— 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 —

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JULIE'S BROW FURROWED AS SHE LOOKED DOWN AT THE PHONE VIBRATING IN HER HAND. With a sigh, she held up a finger, interrupting the current discussion. John—the man whom she'd been speaking to and her significant other—visibly frowned and stiffened. The 'are you kidding me right now' expression didn't go unnoticed as Julie turned her back, pressing the phone against her ear.

"I thought I explicitly told you to never call this line," Julie said in a low tone, reminding the director of their arrangement. "I'm on a date at the moment. Can this wait?"

At this point it was impossible to balance lifestyles at once. Two jobs: agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and head of Stark Industries security department. True, she was meant to simply handle the paperwork, but since Alexander Potts had dropped off the grid several months ago... she had to pick up the slack until she could find a suitable replacement.And two very different circles: one that was her family and the people she cared for the most, the other filled with secrets and genuine horrors.

"Phase One has gone rogue."

Julie's jaw tensed and her lips tightened. She placed the line on hold, turning back to her boyfriend with the fakest smile she could get away with. "John, dear. It's Tony. He's asking me to pick up a couple more hours for a top-secret Stark project."

"Okay..." John eyed her expectantly. When she didn't give any further information, that frown returned to his face. "You promised that you'd let me help. Y'know, so you weren't spreading yourself so thin. Come on. I can help."

Julie shook her head. "Not with this."

John huffed. "Do you need me to look after the twins?"

Julie shook her head, quickly growing more engrossed in the encrypted emails that Fury sent her way. "No, that's alright. Happy's got them tonight. You can just head home and get some rest."

"Julie—"

"Goodnight, John," she interrupted. She wasn't intending to be rude, but time was of the essence if Fury meant what he'd said. She stood from their table, leaving the fancy restaurant behind as she climbed into her Stark-issued vehicle—of course with S.H.I.E.L.D. modifications—and transferred the call to the speaker system.

"Brief me."

"Selvig's experiment with the cube was less than ideal," Fury replied. "We received another extraterrestrial visitor not far off from the guests we hosted in New Mexico."

"Asgardian, right?" Julie asked.

"So I've been told," Fury agreed. "The Asgardian was quick to introduce himself as a hostile, taking the tesseract along with several of our own: Barton, Brooks, Hill, and Selvig for a start."

"Maria or Max?"

Fury scoffed. "What do you think?"

"Max it is," Julie noted. "What's our next step? Recover the hostages?"

"I wouldn't call them hostages," Fury contradicted. "They willingly left. He brought some glowing stick through the portal with him and from the looks of it, it gives him control over their minds... No, I'm dusting off some of the books for this one."

"Whoever told you that Initiative was pointless owes you a lot more than twenty bucks," Julie quipped. "Alright, where am I headed? I assumed that's why you called, so I could play chauffeur. Rogers is in Miami, right?"

"Not the one I'm sending you to get," Fury replied. "I'm handling our runaway statue. Romanoff is tracking down the wolf. We have Potts consulting with our gamma savant. Rumlow is gathering his team. Coulson is handling Stark—the other Stark—All that's left is the captain."

"You do remember what happened last time, right?" Julie asked, reflecting on the moment that the human popsicle finally woke from his coma.

"I'm sure you'll find he's much more acquainted with the times," Fury replied. Then he hung up. Julie pursed her lips, eyeing the phone with disdain before blowing out the breath she'd been holding. She adjusted the coordinates in her gps, now heading from Miami to Brooklyn.

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FURY LOWERED HIS PHONE FROM HIS EAR, SLIPPING IT INTO HIS POCKET WITH EASE BEFORE CLIMBING THE STEPS OF THE PORCH TO REACH THE FRONT DOOR OF THE BEACH HOUSE. With the press of a button, the doorbell echoed—however, it wasn't a simple little chime but the blare of a trumpet as if summoning troops in the morning. Fury immediately jumped back, covering his ears before straightening as if trying to act like he'd been unfazed.

She opened the door, cackling obnoxiously with a snort. She sighed, wiping a couple fake tears from her eyes before she actually faced the man. "It's a nice surprise for trespassers, but I hardly ever expected you to be one of the victims, Fury."

"You are a mess of contradictions, Rogers," Fury replied. "For someone born in the twenties, I'd say you should have grown up by now."

"The curse of remaining in your twenties for all eternity," she replied without delay, and her shoulders shrugged to emphasize her nonchalance. "And you're here as a friend, not a work associate. You can call me by my first name, Nick."

Fury's neutral expression faltered as the corner of his lips fell into a grimace. "Last I heard, you changed it."

"Just the spelling," she contradicted. "I only added a little flare. Changed the 'o' to an 'au', switched the first 'e' to a 'y' and got rid of the second. Not that difficult."

Fury blinked.

"But you're welcome to call me Ryn if even that won't do," she suggested. "It was the easiest way to move on with my life and away from all the fighting."

"And how is life for the struggling artist?" Fury asked.

"Considering I haven't asked for my old position back from the moment I left eleven years ago?" Ryn asked rhetorically. "I'd say I'm faring better than most. But that's not really why you're here, right? Pleasantries were always Jarvis's play, never yours. I respected you for your blunt honesty, but don't forget I was one of the few who saw past your deception."

"May I come in?" Fury asked, remaining cryptic.

Ryn rolled her eyes. "You'll just pick the lock if I say no."

She then motioned for him to follow as she walked back toward the kitchen. Rather than what one would expect to find in a kitchen, the super-soldier had paints in her cabinets and paintings in her open freezer. Fury's brow furrowed, revealing the look of confusion he normally hid well.

"I need the top layer to freeze," Ryn explained, "but I still want to adjust the bottom layers, so I do a quick-freeze round. Your turn to unveil a mystery."

Fury placed a file down on her countertop, avoiding the colored puddles that would have certainly stained the manilla folder. She picked it up with intrigue; however, her pupils narrowed as she read the subject material. She slammed the file back down on the counter, shaking her head with defiance.

"One of the reasons why I quit was so that I wouldn't have to deal with that damn cube anymore!" Ryn snapped, continuing to shake her head. "There's nothing in this world that would convince me to take the suit out of storage and dust off the ol' torch."

"They have Charlotte."

Ryn's jaw clenched. She'd made a promise to herself a long time ago that would prevent her from becoming someone she couldn't face in the mirror. There was something about carrying that torch which brought out both the best and the worst from within.

She sighed before finally lifting her eyes from the floor. "Alright... but I need a run-down of the team."

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NATASHA ROMANOFF PINCHED THE BRIDGE OF HER NOSE AND TOOK A DEEP BREATH. The Russian air was cold, and the snow on the rooftop only made it that much harder to sneak up on the predator.

She'd begrudgingly accepted the Luchkov assignment despite the location so close to her home turf; she had no desire to dive deeper into the heart of mother Russia. But Coulson's call changed all that when he mentioned Barton's compromise. When he interrupted and mentioned she was going after an "old friend", she wrongly assumed Stark; she never expected her past to catch up. Not near the end of the world anyway... she'd always thought her past would be her downfall not who she relied on for salvation.

Adamantly, she refused to believe the wolf could be her salvation. He'd certainly tried once though, only it was the hawk that flew her toward redemption... the only reason she even considered facing her past was to repay the debt. Which was the thought running in a loop in her mind as she crept forward, arms extended with a finger on the trigger of her handgun.

"Are you just going to linger in the shadows?" the voice asked, his Russian strong. If she didn't know better, she would've guessed he was a native. "Or are you just going to put another knife in my back?"

"A bullet would be quicker," she replied, then noticed as he stiffened at the sound of her voice breaking the second of silence that followed his question. She then cleared her throat, switching back to English. "There's some people looking for you."

"I'd lost hope that you were one of them," he replied. He then slowly turned around, lowering the sniper which had likely taken a pain-staking amount of time to set up. "You're the last face I expected to see today."

"A shared sentiment," she agreed with a curt nod. Seeing that he'd dropped his primary weapon, she slowly holstered her gun. She had no doubts that if needed, she'd reach hers first. "Who are you working for this time?"

"An independent contractor," he replied. "No name, just numbers."

"You should've come with me."

"I wasn't offered an invitation," he countered, "only a death sentence. You should've come with me."

"I was given a way out," Natasha contradicted, crossing her arms. "A chance to be something better."

"And are you? Better?" he asked. Although his jaw remained tense, his eyes had softened. Her mere presence was enough to crack the iron exterior. "Because from where I stand the color red still stains."

"How about a chance to blot it out?" Natasha asked. Slowly, she pulled an electronic screen from her utility bag and extended it to the other assassin. "Apparently you have some experience with an energy source known as the Tesseract, Volkov."

"That's not the name you gave me, Лисичка." He shook his head. "That's the name they gave me."

"Wulff," she amended. "Would you just look at the file and tell me what you know? You always knew how to make things difficult."

"It's a family trait..." His voice faltered, speaking as he opened the file and laid his eyes on the photo of the cube. He blinked almost as if experiencing deja vu, but was unable to decipher which way he was called. Even though it had been years since he'd broken away from the Red Room, his mind still played static where memories should have been stored. The mention of family had been foreign. Obviously he'd had one at some point, but all he could see was shadowed outlines with no recognizable features.

"You remember something?"

He slowly shook his head, trying to hand back the device. "I've never seen—"

"Choose your next words carefully," Natasha interrupted, swiping across the screen with a finger to bring up a second picture.

It had been taken in black and white, but his own youthful face was unmistakable. He stood on the left of a man dressed in Stars and Stripes, while another soldier—someone who tugged on those deja vu strings for a second time—stood on the man's right. So that's what he'd look like with a smile... Was it possible he'd been happy once? His eyes drifted away from the screen to meet the gaze of the redhead. Of course he'd been happy... that is until Sao Paulo.

"What do you want from me?" Wulff asked.

"I think you offered me the moon at one point," Natasha shrugged, referring to an earlier, albeit broken, promise. "However, I'd settle for a talk with my boss. What you should be asking is: what can we provide you?"

"I'm tired of asking questions, Nataliya," Wulff replied.

"Then maybe it's about time you received some answers," she countered. "We've got ol' Stars and Stripes on our recruitment list. He just might know what you're looking for."

Wulff turned his eyes toward the photo, focusing on the man centered. As much as he despised the organizations that preyed on the weak, he didn't have much of a choice. He never could bring himself to say no to her.

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ALEXANDER POTTS HAD ALWAYS BEEN A CAUTIOUS MAN; HE CONSIDERED HIS PRESENCE IN INDIA COMPLETELY RECKLESS. When he left Stark Industries and joined S.H.I.E.L.D. last year, he'd falsely assumed that all he'd find were answers. Instead, he was faced with more questions and loads of trouble.

Here's what he did know. He was dead. Alexander Potts died in 2010. Due to a now disbanded science experiment, he had alien blood coursing through his veins. Alien blood that was trying to tear apart his mind and provide him with a fate worse than death. So far, his insanity had only reached peak levels once or twice, which is when he learned that the Kree blood coursing through his veins interacted differently for him than it had for any other test subject. Something had gone wrong—or quite possibly very right—during his procedure and Dr. Cho refused to tell him the specifics.

So instead, Alex focused on the facts of what he did know: (1) he was dangerously strong. (2) he emitted high levels of radioactive energy which was also self-contained; no one else could be infected by what he considered a disease. (3) he didn't always rest on the material plane; it felt at times that death was clawing at his chest and trying to drag him down to the pits where abominations like himself belonged. (4) there were voices aside from his own constantly whispering in his mind; others had completely gone insane from this factor, drawing geometric designs as if compelled; only once or twice had his mind ever gone that deep. And (5)—a semi-unrelated note—he was hopelessly in love with Tony Stark, a man who had once been interested in Pott's own sister. It had been a feeling he had once mistook for hatred, but was actually concern and jealousy. Of course it had taken a literal psychic to show him the truth.

But it was the truth he was running away from, and simultaneously it was the truth that led him to India. After being briefed on the end of the world, Fury had sent Potts to retrieve "the big guy" since he'd been present during the New York incident of 2011. And while he'd faced the Hulk, and briefly met Dr. Banner, the ex-head of security could see every possibility where the situation turned sour. And when he tried to explain why it was such a bad idea that he go, his team leader simply told him to bribe a kid and lead the doctor to the outskirts of town where a team would be waiting.

And as the little girl ran through the house and climbed out the first window at the far end of the room, Alex took a deep breath and prepared for confrontation. Dr. Banner entered the room only a moment later, frowning as he watched the kid leave.

The doctor sighed. "Should have gotten paid up front, Banner."

Alex slowly entered the room. "For a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle.

"Avoiding stress isn't the secret," Bruce countered as he turned around. Recognition sparked in his eyes as his brow furrowed. "I know you."

Alex nodded his head. "You did some heavy damage in New York."

"You were on the chopper," Bruce noted. He then looked around at the abandoned home. "You brought me to the edge of the city, smart. I uh... assume the whole place is surrounded?"

Alex shook his head. "Just you and me."

"And your actress buddy, is she a spy too?" Bruce asked, glancing toward the window. "Do they start that young?"

"I'm not really a spy," Alex contradicted. "Just a guy with a seriously bad track of luck."

"And is that why you're here?" Bruce asked. The two had begun to walk around the room, circling the other. "You pull the short straw?"

"Just following orders," Alex replied. "Apparently they thought a familiar face would fare better than a stranger."

Bruce nodded his head, but it was clear that he'd internally scoffed. "So who are you?"

"Alexander Potts," he introduced himself.

"Are you here to kill me, Mr. Potts?" Bruce asked. "Because that's not gonna work out for everyone. You saw firsthand..."

"I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Alex interrupted.

"S.H.I.E.L.D." Bruce tested the organization's name, finally receiving a name for the team that had partnered with General Ross. "How did they find me?"

"They never lost you, doctor," Alex replied, unaware that he was disassociating himself from the organization. "They've kept their distance, even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent."

"Why?"

"Nick Fury seems to trust you," Alex said. "But now he needs you to come in."

"What if I said no?" Bruce asked.

"It's my job to persuade you," Alex answered.

"And what if the... other guy says no?"

"You've been more than a year without an incident," Alex countered. "I don't think you wanna break that streak."

Bruce slowly shook his head, rocking the cradle in the center of the room. He murmured, "I don't always get what I want."

"Doctor, we're facing a potential global catastrophe," Alex explained, extending the file he'd been given to brief Banner on the situation.

Bruce chuckled bitterly. "Well, those I actively try to avoid."

"It's called the Tesseract," Alex added, gesturing to the photo of the blue cube. "It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet."

Bruce leaned closer, accepting the file before taking a quick glance over. "What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?"

"He wants you to find it," Alex contradicted, taking a seat at the nearby table. "It's been taken. It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. Apparently, there's no one that knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that's where I'd be."

"So Fury isn't after the monster?" Bruce asked, still skeptic of the other man's intentions.

Alex shook his head. "Fury's already got a leash on one. He hasn't told me he needs another."

Bruce brow furrowed. "And he tells you everything?"

Considering he didn't even receive his orders from the director, but from someone speaking on his behalf, Alex tried to redirect the conversation. "Talk to Fury, he needs you on this."

Bruce scoffed as he saw through the poor attempt. "He needs me in a cage."

"No one's gonna put you in a—"

Bruce slammed his fists down onto the table, interrupted Alex and he leaned closer to shout, "Stop lying to me!"

Alex fell backward out of his chair, and continued to fall. His eyes widened in horror as the room's appearance had changed so that everything was in stark contrast of black and white. Not a single shade of gray was to be seen. He immediately recognized that his consciousness had been dragged down to that other plane. The one of horror stories that modified reality to look like the scribbles of a madman. Distorted white creatures moved toward him in jagged motions as if trying to drag him deeper so that this time he might not escape. But then something tugged in the opposite direction and he was pulled free.

He gasped as the world's color and structure jumped back into order before his eyes. And that's when he noticed a few lingering seconds of that other plane dancing around his fist in a void-like ball as he kept a trembling hand extended, placing distance between himself and the doctor.

"I'm sorry, that was mean," Bruce apologized. However, his eyes remained glued to the warped energy that had started to fade from Alex's hand. "I just wanted to see what you'd do. Why don't we do this the easy way, where you don't use that, and the other guy doesn't make a mess? Okay? Alexander..."

Warily, Alex slowly lowered his wrist—scorching the ground before the remnants of energy receded to nothing. Then he spoke into the earpiece that allowed him to maintain contact with the team S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided as back up. "Stand down. We're good here."

"Just you and me?" Bruce glanced toward the exits of the room, turning back toward Alex which a look that emphasized Bruce had seen through the original lie. "For a spy, you're not a great liar."

Alex stood from the ground, brushing himself off while simultaneously trying to stop the tremors of his own body. He noticed that the veins in his hands were doing that thing where they occasionally glowed a faint blue. "A reminder doctor, I'm not a spy."

Bruce nodded his head with a knowing look. "You're just Fury's other monster."

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TIMOTHY JARVIS SAT IN THE PRISON YARD WITH HIS EYES CLOSED. His legs were crossed, his fingers posed, and his lips hummed an annoying little tune. Almost as if waking from a nap, he opened his eyes and glanced at the group that had gathered. He then clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

"Alright, let's get started," his voice echoed as those around waited in anticipated silence. He then released the breath of air he took and shook his head. "Nope. Nope, this isn't working. It's not working. I need Magichead to get my mojo flowing."

Another man was ushered to the front of the group—albeit fighting all the way—until he stood before Tim. He frowned as he took a seat beside the so-called psychic and offered a hissed whisper. "I hate it when you call me that. You promised a cool superhero name."

"Will, don't be 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Marzipan'," Tim replied, reaching out to place his fingertips on top of his partner's head.

Will immediately slapped his hand away as if offering a warning before correcting him. "It's 'Azkaban'."

"I've heard it both ways," Tim shrugged, reaching his hand out again before it was slapped away. "Now come here, so Psych-man can siphon some psychic energy from your big, round head."

"You're not actually psychic," Will again reminded him.

"Well don't tell them," Tim lowered his voice as he gestured to the crowd of in-mates. "I promised to give Snake a palm reading later."

Will glanced over at the man called Snake and immediately shook his head. "Tim, you need to call Rumlow and tell him to get us out of here now. This place is a dead—"

"Shhh," Tim shushed him, placing a hand over his friend's mouth. "I'm getting everything I need here."

"Prisoners Zoltar and Zita!" The names of their fake identities were shouted by the prison guard who had just entered the yard. "You've got a visitor."

Tim and Will stood, dusting themselves off as they approached their so-called visitor at the gate. A relieved look crossed Will's face as he recognized their S.T.R.I.K.E. team leader; however, Tim frowned with a pout.

"Rummy, I'm almost there, I can feel a vision—"

"Can it, Jarvis," Hunter Rumlow interrupted, growling at the informing nickname. "I'd leave you clowns in here longer than the mission dictates, but it's been put on hold. We have a crisis that trumps everything else now."

"More important than tracing the upcoming arms deal?" Tim asked. "You've intrigued me. Go on."

"I'll brief you on the way," Hunter replied, signaling the guard to release the pair of 'prisoners'. "Unless you have one of those visions in the next five minutes."

A look of concentration twisted Tim's features before he huffed and shook his head. "The spirits aren't shedding any light... I think your pessimistic attitude dispels the magic."

Hunter rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before leaving the gate and approaching the black sedan he'd driven. From the passenger seat, Mackenzie Phillips rolled down her window.

"You think he's up for it?" she asked.

"Tracking the scientist was one thing," Hunter retorted. "A stroke of beginner's luck. So do I believe an ounce of this psychic crap? No."

"He passed the lie detector test."

Hunter scoffed. "You've been trained to pass one too. The results of those interrogations are hardly impossible to fake."

"He's a civilian," Mack countered.

"Whose father worked closely with Director Fury," Hunter countered her counter without hesitation. "Psychics aren't real. They're charlatans."

As Tim and Will approached the sedan—changed from the prison garbs into casual attire—Mack allowed a small smile to pull at the corners of her lips. "We've just been shown that we're not alone out here in the universe. Who's to say that the spiritual isn't on the same spectrum as the extra-terrestrial?"

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THE MAN REFERRED TO AS CAPTAIN AMERICA IN HIS S.H.I.E.L.D. DOSSIER WAS IN FACT NOT MORE ACQUAINTED WITH THE TIMES. This was the decision Julie had come to as she entered the gym and nearly lost her head to a flying sandbag.

An apologetic look briefly crossed his face before his eyes narrowed as he recognized her. Without a word, he picked up another sandbag and tried to return to his regimen.

"Trouble sleeping?" she asked.

"I slept for seventy years, ma'am," Steve countered. "I think I've had my fill."

"Then shouldn't you be celebrating?" Julie asked. "Out there seeing the world."

Steve stopped punching the sandbag. Seeing the conversation wasn't going to end anytime soon, he took a seat on a nearby bench and began to unravel the tape around his hands. "When I went under, the world was at war. I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost."

"We've made some mistakes along the way," Julie agreed, pulling out her phone with the encrypted files that Fury had sent. "Some very recently."

"You here with a mission, ma'am?" Steve asked.

"I am." She nodded. "And you don't have to call me ma'am."

"Alright..." Steve tossed the tape into the trash bin before gathering what little he'd brought with him to the gym back into his duffle bag. "Trying to get me back in the world, Agent 36?"

"Julie's fine," she said as she handed him the files that she'd printed into a physical copy for his convenience. "And we're trying to save it."

Steve frowned as his eyes flickered over the image of the Tesseract. "Hydra's secret weapon."

"My dad fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you," Julie explained. "He thought the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy, something the world sorely needs."

"Your dad?"

"Howard Stark," Julie answered. "He spoke the world of you."

Steve swallowed as images of his past flashed across his eyes. He certainly saw it now, in her eyes... her smile. Like the rest of her siblings—from images he'd seen in the papers—they were all the spitting image of their father. He glanced back down at the file. "Who took it from you?"

"He's called Loki. He's not from around here. There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in," Julie replied. "The world has gotten even stranger than you already know."

Steve shook his head. "At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me."

"Fury had a feeling you'd say that... He also said ten bucks proves you wrong," Julie delivered the brief message before adding, "There's a debriefing package waiting for you back at your apartment."

Steve nodded his head, bending down to pick up one of the punching bags before heading toward the exit of the gym.

Julie took a few steps as an effort to follow him out before asking. "Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?"

"You should have left it in the ocean," Steve answered without missing a beat or a glance over his shoulder.

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NATHAN PHILLIPS ROLLED HIS EYES AS TONY STARK MADE YET ANOTHER DRAMATIC ENTRANCE, ONLY THIS TIME ARRIVING FROM THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.

"How does it look?" Pepper asked, monitoring the power levels of the recently lit Stark Tower.

"Like Christmas," Tony replied through the comm systems, "but with more... me."

Nate rolled his eyes again. The reason he was present was to monitor the changing security. Apparently there'd been a breach during the construction of the tower, one which Julie requested he handle as a favor. He'd only accepted since Miss Potts had made an additional request. And as the two had begun seeing one another on a more intimate level since Miss Potts took over as CEO of Stark Industries, he couldn't bring himself to refuse... no matter how much he'd rather be with the rest of his team acquiring information from the San Quentin State Prison.

"Gotta go wider on the public awareness campaign. You need to do some press," Pepper said. "I'm in DC tomorrow. I'm working on the zoning for the next three buildings."

"Pepper, you're killing me. Remember the moment?" Tony rhetorically asked. "Enjoy the moment."

The two were America's favorite on-again-off-again couple. Only after Tony's latest stunt, the 'on-again' was looking less likely. Despite the complications, the two had remained close friends, partnering beside one another for the betterment of the company. That didn't mean Tony didn't occasionally still flirt—to Nate's disapproval—and out of habit Pepper always had the quickest reply.

"Then get in here and I will," Pepper replied. Nate shot her a quizzical look, one she quickly reassured with a shake of her head.

Tony landed on the platform balcony of the penthouse, entering the room just as the last of his suit was taken off by the hu-tech gauntlet of gadgets circling around him.

"Over the top much?" Nate asked.

Tony dismissed his criticism. "Hollyn would've loved it."

"Levels are holding steady..." Pepper bit the edge of her lip with nervous anticipation as she watched the monitors. She then glanced back over her shoulder. "I think."

"Of course they are, I was directly involved. Which brings me to my next question: how does it feel to be a genius?" Tony asked

Pepper laughed. "Well, ha, I really wouldn't know now, would I?"

"What do you mean? All this came from you," Tony contradicted as he pulled up the schematics of Stark Tower.

"No. All this came from that," Pepper countered as she tapped the arc reactor in his chest.

"Give yourself some credit, please," Tony requested as he walked to the center of the room to pour himself a drink. "Stark Tower is your baby. Give yourself... twelve percent of the credit."

"Twelve percent?" Pepper scoffed.

"An argument can be made for fifteen," Tony quickly added.

"Twelve percent?" She was incredulous at this point. "For my baby?"

"Well, I did do all the heavy lifting. Literally, I lifted the heavy things," Tony explained. "And sorry, but the security snafu? That was on you."

Pepper bristled. "Oooooh."

"My private elevator—"

"You mean our elevator?" Pepper corrected.

"Was teeming with sweaty workmen. I'm going to pay for that comment about percentages in some subtle way later, aren't I?" Tony asked.

Pepper poured herself a glass of champagne then shook her head. "Not gonna be that subtle."

"I'll tell you what. Next building's gonna say 'Potts' on the tower," Tony offered.

"On the lease," Pepper contradicted.

"You still seeing your little fly on the wall there?" Tony asked, referring to Nathan as he stood beside the elevator. He bristled as Tony shamelessly continued to flirt. "Can you bunk over?"

"Sir, the telephone," Tony's A.I. unit, Jarvis, spoke over the speaker system. "I'm afraid my protocols are being overwritten."

"Stark, we need to talk," Phil Coulson's voice spoke over the AI.

Tony huffed then picked up his phone, looking at the image of Coulson. "You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark, please leave a message."

"This is urgent," Coulson replied.

"Then leave it urgently," Tony retorted. However, the elevator doors opened and Coulson stepped through. Tony glanced over at Pepper. "Security breach. That's on you. Your guy's just standing there."

"He's technically one of ours, Mr. Stark," Coulson informed the bachelor as he approached the center of the room. Nate followed a step behind.

"Phil!" Pepper sounded elated as she welcomed the agent. "Come in."

"Phil?" Tony's brow furrowed. "Uh, his first name is Agent."

Coulson shook his head. "I can't stay"

Pepper playfully rolled her eyes at Tony as she met the agents closer to the elevator. "Come on in, we're celebrating."

"Which is why he can't stay," Tony agreed.

"We need you to look this over." Coulson extended a file for Tony to take. "Soon as possible."

Tony shook his head. "I don't like being handed things."

"That's alright, 'cause I love to be handed things. So, let's trade," Pepper suggested. She passed her glass of champagne to Coulson, taking the file before trading Tony's glass as she handed him the file. "Thank you."

Nate couldn't help but smirk as he noticed the way Tony bristled at the interruption. "Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday."

Coulson shook his head. "This isn't a consultation."

"Is this about The Avengers?" Pepper asked, but quickly amended her statement as she glanced over at Nate. "Which I...I know nothing about."

"The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought." Tony then added as he glanced over his shoulder while approaching his computer system. "And I didn't even qualify."

"I didn't know that either," Pepper lied.

"Yeah, apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others," Tony listed his disqualifying traits.

Pepper tilted her champagne glass in Tony's direction with a nod of her head. "That I did know."

"This isn't about personality profiles anymore," Coulson replied.

"Whatever. Miss Potts, got a minute?" Tony asked. Pepper walked over as Tony input the files into his own databases. He lowered his voice. "You know, I thought we were having a moment."

"I was having twelve percent of a moment," Pepper replied. She then gestured over her shoulder. "And to answer your question: Yes, I'm still seeing Nathan."

Tony's cocky persona faltered for a minute as he glanced over at Nate. It was clear that his feelings for her had always been genuine, but they had always been at different stages in life. And it was that gap which allowed someone else to step in. He'd lost her, just as Hollyn said he would.

"This seems serious," Pepper noted, choosing to ignore the look she received from Tony because she knew if she addressed it... her feelings were valid too, but she understood they weren't good for each other. Tony Stark needed his name in lights, and as much as she respected him for it, she couldn't let herself love him. "Phil's pretty shaken."

"How did you notice?" Tony asked then paused. "Why is he Phil?"

"What is all of this?" Pepper asked, gesturing to the files.

"This is, uh..." Tony expanded his arms and the different profiles appeared in holographic form, floating in the air before them. "This."

The screens showed images of Captain America in action, the Hulk roaring as he attacked the army at Culver University, and Thor fighting the Destroyer in New Mexico. Another is of Loki and the Tesseract which the two watch in awe.

"I'm going to take the jet to DC tonight," Pepper announced.

"Tomorrow," Tony suggested.

"You've got homework," Pepper countered. "You've got a lot of homework."

"Well, what if I didn't?" Tony asked.

"If you didn't?" Pepper repeated.

"Yeah."

"You mean if you finished?" She asked. Tony nodded his head. "Well, um...then..." her voice faded as she leaned closer to whisper in his ear. Tony gasped. Coulson looked away out of embarrassment, but Nathan could feel that vulgar green envy planting a pit in his stomach.

"Square deal," Tonu agreed. "It's a date."

"Work hard." Pepper kissed him on the cheek before walking away. She wrapped an arm around Nate's as she stepped into the elevator beside Coulson. The last thing the three of them saw was Tony grab the holographic form of the Tesseract with a puzzled look plastered to his face.

"What'd you say to him?" Nate asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Pepper smirked. "Why? Did I make you nervous, Mr. Superspy?"

"No..."

"It's Tony," Pepper chuckled. "I promised him the contact information of this year's Maxim cover models. Now I know you spies don't trust very easily... but I'm not looking to jeopardize this. Now go save the world."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes before placing a gentle kiss upon his lips. As she broke contact when the elevator doors opened to the ground floor, the left Nate stood in a stupor as she followed Coulson to the sedan that would drop her off at LaGuardia.

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | And we're back. I don't know how frequent updates will be, but each and every character holds a dear place in my heart. With Loki season 2 out, I was feeling nostalgic for the original six, which explains the chapter release. Since most of the predecessor books need to be updated as well, I tried to incorporate some context to how these characters ended up where they were. Feel free to ask any questions. As always don't forget to vote and leave a comment, I'd love some feedback!