Playing With Fire (EDITING)

Necessary Detour

"I did nothing of the sort!" I snapped.

"Oh really?" Fury drawled, grabbing Stark's collar with one hand. Without sparing him a glance, the director hauled Tony up and pushed him in the direction of the jet. "Get it ready. Once they're on, we need to be in the air. We don't know when those monsters will be back."

My mind whirred to life, absorbing the situation and each factor that could lean this standoff either way. With Tony on the jet, that left Fury and Thor to deal with. Kitty and Megan together could take Thor, but that was a stretch. Any combination of Han, Kurt, and I could stop Fury, but all three together was riskier. If one of us was left standing, they could see the weak spots and help where needed. Too bad Doug was unconscious; he could've called out instructions and open spots.

For now, I'd play the only card I knew Fury would fall for. He wanted to talk? Fine. We'd talk. If I could stall long enough, maybe Doug would come to.

Grandpére's first rule of stalling returned to my mind with the accompanying spice of firs and crushed Canadian pine needles. Always begin with a question. Your opponent feels obliged to answer even if they do not answer the question itself. As they speak, you will hear your answer in what they avoid. "Why are you here?" I demanded.

"To collect on a broken promise."

"I don't make promises with the devil," I snapped back.

"You stole from me, Barton."

I raised an eyebrow and felt the tendons in my hand strain around the hilt of my sword. "So now I'm a liar and a thief? Harsh accusations coming from the man who spends his days working how to lie and steal and employs liars and stealers. Am I better or worse than Romanoff? She's been lying her entire life to steal information for you. And for what? A new nuclear missile the government will build then lose control of anyway?"

Keep your temper, Grandpére's voice advised. Your opponent will make you angry. Bon. Use it. But don't blow up. With a deep, lung-stretching breath I gathered my wits and reigned in my temper.

Fury's reply came in low, measured tones that caused Kurt to fidget at my side. "Romanoff is an agent- a better agent than you could ever hope to be- and she has saved lives with the information she gathers."

Gathers. He avoided using the word steal, so I knew I'd hit a mark.

He continued, "You cannot accuse those who do good of being in the wrong simply to justify your own faults."

"I don't bother trying to justify anything anymore. I'm faulted, I'm warped, I'm screwed up in so many ways it isn't funny. But I don't bother covering my scars with futile patches. You can't make your shadow disappear, director." I spat his title like a watermelon seed.

Another mark hit. His eye narrowed to a slit, and he took two threatening steps forward. "Don't poke your beak where it knows nothing of what it caws about." His words stung, but I kept my face emotionless. "I may not erase my shadow, but you're stuck with a shadow too. And I must say, mine isn't hell bent on killing me."

"At least I can keep my shadow under control. Can't say as much for you."

Kurt sucked his teeth as he tried to hide a smirk. "That's enough!" Fury roared, removing a pistol from its holster at his side. "I know your tricks, Barton, and they end now. If you want any information concerning your father, you'll come with us without a fight."

He had information about Papére? Tearing the grass under the heels of my boots, I spun to see Megan and Kitty, Han and Kurt. Tension tied taut wires between our gazes. Loyalty would be tested, but I trusted my friends to stay. "Parrain?" My own voice sounded terribly feeble and helpless. Was this what I had been reduced to?