilians). He trusts her to be good at what she does, and knows she won't talk about it later. There are things he has faith in her about. They exist. His current buck-naked proximity to her own similar state and proximity is sadly, not one of these times when his faith is all that clear.

His own arms are either being used as a pillow for his head, or are sort of behind him, resting on his own hip, because touching her is still an 'ehhh' area. But as that hand of hers slides up his ribs - ooh, ticklish, ahh - and up to his cheek, his own hand somewhat tentatively, smoothly, quickly slides forward to rest on her own hip, so very, very close to his own right now. Little steps. Carefully made.

Tony wasn't really expecting to be kissed but he can't say he's surprised by it with the high levels of innuendo in the air between them. He allows her the time to feel him out - in all honesty, he loves being feeled out, or explored; loves opening up slowly, incrementally, to people like that - opens to let her explore, only darting towards her own mouth once or twice to see what she'll do but mostly allowing a slow acquaintance.

And nnnnn the nibble. God. He's trying not to react physically to all of this but he's tired, and cold, and she's going things like that, and he's seriously been awake too long and he's exhausted but not that much and in all honesty a little bit more and he won't be able to prevent himself from it. And she'll know. She'll definitely know, all pressed up along him like that. ]

It's a good start. Are you still cold? Should I try for you now?

[Things could be worse. They could be trapped in some Siberian shit hole with nothing at all to keep them warm, but pure will and flimsy hope. This could have been not so many years ago when her survival was paramount over anyone else's. She's not the same as she once was, she's better, more compassionate and there are time, yes, that she wonders if that is better, but she made her choices. For the most part she's content with them. He should, additionally, be grateful it's her, and not someone else like perhaps Barton, who would probably never dream of putting himself in a position like this. She's almost sure he'd rather die than risk possibly being caught naked with Tony.

So there's that.

Dear god, he's ticklish? That is humorous, if she were felling in a more playful mood she might exploit that weakness a little, but for now she files the knowledge away for a later date- in case there is a later date. If things go well, there could be a later date, maybe. By well, obviously, that would mean they didn't die, of course.

She's easy going and considerate of his trepidation, sympathetic even, she knows she's not the easiest person to get along with, and that at times she can come across as cold and frightening. Allowing him his careful exploration she doesn't hold it against him that he's being cautious, hell she actually sort of applauds him for it. She would definitely wonder what was going on if he dove in head long.

Mmmthere see? He touched her and his hand didn't melt off, or get amputated cleanly by some weapon she had hidden somewhere best left to the imagination. Her skin is soft and warm-ish, under his hand. To her he feels at least a few degrees warmer than she does, which is reassuring, since she's more used to being cold, and more able to handle it.

She wets her lips, gazing back at him with bright eyes and an expression that is equal parts relief and interest.]

Good. I'm fine, but if you wish to try I'm sure I could always be better.

[And so it seems, 'better' has become the comfortable choice of words for whatever it is that is going on here. Funny how that works out.]

[ In his opinion, this feels quite a lot like some sort of Siberian-esque shit hole with nothing but a flimsy blanket and pure determination to stay warm. He doesn't have nearly the same sorts of experiences she does with cold - his cold was in the middle of a desert, which, while still hilariously cold, almost can't be on par with a Siberian anything by sheer virtue of longitude. But still. It's pretty cold. And it's cool, because he almost trusts Clint in this kind of situation even less than her, which is a strange thing to think about.

Shut up, he can't help it. Most people are. He thinks. It seems like it anyway. You'd better not try and use that against him or he'll... figure out some sort of mildly irritating comeback that will hopefully in itself not be found worthy of retaliation. So there.

More often than not, Tony does run a little hot, so that makes sense, but it just means that he tends to feel temperature differences a little faster. Generally it's heat that annoys him more than cold, but this kind of cold? This is a little more drastic than just a chilly room, and it's much harder to deal with for someone who is accustomed almost solely to carefully climate controlled indoor areas. He'd probably climate control a beach if he could figure out a way to feasibly do it. Soft and warm-ish are good, but having finally touched her, there's a small barrier that's fallen, and his hand moves up and down a bit to try and do for her what she was doing for him. Frictional warmth just to get things going.

And that reply gets a bit of a narrowed look - not deeply so, just the kind that accompanies someone who is weighing options and tracking a mental chain-of-events and doesn't typically do much to suppress their facial expression in the process.

But, better. Better he can do. Better's easy; he's got a reputation for better in both senses of the word here, so hopefully better should be quite doable. It's not too many moments before he's made a decision - really, there's only the one choice here anyway, let's be honest - and he moves to close the gap between them again, such as it is. Kissing is generally a good place to get things started from, and while he doesn't go at it with as much brashness as he normally might, there's still some experience at hand in the calmer, cautionary approach. His turn to explore a little more, more deeply acquainting himself with her movements, hand sliding over her hip and around her back by habit, staying close. ]

[They'll have to take a vacation there. Show him what happens when you get dumb and eat the snow instead of melting it down for water. He can even have his own snow bank coffin. Sounds like a good time. They should do that next time. Clint can be pretty scary when he wants to be, she doesn't blame him at all there.

She's not. But then again she's not like most people, in any number of ways. She may have been... at one time, but she isn't now. But please she welcomes any thing you might come up with, and if, in fact, it is worthy, she'll even let it stand at that.

It's a deep all over cold that settles in your bones. It's the sort of cold that lingers long after the fire is burning and the room is warm. It stays with you, making everything difficult. She knows. She knows this sort of cold well. And ohyes.. that is nice... it's not enough, but it's a start, and maybe that's simply the human contact, the knowledge that despite what worries him about her he's open to at least trying. Whatever it is, his hand feels so very nice, and warm- for the most part.

She studies his face, he has, for as long as she's known him, displayed a good part of what he was thinking for everyone to see. It's honest, where sometimes the man himself isn't. She can appreciate that.

She likes better, she really does. She matches his pace, easy and careful, letting him feel her out, because she can give just as easily as she can take. Her hand, first gently on his cheek, then curling around the back of his head, fingers stroking through his hair. The other works it's way out from under her, the tips of her fingers brush feather light and teasing across his lower belly.]

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I can't help think Tony's brain is going to fritz out.

it pretty much is, yes.

It'll be alright. /pets him

....are you sure because it's not looking like it

Okay maybe not so sure... but I was trying to be reassuring.

good job. :|

I try.

do you. do you really

No. I really don't... You caught me.

i feel so triumphant.

As you should. Gold star.

do i get gold stars for sarcasm i could have a whole cosmos by now

Yes. Yes, you do.

yessssssssssssssssssssss deal

/stamp of approval

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/o\ /flees

what why, why fleeing, no don't go

I scared myself off with my terrible writing.

what are you even talking about

I'm ridiculous... and clearly just insecure and silly?