La Petite Fleur

Visitor

"Well, that's no way to greet a friend," Tony Stark said, pushing past Steve into the apartment. "Where's the damsel in distress?"

Steve gritted his teeth in agitation. "You haven't answered me, Stark."

"No, I guess I haven't. Don't think I will." The cocky billionaire made his way to the living room where he flashed a grin at Antoinette. Steve felt his insides boiling. She looked hesitantly between the two men before sitting up a little straighter.

"Steve?" The way she said his name, higher pitched than usual and with a break in the middle, unnerved him for some reason.

He heaved a sigh before sitting on the edge of the unoccupied sofa cushion. "Antoinette, this is Tony Stark, SHIELD consultant and inventor of the Ironman suit."

"Uh, I am Ironman," he corrected. Tony faced Steve and motioned with his head for them to leave the room.

He hesitated before glancing at Antoinette. "I'll be back," he told her before getting up and following his annoying visitor down the hall to the bedroom.

Tony closed the door behind them, staring defiantly up at Steve. "Fury sent me," he started. Before Steve could interrupt, he held up a hand and continued. "He says he underestimated whoever wants the girl, so he's pulling some strings. He has an ally undercover here as the instructor. There's a notice being sent as we speak that the ballet, despite its little mishap, will be traveling around France to perform at cities all over the country. And of course, the girl goes with them."

"But-"

"Oh you'll still see her." Stark smirked and leaned against the wall. "He's just getting her away from Paris for awhile. You're being recalled to the Helicarrier."

"What?" Steve couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did Fury think he wasn't doing well enough? Didn't Fury trust him? "And what if the assassins follow her? I won't be there to help her when she needs me."

"Needs you?" Tony scoffed. "I've read her file, Cap. She doesn't need anyone. All that girl needs is a pen and she can have you at her mercy. I'm surprised she hasn't killed you yet. Or maybe-"

"Shut up," he snapped.

A trademark smirk spread across Tony's scheming face. "Ooh, caught feelings for the girl already?"

"I said shut up." He forced himself to take a deep breath before continuing more calmly. "But whoever wrote her file was exaggerating. She's athletic, but she doesn't know how to fight. She told me that Fury never taught her because it might compromise her cover. I don't know who wrote that file, but it's not true."

"Coulson wrote her file, Rogers. He trained her. I think he knew what she was capable of. And I trust his word far more than the word of some girl." Stark pointed his finger back in the direction of the living room.

"Exactly. Yeah, Coulson trained her, yeah, he wrote her file, but he also raised her. From what she's told me-"

"Yes! Stop right there! 'What she's told you.' You can't rely on her word alone. Of course she'll pretend to be innocent, that's what assassins do."

"I trust her, Stark!" Steve lowered his voice, not wanting the general volume to rise in case Antoinette heard them. "She can't even defend herself. I'm pretty sure that she'd give up playing pretend if it meant she could be safe. She almost died twice already. Besides, if she could do everything it says in her file, Fury wouldn't have needed me here to begin with."

A muscle in Tony's jaw tightened. He knew Steve was right, he just didn't want to admit it.

"If that's all you were here for, then you can leave now," Steve told him.