dial tone

[formoftherapy]

It's a Saturday, nothing special about it.

Kite, having done all of the homework she plans on doing and unable to settle on what to do next, grabs for her phone.

She calls Tony's house. (Nothing special about that, either.)

Comments

[toblameforit]

Equally, there is nothing special about the voice that answers. Sometimes you get Jarvis after the first ring; sometimes, like now, you get Tony after the second or third.

("Miss Morian is calling. Shall I—?"

"Put her through to me.")

Cheerfully: "Hey."

[formoftherapy]

"Hey."

You can hear the grin in her voice.

"You mind if I come over?"

[toblameforit]

"Mind?" He laughs. "Hell no."

[formoftherapy]

"Good, because I'd show up anyway. See you in a few."

She hangs up without saying goodbye.

[if_inconvenient]

"...Might I suggest, sir, that—"

"Don't, Jarvis." The easy smile, the Tony smile, fades from his face. "Just don't."

[formoftherapy]

Some time later...




Knock, knock.

[toblameforit]

Silence.



Silence.





A muffled thud; moments later, he opens the door, breathless from sliding down the banister. "Kite! What's up?" he asks, running his fingers through his hair to get it out of his eyes.

[formoftherapy]

She shrugs.

"Not much. Got sick of kicking around the house by myself, thought I'd see what you're up to."

[toblameforit]

"Kicking around the house by myself," he admits cheerfully. "Sherry's—" (the usual belated wince, seen whenever Tony forgets and says the nickname to someone who is not Sherlock) "—at the library doing God knows what."

[formoftherapy]

"Plotting world domination?" Kite guesses.

[toblameforit]

"Hah! I wish. Might get him out of the house more'n once a week."

Tony often says these slightly insensitive things about his brother, and he often says them with that underlying edge of fondness.

[formoftherapy]

She laughs a little, shaking her head.

"Please. He could plot just as easily from here and you wouldn't know anything was up until his face was on the money."

[toblameforit]

In classic Tony style, he realizes at last that he is blocking the doorway, and moves back to let her in.

"Now there's a scary thought," he says with an exaggerated shudder. "Sherlock Holmes, U.S. president. Obie would shit bricks."

(Sherlock and Obadiah have never quite gotten along. They've always been a little... distant, in a way Obie never is with Tony.)

[formoftherapy]

She grins as she steps inside.

"In that case, it's definitely on his to do list."

(Despite having yet to meet Obadiah, Kite's been able to pick up on the tension between them.)

[toblameforit]

He snorts. "Even Sherlock" (see! He remembered!) "wouldn't take over the country just to get a burr up somebody's ass."

Beat.

"Probably."

[formoftherapy]

See Kite's skeptical face.



"You've met him, right?"

[toblameforit]

"Known him all his life."

[formoftherapy]

She laughs, ruffling his hair.

"Kinda figured that was a given."

[toblameforit]

He ducks, wrinkles his nose at her, and ruffles right back.

[formoftherapy]

Kite fluffs her hair idly with one hand.

"So. We've got the run of the house. Any ideas?"

[toblameforit]

Well, he has one.

[formoftherapy]

Kite can guess what that might be.



"Nobody'll ever accuse you of having a one track mind." She slips an arm around his waist.

[toblameforit]

"'Course not," he agrees, turning in towards her. His breath is warm against her cheek.



A little hesitant, at the last second before his hands settle to her hips? Surely not.

[formoftherapy]

She ducks her head, lips brushing his neck when she speaks.

"Perish the thought."

[toblameforit]

He chuckles, kissing her hairline.

It's one of—Sherry's pet phrases.