Monster

Twenty

The next morning, I had to call Morgan/Megan for a ride to work. I'd been accidentally calling her both names, and she still hadn't bothered to correct me. I was starting to feel guilty for not knowing, but it had gone on too long to ask now. I was going to have to sneak into her cubby in the back and find her ID at this point. Even other waiters didn't use her name. She never wrote it on her orders. Just marked it with her initials like the rest of us.

When I stepped outside to wait for her, there was already a car parked in my driveway–a shiny black thing with an obnoxiously large red bow on the roof. I shut the front door and huffed.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered to myself as I crossed the lawn. I ripped the tag off the bow. I didn't need to read it to know where it had come from, but I wanted to be extra sure. I only knew one person who could deliver a brand-new car overnight.

"Temporary," the tag said. "Your sister says it's temporary. It's temporary. Just put that on the card. Love Stark or something." Since it was printed, Jarvis was probably responsible for making the tag, and Tony either hadn't bothered to double-check it or he thought it was funny.

I groaned anyway and yanked down the entire bow before anyone could see it. Then I dragged it back into the house to call Tony and let Morgan/Megan know I wouldn't need a ride after all.

"Yep?" Tony answered on the first ring. Because a simple "hello" wasn't cool enough for him, apparently.

"The car in my driveway. Is it yours or Hydra's?"

"That depends. Is she sexy?" I leaned over the couch to take a peek at it through the blinds. It was nondescript enough that it wasn't a sports car. But as far as sedans went–she was real sexy.

"Yeah, actually."

"Then she's mine. It has a better computer than your–well, your computer. No bombs. Access to Jarvis."

"And it's temporary, right? I don't think you made that clear enough."

"Just a loan. Unless you don't want it to be. Your sister said I had to call it a loan and reminded me that it's inappropriate to buy cars for your girlfriend's sister."

"She's right. But I'm not going to say no. You're still a big child in a shiny suit, though." I headed back outside now that I knew the car wasn't going to explode. "I mean that with love, of course."

"Good, because that's how I took it. But I should remind you that you're the one with people blowing up your cars."

"You know what? You were on their radar before I was, okay? And you have no room to talk because someone is trying to kill you every other weekend."

"That's fair."

"Where are the keys? I have to get to work."

"Fingerprint."

"You have my fingerprint? Are you kidding me? This is some grade-A stalker behavior, Tony. Should I be worried?"

"Someone forgot to eat her Wheaties this morning." I set my hand on the door handle, and a little stripe of light read my prints so quickly I barely had to wait. It unlocked, and I slid into the soft leather bucket of a seat. The interior was also completely black, mostly leather, with neat silver trim and a screen in the center of the dash. The finger pad definitely looked like a scanner.

"I'm sorry," I said, mostly meaning it. "I've had a rough couple of days. A rent-a-car would have covered at least three Christmas gifts."

"I have access to your fingerprints because you're a former SHIELD agent. And I gave you the car because–I don't know if you know this–but you were personally targeted by a terrorist organization. And the car scans for bombs." I shut the door and pulled the seat forward so I could reach the gas.

"Well, thank you, Tony. I really do appreciate it. And I'll give the car back when I can afford a new one. Or when I can make payments."

"The only way you'd be able to afford that car is if you came to work for me. Consider it a business perk."

I pressed my forehead against the black leather steering wheel. It was so tempting. If it wasn't for Bucky, I probably would have taken it and gone back inside to pack my bags. But I couldn't just leave him hanging. I had to know he was okay before I accepted a job at one of the most secure buildings in the world. A building he'd never be able to get into unnoticed.

"I can't–not right now."

"I know. But the job is yours when you want it."

"Thanks, Tony. Tell Clara I said hi."

"Will do. Have a good day, and try not to piss anyone off today, please?"

"Same goes for you." He snickered and ended the call without saying goodbye. I pressed my finger to the scanner pad, and the engine hummed to life, purring like a kitten.

"Whoa," I said out loud. The screen in the center of the dash lit up with the engine. A little greeting scrolled across, telling me to have a good morning. Signed by Jarvis. "Uh–Jarvis?" I asked, feeling like a moron for talking to a car.

"Yes, Miss Hayes?" the disembodied voice responded through unseen speakers. I almost jumped, even though I'd addressed him first.

"So I can just–talk to you whenever I want?"

"I don't know if I'll make a good conversationalist, but I'm always here if you need me."

"Cheeky robot."

"I'm not a robot, Miss Hayes."

"Right. Sorry."

"It's quite alright. Would you like me to find you a radio station? You now have access to satellite radio, and I have your preferences saved from your phone."

"That sounds–great? Go right ahead and put something on."

"Right away, Miss Hayes."

It was going to take me forever to get used to that.