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were-cheetah-stiles · 7 years ago

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The Recruit (Chapter 27) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 104, Part II”

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Aiden Breen, Stan Hurley, Ghost & Reader/OFC

Warnings: Violence, hopefully graphic depictions of it if i did my job right.

Author’s Note: Watch Me :D (OR ME!)

Summary: Mitch goes after Hamdi Sharif, only to find himself walking into Sharif's heavily defended hotel room.

Chapter Twenty-Six - Chapter Twenty-Seven - Chapter Twenty-Eight

"He just took off after Sharif, Sir." Aiden updated Stan, coming off as a little more frantic sounding to his superior than he had hoped.

"Where is he, Y/n. I'm driving blind here." Mitch spoke through Aiden's computer speakers and your earpiece.

"CUT HIM OFF, BREEN." Stan screamed through the speaker on Aiden's computer. Aiden glanced at you, who had paused from typing on your laptop, trying to pinpoint Sharif's exact location to give Mitch directions.

"Y/n.. come on, I'm gonna lose him." Mitch begged.

"CUT HIM OFF!" Stan yelled again, done with Mitch's insubordination.

Aiden hit a short sequence of keys on his computer and suddenly Mitch's earpiece was cut off. "ARE YOU INSANE?" You screamed at Aiden, who looked guilty for his action and surprised by your rage. "Jesus fuck!" You, ripped your earpiece out, pulled your burner phone from your jacket pocket and dialed Mitch's number. You quickly reached in your bag to grab your headphones with the mouthpiece attached to talk to him handsfree. "Mitch?"

"Are you the only one that can hear me, Y/n/n?" Mitch asked, the sound of his powerful engine revving in the background.

"Yea, I'm working on getting you his location. I'm almost there. Give me twenty more seconds." You typed furiously on your computer, scanning the street cameras you were hacking into for any trace of the car. "I've got him." You pulled up the city infrastructure map. "Turn right in 700 yards."

"Is she helping him?" Stan yelled through Aiden's speakers. "Stop her! What the fuck is going on? Have you lost your mind, Y/n?"

Aiden reached for your laptop, and you reached for your loaded gun and swung it around in Aiden's direction. You pointed it down towards the floor of the car, not wanting to directly aim it at your friend and instructor. "Either you help me, or you get out of the car." You gave Aiden the ultimatum.

Aiden tilted his head to the side and moved in a way that displeased you, so you finally raised your gun up to his face, inches away from his forehead. "Y/n..." Aiden whispered, stunned by your actions.

"I made the right, Y/n/n, where do I go now?" Mitch spoke into your ear.

"Get out, Aiden. Now." Aiden did as he was told and slowly exited the car. You glanced at your computer screen and spoke to Mitch as you reached across the length of the backseat to shut the door. "Your next left, take it."

"The alley?"

"The alley." You confirmed. "I'm coming to back you up." You said, once Aiden stood a safe distance away. You hopped in the driver's seat, turned the keys in the ignition, grabbed the laptop from the back, and placed it on the passenger's seat. You peeled out of Sultanahmet Square, now completely deserted because of the shooting. You passed a flurry of police cars heading in the direction that you were driving away from, and you sped erratically towards Mitch.

"Do you still have him, Y/f/i? Where am I going once I get out of this long ass alley?"

"Yea, I have him. The alley, it's a short-cut, you're going to make your first left, then your third left, and first right and you'll be on his tail." You heard the engine revving again in the background, and you followed your own directions to catch up with him. You breathed heavily through your nose, your thoughts clouding your ability to multi-task now that it was suddenly quiet and your adrenaline began to return to a normal level. "Are you okay, Mitch?" You forgot that you were no longer on a secure line and that Aiden or Stan could easily tap your call if they wanted to.

"I'm okay, Y/f/i. I didn't get hit."

"Okay..."

"You weren't even in the same room as me and you still had me. You always got my back, Y/n/n."

You exhaled at his words, a small smile settling on your lips. "Always." You whispered.

"I see him. I'm slowing down. He doesn't know this car. I'm gonna follow him. Peel off, Y/n/n. When he settles down and stops driving, come after me. I don't want him getting suspicious of two cars following him." Mitch made a valid request.

"Okay, I'm gonna hang up so that Aiden can't track you. Call me as soon as he parks."

"I will."

"Mitch.." If you could, if the two of you had been saying it, your next words would have been 'I love you.'

"I know, Y/n/n." And Mitch did know that you loved him.

Your phone rang once, and you immediately picked up when you saw the number. You waited, silently, for him to speak first. "He parked."

"I saw."

"You still got us on your computer?" Mitch asked through the speaker.

"Yea. I've been following you for an hour. Wait for me, M. I'm coming to back you up." You said, as you started the engine of your car again.

"I don't wanna let him get away. I'm going up there, Y/f/i. I saw men with guns in the window of one of the rooms on the top floor. It has to be him."

"What are you going to do? Just waltz through the front door?" You asked facetiously, your accelerating engine making you speak loudly.

"I was thinking about the back door." Mitch said, eyeing a sliding glass door high up on the building.

"I guess I've got the front covered then."

"When you get here, tell Stan where we are, Y/f/i."

"I know. I will. Although, I'd be surprised if he doesn't already know."

"I'll see you in a little. Be careful."

"You too." You glanced down at your phone. The line was dead. You shoved it in your jacket pocket and sped off in his direction.

Mitch got out of the car, parked behind the building that Hamdi Sharif had entered no more than five minutes before. He began climbing on the hood of the car closest to the green wrought iron fence that bordered the back of the building. He carefully scaled the tall fence, skillfully avoiding the tangles of barbed wire at the top. He glanced up at the building and plotted his course; Sharif was on the seventh floor. Mitch thought back to the rock climbing he had done recently in Kentucky and how he kept thinking that he could've done all of it without ropes. He snickered silently to himself; he was about to get a chance to test that theory.

Mitch slowly and carefully scaled the side of the modern-style building, using window ledges, balconies and structural embellishments to to get higher and higher up. He made it to the seventh floor with relative ease, smirking to himself that he would get to brag to you later that the tread on the bottom of his Adidas helped to keep him from falling.

Movement caught his eye from inside of the apartment, and Mitch spotted a woman in a loose silk bathrobe staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window that he wanted to enter through. He stood, his back against the curtain-covered glass windows, trying to remain unseen, and watched her walk away. He glanced down, staring at the distance between the ledge that he was standing on ended and where the window he was going to enter from. He devised a plan as she walked back into the apartment. He leapt from the ledge to the edge of the balcony across the way, gripping the glass railing to steady himself. He quietly popped the window open and slid through, watching her walk down the hall away from him.

He knew this wasn't his best idea. He was going in to the hotel room blind; no idea of how many men Sharif had guarding him and where any of them were. The only certainty he had was that Sharif was the kind of man that brought an army along with him everywhere he went, and that he would more than likely supply them with an armory to match.

Mitch peeked around the corner, into the room where the barely clothed woman had just walked through. He watched her close the door behind her in what he assumed was the bedroom portion of the very large suite they were in. Mitch counted five men with guns and knives, relaxing on the sofas in the living area, not being vigilant enough to catch on to his intrusion. He clocked two more, with semi-automatic weaponry strapped around their necks, resting in their hands ready to shoot, guarding the bedroom door. That was clearly where Mitch had to get into.

"SEN!" A man shouted in modern Turkish.

Mitch turned and saw a man approach him with a gun, a commotion began in the other room. Mitch was clearly not incognito any longer. The man pointed his gun at Mitch, and Mitch pretended to put his hands above his head, but quickly elbowed the man in the face and disarmed him, then using the man's own gun, Mitch shot him in the knee. The man went down and Mitch was bombarded by a throng of new combatants.

Mitch shot another and then threw the gun to the side when it jammed. He was more efficient than a shoddily made firearm anyway. He flipped the first man to come at him with a knife down to the ground and began punching him ferociously across the jaw, blood spraying across the carpet. He looked up just in time to see the butt of a handgun come across his face.

Mitch came to moments later, picking his hand up to the outside of his right browbone and feeling warm blood dribble down his fingers.

"On your knees, hands behind your head." Ghost said bluntly.

Mitch did as he was told, folded his hands neatly behind his head, and stared up at Ghost. Mitch felt that his gun had been taken from the back of his jeans, and he began running through the different scenarios he could play out to get himself out of the situation he put himself in. Ghost interrupted his internal game plan when he spoke again.

"You were the one in the cafe. Who are you?" Mitch stared back at him, defiantly quiet. "Why are you following me? You in the CIA?" Ghost leaned down and kept his face in front of Mitch's, trying to intimidate him into answering his line of questioning. Mitch stared back, his lips pressed gently against each other, and he just blinked until Ghost grew tired of waiting. "He's not going to say anything, and it doesn't really matter who he is anyway."

Ghost turned around and picked up the metal briefcase that he left on an end table in the living room. He began heading for the door, when one of the Turkish men, with his gun drawn towards Mitch's figure, spoke up.

"What are we supposed to do with him?" The henchman asked.

"Kill him." Ghost replied as he left the hotel room, with two of his men in tow.

You pulled up and parked on the street in front of the hotel. You closed the laptop on the passenger seat and sent a text to Stan's phone with your location. You grabbed an extra magazine of ammunition from your satchel on the floor of the backseat and stuck it in your jacket pocket. You left the car unlocked and briskly walked towards the main entrance. A group of five men, clearly packing weapons from the way that they walked, clearly weighted to one side as they tried to conceal their firearms, walked in before you and got on the first of three elevators on the ground floor. The middle elevator was coming down and the third elevator finally opened its doors for you. You waited, watching where the group of men were going. The first elevator stopped on the seventh floor. They were backup to kill Mitch.

"Shit." You sprinted into the third elevator and hit the '7' button several times until the doors closed.

Mitch had his game plan in mind and the henchman surrounding him played right into it. The man closest, pointing the gun at the back of Mitch's head, stepped forward and pressed the barrel against the backs of Mitch's fingers. Mitch knew he had to act.

Mitch turned abruptly, clapped his hands over the the hand holding the gun behind him, startling the man and grabbing his gun from him. The other henchman scattered into action. Mitch, rose to his feet, held the handgun in his right hand and swung his left fist back and up, making contact with the bridge of the man's nose and throwing him back against the wall.

Another man charged at Mitch from behind, and without turning hardly at all, Mitch glanced behind him, and elbowed the charging man in the face hard. He went down without a second hit.

Mitch finally cocked the gun, arming it, and shot off rapid fire shots. The first round went into the first man's head, right between his eyes. He laid splayed across the white rug on the floor, blood slowly pooling next to his neck. The second round took out the two men next to him. Mitch turned and shot off a fourth round into the man who he had elbowed earlier, at a close range, into his forehead. The fourth man's blood sprayed across Mitch's face and shirt, and stained the white rug underneath him further, showering the room in the red liquid.

He didn't even hear the sounds of the men groaning or screaming in agony when they were shot or dying, and it wasn't because of the loud shots coming from the barrel of his gun, Mitch was just zoned in and on a mission and he became incredibly single-minded. The rest of the world faded to black. It was just him and the task at hand.

Mitch rotated on the balls of his feet, surveying his damage. The second man he had shot, was merely wounded and writhed in agony on the carpet. Mitch stood over him and pumped two more rounds into his face and chest. The man suddenly became still.

The action on Mitch's gun indicated that his magazine was empty. Mitch tossed the useless weapon onto one of the bodies on the floor, and counted who was around him, while wiping away at the hair that clung to the sweat on his forehead. He smeared blood on his face and counted four. Four bodies. Someone was missing from earlier.

He glanced up and saw a fit but balding older man in a black-on-black well fitted suit, holding a fully automatic assault rifle in his hands, standing between Mitch and the bedroom that held Hamdi Sharif.

You watched as the numbers slowly ascended and you grew closer to the seventh floor. The elevator made a dinging noise as it reached its intended destination and the silver doors began to open. The elevator next to yours made the same dinging sound and you figured that middle elevator had reached the first floor. You peeked your head out, your Glock readied in your hands but pointed at the white carpet beneath you, and you counted five men rounding the corner in the hall towards the suite at the end. You tip-toed behind them, surveying the hall for better cover; there was not much. The doors to the other suites were barely indented into the wall, but you would have to make do.

You waited to confirm that the group was heading to Sharif's hotel room and when it was essentially the only door left at the end of the hall, you aimed your gun at the neck of the furthest man. For a split moment, Dan Brunski's face appeared in your mind. You hesitated, and then heard gun fire, and finally took action. Aim, exhale, pull.

The farthest man's body hit the floor, like a heavy sack of potatoes being carelessly tossed to the ground. The sound of the man gurgling and choking on his own blood began to fill the hall. The other men scrambled and began firing back at you. You peeked out quickly, dodging heavy fire, and took down two more men. Aim, exhale, pull. Aim, exhale, pull. The first man writhed in pain on the ground, grasping his thigh and trying to keep from bleeding out, while the other man collapsed to the ground - an instant kill shot.

You pushed your body as hard against the indented door as you could, trying to flatten yourself out in order to not get hit, and when you heard one of their clips hitch, indicating it needed to be reloaded, you peeked out into the hall. Neither man was to be found. You heard movement up ahead and suddenly saw one of the henchmen pop out from behind a decorative pillar in the wall, the other man behind him, and he began firing at you.

One bullet grazed the side of your arm and you sunk back against the door again. You pushed your fingers against your arm, blood dripping off of your fingers as you looked down at them. You had been counting bullets. One of them was going to have to reload again in a moment if they kept up the assault that they were currently trying for. You heard the last bullet casing drop, and popped out from behind the doorframe again, regardless of the other man still firing. It was kill or be killed. You trained your gun on the one still firing and pumped two rounds into his chest. You had been hit a little more seriously in the left arm this time, but the adrenaline was coursing through your veins and you had one target left between you and Mitch.

He frantically fumbled with reloading his semi-automatic assault rifle, but it was all in vein. You walked up to him, ducked out of the way of him trying to smash you across the face with the butt of his weapon, and you emptied three more rounds into the man's gut. He dropped to the ground with a thud. You walked back to the man who you had shot in the thigh and emptied your mag into the man's body, well after he finally stopped moving. You shoved your gun into your left hand, and reached into your right side jacket pocket, grabbing the loaded cartridge out, dropping the empty mag on the blood soaked carpet, and painfully slamming the new ammo into place in your gun. You turned and headed towards the door of Sharif's room.

Mitch and the man in the black suit holding a Russian AK-74M black assault rifle stared at each other, both still, for a prolonged moment. They were never destined for just a staredown, however.

The henchman in black lurched into action and aimed his firearm at Mitch, who ducked out of the way and behind the bar. Broken glass and wooden shards began flying around Mitch's head, and he covered his face with his arms. The shoddily made Soviet-era weapon jammed and the man in black attempted to unblock his firearm. Mitch took the opportunity. He climbed up onto the bar, leapt off of it, and knocked into the man. They tumbled together over one of the olive green sofas in the living room, and fell into the glass-topped coffee table, shattering it into a million tiny pieces below them.

Mitch was so jacked with adrenaline that he didn't feel a single iota of pain. He wrapped his thighs around the man's head and neck, hyperextending his enemy's shoulder backwards and pulling at the rifle until it finally was free of his grip. Mitch lost his hold and the gun flew backwards towards the side of the couch and away from the two men. Mitch got up onto his knees, the crunching of glass under his hand and blue denim jeans echoed loudly in his ears but he didn't have time to care, as he watched as the man pulled a small silver dagger from his inside jacket pocket.

The man in black blocked one of Mitch's first attempts to disarm him, and tried to plunge the knife into Mitch's armpit. This was a move he recognized immediately. This was a worthy opponent for Mitch. This man was more than just a hired mercenary, he was a trained killer himself. Mitch had been taught by Stan how to slip a knife through a person's armpit and pop their heart like it was a carnival balloon; so when the man tried to do it to him, Mitch was also prepared with the move to stop it.

Mitch moved towards the man in black, allowing the knife to miss and leave a shallow slice across his shoulder blade instead; a fair trade off in Mitch's eyes. Mitch moved his arm on top of his opponent's forearm, locking him against Mitch's body, and he pulled, while delivering a quick right hook to the man's jaw. The knife dropped to the ground next to Mitch's leg.

Mitch got up and went for the gun lying on the ground, but when he turned around, the man had produced two more knives. Mitch dropped the gun to the ground again as he saw the man lunge at him, the knife coming down from above his head with strong momentum. Mitch grabbed the man's forearm with both of his hands, defending his person from being stabbed, but he got slashed on his right side, just below his ribs, with the second knife.

Mitch managed to pry the first knife out of his fighting partner's hand, and he lunged out of the way of another stabbing attempt, instead, getting to the side of the man in black, and stabbing him in the arm. The man cried out in pain but continued the fight to the death, a fact that both of them fully understood. It was always kill or be killed in this business. The man went for one more attempt at stabbing Mitch. He tried to push the dagger deep into Mitch's throat, if successful, a move that would've made Mitch's last moments full of unbearable suffering.

Mitch slid to the right, putting his body parallel to the knife, and he grabbed the man's arm. Mitch had the perfect grip, his left hand just above the man's wrist, and his right hand on his elbow. Mitch simultaneously pulled backwards on his wrist and pushed forward on his elbow, all while yanking at his shoulder. Mitch heard several cracks and pops and the man screamed in anguish. Mitch had, all at once, broken the man in black's elbow, dislocated his shoulder completely, and forced him down on to his knees.

Mitch smiled when he saw the man turn, not willing to go down like that. He appreciated those who mirrored his relentless nature. The man picked up a large shard of glass from the floor next to him, blood gushing from his fleshy palm as he gripped the jagged edges, and he attempted to stab Mitch one final time. Mitch grabbed the man's hand and pushed the shard back into his opponent's chest. The man fell to the floor and began to bleed out.

Mitch turned when he heard the front door. He lurched for the assault rifle on the floor, but stopped from firing when he saw you enter the front door to the suite, clearing the room with your gun trained up, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"You okay, M?" You asked as you checked the corners of the large hotel apartment, making sure that there were no living stragglers besides who was hiding in the bedroom.

Mitch dropped the AK-74 to the ground, and approached one of the lifeless henchman, laying in a pool of his own blood. He pulled the Beretta 9mm from the man’s holster and checked the magazine, finding it completely full. Mitch looked up at you and clocked the blood dripping from your wounded left arm. "I'm okay. Are you?" He nodded to your gunshot wound, and you nodded back.

"Sharif?" As you asked about if Hamdi Sharif had been eliminated or not, the man in black, who had quietly crawled behind the couch to grab the gun that Mitch had left on the floor, had stood up behind the couch, unjammed the gun and was prepared to kill the two assassins. You saw it happening and emptied seven consecutive shots into his person, causing him to fall backwards with such force that he broke the large glass window behind him, and fell out of the apartment building and down seven stories to his final death.

Mitch glanced over at you, and smirked. You were the quickest shot he'd ever seen, and you rarely, if ever, missed. He truly owed you his life in that moment. "Sharif is about to be taken care of." Mitch finally answered your question and approached the door to the bedroom.

You followed him, your Glock drawn to the ground, only gripped by your right hand, as your left hand was too slippery from the blood dripping down your fingers. Mitch kicked open the wooden door and saw the man who had supplied the weapon that killed Katrina cowering on the foot of his bed, unarmed and helpless. The woman in the closet startled you and you shot her, a clean entry and exit, straight through her heart. She dropped the ground, and Sharif whimpered.

"Where's the plutonium?" You demanded to know.

"I sold it. It's gone. He took it." Sharif offered up quickly.

You glanced at Mitch and shook your head. Mitch understood. He stepped forward, trained his gun on Sharif's forehead, waited for a half a second to savor the fear in his eyes, and then pulled the trigger twice. Sharif dropped backwards onto the bed, the life already gone from his body.

Twenty-Six <- -> Twenty-Eight

Come talk to me about HOW FUCKING DOPE THIS CHAPTER WAS.

*not even humble about it.* (cause i predicted the bar because i am so raven)

@chivesoup @confidentrose @alexhmak @dontstopxx @iloveteenwolf24 @surpeme-bean @snek-shit @kalista-rankins @parislight @cleverassbutt @damndaphneoh @mgpizza2001 @chionophilic-nefelibata @ninja-stiles @sarcasticallystilinski @teenage-dirtbagbaby @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @alizaobrien @twsmuts @rrrennerrr @sorrynotsorrylovesome @lovelydob @iknowisoundcrazy @5secsxofamnesia @vogue-sweetie @dylrider @ivette29 @therealmrshale @twentyone-souls @sunshineystilinski @snicketyssnake @xsnak-3x @eccentricxem @inkedaztec @awkwarddly @lightbreaksthrough @maddie110201 @hattyohatt @rhyxn @amethystmerm4id @completebandgeek @red-wine-mendes @katieevans371 @girlwiththerubyslippers @susybird @theneverendingracetrack @sumcp @snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales @runs-with-sciss0rs @ssweet-empowerment @ellie-bee242 @hirafth @dailyburritos @mieczzyslaw @im-very-odd33 @anonimereader06 @itsamberh @sp00der-m00n @lolaversuslipstick @imagunative @stilinski-lover-24 @xmadwonderland @shannonwardski @nocturnalzeal

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eyesonworldcultures · 4 years ago

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More of The World’s Strangest Natural Wonders

Legend has it that the Asbyrgi Canyon in northern Iceland was created when the hoof of a Norse god’s horse touched the earth, slicing through 300-foot-tall cliffs and flattening an area just over two miles long and more than a half mile wide. The likelier scientific explanation is that two periods of glacial flooding carved the canyon between 3,000 and 10,000 years ago. But standing atop the cliffs, with the green carpet of the horseshoe-shaped canyon spread before you, it’s fun to imagine otherwise.

Lake Retba, Senegal

It looks as if someone poured a giant bottle of Pepto-Bismol into Lake Retba—that’s how deeply pink these waters are. The color is actually caused by a particular kind of algae called Dunaliella salina that produces a pigment. The salt content is extremely high, reaching 40 percent in some spots and allowing the algae to thrive (and swimmers to float effortlessly on the surface of the 10-foot-deep lake). Blinding white piles of salt line the shores, and locals work several hours a day harvesting salt from the bright pink water.

Marble Caves of Chile

Six thousand years of wave erosion created the undulating patterns that give these caves their marbleized effect, enhanced by the reflection of the blue and green water of Carrera Lake, near Chile’s border with Argentina. Although the area is threatened by a plan to build a dam nearby, for now, visitors can kayak throughout the caves on days when the waters are calm.

Travertine Pools

Pamukkale, Turkey

People have sought the reputed healing effects of bathing here for thousands of years. The water that flows from 17 subterranean hot springs into the pools has an extremely high concentration of calcium carbonate, which forms soft deposits when it hits the surface. Those viscous white deposits harden over time until the springs resemble a fountain made of chalk or, as indicated by the poetic translation of Pamukkale, a “cotton castle” visible from more than 10 miles away.

Moeraki Boulders, New Zealand

The spherical stones that line New Zealand’s Moeraki Beach reach up to seven feet in diameter and have been compared to everything from the marbles of giants to colossal dinosaur eggs to half-submerged prehistoric turtles, ready to stand up and shake off the sand at any moment. They’re actually concretions, masses of compacted sediment formed below ground more than 50 million years ago. As the sand that surrounds them erodes, they seem to rise to the surface as if pushed up from the center of the earth. The stones are also found on Bowling Ball Beach in Mendocino, CA, as well as elsewhere in the U.S. and Canada and Russia.

Caño Cristales River, Colombia

Folks make the journey into central Colombia’s Serranéa de la Macarena national park to see why Caño Cristales has inspired nicknames like the River of Five Colors, the Liquid Rainbow, and even the Most Beautiful River in the World. It’s important to get the timing right: when the water reaches the perfect levels (usually between July and December), it becomes a kaleidoscope of pink, green, blue, and yellow as a plant called the Macarenia clavigera, which lives on the river floor, gets the sun it needs to bloom into an explosion of colors.

The Eye of the Sahara (Richat Structure; Mauritania

This enormous depression, circular in shape and stretching 25 miles wide, is like a bull’s-eye mark in the middle of an otherwise flat and featureless area of Mauritania desert. Visible from space, it has been a landmark for astronauts since the earliest missions. The Eye isn’t the result of any target practice by aliens; rather, it formed as winds eroded the different layers of sediment, quartzite, and other rocks at varying depths.

Spotted Lake, British Columbia

It looks almost as if you could play Twister on Spotted Lake near Osoyoos, less than a mile from the Washington State border. Each summer, most of the water in this mineral-rich lake evaporates, leaving behind large concentrations of salt, titanium, calcium, sulfates, and other minerals that form a polka-dot pattern in shades of green, yellow, and brown circles of varying size. The lake is a sacred site to the First Nations of the Okanagan Valley, and the land on which it sits is private property owned by the Indian Affairs Department. You won’t actually be able to get up close to the lake, but you can get a good look from the nearby road.

The Stone Forest (Shilin; China)

Many of the trees within the forest in China’s remote Yunnan Province are rock hard, literally. The area, which spans nearly 200 square miles, was underwater 270 million years ago, and the sea floor was covered with limestone sediment. Gradually, the seabed rose and the water dried up. As rain and wind eroded the weaker rock, the stronger limestone spires began to take shape. Now they rise skyward, surrounded by leafy trees.

Blood Falls, Antarctica

A shockingly macabre shade of what looks like blood cascades down the pale face of Taylor Glacier. When scientists first discovered these falls in the McMurdo Dry Valleys in 1911, they thought algae colored the dark red water that spewed from a crack in the glacier. It turns out the hue comes from high iron levels in the falls’ source, a pool buried 1,300 feet below the ice. In a sinister twist, the landscape is so arid that when seals and penguins wander inland and get lost, they never decompose; their remains are left strewn about.

Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland

One of Northern Ireland’s most popular tourist attractions, Giant’s Causeway earned its name from the 40,000 basalt columns that interlock to form what looks like a walkway fit for a colossus. The stones, mostly hexagonal in shape, formed 60 million years ago when underground lava flows cooled into formations as tall as 39 feet high and 18 inches in diameter. It was comparatively recently—about 15,000 years ago—that the soil around the seaside stones eroded and they became visible above ground.

The Waves

Coyote Buttes

Arizona & Utah

Wind and rain have worked their magic, eroding lines that swoop and swirl across the sandstone formation. The result, which resembles a cresting wave, is one of the most photographed—if not easy to reach—spots in the American West. A permit is required to make the unmarked hike to the Wave, and only 20 are given out daily. It’s almost easier to make the journey to southwest Australia to see the Wave’s down under counterpart, Wave Rock.

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 8 years ago

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Cover You In Oil, pt3

Word Count: 6113 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander

Central Park had a totally different feel than the boardwalk at home, Sally reflected as she wove and dodged through foot traffic on her morning run. There were more people, the air was cooler, and the feel of her feet on the paved path was so very different than the wooden boardwalk that stretched across the beachfront in front of her home. The sweat felt the same though.

Sally had awakened tense and irritable. She’d tossed and turned all night long, barely sleeping. She knew she’d been kept awake by the reality of her soulmate being just a few floors away, knowing she existed. She had felt the inexplicable pull to him since he’d first uttered his words to her, two days ago. The draw to be near him was like a weight on her chest. While trying to swim. Every time she denied the urge to go to him, she felt as though she might sink under the waves and drown.

“Drama much, Manners? Jesus,” she stopped to take a few wheezing breaths and shook her head, embarrassed by the exaggerated metaphors whirling around in her head. She wondered if Stark – Tony, she corrected herself – was feeling the same way. She took a deep breath and started running again, pushing herself until her brain let go of the miasma of worry about Tony Stark, and just thought about making it to the end of the run.

She took a long, hot shower after her run, allowing the water to beat down on her sore muscles until she was fully relaxed. She toweled off in the bathroom, wiping her arm across the steamy mirror to look at herself, to try to see the way Tony had described her. The spray of freckles across her nose made her look like a little girl, she thought. And her eyes were a pale blue that wasn’t anything special, framed by eyelashes so blonde you could hardly see them. She dropped the towel and stared hard at her reflection. She was pear-shaped. Not wildly so, but she was broad through the thighs and ass. Part of that was the runner’s physique. Her breasts were smaller than she would have liked. They weren’t tiny, but they weren’t in proportion to her hips, which made it awkward fitting dresses and buying bathing suits. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant body, and Sally knew that. She wasn’t rabid about fitness like most of the women she’d encountered since she’d moved to California, but she was active, loving to be outside in the sun. But being in a culture of women who were obsessed with their personal brand because it was part of their work made her question her own body. She wrapped her towel around herself and padded across the suite to her room to get dressed before riding the elevator to the garage.

The bay beside the Challenger was filled with another shipment of parts and pieces that Sally had ordered. She quickly reconciled the pick slip against her inventory before climbing back under the chassis. She quickly inspected the chassis for structural weaknesses; marking any spots she felt needed reinforcement or repair.

Welding was one of Sally’s favourite things about working on cars because you could actually watch the car become stronger. It was like an allegory for human relationships. Just as a friend could shore up your weaknesses, and make you stronger, reinforcing the frame of a vehicle could give the car new life. It wasn’t a completely perfect metaphor, but it was something Sally often found herself considering when she was welding new into old. The arc of the torch sputtered and threw a spray of sparks all around her as she worked. When her reinforcements were complete, she took the grinder to the chassis and smoothed everything out, taking the time to buff off the rust as well, and give it a final inspection. It looked good. She washed up and grabbed from her iPad to note her progress, but couldn’t find it.

“Fuck! JARVIS?” Sally looked up at the ceiling, annoyed.

“Yes, Ms. Manners?” She wasn’t sure if she found the masculine British accent creepy or soothing. With her iPad missing, she was leaning towards creepy.

“My iPad?” She asked.

“Mr. Stark retrieved it this morning to clone to your new StarkPad,” JARVIS almost sounded apologetic.

“Can you figure out a way to get it back to me?” She asked. “It has all my schematics on it. I don’t know that there’s an app for that in StarkPadLand.” She sighed heavily and boosted herself up onto the tool bench.

“I will have it returned to you within the next fifteen minutes,” JARVIS promised. Sally hopped down and decided to forage for something to drink.

“No hurry, provided you tell me where I can get a cup of coffee?” She asked.

“There is a commissary for SI staff on the ground floor, but Mr. Barton reports that the coffee there is like horse urine mixed with cat emesis. There’s a Starbucks in the lobby on the main floor. There is a communal kitchen for residents of the tower on level 63, where you will find a coffee maker and food. There is currently a fresh pot of coffee brewing,” JARVIS listed.

“Level 63 it is then,” Sally nodded and headed toward the elevator. Sally leaned against the back wall of the elevator and tapped her foot to the muzak, not really paying attention as the floors passed by on the illuminated sign. She was midway through the elevator trip when she realized it was hard rock muzak and giggled. The duration of the short ride was spent trying to figure out what was playing. She gave up when the doors opened. “JARVIS, what was playing?”

“AC/DC, Ms. Manners.” Sally strode off the elevator directly toward the coffee maker in the kitchen. The glass-fronted cabinet above the coffee maker held a variety of coffee cups, some of them looking better worn than others. Residents obviously had favourite cups. She flipped through them, determined to find one that did not show signs of frequent use, but stopped at the one that she assumed must be Tony’s, based on the ‘because fuck you, I own the company’ etched across is. She filled the cup nearly to the brim and then rummaged around until she found a banana in the fruit dish. She sat at the table, and flipped through her email, thanking whatever deities she could think of that she still had a grip on her iPhone.

While she chewed her banana and waited for her coffee to reach a drinkable temperature, she responded to an inquiry about work overseas. She’d been receiving increasing numbers of inquiries about working on cars in Europe for the past six months or so. She was kind of interested, as the main inquiry was coming from a collector in Latveria, and Latveria had closed borders. It would be interesting to see a place that so few outsiders had seen. She was startled out of her contemplation by the heavy slap of her iPad on the table in front of her. She looked up and smiled at Clint.

“So you’re the sneaky one?” Sally asked.

“Actually Nat’s much better at sneaky. I just happened to see it first. Vested interest,” he shrugged. “How’s my baby this morning?”

Sally opened her schematics and scrolled through to her action list. She’d developed the app with the help of a neighbour who was a computer programmer, and as she marked tasks complete, it generated new tasks based on an algorithm from previous projects. She cleared the task list, and waited as it repopulated with another list.

“Today I start the engine rebuild, but first follow-up with the machine shop. I’m waiting on the head gaskets right now. I like having everything on hand before I start.” She read through the list and nodded to herself. “Just dirty work today mostly. Not a lot of fun. Once I have the engine rebuilt, we’ll sit down and talk about the interior. I’ve had a great upholsterer recommended and I should have samples today for you to look over.” She took a long pull off her coffee. It was strong and rich, and the smell made her close her eyes and just enjoy.

“You probably only have about twenty minutes before Tony realizes that iPad is missing, Sally,” Clint warned her.

“My estimate puts it at seven minutes, thirty-four point six seconds,” JARVIS commented. Sally snapped the cover closed on the device and picked it and her coffee up.

“That’s my cue to get back to work then,” Sally commented as she headed back toward the elevator. Back at the car, she flipped through the schematics for the engine and started sorting her parts. She noticed when Tony arrived this time, but chose to keep working instead of stopping and waiting on him to approach her.

“I have your StarkPad here,” he started. Sally turned, her eyebrow raised.

“Does it have my proprietary apps on it? Because I don’t recall agreeing to allowing this app on more than the iOS platform,” Sally challenged him, meeting his gaze.

“I was in the process of rebuilding your app when you stole your iPad –“

“I can’t steal what already belongs to me, Tony.” Sally rolled her eyes. She slapped her hand down on top of the iPad when Tony moved to take it again. “Dude, I need it. I live and die by my app. I appreciate the amusing and weirdly possessive gesture, but I need my iPad for work.”

Tony sighed and leaned against the tool bench. “Let me work on the app at night then? When you aren’t working on the car?”

“I thought nighttime was for courtship, Tony?” Sally teased. “It should also be for homework. You know nothing about me.”

“I know more than you realize.” Tony was a little peevish in his response. “You buy an alarming amount of things online.”

“Analyzing my online purchases isn’t going to help you. I buy a lot of stuff for work online!” Sally laughed.

“I don’t think your armour bra was for work. Or the size 8 Brooks running shoes. Is it weird I find your running gear purchasing more sexy than your lingerie purchases?” He deadpanned.

“Not really, since I don’t buy lingerie online,” Sally retorted. “My armour bra is about as close as it gets. It’s not really sexy though, unless you’re into compressed and flattened and not going to move an inch.”

“Well, can we assume that nighttime is for courtship, homework and adapting your app for use on the StarkPad?” Tony conceded. He’d given in too easily, Sally realized, but she went with it anyhow.

“Sure.” She turned back to the engine. Tony leaned against the workbench and watched as she puzzled through assembling part of the transmission.

“Is that my coffee cup?” He suddenly asked, spying the coffee cup beside Sally.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Sally raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see a ‘hands off, property of Tony Stark’ label on it.”

“Oh god, are we already into the what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine shit?” Tony laughed. Sally smirked and shook her head.

“Go away. You’re distracting me,” she demanded. Tony stuck out his tongue and pushed forward, taking a step toward her. He brushed her ponytail over her shoulder and pressed his lips against her neck.

“Who is distracting?” He asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I have things I need to be working on, but there’s this spot right here on your shoulder that just looks neglected.”

“It does, does it?” Sally bit back a snort of amusement. Tony’s lips pressed against the nape of her neck again and she shivered involuntarily. She wriggled out of his reach, pushing off the stool she was sitting on and leveling a glare at Tony. “I’m busy, dude. If you want to do this courtship thi-“ She was interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hello, this is Sally.”

As she turned away from Tony, her brow furrowed. “What? What do you mean?” She paused and then laughed. “Oh for sure! Yeah, I’ll head over this afternoon,” she paused and nodded. “No, of course not, I can’t spend all my time out here cooped up in a garage. I’ll see you this afternoon.” She disconnected the call, and turned back to Tony.

“So, where are we going?” Tony asked. Sally sighed.

“I need to go to the machine shop about some of the parts,” Sally said. “I don’t know where you were planning on going.”

“How many times have you been to New York?” Tony countered.

“Some,” Sally shrugged. It was very few, and she’d mostly just be there for shows.

“So you totally know your way around?” He challenged.

“Yes?” She cringed. He was calling her bluff and it was effective.

“Do you want me to give you a lift? I can stay in the car, not make a scene,” he offered. Sally sighed again and bit her lip.

“Okay. But no distracting anyone. Not me, not the guys, no one,” she bargained. He nodded. “Now fuck off, I have work to do.”

Tony gasped and then laughed. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Play your cards right, I might even kiss you with it,” Sally winked. “Now go!”

“I’m taking my coffee cup,” Tony leaned over to grab the mug.

“Touch it and I will kill you. Billionaire, Avenger, whatever. You’ll make a pretty corpse,” she threatened. Tony’s hands shot up and he backed away. When he was out of arm’s reach, he smirked.

“Not sure whether I’m turned on or terrified. That’s almost a turn on all by itself,” he remarked. Sally threw a dirty rag at him, and he laughed and hustled away from the car toward the front of the garage.

The machine shop was everything Sally loved about restoration. There was a calendar from the seventies with a pin-up sprawled across the hood of a corvette on the wall, and oil stains on the floor. In the back, in a walled in room, was the cleanest machining set-up she’d seen in years. A balding guy, not much taller than Tony, approached, rubbing his hands on a dirty, oil-stained rag. He had a layer of stubble on his chin and his coveralls were in the same filthy, torn condition that Sally’s were back home in California.

“Sally? That’s quite the car you brought,” the guy nodded toward the open garage bay, where Tony had parked his Audi R8. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, playing with his phone.

“Nothing like the Challenger I’m restoring, Paul. You should see it,” Sally laughed. “I’m not the best at directions, so I brought a local.”

“A local! Sweetheart, everyone knows Tony Stark,” Paul laughed.

“Well, he insisted,” Sally shrugged. “Anyhow, the head gaskets?” She redirected the conversation.

“Yeah, we fabbed them off the originals you sent us, but they don’t line up right. I’m going to redo them, and will have them to you this evening. I’ll drop them off for you myself. But I also wanted to give you this,” Paul presented her with a new steering wheel. “We heard the car was for the Hawkeye. He’s given a lot back to the community.”

The steering wheel was super cool, Sally thought. The three spokes coming off the centre hub were stylized arrows. The steel had been heat tempered until it had turned purple, and the wheel itself was wrapped in black leather with purple piping.

“Wow,” Sally breathed. “This is fabulous.”

“Barton’s good people, Sally,” Paul explained. “Make that car fabulous. Anything you need, you let me know.”

“Thanks Paul,” Sally nodded. “I’ll be in touch.” She offered his hand and appreciated the firm handshake he gave. She headed back to the car and slid into the passenger seat, carefully settling the gift in her lap.

“That’s for Legolas?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, I guess he lives around here somewhere?” Sally shrugged.

“Right,” Tony nodded, shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the garage. “Where’s your head gaskets?”

“Not ready. Paul said they’d be ready this afternoon, so I either work on the car tonight or I’m a day delayed,” Sally hedged. She was nervous about this notion of courtship that Tony had in his mind. There was too much touching already, and they’d only been to dinner once. Tony turned left out onto the main road they’d come from Midtown on.

“Stay on an extra day,” he shrugged. “I guess that gives us this afternoon?”

“Well, I could be working on other stuff. I should be making Clint choose from upholstery samples for his interior.” Sally didn’t recognize the buildings they were passing, and realized Tony had turned away from Midtown. “Where are we going?”

“God’s a skeeball addict,” Tony quipped. The quote seemed familiar, and Sally wrinkled her nose trying to recall where she’d heard it. “Coffee?”

“God, yes,” she breathed, distracted. Tony pulled into a parking lot and disappeared inside a Starbucks, returning a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. One of them said ‘Iron Man’ on the side of it. The other said ‘Friend’. Sally raised an eyebrow and took the offered cup. “Friend?”

“I’m not about to announce in a Starbucks that I’ve met my soulmate. Media frenzy. And then suddenly, you’re in danger. Because hi, Iron Man.” Tony turned back onto the street and continued away from Midtown.

“You still haven’t answered me,” Sally commented, inhaling the aroma of her coffee. It was strong and just the scent alone was enough to push back the niggling headache that was threatening her. She’d only had one cup of coffee since getting up. She was reasonably sure her circulatory system was more caffeine than blood at this point in her life. One cup just no longer cut it.

“Can nothing be a surprise to you?” Tony asked, his tone light. “It might be weird if you’re a huge control freak. Because I am also a huge control freak. In my experience, one control freak is enough in a relationship, and technically I’m older, so I came into that character flaw first.” Tony never looked away from the road as he spoke, but the corner of his mouth tilted up just enough that Sally understood he was half-teasing.

“So what you’re saying is that I should just let you kidnap me to god-knows-where because you’re an old man and God loves skeeba-“ Sally trailed off. “Are you seriously taking me to Coney Island?”

“I’m not sure if you can tell that I am relieved that you figured that out on your own. I don’t know if I could have been with a person who doesn’t know Dogma.” Tony’s relief appeared genuine.

“It was a great movie,” Sally shrugged. “I have a question. Since we’re on this whole getting to know you thing.”

“Shoot.”

“You said something about being mostly attracted to women when I first spoke to you?” Sally knew it wasn’t a question, but she posed it as one anyhow.

“You avoided me for over twenty years. My guess is because you followed gossip mostly.” Tony’s voice took on a very serious tone. “There wasn’t a whole lot of inaccuracies in the gossip, if I’m completely honest with you. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I just –“

“You’ve known ever since your mark showed up that you would be with a man. My mark made me think I would wind up with one too. It was pretty difficult,” he sighed deeply before continuing, “it was really difficult to reconcile that I really prefer women. Like my soulmark was some sort of cosmic joke, destined to be with a man, but preferring the company of women.”

“But you can’t just choose to prefer one or the other, Tony. It’s hardwired into your brain,” Sally argued.

“I know. I don’t dislike men. I just prefer women. I figured whoever he was; he was going to be amazing. So I stayed open to the possibility.” They were stopped at a red light, and he turned to look at her. Sally met his gaze.

“You’re a surprising man, Tony Stark,” Sally admitted. She was seeing him in a different light, despite his admission that he was everything she’d ever read about him. He seemed like all those things, but human too. And vulnerable. Because humanity is vulnerable.

“Are you okay with that?” Tony asked. “That I’m bi?”

“Yes.” Sally knew better than to offer a lighthearted comment or retort. He didn’t know her well enough to know how she would react and he was showing a different kind of bravery than was required to wear the Iron Man suit. “Besides,” she added, to lighten the mood, “You’re mine now, so what does it matter?”

“Have you ever?” He trailed off, looking back at the road when the light changed.

“No. Like you said, I grew up knowing I would end up with a man. Even if I had been interested elsewhere, what would the point have been? There was nothing to force me to remain open-minded,” Sally shook her head.

“Wait, did you just say I’m yours now?” Tony asked, turning his head to look at her again. Sally could feel her cheeks flushing, and tried to avoid looking back at him, but even from the corner of her eye, she should see the self-satisfied smirk on his face. She groaned inwardly. He was going to be completely impossible as a result.

“Shut up or I’ll take it back,” she grumbled.

Coney Island was exactly as she expected it be, while at the same time being completely different. When she said as much to Tony, he laughed at her.

“Let me guess,” he chuckled. “Just as cheesy as you expected, but a lot cleaner?”

“Less cheesy I think?” Sally pondered. “I don’t know. I was definitely expecting cheesy and it is. But there’s something about it. Is it because it’s such a landmark? I grew up hearing about Coney Island. Pops had shipped out from New York for the war, and he spent a couple weeks here before he left. He raved about it. And then, when I was a kid and we were here, Pops wouldn’t take us near it, it was so rundown and sketchy. I guess I was just expecting some of what Pops saw that saddened him.”

“Your Pops had a pretty big influence on your life, it seems,” Tony commented.

“Yeah. Mom and Dad were one of those couples that were so in love they didn’t really see the rest of the world around them. Don’t get me wrong, they loved me and I was the centre of their universe completely. But come summer time, I would head to stay with Nan and Pops for a couple of months, while Mom and Dad vacationed together. When Dad followed Mom back to Seattle, I think they missed him. And Nan and Pops didn’t get much chance to come visit us. Pops was always busy running the farm. So I would go stay with them for the summer, and get spoiled rotten, and Mom and Dad would get a year’s worth of date nights in about six weeks time,” Sally explained. “How about you?”

“My Dad was already old when I was born. If he’d had parents to ship me to, I’m sure he would have.” Tony’s jaw went tight, and Sally sensed there was more to that story. “Jarvis was more like a parent for much of my childhood.”

“JARVIS your AI?” Sally gaped.

“No, Jarvis was the butler,” Tony laughed. “I thought you’d done your homework on me?”

“Just on your manwhore ways,” Sally quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t know.”

“Hot dog?” He stopped walking in front of Nathan’s, changing the topic completely. Sally looked up at the sign and back to Tony. He was clearly finished talking about his Dad, and as much as Sally thought he probably needed years of therapy to untangle the complexity of what hadn’t been said about Howard Stark in those few words, she knew she wasn’t getting anything else out of him while they were out.

“Uh, yeah.” She allowed him to thread his fingers between hers and drag her toward the restaurant. He ordered while Sally took in the restaurant around her. She turned around and looked around. Tony distracted her woolgathering by waving the hot dog under her nose and tilting his head toward one of the empty tables outside. She smirked and followed, sitting down at one of the round cement tables. Tony sat beside her and handed the dog to her.

“Are you a puker?” He asked, dropping his hand on the hot dog before she could pick it up. Sally furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“Not as a general rule,” she narrowed her eyes, and lifted his hand off her hot dog. Before he could react, she lifted it and took a bite. It was delicious. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”

“So if I were to take you on the roller coaster, I couldn’t get a hot dog coating?” Tony asked between bites of his hot dog.

“Dude, I repair cars for a living. At some point, do you think I might have driven one really really fast?” She teased. “I’m good.”

Tony smirked at her and watched her finish her hot dog in silence. It made her a little self-conscious, but she wasn’t oblivious to the wonder in his gaze either. It made her feel special.

“You have some mustard on your face,” he gestured vaguely to her left side. She flushed a little, and wiped her face with a napkin, raising her eyebrows in question as she wadded the napkin up in her fist. He nodded, but shifted his weight so that their hips were pressed against each other on the cement bench. His face drew close to hers and Sally forced herself to breath and not move when he got so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. She closed her eyes, not quite sure what to anticipate. His mustache brushed against her cheek, and then she felt his tongue flick across the edge of her lip. She sucked in her breath through her nose and opened her eyes.

“There was a tiny bit left,” Tony explained. Sally’s heart crashed in her chest, waiting for more, but Tony just leaned away and pushed up from the bench with a cocky, self-assure smirk.

“You’re an asshole,” she huffed, collecting her garbage and turning away from him toward the garbage can. She could hear his laugh as she flounced away, and as she fought with the dirty flap on the garbage can lid, trying to avoid touching it, his arms slipped around her waist, and he dropped a kiss on the side of her neck.

“I am. But I need you to want me,” he murmured. Sally felt her eyes fill with tears and she blinked them back quickly. He wanted her to want him, not pity him. She finally managed to get the grubby flap to swing open without her hand touching it, and dropped her garbage. She turned back to face Tony.

“And licking the mustard off me is the way to do that?” She teased. Tony shrugged and dropped his arm over her shoulder.

“You don’t seem like the kind of woman who would be impressed with me buying you a corporation or small country, so I thought I’d start small,” he quipped back. Sally let out a warm laugh.

“No, I don’t find the thought of being a CEO or a despot particularly appealing.” She snaked her arm around his back and looped a finger through his belt loop as they walked.

“See? We have a lot in common. I don’t like those things either.” His laughed was nice, Sally thought.

“Didn’t you say something about a roller coaster?” Sally changed the subject. Tony nodded ahead of them.

“Just through there, Ms. Manners,” he winked. Sally looked up, and sure enough, just across the street, beyond the roofs of the midway games and other rides, rose the imposing latticework of the Cyclone.

“You’re sure you won’t puke? These shoes were –“

“Shut up and get in the car, Tony,” Sally gave him a none-to-gentle shove. “Are you sure you won’t?”

“Iron Man. I don’t puke the suit, why would I puke on this?” He asked as he stepped into the car and sat. Sally slipped into the seat beside him. The attendant dropped the bar across their lap and Tony placed his arm around her shoulder.

“I’m just saying, I’m currently wearing the nicest clothes I brought with me, so if you decide to barf on me, you’re on the hook for casual wear,” Sally taunted.

“I think I can hook you up,” he laughed as the train pulled toward the first peak. Sally smiled back at him and allowed the roller coaster to take them away. She shrieked, and laughed, and clung to Tony when she needed to. It was the most relaxed she’d been around him since they met, which she found ironic considering how nerve wracking the ride was. But less than two minutes later, as they were getting off the ride, she almost felt like she knew him better.

“Your legs aren’t even wobbly?” He asked, incredulous. Sally laughed.

“That was awesome!” She exclaimed. She pulled him against her and pressed an adrenaline fueled kiss against his lips. His arms wrapped around her and he responded, teasing her lips with his tongue, reaching up and dragging his hand through her hair. She pulled away and looked away, cheeks flushing again. “I feel like a teen girl with a crush when I’m around you, Tony. One minute I want to have my hands all over you, the next I wish you wouldn’t ever notice me.”

“Well, I’ve noticed you, Sally, there’s no changing that.” His words were low, and over the crowd, Sally could barely hear them. He traced his fingers down her arm until they were tangled with her own hand again and led her toward the boardwalk and beach. “Clint said something about you surfing?”

“He assumed I surf,” Sally laughed.

“So do you?” Tony pressed.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. Half the reason she’d bought the house she’d chosen was because of the proximity to the ocean and the great waves.

“You ever stepped into the Atlantic?” He asked, stopping where the wooden boardwalk met the sand. He stepped out of his shoes and let go of her hand to pull off his socks. Sally shook her head.

“I’ve never had time,” she admitted, watching as he rolled up his jeans to mid-calf. He looked at her expectantly.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Lose the shoes, and you’re already set to wade in.” He gestured at her sneakers and cut-offs.

“Is it cold?” She asked as she stepped on the heel of her sneaker to pull her foot out.

“Colder than you’ll be used to, but it’s not cold.”

“Well, that’s a non-answer,” Sally laughed. She picked her shoes up and stepped onto the sand. It was fine, and felt good squishing between her toes. The late afternoon sun had heated it up, and it was like a massage, walking down to the water. The temperature changed where the sand was wet, but Tony was right, the water wasn’t horribly cold, as it lapped up against the tips of her toes. She stepped a little deeper and glanced at Tony who was a step behind. He was holding his phone up and she was pretty sure he was taking a picture of her. She smiled and shook her head.

“What?” He asked.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” She asked.

“I might have,” he admitted and slipped the phone back into his jeans. She took a few more steps until the water was just above her ankles. Tony followed her, stepping close behind her, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You’re a lot touchier than I would have guessed,” Sally commented. Tony chuckled into her ear.

“I’ve never been a big fan, actually. This is new,” he admitted. “My soulmark became legible when I was eleven. If my preliminary research is correct, you were a year old. Thirty-four years, Sally. My brain is probably trying to make up for lost time.”

“I’m sorry,” Sally relaxed into his arms, laying her hands on top of his. “Maybe I should have come looking for you.”

“It’s only been seven years that your mark would have made any sense, Sally.” She felt him shrug against her back. “Besides, I probably would have ruined everything.”

“Maybe. You might still ruin everything,” she teased. Tony grew very still behind her.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make us work, Sally.” His breath was warm against her neck. Sally swallowed thickly. She blinked and took a deep breath.

“Anything?” Sally asked. She felt him nod against her shoulder and smirked, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She stepped her foot between his legs and before he could figure out what she was up to, knocked him off balance and threw him over her shoulder into the cold ocean water with a triumphant laugh. He came up sputtering and swearing, and Sally dodged out of his reach until he regained his footing. He charged through the water at her, determination steeling his gaze and Sally shrieked with laughter, dodging just out of reach. She turned sharply back toward the water just as he dove toward her, and he just barely caught her foot as he splashed back into the surf. Sally tried to shake her foot free, but lost her balance and toppled into the shallows, face first. She pushed out of the water, shaking with laughter, and Tony crawled toward her through the gentle lapping waves of the tide coming in. His smile was predatory and Sally scuttled backward like a crab, trying to get away.

“Hey, fair is fair, princess,” Tony growled and reached for her foot again. She laughed and scrambled across the foam and sand.

“No, I’m already in the water, Tony. You’ve already got your revenge!” Sally shrieked and tried to get away, but Tony was just too fast, and pressed her into the shallows. She didn’t wind up under water; she’d made it to where the water was barely covering her ears. Tony crawled up the length of her body, pinning her with his own. When his face was hovering over hers, he dipped down to kiss her again. A sudden wave crashed over them, and they both came up sputtering and laughing.

“You’re very damp, Sally,” Tony pushed himself to his feet, and then pulled Sally to her feet. She laughed and ran her hands through his hair.

“You look like a drowned rat, Tony,” she laughed. “Oh god, your car! We’re going to wreck the interior!” Tony smirked and shook his head.

“I tossed a couple towels in the trunk this morning. It’ll be fine,” he said.

“You anticipated me chucking you in the drink?” She questioned, suspiciously.

“I’d actually hoped I’d be tossing you in first, but I knew we’d wind up wet,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

They stopped at a souvenir shop, and Tony stepped inside and came out with a t-shirt in a bag. He handed it to her and pointed at a change room. “You look cold.”

Sally took the proffered bag and went to change. She started laughing when she saw the front of the t-shirt, but dropped her wet clothes into the plastic bag and pulled the t-shirt over her head anyhow. She left her soaking panties on, but the t-shirt was long enough it came to mid-thigh. She walked back over to Tony, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh, but by the time she stood in front of him, he was howling with laughter.

“Oh, I make this look good,” Sally taunted, setting her hands on her hips. Instead of the traditional ‘I heart NY’, the t-shirt read ‘I heart IM!’ with a cartoony drawing of the Iron Man helmet in place of the dot on the bottom of the exclamation point.

Tony held her at arms length and took in the t-shirt, her long, tanned legs, and the wet waves of her hair. And he smiled.

“You do, princess. You really do.”

#avengers fanfic #tony stark x OFC

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kathydsalters31 · 4 years ago

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Your Kitty Will Cuddle Up Into These Cozy Cat Hammocks

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Updated August 31, 2020|For Cat People By Karen Anderson This

post includes associate web links. Read more here.

Does your cat crave the snuggling experience of laps and also super-squishy beds? If so, they’re likely to take to a pet cat hammock, which gives them similar sensations of being bordered by assistance. We had a good time having a look at the vast array of pet cat hammocks on the market, including lots of that come as part of feline trees and play furnishings.

If your cat will be ready to leap into something that turns a little bit, you could question. Surprisingly, many are. Some pet parents report that they placed new stand-alone hammocks near furniture or a stairs to encourage the feline to check them out. Many of the hammocks are integrated right into feline tree frameworks, so your feline can tip easily right into the hammock from an adjoining pet cat bed or grassy platform.

Selecting a Cat Hammock

Trixie hammock/Chewy As you search hammocks, take into consideration

these variables so you’ll be sure to get a hammock that fits your cat as well as your house. Room: If you have lots of room, take into consideration one of the pet cat trees that provide the hammock as one choice in addition to open and also encased beds as well as perches. Look for a hammock with a small base that has supports that can do double-duty as damaging articles if you are short on square footage. If you have minimal flooring space, take a look at window-mounted hammocks (or consider our post on

window-mounted cat beds).

Size: Check the hammock’s specifications. Numerous are developed for small-to-mid-size felines (12 extra pounds or much less). Others can manage pet cats weighing 15 extra pounds or even more jumping aboard. As well as talking leaping: Measure the elevation of the hammock. Some hammocks will certainly delight your young acrobatic feline, while others are designed for a calm elderly cat to step into.

Upkeep: Some of the window-mount hammocks are very easy to clean or clean down. Many of the put on hold hammocks can be eliminated as well as device cleaned. Scratching post sustains might wind up looking worn out before the hammock itself does.

The Most Effective Cat Hammocks

We’ve chosen a wide range of amazing cat hammocks for our list; you’re certain to find one that matches your cat’s demands for a snuggly napping location– along with your budget and also style.

This extremely ranked cat tree has all of it, including a comfortable hammock for your cat on the lower degree and also a hammock-like”lounge basket”near the top. The base is a steady 39 by 24 inches, and the tree evaluates in at 65 pounds; the framework is made of engineered timber. This will maintain your feline entertained, or provide lounge space for 2 or more felines! It’s available in dark or grey charcoal. Store on Chewy Short on area? This portable hammock includes two scraping articles as well as dangling toys to delight your feline. With a substantial 22-by-22-inch base, this nine-pound cat tree can stand up to dynamic pet cat play. This hammock gets leading

ratings from kittens to older felines, according to evaluations. It’s offered in cream color, gray, black, or cheetah print. Shop on Chewy This light-weight hammock-style feline bed attaches firmly to

your home window with 4 industrial-strength suction mugs so your cat can bask from whatever elevation you choose. The gray fleece cover for the 12-by-23-inch hammock is removable and also device washable. Need to close the curtains? This hammock bed can fold up right up against the window! Find on Chewy This easy-to-assemble cat hammock weighs

in at simply 3.5 pounds however can deal with as much as 20 extra pounds. It’s low as well as easy to gain access to, so perfect for older pet cats. To wash the relatively easy to fix cotton hammock cover, simply unclip it from the structure. Store on Chewy This tough perch– for cats or & pet dogs– has a large 17-by-22-inch hammock simply seven inches off the ground. It’s perfect for keeping your feline safely boosted from a warm or cold floor surface. The pillow-top-cushioned hammock is removable and equipment washable. Locate on Chewy This hop-in hammock is sustained by two durable sisal-wrapped scratching articles so you get the most for your room. The 10-pound framework with a small 16-by-16-inch base will certainly accommodate a mid-size feline(as much as 12 extra pounds). Shop on Chewy Designed for tiny pets in cages or cages, this soft fleece hammocksuspended by clips would

also be fantastic in a catio. The 14-by-14-inch hammock is resilient as well as machine washable. Flexible straps make it feasible to adjust the space-saving hammock to practically any type of enclosure– it can additionally be mounted under a chair or under any other appropriate surface area. Discover on Amazon Does your cat like to oversleep the sink? Currently you can allow them appreciate that very same experience– without disrupting your accessibility to running water! This Space Age-style pet cat lounge hull isn’t exactly a hammock, yet considering that it’s suspended, we’ve included it here. Suitable for pet cats approximately 15 extra pounds

, it’s only 6.5 inches high– excellent for cautious felines seeking convenience. It’s offered in black or white. Acquire on Amazon Six industrial-strength suction cups stand up this double-tier feline bed’s steel structure so your cats can romp on two levels. An entry hole in the leading hammock enables your cat to conveniently level up. Fleece covers are detachable and washable.Find on Amazon

This feline tree has one of the most spacious hammocks about, plus 2 enclosed”play houses”and one cat bed on top of the tree. This is ideal for felines that like to hang around together. This tree evaluates in at a sturdy 59 pounds and also can be found in grey or beige. Shop on Chewy This hammock-style wall-mounted wood rack can be placed at whatever level your cat favors– it’s a great method to get the pet cat off your desk! You can install numerous shelves to produce a complete cat climbing up wall surface or to accommodate several pet cats. The shelf includes both a fiber-type cover for scraping or a soft woollen cover for napping. And also it’s best for huge pet cats– it stands up to 33 pounds!

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