Tony sat back in his chair, a casual smile plastered on his face, though his mind was working overtime. Natasha Romanoff. The name sent alarm bells ringing in the back of his head. In the comics from his past-life memories, Natasha is a complex character... A deadly operative who often worked for either S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Red Room, and someone whose motives were rarely clear.
Was her presence here really just a coincidence? Or had he been marked by someone already watching his every move? If she was a spy, there was no telling how deep this went. And this entire place reeks of a setup. Someone might be keeping an eye on him and as soon as he got out of his lab, they put their little plan into action. Starting with the restaurant which is completely packed up with just a single seat open before her and then her emotional story.
'This isn't a coincidence. This is a trap. All these people around me could be spies. Gotta act normal.'
He considered leaving right away, but it will alert them and it's dangerous.
But Tony didn't let his growing paranoia show.
"Well, Natasha Romanoff, seems like the universe decided we needed to meet. So, why don't we make the best of it? Let's put all the worries behind us for a moment and enjoy a good lunch. And not to worry, it's on me and I won't take a no," He said with his usual charming smile. He motioned to the waiter. "Her meal's on me. Get her whatever she wants, plus dessert."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. "You don't have to do that."
Tony waved her off. "Please. It's a small gesture. Besides, I owe you for the entertainment value of imagining you taking down your boss."
She chuckled softly, and he saw some of the tension ease from her posture.
The waiter arrived, pen and paper in hand. Tony ordered a jumbo cheeseburger and a side of onion rings, then glanced at Natasha.
"I'll have the same. Thank you."
The waiter was about to leave.
"Wow! Wait a sec," He stopped the waiter and turned to Natasha. "You don't want dessert? Come on, you can't have a good meal without something sweet."
"I don't think I can finish all this," she said, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Nonsense. I'll eat whatever you can't finish."
"Well, alright. In that case, bring me the apple pie."
"Coming right up," the waiter said, heading back into the kitchen.
The two made small talk as they waited for the food, with Tony steering the conversation away from the heavy topics and focusing on lighthearted banter. He was careful to avoid divulging any details about his past or his current work.
When the food arrived, Natasha dug in with gusto. Tony was surprised to see her put away the massive burger with ease. He signed the waiter to bring another one. Natasha didn't argue and smiled at him. The waiter brought another burger and she took another big bite without holding back. She noticed how he was looking at her with an expression that screamed─ 'Is this girl for real?'
"What? You think a girl can't eat?" She said, smirking.
Tony shook his head. "No, I'm just impressed. I didn't expect you to pack it away like a champ."
"I don't get out much, and my diet consists of cheap takeout," she said between bites. "So, this is a real treat. Besides, gotta fill myself up because tonight I might go to bed empty stomach." She took another bite and tried to speak. "Thanks for the food."
"My pleasure. As for dinner, how about we meet here tonight? Only if you want to," He pointed it out not to sound like a creep.
She smiled, her gaze turning coy. "I'd love that. But, what's the catch? People don't usually do nice things for strangers without wanting something in return."
"You're not a stranger anymore. We've spent the last thirty minutes talking about life and eating together. That makes us friends, and friends look out for each other. Right?" Tony asked, taking a bite of his burger.
"Friends. Yeah. I like the sound of that," Natasha nodded.
"So?" He arched an eyebrow.
"Alright, fine," she laughed, shaking her head. "I'll meet you here tonight. But don't be surprised if I clean out your wallet."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Tony replied with a smile.
The two finished their meals, then came the dessert. The apple pie was warm and fresh, the perfect ending to a surprisingly enjoyable lunch.
Afterward, Tony and Natasha parted ways, with plans to meet up later that evening.
After getting out of the restaurant, he decided to take a walk around the beach. He casually walked with his hands in his pocket. The sound of waves hitting the shore and the distant calls of seagulls should have been relaxing, but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. He looked around at the people nearby—joggers, sunbathers, and surfers—but nothing seemed unusual.
He found a quiet spot near some rocks and sat down on a flat, sun-warmed stone, leaning back against it. The ocean breeze ruffled his hair. For a moment, he let himself unwind, taking deep breaths and releasing the stress that had been building up for weeks. He stretched out on the rock and let out a big yawn.
'Well, time to take a little rest and calm my mind. Can't let the paranoia get the best of me.'
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.
After resting for one hour, he stretched his legs lazily then sat up, and dusted his clothes. The brief rest had done wonders to clear his mind, but the nagging feeling of unease remained.
Tony returned to his facility. But instead of going into the main building, he went to the small building on the right side of the building. The sterile, minimalist room was lined with high-tech equipment, its centerpiece a cylindrical full-body scanner. He took off his clothes, placed them in a box-shaped scanner, and then stepped onto the main scanner platform.
"Hermes, initiate a full-body scan. I want a detailed report on any anomalies, including external trackers or embedded devices. Also, run a sweep of my clothes."
"Understood, sir. Beginning scan sequence," Hermes replied. The scanner whirred to life, its blue light sweeping over Tony's body in precise, methodical passes. A separate arm reached for his clothes, scanning each article with equal precision.
Tony stood still, arms crossed, as the process unfolded. "Give me the good news, Hermes. Or the bad. I can handle either."
The AI's calm voice came through the overhead speakers. "Scan complete. Results are as follows: No foreign objects or trackers detected. Your clothing also tests negative for any embedded surveillance devices. You are clean, sir."
Tony exhaled, a mix of relief and frustration. "That's good, but it means they're either really clever or I'm just being paranoid. Let's keep security on high alert, just in case."
"Red Level security remains active. Shall I enhance monitoring protocols in the surrounding area?"
"Yeah, extend the perimeter sweeps and run facial recognition on any newcomers in Malibu over the past week. And run a facial recognition on all the people in that restaurant. Let's see if there's a pattern."
"Understood. I will begin immediately."
Tony stepped out of the scanner, grabbing a fresh set of clothes from a nearby locker. As he dressed, his mind returned to Natasha. Whether she was friend or foe, one thing was certain: she was far from ordinary. And if there was one thing Tony Stark couldn't resist, it was a good mystery.
[Night] [9 pm]
Tony arrived at the restaurant just before 9 PM, walking as he always did—hands in his pockets, wearing a plain black T-shirt and jeans. Nothing about him stood out, which was just the way he wanted it.
Inside, the place had a relaxed vibe, the crowd thinner than earlier in the day. He spotted Natasha right away. She was seated at their table from lunch, wearing a simple blue shirt and black pants. She looked casual.
He walked over with a small smile. "Hey. Glad to see you made it."
Natasha smiled back. "I almost thought you wouldn't show."
Tony chuckled as he sat down. "Me? Never. Let's just say I don't pass up good food or good company."
They opened the menu and continued to chat...
"So, what's your story?" she asked, leaning in slightly, her tone curious. "What exactly do you do? You're one of the Starks, right?"
"Just a regular guy, really," he said with a shrug. "I like to tinker around with stuff. Build things." He kept it vague, not wanting to give away too much, but also not wanting to seem evasive.
Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she smiled, clearly not fully buying the simplicity of his answer. "Tinker, huh? Sounds like you might be hiding something."
Tony chuckled. "Maybe. But it's nothing too exciting. Just some hobbies, that's all."
Their waiter approached with a notepad, ready to take their order. He glanced at her with a raised brow, signaling her to go first.
"Alright," Natasha said, tapping her chin for a moment. "I'll have the kebab platter and noodle bowl. A diet coke."
Tony nodded. "Good choice." He turned to the waiter. "I'll have the barbeque chicken wings, chicken parm, and cream soda."
The waiter scribbled on his notepad, then nodded. "I'll have your orders up shortly."
"So, what about you, Natasha?" Tony asked, leaning back in his chair as he rested his hands behind his head. "What do you do when you're not, uh, looking for a new job or enjoying a burger with random guys at lunch?"
She smirked, clearly enjoying the playful tone in his voice. "I do a lot of things. Work mostly, you know? But when I have time off... I like to read. And watch movies. Any recommendations?"
Tony smiled. "Well, I've recently discovered that sci-fi isn't so bad. You should check out Star Wars. It's a classic."
"I thought you were going to say Godfather," she said, chuckling softly.
He shrugged. "Godfather is great, but I'm not into gangster stories. What about you? What's your favorite?"
"Well, I do like to watch horror movies," she said with an innocent smile.
His eyes widened, raising an eyebrow. "Really? Like, slasher films? Stuff like that?"
"Yeah." She sounded amused by his reaction. "I love old classic movies. Candyman, Psycho, etc. And yeah, Jason, Freddy, Michael Myers, all that stuff. Love it."
The conversation shifted to books as their food arrived. Natasha seemed particularly interested in Tony's choice of reading material.
"You read much?" she asked, taking a bite of kebab. "Or are you more into just movies?"
"Both, actually. I'm into anything with a bit of mystery. You know, like Sherlock Holmes—the original stuff. But I also like modern thrillers. You ever read any of the Jack Reacher books? Those are fun."
"Definitely," She said with a nod. "I've read a few. Reacher's a bit of a brute, but the stories are always a good time."
They both dug into their food, the conversation flowing easily between bites. Tony found himself laughing more than he expected, enjoying the way their banter was so easy. He never expected someone like Natasha to feel so... normal. But deep inside, he knew it was all fake. The real question was who was the spider and who was the fly?
Their conversation carried on, flowing easily between topics as they finished their meals.
"Well," Natasha said, looking at him with a raised brow. "This was fun. Thanks for the dinner. It's not every day I get treated to a meal like this."
Tony smiled, leaning in slightly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. And hey, we could always do this again sometime."
"Well, you know, as much as I'd like to take up on that offer, I still have to figure out my job situation. But, thanks," she said softly.
"Sigh! A job, huh? Tell you what, meet me here tomorrow at noon around 2. Maybe, I could help you out in finding a good job. And no catch. I promise. We're friends, right?"
She considered his offer. "Okay. But don't go and pull some rich guy stunt. It will piss me off."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony replied.
Natasha rose from her seat, giving Tony one final smile. "Tomorrow then."
He watched her leave, the growing feeling in his chest unsettling.
'That smile...'
The look on her face didn't match what he was seeing. What really lay behind her fake facade?
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