Chapter Text
You questioned not just your existence in this one moment, but also your choice of being an atheist.
It’d be really good to have something to pray to.
You didn’t have a temper – it wasn’t really in you to get mad. After all, anger in your family had only ever brought a stupid amount of pain, so suppressing it had meant safety and safety had meant getting a somewhat decent sleep.
But you had seen red when you had glimpsed an email outlying the reasons your friend’s career was going to be flushed down the toilet and, as it was in typical corporate bullshit, it was because they saw no money making to be had through your team’s meager stretch into the AI world.
It was so easy to get up to the tallest level of the tower, even with the security protocols in place. You didn’t have a plan in mind, not really, but you knew you needed an audience with the people that spent so little time seeing the actual labs. You weren’t sure if you were going to yell at them or beg them, but something had to be done.
And, still running on adrenaline and a ridiculous amount of fury, you had barely felt yourself move forward towards the doors of Pepper Pott’s private office, where you could hear two voices talking lowly to each other.
“Miss Potts!” You yelled, and you realized that begging was the way this was going to go, “Miss Potts!”
And, without waiting for her to answer, you slammed open her door. Your eyes zeroed in on her petite frame, taking in her wide eyes and slack jaw with just a hint of misplaced pride on your part. She was way beyond you, her red hair absolutely gorgeous and her blue eyes stunning, but her physical attributes didn’t stop your small dive into insanity.
“Miss Potts,” you said again, your head fuzzy, “the AI division of this company has worked months on- I just saw the email – an email, of all things – and I just can’t let – It’s not even my work and I’m telling you right now that they’re doing things that will change the world and-”
“Who are you?” Miss Potts said, “How did you even get in here?”
“I’m nobody!” You said, hands up in a peaceful manner, surprised to find that she looked genuinely worried, “Seriously, I just… I’ve worked here for two years and I just can’t – please don’t shut down any division. I understand that it’s millions of dollars you’re putting into the medical side of Stark Industries and I know last quarter has been rough, but we can save-”
“I want her.”
You jumped so high that you were convinced your head hit the ten foot ceiling. You hadn’t realized, conceptually, that someone else was in the room with you. You heard the voices, but you simply had not cared.
And now, with Anthony Edward Stark looking at you, limbs lazily draped over a small couch, you wondered if this was where you were meant to be buried. He was handsome, even more so in person, and you felt your brain short circuit when you realized you had interrupted not just your boss, but the boss of your boss’s boss.
“No,” Miss Potts said, looking at thee Tony Stark with a glare of all things, and then turned that very same glare to you, “And I’ll ask again, before Happy finds us, how did you get in here?”
You felt frozen, “I… The security… It’s a AES 489 encryption with an asymmetric key- Keys, actually, which is amazing. And-”
Tony Stark jumped up from the couch as if he had the energy of a ten-year-old boy – all bounce and dramatic movements. He clapped once and pointed at you, a finger wagging as if you were a dog.
“So you turned off MFT locally? Leaving a trail?”
You scoffed, almost offended even in the face of your last day on earth, “I wasn’t going after corporate secrets, I just wanted access to the top offices. So I leveraged a side-channel with my own network scanner, looking for open ports. Yes, I had to be on the inside to scan the LAN, but I’m not actually a hacker.”
“What ports?” He asked, genuinely interested, “I haven’t left any open. And-”
“An RDP port is open,” you interrupted, like an idiot, “it’s been open. Your chief network security officer likes to work from home. By the way, I can easily SSH into your APs and change the SSIDs… And other nefarious things. Mostly harmless, but even a hidden network is a security problem.”
He was pulling something up on his… Phone. More sophisticated than a phone, but certainly something resembling it only – this time your mouth fell open – it was actually a hologram that he was manipulating without the use of external peripherals and you were madly jealous.
“Shit,” he said and, with a wave of his hand that revealed a watch worth more than your salary, he gestured for you to come over, “port 3389 is wide open…”
You pointed at the screen, “and pinging. I’m guessing someone isn’t in today.”
“JARVIS, scan the internal LAN. I don’t like messes and this, this is messy. It’s ugly. I want it fixed.”
“Of course, sir.”
Who the hell was that? Was that someone on the phone with him?
“Security, JARVIS, paramount,” He continued, “speaking of, security breach person…”
Your head was going to implode. Explode? Something violent, you were sure.
“I’d also check the email servers, for fun,” you muttered dully, “and get every single person off the WiFi until you get their MAC addresses. Oh, and the security cameras not being segmented on a different coax circuit – the fact that we’re working off coax rather than satellite’s is crazy, by the way – any who, the cameras need to segmented away from the data. We’re creating a bottleneck somewhere.”
“You heard the lovely lady,” Mr. Stark said, “get it done. ASAP. Quicker than ASAP. I wanted it done yesterday, because I already knew everything she’s saying.”
“Of course you had, sir. I have the utmost faith in you and your genius at all times.”
JARVIS was a flippin’ AI and Stark Industries wanted to ditch the AI medical division? What the actual flying fuck was that about?
Miss Potts said your full name, something even you haven’t heard in a while, and you realized that her silence wasn’t out of respect for Tony Stark working but rather her doing her own work. You flushed a brilliant shade of red, feeling rather stupid in front of two giants.
“You have a certificate in marketing?” Miss Potts questioned, looking skeptical, “we hired you as a sales consultant for our retail side of things.”
“Look at that,” Mr. Stark said, looking at what you realized was both your resume and your quarterly review, “not a tech degree in sight. What are you, a sleeper agent?”
“Me?” You said, unable to stop the nervous giggle, “I’m not -the whole network thing – I’ve always liked – I’m just…” You huffed out a breath, “I’m good with technology but better with people. So I got a degree in marketing and figured I could sell my hobby.”
“And yet you’re selling our mobile phones?” Miss Potts said, now looking at you fully, “that’s-”
“A waste of genius,” Mr. Stark said, “promote her. Save whatever division she was babbling about. Hey, agent, how’d you feel about being a PA? My PA. I’m in the market for one.”
“Oh my god, Tony, don’t say it like that. You’re a walking HR disaster, I swear.”
Your eyes went left and right, looking a Miss Potts with more than a little hesitation, “I’m sorry, Miss Potts, but I thought you were Mr. Stark’s PA?”
“I’ve resigned,” Miss Potts said, and her hands went out to gesture around what you now realized was a very empty looking office, “for a while. Need to take care of my family.”
“She’s leaving me, agent,” Mr. Stark moaned, sitting down on Miss Pott’s desk, where she immediately tried to shoo him off, “and you’re the most interesting thing to walk through this door since ’97… I mean, look at those legs.”
“Look anymore and it’ll be more than an HR disaster on our hands,” you said drily, because no one was allowed to look at you like that, boss or not. You were tough as nails being the eldest daughter and you’d be damned to let any man treat you like a piece of meat.
Tony clapped, “you’re great. Come on, say yes. My lab is Candyland. You can do my boring paperwork while looking upon my genius in action. Pepper hates my lab, I’ll convert you quickly.”
You think your right eye was twitching. It had never done that before. Perhaps you were having a stroke, or a hallucination, or security had found you and had murdered you in the hallway and this was your new hell.
“I…” You shook your head, “don’t know how to be a PA.”
“Pepper will teach you,” He said quickly, “She’s here for a whole month before she leaves me.”
“I like my job,” you mumbled dumbly.
“So did I,” Miss Potts lamented, “So did I.”
“You don’t even know me,” you told him, as if you were trying to convince him not to hire you, “I could be late every day, or tell company secrets, or-”
“Relax, agent,” Mr. Stark said, “I’ve just read your file. You’re stupid perfect – do you even get sick? Two years here and not even one PTO day taken. And don’t get me started on that very passionate, poorly worded save the world speech you just gave. You have fire, I need that.”
Did Tony Stark just give you an actual compliment? What was today?
“Also,” Miss Potts added, “triple your salary.”
You’d finally pay off your medical bills.
“Okay,” you said, knowing it was insane, “I can try?”
“Jeez, said with the confidence of a middle schooler,” Stark joked, picking up his jacket from the couch as casually as someone like Tony Stark could, “Pep, train your Padawan well. Agent, see you tomorrow at seven… Ish.”
And then he was off, walking – no, sashaying out the door as if this was an everyday occurrence. As if your entire life just hadn’t changed. As if you hadn’t just changed careers drastically. As if-
“You’re stuck with agent for the rest of your life,” Miss Potts said, “I’m Pepper, by the way. And you would like to be called…?”
“Uh,” you said intelligently, “I think the right answer is agent, right?”
Pepper smirked, “rule number one, never let him push you around.”
But you hadn’t offered your usual nickname, despite her insistence. You had a very funny feeling you wouldn’t be hearing it for a while. Maybe, a new start was exactly what you needed.
“Oh, agent,” Pepper joked, “your AI division now has a hefty donation towards it. We’re not exactly big on the medical side of things, but Tony’s whims are a mystery even to me.”
You too.
You were really considering a new religion at this point.
You collected your crap quickly, your little sliver of a cubical cleaned out in under five minutes. You had friends here, sure, but by the time you had managed to sign all of the paperwork Pepper had, it had already been past working hours. The only ones left were the psychopaths on some sort of breakthrough.
You’d have to text them. That was the highlight of your life, after all, saying goodbye through half-baked text messages and little to nothing explanations.
When you got home with a stack of pages tucked carefully under your arm, your apartment greeted you with the usual plethora of problems – a broken lock, a blinking light in the kitchen, and a sink that was only kind of draining.
It was insane to think that you’d soon be able to afford what was likely a small mansion. You had never cared about money, not really, all you ever wanted was to not care about bills every second of every day. Your parents had enforced the importance of money on you young and, despite telling your friends that you never really cared, a part of you never wanted to have debt.
When you placed the stack of what you were calling your blood contract on your small kitchen table, you realized that something wasn’t quite right. You hadn’t gotten the mail, yet sitting neatly right in the middle of the table was a small package.
Maybe you were losing your mind, staring at the box as if it would suddenly grow legs. Had you gotten the mail and simply forgotten? You had a stressful day, that had to be it.
Then, it buzzed.
You screamed, throwing yourself backwards into the corner of your kitchen stove. You grunted at that, surprised by the pain, and watched in stunned silence as the box continued to buzz.
Was it... Was that a ringtone?
You hurriedly grabbed at the box, ripping it open with a few curse words and a lot of teeth, because scissors would take too long to find. When you had finally gotten your hand wrapped around the object, you realized exactly what had happened.
“Mr. Stark,” you asked, “how’d you-”
“Expect the unexpected, agent,” He answered, “besides, I wasn’t waiting until tomorrow for you to figure this out. We have things to do. Well, I have things to do, which means you have things to do. You’ll see.”
The man oozed confidence. It was unpredictable. You were good at reading people, you had to be ever since taking a sales job, but Tony Stark was an enigma that confused you the more you interacted with him.
“Mr. Stark, I…”
You had no idea what to say. You couldn’t exactly say thank you yet, you didn’t know if this job was going to work out. He had more money than god himself. He invented things that shaped the future. You were small.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “I’m amazing. Only my special employees get the good phones. See you tomorrow, agent. Address is programmed in.”
And then he hung up, just like that.
You stared down at the phone – the more than phone, considering the extra buttons along the ridges of it… The same one you had seen him wearing in Pepper’s office. He had given you the latest prototype.
You were screwed.
And you stayed up all night testing it out.
It was big.
You had seen pictures of mansions, and driven past a few, and read about the amount of rooms a mansion had, but Tony Stark’s home was nothing like you expected. Or, maybe, it was everything that you expected and yet more unexpected that you were standing in it.
“Guests often come through here,” Pepper was explaining, “Especially… Unwanted ones, ones that I tend to kick of the premises. Don’t worry, you’ll have access through the garage, avoiding all that.”
“Right,” you said, getting Pepper’s hints just barely, “I have to kick people out?”
“You’ll see,” Pepper said then, pausing, “Tony’s reputation is almost exactly what every sleezy network claims.”
“Almost?” You asked dumbly.
She only smiled – a little quirk of her lips, “Let me show you his lab.”
You traversed down thin stairs, following her as if you were off to a super-secret world. For a moment, you wondered if these two very high rolling people were about to abduct you and keep you tied up in a literal basement. The thought, somehow, wasn’t enough to make you run away.
You arrived in the biggest space you had ever seen outside of a concert venue. It housed… It must have housed entire worlds, honestly, considering the cars you could see all the way in the back, the random bit of everything metal closer to you, and the… The holograms. Actual, real life holograms.
And in the middle of it all, conducting an orchestra, was Tony Stark, yelling at things and waving around a screwdriver.
“You’re late,” Pepper called to him, but you could hardly hear her, your eyes locked on everything but the two people in the room.
“If it’s a board of directors meeting, tell ‘em I’m coming up with the next Stark Phone, which sells on average of eight billion a month – as long as my darling sleeper agent approves of the design.”
Your eyes flickered towards Pepper, looking for something on how to continue this conversation properly, but she was lasered focused in on her own phone.
“I…” You swallowed.
You had played with it all night, not getting any sleep at all, and you knew what problems it had. From a sales standpoint, it was a dud for the older generation – fifty and up. Maybe even forty. It was too clumsy for them. From a tech standpoint, Stark Industries had yet to fix its SIM card problems.
You had opinions and they were negative. No one liked to hear negative opinions.
“All or nothing, dear,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully, “I can take a hit.”
“Marketability is low with your motion sensing for the hologram, it’s too unpredictable. Older people can’t handle universal remotes, forget this.”
Mr. Stark looked… Genuinely curious. It gave you a boost of confidence.
“And Stark Industries’ contract with Vodafone is… Unfortunate. Their wireless network is quickly going out of date. If we want to sell the best phone, we have to have the best network. I’m not saying create our own satellites, I’m saying look into new options.”
“We’re talking dead zones,” Mr. Stark said, “has anyone looked into that, Pep?”
Pepper looked up from her own phone, just for a second, “our new military contract just paid out, Tony. We’re not exactly prioritizing public inventions. Speaking of, you’re late… For the secretary of defense lunch.”
That disheartened you. You knew that Stark Industries was a weapons design company, but that didn’t mean that’s all it was. The company had never had only one hand in one basket, it was what made you pursue a job there.
“Oh god, anything but him,” Mr. Stark complained, “agent, put a pin in this conversation. I want more data. Having our own network is something worth looking into, considering cybersecurity now-a-days. Would fix our bottleneck at HQ too.”
You nodded, putting a little tick in your mind. First duty as Tony Stark’s PA, remembering design flaws and planning an entirely new internet infrastructure, no big deal at all.
What the fuck was your new life?
“Lunch, Tony,” Pepper reminded, “oh, agent, here’s Tony’s calendar. Live it and love it, you’ll be reminding him about every single thing since he can’t do it himself.”
“If only you’d let me forget the boring things, Pep. Alright, power down everyone. JARVIS, you get agent’s reaction to all of it?”
“Yes, sir,” You jumped again, entirely distracted by the seemingly very sophisticated AI rather than Mr. Stark recording you.
“Oh, and say hi.”
“Hello, agent. My name is JARVIS. I am sir’s personal AI.”
“Amazing,” you muttered, “so cool. Hi JARVIS, you’re awesome. What else can you do?”
Mr. Stark shushed you dramatically, “can’t tell you all the secrets day one, can I? Come on, new girl, come shepherd me into an utterly horrible lunch date.”
“I’m going to the office,” Pepper said, “I’ve transferred everything to your phone. It’ll take a few days to get used to Tony’s schedule and eccentric behavior. Don’t let him drink this afternoon, we need him ready for the award dinner tonight.”
“Oohh eccentric, huh?” Mr. Stark teased, “eh, I’ve been called worse. Let’s go people, time is my money!”
You looked toward Pepper one last time, feeling just a tad nervous. Terrified. You were terrified. Pepper, you realized quickly, was very easy to talk to. In fact, you had grown fond of her almost immediately.
“Best get a full dose of him now,” Pepper said, walking closer to you as to whisper, “he likes you – you’ve impressed him, something that’s very hard to do. But he’s a handful. Now’s your time to back out if you want to.”
You looked around at the room that was slowly powering down. The things here changed the world and, in the smallest of ways, you get to be a part of it. You didn’t think you’d trade it for the world.
“Thank you, Miss. Potts,” you said, meaning the words, “I’ll learn that calendar while I’m in the car.”
“Don’t bother,” she joked, just a tiny bit, “It’ll be different by the time you make it back to the lab.”
Seeing as Tony Stark was attempting to get into one of the very sleek sports car, another man arguing who you dimly recognized as Mr. Stark’s driver, you knew that plans changed constantly around here.
What’s life without a little chaos?
“So,” Mr. Stark said, “What’s your deal?”
“At this moment,” you said, out of your mind with worry as you dug your fingers into your thigh, holding tightly, “I’m thinking I’m gonna die via your driving.”
Mr. Stark laughed loudly at that, as if he was surprised that you’d comment on how unsafe you felt in this ridiculously fast car, “I’m asking for your life story, agent. Why’d you take the gig? What made you say yes?”
“Mr. Stark,” you said, trying to sound serious, “isn’t that a little personal?”
“Aren’t you my personal assistant?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, “eccentric and funny, you really are the whole package.”
“So sassy,” he complained, “sassy, smart, beautiful… I’d say you’re the whole package, babe.”
“And that’s called sexual harassment in the workplace,” but you were kidding… Mostly.
You couldn’t get a single read on this strange person. He was roughly your age, you knew, but he seemed to be stuck in the mindset of a teenager. He was arrogant, cocky, unwilling to listen to rules… Pepper hold told you enough about his escapades… By all accounts, you shouldn’t like him.
But you did. You saw something in the way he actually listened to you. No one ever listened to you – you quite literally did your job, went home, and rinse and repeat. You were happy enough with your small apartment and you found comfort in your hobbies.
You trusted him far too quickly, something that was probably going to bite you in the ass sooner rather than later.
“I had shit parents, a shit fiancé, and a boring career,” you told him, “I have no idea what I’m doing here, but at least it’ll pay off stupid medical bills. And… And you really got me with your phone, alright? It’s cool.”
Mr. Stark laughed loudly – near hysterical, “my phone? My phone made you take the job?”
“It’s holograms!” You practically screeched, “You know, Star Trek. I’ve dreamed of stuff like that for ages!”
He was still laughing, “shit, I’ll just show every investor of ours my phone. That’ll get them to give over their money.”
“Probably would!” You teased back, “you should try it with the secretary of defense. Ten bucks if you show him one single hologram he’ll take whatever deal you’re making.”
“Who said anything about a deal?” Mr. Stark questioned, “this is a lunch.”
You looked his way, an eyebrow raising, “alright, if you walk away without a deal of some kind, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”
“I’m a billionaire, I’m allergic to cash with that low of a number.”
“I’m lower middle class,” you said back in the same tone, “I’m seriously debating if I have anything other than mothballs in my wallet.”
This time, Tony’s laughter lasted until you got to this apparent lunch place. He parked quickly, wherever he wanted, which was to say people got out of the way to give him a parking spot.
It was insanity.
You stayed in the car, much to Mr. Stark chagrine (“come on, babe, you could make this fun!”) but you didn’t want to disappoint Pepper. Besides, you would get up in a moment to go to the very modest Starbucks across the street to study up.
And that’s what you did… You followed Tony Stark around, kept him in line, and learned about every single part of Stark Industries until your eyes hurt.
And, if Tony came back with a crisp ten dollar bill, his phone mysteriously missing, you definitely didn’t have a smile on your face the entire way back to the office.
“You’re great at this!”
Pepper seemed genuinely happy with you, something that you had worried about since the moment you met her. She was intimidating in the opposite way Tony was – Pepper was someone you never wanted to disappoint.
“I nearly forgot about that meeting with the board,” you moaned, feeling terrible about it, “if it wasn’t for you-”
“It’s week one,” Pepper said dryly, “my first week, Tony told me I had beautiful boobs while drunk and I slapped him to sober him up. Trust me, you forgetting a board meeting is nothing… They would have called to remind you.”
Your head was still spinning, “I don’t like… Escorting the other girls out of this place.”
Pepper nodded sagely, “comes with the territory. If that’s a line in the sand-”
“It’s not,” you said strongly, “it’s not, I promise. I’m just trying to… Wrap my mind around it.”
Pepper looked unsure, “Tony may be a genius, but he’s also a playboy. Getting drunk, partying… It won’t stop. If you’re uncomfortable…”
Go now.
You weren’t uncomfortable with Tony being an adult. It bugged you, considering your own outlook on sexual things, but it wasn’t a tick mark against the job, it was just something to add. The real problem you were having with it was that it didn’t quite fit into the box you had named Tony Stark.
He was someone you’d never predict… And that was something that terrified you.
“It’s fine,” you swore to her, “and Pepper, if you need to go down to your dad to help out, I get it. I’m by no means ready, but if he needs you…”
“You’re too nice,” Pepper said easily, “don’t worry about me. You have me for a whole three weeks, I’m happy to help.”
“Thank you,” you said, relieved. You didn’t want to keep her from her family, but you had been worried. You would hate yourself if she missed valuable time with him. It was a shame she had to go though, Tony seemed to really trust her.
“Could you attempt to bring breakfast down to him?” Pepper asked, “we have to get him on a flight to-”
“New York! Yup, I got this. He’ll eat this toast if it kills him.”
Your mom had always said that if someone made you something, you ate it. You didn’t think that applied to one Tony Stark, but you’d damn well try.
“Hey, boy-genius,” you shouted as you reached the doors, “I have food.”
“Sweet mother of science, silence your pothole. Unless it’s a cure for a hangover, don’t even think about coming over here. JARVIS, keep agent a safe distance away.”
“JARVIS, tell Tony that a greasy breakfast may help with said hangover.”
“Greasy?” Tony questioned, his head peaking up over the only sofa in this place, “Bacon?”
The word was said in a begging tone and, feeling pity, you decided to play nice. You moved closer to, wowza, the wreck that was a human being named Tony Stark, and handed him the plate.
“Eat, shower, brush teeth,” you said, playing it up, know his pride may just kick in if you teased him enough, “Tony, you stink.”
“Can’t hear you over me salivating over this bacon. This beautiful, stunning piece of rejuvenating meat. JARVIS, I want an all access pass to whatever amount of bacon is acceptable on demand.”
“I’ll let the chef know, sir.”
“We have a chef?” You questioned, wondering if you lost your mind. You hadn’t seen another soul in this place.
“No,” JARVIS answered, “sir has installed a protocol called sarcasm into my programming. Was I incorrect?”
“Tony was wrong for trying to teach you that,” you told him seriously, “don’t try that again until you have a real teacher.”
“Hey, I’m the king of sarcasm! I was born on sarcasm.”
“That doesn’t make sense, which, according to Pepper, means you need a shower. Pepper is about the only one who makes any sense around here, by the way.”
“While I shower, could you take a look at my blueprint? Cross the Ts, dot the Is, that old song and dance?”
Was that something Pepper did? You were getting good at answering the phone calls – scheduling, making people happy, sending Tony to the right locations, that seemed like something a PA would do. Looking over the technology that Tony Stark designed seemed a bit extreme.
But who were you to tell him no?
“Sure,” you said, “I’ll do my best.”
Tony’s groan as he got up from the couch was the only answer, but you were just glad he was getting up. You’d be late for a speech made at a new lab they were opening up, but at least they were one step closer to getting there.
“Hey, JARVIS, would you mind showing me the blueprint Mr. Stark was talking about?”
“Of course, agent. Please find it on the main screen.”
You don’t think you’d ever get used to the holographic table in front of you. You could probably stare at it all week and poke at the images for another month. It was just so cool. But, you had a job to do, and thee Tony Stark asking you to look at something he designed seemed pretty important.
“The Jericho missile?” You asked yourself, head tilting as you looked at it, “that’s a bit on the nose.”
But perhaps that was the point.
You were a network expert slash programmer. Engineering wasn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. But, growing up poor, you’d do what you have to do fix something. A door, a window, a car… You learned how to fix anything through trial and error.
So, you pretended this was a very complicated car part and… Dumbed it down, pulling it apart piece by piece. There was a goal with this missile, something that bugged you, but if there was a goal you knew what the finish line looked like. The faster you got to the finish line, the more you won.
“JARVIS,” you asked after a while, “could you reduce this section by… I dunno… Like, five percent? Does that effect the trajectory?”
“Calculating,” your eyes never left the screen as you looked it over, but you paced back and forth, feeling something in your chest at the idea of fixing this exact problem. You wanted to do right by your boss, by yourself, and it was really driving you crazy that you could possibly do something... Unmentionable. Who were you to be a part of a weapon design?
“The simulation is complete, agent." JARVIS said, interrupting your thoughts. "Would you like to see a side-by-side difference?”
“Oh,” you said, oddly surprised that JARVIS could do that, “yes, please. Have I mentioned you’re great?”
“A few times. Thank you.”
With that, he ran the simulation. Your minuscular change had done something, that was for sure. The separate pieces managed to hit a wider scale than the original. Interesting, but the goal wasn’t clear, you realized. Maybe if-
“I’m keeping her.”
You screamed. Seriously, you screamed so loud that you slapped a hand to your mouth, stifling it. You hadn’t heard the… The two of them – both Tony and Pepper, staring at you – and you wondered wildly how long they had been standing there. God, what would they both think?
“She’s not a pet, Tony.”
“I’m so sorry,” you said, “I, uh… I get… Engineering isn’t really… I should probably stick to…”
“Oi, girl genius, keep your cool,” Mr. Stark said, stepping front of the hologram and humming, “JARVIS, next time tell me when I miss the small things. I don’t like looking dumb in front of new people. I’m the smartest in the room, don’t forget that.”
“I will endeavor to do so, sir,” JARVIS said, this time his sarcasm on point, “perhaps agent had simply dotted an I.”
“Perhaps, says he,” Tony said, winking at you, “come on, sleeper agent, you’re gonna explain to me why you thought that would work while Pepper gets me on a private jet.”
“You’ll be meeting James Rhodes, Stark Industries’ military consultant,” Pepper said, handing you… An outfit? “from my closet, since we don’t have time to get your measurements. But it was modified a little by my personal stylist to fit you. You’ll be minding Mr. Stark at the military banquet.”
“I’m going,” you stammered out, your head reeling, “I haven’t-”
“Oohh agent in a dress? Now I’m intrigued.”
That snapped you right out of it.
“One single mention of my legs and I’ll hit you.”
“So your very nice ass is free to discuss?”
Needless to say, it was two women that hit Tony on the arm. It was with a smirk that the man ran away after that, grumbling something about the workforce and the women he surrounded himself with. Honestly, he was a five-year-old.
“He’s got a point, you know,” Pepper muttered to you as you took a peek at the navy blue dress that cost more than your entire apartment complex, “you kind of are a sleeper agent.”
“I’m just…” You shrugged, “good at solving problems.”
Pepper hummed in agreement, “good, that’s what you’ll be doing.”
And then she was leaving with a click of her heels and you… Well, you were following after a Mister Tony Stark, once again wondering what your life had become.
James Rhodes was nice.
No, really! There weren’t many men that had you immediately relaxing, but James had a way of making you feel welcomed. He was obviously a military man but he was also best friends with Tony, which was reflected in them giggling like school girls.
He also greeted you with a firm handshake, kindly echoing your name as if to actually remember it, which you think he really was doing.
“Pepper’s protégé,” he said, “is someone worth knowing.”
“Eh-eh, don’t trust those doe eyes of hers, agent knows more than she lets on.”
James shot Tony a look, “you go around insulting women now, Tones? Really?”
“Ah, no,” you said, feeling a need to defend him, “don’t worry. I let him.”
“She’s a genius hidden in a drop-dead gorgeous body,” Tony said excitedly, as if you were a new toy he had found, “And she found me.”
You knew what you looked like. You weren’t a model, you weren’t a stick figure, and you certainly weren’t the prettiest woman Tony Stark had ever met. You’d taken up cross fit after the whole business with your ex, gained a lot of muscle, and looked like you belonged in some freak shop rather than next to someone as handsome as Tony Stark.
But the jokes, despite being a tad degrading, were almost welcomed in a very my boss is making jokes about me kind of way.
“Did you know that Tony was actually raised outside?” James said, making you smile, “I mean it. I mean, begging on the street, doing anything he had to do to survive… It’s why his manners are shit.”
“Manners, smanners, Rhodes,” Tony said, “come on, don’t we have hands to shake or something. Ugh, someone get me a drink.”
A drink appeared with a puff of smoke. Okay, a waiter had heard him and had immediately rushed to hand him some champagne, which was magic within itself, but you watched a little disbelievingly as the young waiter disappeared a moment later, as if he never existed.
“I’ll go shake hands, you sit the fuck down and not make a scene,” James said with some heat to Tony, then turning to you, “and it was nice to meet you. I hope he’s not too much.”
“Are you seeing General Myers?” You asked, feeling yourself slide back into your professional role, “he’s the last signature we need to get the Jericho Missile preapproved before an actual sit down.”
James’s eyebrow was nearly up to his forehead, “you’ve only been here a week?”
“Mine,” Tony said, and it did not sound like a joke, “she’s mine. Get your military hands off of her. Get! Shoo. Go make money, honey bear.”
“Don’t you make enough of it?”
Tony laughed and then immediately stopped, “no.”
James rolled his eyes, but he was looking at you, “I’ll get that signature, don’t worry.”
“Thank you,” you said, hoping it was the right words, “it really was nice meeting you.”
“You too,”
And then he was gone to mingle with a crowd of people you only really knew from photographs and newspapers. You had never liked going into any situation blind and you had known about this event after looking over Mr. Stark’s calendar. You were new to this world, but you had always adapted fast to things.
Tony turned to look at you, his mouth opening, but someone had cut him off.
“Ah, Tony’s new PA,” a deep voice said.
You turned just enough to get a glimpse of this new person. Obidiah Stane, your mind reminded you, recognizing him immediately. This was someone that Tony held a lot of respect for, which in turn made you read every single thing about him.
Some of it you didn’t like. Some of the interviews hadn’t sat right with you. He seemed very alpha male, very aggressive, and his boisterous sale pitch of Stark Industries’ weapons was almost too much. You just didn’t get a good vibe.
But that meant nothing. You’d trust Mr. Stark’s personal opinion more than your own.
“Hello, Mr. Stane,” you greeted with a polite smile, ignoring the chills you got as he gripped your hand tightly, “it’s nice to meet you.”
“Tony,” he said in a joking tone, “Potts was a spitfire, you’ve gone to the other end of it.”
Tony came next to you, shoulder to shoulder, something you really, really appreciated, “oh trust me, my arm begs to differ.”
You paled, but you pretended to hide it, “I told you, no HR disasters.”
Stane laughed, something obnoxiously loud, and you almost found yourself looking around to make sure others weren’t watching. The venue was stunning, of course, and while you were currently in the lobby, it was hard to miss the eyes on you.
“You’ll fit right in,” Stane said, wagging a finger at you, “keeping Tony inline is a hell of a task, hope you’re up for it.”
“I am,” you said as confidently as you could, “but Mr. Stark is plenty capable of doing his job.”
That felt wrong – as if you were defending your brand-new boss too strongly. Stane was looking at you though in a way that made very little sense, too, which only made the words even more justified. He gave you the creeps, that was the only way to describe it.
“Could I have everyone please find your seating. Once again, could I have everyone please find your seating. Thank you.”
“You sitting with us, old man?” Tony asked Stane and, despite yourself, you felt a rather large amount of relief at Stane denying it, saying he had places to be.
You watched as Stane walked away, needing to make sure he was actually leaving. You felt nervous, almost disgusted for some reason, and you didn’t like that one single man had that power over you.
“Oh yes, thank you, more champagne, how wonderful. Two? Don’t mind if I do, thanks.”
You rolled your eyes.
It was going to be a long night.
James assured you that everything went well – and that he got General Myers on board.
But dragging Tony in a death grip and trying to make it look like he was the one leading you towards the car felt like an impossible thing. You wondered how Pepper had done it looking so stunning in the tabloids and felt a rather sharp jealousy. You had an expressive face and you knew your fear was clearly written on it.
“We gotta drive, agent,” Mr. Stark reminded you as you pawed at his jacket to get his keys, “Gotta get… Get Rhodey. He can drive.”
“Nope,” James answered, materializing behind you, “I’ve got a ride. This is your own fault.”
“I’m driving,” You grumbled, “It’s an hour to the jet, right? Off in Jersey?”
James looked uncertain very quickly, “Happy hadn’t come with you? He can’t come get you?”
“And leave the car, Rhodey,” Tony said with a very large trace of horror, “my baby.”
Again, you rolled your eyes. It was a new habit of yours. Mr. Stark seemed to have an entire college degree in Pissing You Off. You knew he meant well most of the time but you were quickly learning that his level of care about most things was very, very low.
“It’s a manual,” James reminded you, as if you didn’t know, “You can drive a manual?”
Your ire came out too quick to put a dampener on it, “I’m a lady and I can drive a manual. Call the news.”
Tony let out a giggle – he seemed to do that a lot when he was drunk, “she told you, honey bear. A feminist after my own heart.”
You opened the passenger door for him, because he missed three times, and practically body slammed him into the small sports car, currently unnamed until someone actually released the model. Money could buy you anything, apparently.
“My father was a mechanic,” you told Rhodey, trying to make up for your tone, “I got this, don’t worry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-”
“Pepper’s chewed my ear off too,” James said, opening the door for you, a slurring Tony rambling about something just hitting your ears. It’d be a long night back to the jet, and an even longer one on the jet. You were so thankful Pepper was still handling the business side of things.
You climbed in delicately, kicking off your heels as you did so. You really weren’t worried about driving this beautiful million-dollar car – if you thought about it, you were actually excited. It was very pretty… And fast.
“I’ll call you later,” James said, as if it was a forethought, “just to make sure you got there alright.”
“He cares!” Tony said, his head bobbing, “Rhodey-bear cares. So cute.”
“Not for you, that’s for sure,” James said, watching as you started the car and adjusted the seat, “seriously, shoot me a message.”
“Will do,” you said, making sure to add it into your schedule, “it was nice meeting you.”
“Mine!” Tony said, confusing you, “my PA. My agent.”
“HR territory, Mr. Stark,” You said, giving James one last smile, “continue that and I’ll have to be team Rhodes, won’t I?”
James shook his head, “you fit right in here. It was great to meet you.”
And then he closed the door for you, like a gentlemen, and you were alone with a drunk boss in a very expensive car in a dress that wasn’t even yours. A week ago you were selling the normal kind of cell phones, with coworkers that had their own little personal problems. You had considered getting a cat or a dog, that was gone.
Things happened so fast.
“It’s in neutral. Not gonna go anywhere in neutral.”
“Mr. Stark,” You said, revving the engine.
He hummed a happy note.
“This is revenge for all the times you’ve driven me this week.”
And you gunned it, speeding out of the parking lot as if something was chasing you.
He screamed and put his hands to the roof the car– and then yelled in pure joy as you rushed down New York State backroads. He even opened the windows, his head sticking out like a dog. How he didn’t puke, you didn’t know, but you laughed as you went down the winding roads.
Music came next, watching him fumble as he tuned the radio to, of course, classic rock… And the two of you sang your lungs out, having the time of your life.
“Agent,” Mr. Stark said in between a commercial, while you had slowed down to a reasonable legal speed, “that was fucking awesome.”
You shrugged your shoulders, going for casual, “you ever gonna call me by my real name?”
“Nah,” he said, “you’re too badass for that.”
Well, that was a great compliment by Tony Stark. Who the hell were you to argue with him?
“You have a five o’clock with the Spring Art Foundation-”
“Buy it, resell it, give the money away.”
“No, an event, Mr. Stark. Pepper said yes therefore you said yes. You’re going.”
“How are the designs for the life model decoy of me?”
“Oh yeah, that’ll be done in the good year of 2085, don’t worry. Your legacy will live on, etc. etc.”
“You’re very sassy, you know that?”
“Well say yes to events that you already said yes to and I might not be. Oh, and Pepper is due to leave on Saturday. She wanted to have dinner with us on Friday. A normal dinner.”
“I dunno, feelings? I don’t do feelings, agent. Can’t you go in my place? You can act like me, you got it down already!”
“You’re going. This is Pepper. She worked for you for six years. She’s put up with you for six years. And you’re buying her dinner.”
“Hold this, will you?”
He gave you a wrench and, with a sigh, you put down the work you were doing. Pepper had handed over the business side of things last week, with her careful eyes on everything. You think you forged Tony’s signature more than Tony had ever written it.
Not that you had any idea what Tony’s signature looked like, of course!
“Damn thing is cross threading.”
“Well when you pound it in with an air gun, it’s gonna do that.”
“Alright, smart aleck, you do it then.”
“Fine,” you said back, “you go over the business proposal on the table then.”
“Fine!”
Hook, line, and sinker. He was just like your brothers – if you tormented them enough or called them out, they’d leap to show you that they were capable of anything.
“My god. JARVIS. JARVIS? I’ve been emotionally manipulated! She got what she wanted!”
You laughed as you manually threaded the correct bolt for the engine mount, your hands already covered in grease in oil by doing this one thing. Which was fine – you had no plans until three to get to the event in time. You had thought there’d be more time for Tony to actually create things, but it seemed the name was constantly moving from one social event to another.
“Tones!”
“Rut-row,” Mr. Stark said with a Scooby-Doo accent, looking at you with pleading eyes as James let himself down in to the personal lab, “buzzkill is here.”
“Hey, agent! You’ve made the news!”
You did what now?
You marched over to James at top speed, taking the magazine and staring at… God, staring at you of all things, leading Tony down the very same stairs you had been worried about in New York. There was a hint of nervousness on your face, just as you feared, and you almost hated that Tony looked pristine next to you.
“The media thinks you two are thing,” James said, sighing, “They did the same with Pep, of course. You’d think they’d chose a different route.”
“Playboy days finally over?” You read out loud, scoffing, “they catch me at one event and suddenly you’re a married man, Mr. Stark.”
“You offering,” Tony asked, “I’m honored but-”
“You’re married to you work, right?” You answered for him, “and did you even sign the business proposal? I got your stupid bolt in.”
Tony looked genuinely shocked, “What? I thought-”
“Try using the right sized bolt next time,” you hinted to him, tempted to wink but holding back, “amateur hour over here, James.”
Tony looked utterly destroyed, mouth opening in closing, and that was enough for James to completely lose it. The laughter was loud in the lab as you grabbed at a rag, wanting to check over the rest of the calendar. How Pepper did this 24/7 without having a breakdown, you did not know.
“You’re coming with us to Afghanistan.”
You flinched, looking over at James, “I’m what?”
“For the Jericho Missile, he means,” Tony continued, looking over your work, “the demonstration. You helped, you should come. Can’t promise it’d be fun, but less time in the office if you can’t actually get there.”
“if you want me to, I’ll go,” you answered easily, “that’s kind of the job.”
“Fantastic,” James said, “I’m driving. I saw how you pulled out of that parking lot. The two of you are menaces.”
The phone rang, yet another company trying to get a sit down with Tony, and you sighed as you answered it, walking away from the two.
“Release a statement about you lovebirds not being lovebirds, will you?”
“Why?” You asked Pepper, trying very hard not to wolf down Tony’s shockingly good spaghetti, “won’t it be better to just let it ride? People are going to figure out I’m his PA.”
“It’s a win-lose situation, yes,” Pepper answered, “but it might be better to attempt to nip it in the bud now.”
This was a bit strange, you had to admit. Pepper had said dinner and you had assumed you’d be in some fancy restaurant in some expensive dress with very pointy heels. But no, Pepper had wanted to sit down at the kitchen table that you did not think was ever used… And she had wanted a homecooked meal.
Tony had moaned all morning about it but had begun cutting tomatoes almost immediately, a pot suddenly on the stove that you were also sure had only been used once. He worked as he always did, like a tornado, and your job as a sous chef was more of housecleaning than anything else. And he complained the whole time until you relented and let him play very loud music.
“Hey,” he said, distracting you, “no work talk at my kitchen table - over my slaved over pasta sauce. I have yet to hear thank you’s.”
“You can’t demand thank you’s, Tony. But yes, thank you. It was very thoughtful.”
Tony slowly turned his head to you, horror movie style, and you huffed, “thank you. It’s annoyingly good.”
“How’s your dad, Pepper?” You asked, genuinely wanting to know and also interrupting Tony’s rant, “is he still in the rehab center?”
“Back home now, thank god,” Pepper answered, “thank you for asking. He’ll need a lot of therapy after his stroke but hopefully he pulls through.”
“Father Pepper will surely recover,” Tony said, pouring Pepper yet another glass of wine, “you told me once that he was the one to give you all of your spunk.”
Pepper looked surprised, “I did. I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember a lot of things!” Tony said indignantly, “you two don’t give me enough credit.”
Maybe you didn’t. That was an alarming thought, that Tony had somehow managed to slip under your critical eye. He was still an enigma even after nearly a month of seeing him every day. By now, you’d normally know the ins and outs of a person’s personality.
“For example!”
Tony dramatically reached – or really just reached into his jacket, because he did everything with a dramatic flair – and you watched as he pulled out a single sheet of paper… And proceeded to try and hand it to you.
You squinted his eyes at him, “it’s Pepper’s night, not mine. I know you get confused easily.”
“Easy there, short stack,” he said, “This is by Pepper’s request.”
So, with a glance at Pepper’s small smile, you took the piece of paper.
“Notice of payment of bill,” you read out loud, “Payment in full to Saint Theresa’s Medical Center.”
Payment in full.
Payment.
In.
Full.
You felt as if your brain was going to explode. You re-read the words, looking at your name next to that small little zero. This must have been a dream. It was the only thing that made sense. Maybe you had died.
“What,” you managed to get out, looking first to Tony, then to Pepper, then back and forth until the two of them practically became one, “what?”
“We ran a credit check, which you signed when you first joined.”
You did? Why the hell would they hire you if you did? Your credit was tanked due to the very bill they had paid off. You hadn’t gotten a credit card ever in your life. Your car was bought with the cash you saved up through odd and ends jobs.
“Twenty-three thousand dollars,” you choked out, blinking through a daze, “it was so much money. Why? Why would you…?”
“Consider it a sign on bonus,” Tony said, as if this was easy, “and my desire to keep you. Can I make the joke now? You’re mine. Ha.”
You almost let him have the joke, just this once. You considered the ramifications of ‘money can buy happiness’ and then wondered if Tony Stark understood that more than you thought.
“HR, Mr. Stark,” You said, holding back tears of all things, “tomorrow morning. I’ll pencil it in.”
“You’re unbelievable,” he said, completely joking and looking delighted meanwhile, “gimme the paper. You’re holding it as if it’s going to blow.”
“Thank you,” you said to both of them, dully handing the paper to Tony, who squished it into a ball, “I would have stayed even without this. This… This feels like a bribe. Is it a bribe?”
“No,” Pepper answered, “purely business. A credit score isn’t as private as one thinks, especially in a business like this.”
That actually wasn’t disheartening at all. You didn’t want to be… You weren’t sure… To be so thankful to Tony Stark that it became awkward. You were thankful but you didn’t want to be because you had put him on a pedestal.
“Thank you,” you said to both of them, “business or not, it does mean a lot. I mean… Just… Thank you.”
“Feelings,” Tony moaned, “here, drink wine! Yay, wine!”
Yay wine.
“I’m staying,” you said as you sipped at the wine – gulped down the wine, “I was staying already. And, with that said, I know you two want some time alone.”
With that, you got up from your seat, giving Pepper a big smile, “thank you, Miss Potts. I hope you don’t mind if I call you every once in a while.”
“You don’t need help,” Pepper said kindly, “you’ve done better than any other person I interviewed.”
“Oh, thank you,” you said, surprised that she would give out a compliment like that so easily, “but mostly I meant to complain about him to someone who gets it.”
Pepper laughed immediately, shaking her head fondly and pointing at Tony, who was looking rather like a kicked puppy at you.
“Get out of my house!” Mr. Stark said, literally shooing you away, “What did Rhodey call you? A menace? You’re a menace!”
“You need to be on an airplane in nine hours, Mr. Stark,” you reminded him, “and you will be on that plane.”
“Get!”
And get you did, a smile so wide on your face you wondered if you really did look like you lost your mind.
It really did feel like a new start, didn’t it?