The Nikki Wolf Chronicles || Avengers

CHAPTER (12) TWELVE

"Can I leave now?" he whines.

"No."

"Everyone else is in Boston looking for Hawkeye! I want to be with them."

"Tony, you only told Steve," Pepper reminds him.

"I bet you Director Deadpan knows. And he would tell everyone to go and get him."

Pepper massages her temples. "Just eat. You'll be hungry in an hour." She pushes his plate of food back to him that Tony had been denying to touch.

He crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm not eating your food until you say I can go out."

Pepper closes her eyes. "I'm going to bed. Stay here." She leaves the kitchen, and Tony stares glumly at his hands.

His stomach grumbles. Reaching for the salt, he pinches a bit on the sliced roast beef. Then he sprinkles a bit of pepper on his creamy mashed potatoes. Finally, he adds honey to the biscuit on the side of the platter.

"There. Perfect," he smiles, thinking of the late dinner as his own creation, and not Pepper's. A loop hole in my protest.

He tucks in while thinking if he should call Fury or not. Ironically, the Director is thinking the same thing. Even more curious is that they both pick their phones up at the same time, and dial each other's numbers. It goes to voice mail for each of them.

"Hey, Nick, maybe you want me in Boston? I'll find Clint," Tony whispers, making sure Pepper isn't outside the door. Then he hangs up.

A minute later, Tony hears a beep. He looks down and sees a flashing notification. Holding down 1, he's launched into his voice message box.

"Stark. Clint Barton has been found-- I've sent him and Agent Romanoff on a side-project that Thor thinks is key. Come to S.H.I.E.L.D. when you can."

Tony leans back, clasping his fingers, a foreboding simper taking control of his mouth.

--- --- ---

"So. Who paid you?" Director Nick Fury asks the blue-eyed man. Fury, with his eye patch, dark skin, and flapping over coat, appears sinister. Clint assures me there's nothing to worry about.

"Another man. He... He kind of looks like me. I promise! But, his eyes were... a glassy green. Mine are blue! Do you see? I'm not your guy!"

"And you just took the money and ran?"

"I've never seen that much money in cash. I need it! My wife died in a car crash a year ago. My two children are living with their grandparents, because I can hardly afford to pay for our meals. But, now I can!"

"I'm sorry, sir. This money is counterfeit," another Avenger, the dark-haired one, says.

When Clint and I had arrived back at S.H.I.E.L.D., we were met by two others who go by Bruce and Steve. At first, they both thought I was a new recruited agent, until Clint explained the entirety of the situation.

"No," he says. "No, it can't be! This was going to be my lucky break!" I have to turn away. He looks so heart broken that it gnaws at my mind. I wish I could do something for him, but there's nothing I would be able to do.

I know tears are streaming down his face, but I refuse to look. From the corner of my eye, I see Steve tilt his head to the left and rub the right side of his neck. Not sure what to do from here, I walk forward and leave-- no one stops me.

I'm sitting in the room S.H.I.E.L.D. has offered to me. The building is new, Fury tells me. To assure me, he mentioned they haven't replaced the big ship in the sky, just made a more stable foundation. Frankly, I have no idea what he's talking about with the flying boat, but I nodded, anyway.