Iron-Hawk Short Stories

Cases (Detective AU)

Thank you, guys, for the support whoever is reading this book. If you guys don't mind, I wanna do an AU? Do something different?

Anthony Edward Stark was nothing short of a great detective. Although his work ethic was questionable he caught anybody that was asked of him. He worked at a well-established firm and he was undoubtedly the best there. Nobody told him that though, it fed into his already large enough ego.

"You said you wanted cases?" His boss Nick Fury prompted as he stepped into Stark's clustered office. Stark groaned as he pushed his head off the desk, he tiredly glanced at his boss who glared at him. "Are you drunk?"

"Always am." Tony smiled as if that was something to be a proud of, "And I said I wanted interesting cases."

"Is one issued by the CIA interesting enough for you?" Fury asked as placed the file in front of Tony. The detective picked up the thin file and opened it. There was a profile of a man with very minimal information. Judging just from a quick look, it was a dead end. "As you can probably tell, they haven't found a lead on this guy for months."

Stark let out a large sigh and ran his hand through his hair, "I'll see what I can do. No promises though."

"You know how to defend yourself right?"

Tony narrowed his eyes, then glanced down at the file once again. In bold next to the target's name it said ASSASSIN. It had been a while since Stark had been in a physical fight and to possibly go into a fight with an assassin non-other the less.

His fighting skills weren't horrendous, he just needed a refresher. Just for extra measures a gun.

"You could always just bring out the suit." Fury suggested as he turned his back.

"We both know that's a pet project that's nowhere near completed." Stark muttered as he cleared a couple of items off his desk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of homework."

----->

Tony investigated Hell's kitchen, the last known location of his target. There wasn't much on him other than the alias, Hawkeye. There wasn't even a photo. All descriptions of the man were different and therefore indefinite.

Stark hummed a song to himself as he studied the rooftop area. He looked over the edge, taking in the surrounding area. Then he laid down on his stomach, before he studied the area once again. This was the perfect spot for any sniper to take out targets.

He stood up and pressed a button on his sunglasses. The piece of technology gave a reading of the area, picking up miss-able clues. There was a blood stain on the floor, as he tried to match the blood to a person, there were no matches. He cursed to himself and made sure the DNA was registered into the system.

He took off his glasses and tucked them into the pocket square of his vest. He walked towards the door and walked back downstairs. He pulled out his phone and made notes, cross referencing them to any information that he had.

He needed a drink and for once it wasn't in the context of alcohol. He just wanted coffee.

He walked out of the building in search of a café. Twelve minutes later he stumbled into a small café that was practically the size of his office at work (basically it wasn't big). There was only one staff worker, he was behind the bench on his mobile phone.

He noticed Tony's presence and turned off his phone. Stark walked towards the counter and made a quick order. As he waited he took in the appearance of the barista. He looked like a typical hipster, he wore big framed glasses and had tattoos on different parts of his arm. He also had hearing aids and an adorable smile.