Iron Man looked mildly surprised. "Oh? I always thought people from the East were a bit shy about matters between men and women. But now I'm curious—let's see how you pick up a girl."
Lock took his time walking toward Natasha. The closer he got, the more unsettled she became.
He stopped in front of her, close enough for each of them to feel the other's breath. His hand slipped around her waist.
"Natasha, right? Beautiful name—and you live up to it. Meeting like this is fate. I've got a place in New York—my home. Why don't we go there, open a bottle of wine, talk about life… maybe untie a few knots?"
Before she could react, he leaned in and kissed her—a deep, lingering French kiss.
Natasha's knees softened. For a brief, disorienting moment, she felt like she'd been pulled back to some long-forgotten first night. Her body nearly melted into his arms.
Tony, Pepper Potts, and Happy all froze in shock.
Wait—this was how he picked up women? No lead-in, no smooth buildup, just… straight in?
Even Tony—Mr. Billionaire Playboy himself—wouldn't dare try something that forward without expecting a slap.
But looking at Natasha's reaction… she wasn't pushing him away. She seemed to be falling into it. Tony found himself thinking, Hmm… maybe I should try that sometime.
When the kiss finally broke, Natasha tried to pull back. But Lock's arm was unyielding; her quick punches to his chest barely registered to him—and from the outside, it looked more like playful swats than resistance.
She glanced around nervously and whispered, "Let go. They're watching."
Lock chuckled. "They're all friends. No need to hide. Here—this is the key to my place. You're welcome to move in anytime."
He pressed a key into her hand.
Natasha hesitated. Was he serious? Was this an invitation to her home? The thought caught her off guard. The idea of settling down with a man like this… Well, she'd never have to worry about enemies again. Anyone stupid enough to show up would regret it.
The mental image made her smile—a subtle curve of her lips that was far more dangerous than anything else in the room.
Tony and Happy were floored. She'd accepted? Just like that?
Had Lock used some sort of hypnotic trick? Neither of them had noticed.
Lock finally let her go. He knew not to push too far too quickly—sometimes giving someone space was the best way to let them adjust.
Tony, distracted, scribbled his signature on the paperwork in front of him without really reading it. Natasha gathered the documents and quickly made her exit.
Happy sidled up to Lock, his earlier annoyance gone. "Lock, you were too fast—I didn't even catch it. Tonight, my treat at the bar. You teach me two moves like that."
Tony chimed in, "I've got a racing event in Europe next week. Come with me. I've always been a little unsure about European women. Maybe I'm not famous enough over there."
Lock just laughed and let them draw their conclusions. But in the back of his mind, Tony's mention of Europe meant one thing—Iron Man 2's plotline was beginning.
Three days later, a high-profile racing gala was underway in a small European country.
Pepper Potts arrived with Natasha at her side. Whether intentionally or not, Pepper kept subtly steering Natasha toward Lock.
He certainly didn't mind.
By day, the banquet hall glittered with dignitaries, business moguls, and the hum of political conversation. Tony and Pepper moved through the crowd, shaking hands and making connections.
Happy, meanwhile, had resigned himself to a corner table, nursing a drink and watching two couples feed him enough "public displays of affection" to last a lifetime.
"Hey! Tony Stark, the legendary Iron Man. I thought you'd be too busy to attend this little gathering."
The voice belonged to Justin Hammer, CEO of Hammer Industries—Stark's longtime rival in the weapons business. Hammer had been losing out on Defense Department contracts for years thanks to Stark's superior tech, and the grudge ran deep.
They'd even clashed politically, Hammer cozying up to corrupt officials to try to force Stark to hand over his suit technology. The animosity was well established.
"Didn't plan to come," Tony replied casually, "but I heard you'd be here. Thought I'd show up so you wouldn't think I was afraid of you."
Hammer's jaw tightened. He was just about to trade insults when he spotted Natasha standing with Lock. His eyes lit up.
"And who might this be?" he asked.
"Employee of my company," Tony said. "She's here with her boyfriend."
Hammer's eyebrows went up. "Boyfriend? You don't mean this gentleman, do you? No offense, but… how could such a beautiful woman choose an Oriental?"
His tone carried the faintest smirk of condescension.
Lock's expression stayed neutral. "Lock. That's the name."
"And your line of work?"
"Currently unemployed. Tony here's been… taking care of me."
That earned an amused glance from Tony, Pepper, and Natasha. They all knew how many times Lock had saved Tony's life. The idea of Tony "taking care" of him was laughable.
Hammer, emboldened by his arrogance and the unspoken prejudice beneath it, turned back to Natasha. "First time at a gala like this? Let me give you a proper tour. My company's car is competing later—we'll take at least third place."
Natasha's eyes flicked toward Lock, wary of provoking him. "Thanks, but I'm here with friends."
"Friends who aren't even in the VIP section," Hammer pressed. "Come on, meet some real dignitaries. After the race, I'll even take you out for a little high-speed fun."
Tony and Pepper stayed silent. If Hammer wanted to poke a sleeping dragon, they'd let him.
Lock stepped forward. "Mr. Hammer, did you ask me before trying to take the woman next to me?"
Hammer's two suited bodyguards immediately closed in.
Lock smiled faintly. "Planning to use force?"
Hammer shook his head. "We're in Europe. Here, nobles still honor certain… traditions. Disputes are settled through duels. My subordinate here can face you—your choice which one."
"Oh? And the stakes?"
Hammer smirked. "Since we're at a racing event, I'll put up a car worth eight million dollars. If you win, it's yours. If I win… the lady spends the evening with me."
Around them, the crowd buzzed. It was a calculated trap: if Lock agreed, he'd be seen as gambling, a person socially unacceptable in polite circles. If he refused, he'd be pressured to stake something of equal value, which most assumed he didn't have.
But Hammer had miscalculated. Against absolute strength, clever little traps meant nothing.