Chapter Text
“God damn it!” Bobbi hisses as the ‘assemble’ ringtone goes off.
“Third time, really? Y’know, maybe it’s a sign,” her date says as he pushes off her couch, “that we’re not meant to be anything more.” She stares up at him with a cold smile before getting to her feet and heading toward the door, throwing it open as soon as she can.
“Fine. We’re done. Happy?” He scoffs as he picks his jacket up off the back of her couch and walks out of her apartment. He turns around to say one last thing but she slams the door in his face before he can even open his mouth. “Douchebag,” she mutters, then sighs as she heads toward her closet.
It doesn’t take long for her to slip into her suit and double check her pockets and staves. She heads out the door in a matter of minutes, stealing the cab from her ex-fling with a smug wave.
“Drive,” she orders and the driver turns his head.
“I need an address, love.” She’s a bit taken aback by the accent but it doesn’t slow her down.
“3rd and Broadway.” The driver’s eyebrows fly up his forehead and she slips on her mask just as he faces her, leveling her with a look.
“Are you insane? There’s an alien outbreak up there right now! Also, what on ear-.” Bobbi can see that he pieced together everything as he looks her up and down. “Oh bloody hell.”
“I’ll pay you double, please.” He mutters to himself before speeding off and she slumps into the seat, trying to mentally prepare herself for fighting aliens (it’s something she hasn’t managed to wrap her brain around quite yet, but it keeps her on her toes, to say the very least).
-
Bobbi’s in the middle of a coffee date (with someone else, who manages to understand that her schedule’s a tad hectic) when her phone rings with Shoot to Thrill, which means it can only be one person; the last person on earth she wants to deal with right now.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” she says, and her date just smiles and nods. Bobbi stomps outside and answers the call.
“The hell do you want, Stark?”
“Birdie. Hey. Listen, I need you to bring your pretty little brain into the lab.” With a sigh, she pinches the bridge of her nose and leans up against the window.
“What did you do,” she growls and she's met with nervous laughter.
“Well, you see, I was testing out this high-strength polymer I made and it, uh. It-.”
“Tony, I swear to god,” she says warningly and there's a short pause.
“Everyone’s stuck together and we need your help,” he responds in a rush and she groans.
“Every fucking time I get a damn date, I always have to save people’s asses, god damn it.” Glass breaks in the background, followed by yelling and swears. “What, what happened?”
“Well, Jolly Green’s close to making an appearance. He flailed and hit a beaker, and now the goo is moving.” She's trying to process what's even happening on the other end.
“Bobbi, please, Stark’s hand is stuck to my ass,” Natasha grumbles and Bobbi heaves a sigh.
“Hey now, I’d rather it not be there just as much as you. I value righty way too mu-.”
“Ew. God. I’ll be there in fifteen.” She ends the call and looks wistfully inside the cafe. Her date’s no longer at the table, bills and change left sitting near her cup. “Damnit.”
She hails a cab, hefting her bag over one shoulder, readying herself to change in a confined space. It’s not the easiest thing, but she could manage it if need be. She throws open the door and lies down across the seat, dropping her bag on the floor.
“Stark Tower. Drive,” she orders. “And don’t look back here.”
“Whatever you say, love.” Her fingers stutter over the zipper of her jeans at the familiar accent. “People in this city get weirder and weirder.” Bobbi shakes the thought out of her head and pushes her jeans off, pulling on the suit quickly. She doesn’t necessarily have to change, but she doesn’t know what to expect. Especially if Banner is close to hulking out.
Better safe than sorry.
-
“Where t-. Bloody hell.” Bobbi smirks at the accent as she climbs in the cab.
“Seems we keep running into each other. You up for a little excursion?” The man sighs and turns around, the first good look she gets at him. Deep brown eyes, scruff, a blinding smile that's reflected in every aspect of his face, and she grins back at him.
“As long as you tell me who in the hell you are first.”
“What, you haven't seen the news?” she quips, settling in the seat, taking care that her staves don't dig into her back. “I’m kind of a big deal.”
“Okay, Miss Big Deal, then why are you taking a cab to the latest and greatest baddie of the week?” Bobbi draws her bottom lip between her teeth and Absolutely Does Not cross her arms over her chest, pouting like a two year old.
“I don't live at Stark Tower, which doesn't matter anyway, considering my personal time has been drastically reduced,” she gripes. “Oh, and the bridge, if you don't mind.”
“Whatever you say, Mockingbird.” She sits up in her seat just as the car starts to move.
“You do know who I am!” She glances around the cab, looking for some sort of identification, frowning when she doesn't see a name. “Alright so you know me, but I don't know you. And considering this is the closest thing to a third date I've been on in weeks, it'd be nice to at least know your name.”
“Hunter,” he responds over his shoulder. “Lance Hunter.”
“What is this, some shitty Bond movie?” she jokes, laughter dying down once she catches sight of his pout. “Sorry. So, Mr. Hunter-.”
“If you're going to call me by my name, it’s Hunter. Or even Lance. But please not Mr. Hunter, Christ, I'm not my father. And I take it I’m not gonna know your real name, with the whole Avengers thing and all?” She chuckles quietly to herself and meets Hunter’s gaze in the mirror, smiling warmly.
“Next time I'm in your cab, I'll tell you.”