Senseless ↠ Peter Parker

40

(Y/N POV)

Can't forget.

"Ethan please get Happy on the phone," I said, "he's been on lunch break for three hours."

"Yes miss Stark," the AI responded, "calling Happy Hogan."

I reprogrammed Friday's name to Ethan (Even Tony Had A Heart), but for the sake of it, I cut the last 'h' short and made it an N. I wasn't going to start yelling for Ethah anytime soon. At first I was thinking of changing the voice, but it occurred to me I'd miss the sound of Friday's smart-alec responses.

"Thank you," I said, "where's Fury?"

"Meeting room 104. Shall I let him know you're coming?"

"I'm pretty sure he knows."

Last night I received a call from him, and you know you should never ghost Nick Fury, asking to meet me at the tower for some 'business arrangement'. After the events of last year, everything my father owned passed down to me. I mean everything. What am I going to do with 49 suits and an alpaca named Gerald?

"Happy Hogan is on line 3, directing the call to you."

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pressed it up to my ear. It wasn't long before I heard the familiar sound of Happy's voice, and I could tell he was running.

"Why are you running?" I asked, "what happened to the car?"

"Car is in repairs," he said, "had to walk to lunch."

"Your usual lunch stop is a block away, why have you been gone for three hours?"

"I went to visit someone."

"That's fine, but make sure you tell me first next time. Nick Fury's in meeting room 104."

"NICK FURY?"

"Yep," I said, "I'll see you later, Hap."

Once I got out of the elevator, I made my way down the empty hallways and past the garage. I was about to pass by, but I couldn't help but look inside. Sure enough, Happy's car was still there, and definitely not in repairs.

If he went to visit someone three hours away, why wouldn't he take the car? Easy question, he doesn't want me to track him.

"Ethan," I called out, "Let Happy know I want to speak to him directly after I'm done with this meeting."

"Yes miss stark. He has just arrived."

"Perfect."

I made my way down the remainder of the hallway, my steps echoing on the tiled floor. Once I reached the room, the doors slid open and I saw Fury. He was sitting in the chair at the far end silently, watching my every move.

"Nick," I said, "normally I'd have you schedule an appointment, but this time I'll let you pass."

"I see you've taken up your father's sense of humor," he said, "shame I never found it funny."

I raised an eyebrow, "oh?"

"I'm here to ask a simple question," he started, "it shouldn't require much thought."

"I hope it doesn't require much time, either. I've got a press event in 15 minutes."

"The press can wait."

"What's the question, Fury?"

He pulled a small envelope out of his pocket, and slid it across the table towards me. I pressed my lips together as I picked it up. Fury and I weren't strangers, we met at the funeral a year ago.

He was there on behalf of S.H.E.I.L.D, supposedly to collect my father's will and earnings. Apparently they had an agreement about the shares since the very beginning, but that was before another Stark appeared.

So you can imagine his horror when he read my name in the will.

I don't blame him for disliking me, because imagine losing billions of promised money to a girl who didn't seem to even exist.

"Venice," he said bluntly, "you're needed."

I pulled out a plane ticket from the envelope, and stared at the date. It was set to fly in an hour, which I was in no mood to do.

"Sorry," I intoned, "I don't do hero."

"I didn't ask you to be one."

"Then why do I need to be in Italy?"

"When you took over the industry, did it not occur to you," he said, "that you own our weapons unit?"

"And?"

"That means you decide where to import products. But since you closed down international trade for the company, we can't bring our artillery anywhere outside of America."

I tucked the ticket into my back pocket, staring at the man down. It occurred to me that in all of the people he dealt with, I was the only in his way. Without my jurisdiction, S.H.E.I.L.D couldn't do anything. If they decided to Retract their investment in Stark Industries, they'd lose the most important partnership in the world.

Nick Fury was vulnerable.

"It's up for discussion," I said, "but why does this involve me going?"

"There's a problem in Venice," he stated, "and you're the only one who's smart enough to help."

I sighed, and made my way towards the door, "I'll think about it."

"You don't have time to think," He said, "every second you waste puts that city in danger."

"I'm sure it does," I said, "but I won't go anywhere until you answer my question."

"And what question is that?"

I narrowed my eyes, "Who are you?"

He stood up a little straighter, and cleared his throat. I tapped my foot, waiting for the man to answer.

"Nick Fury," he said.

"Tell me the truth, or you're not getting this permit."

"I told you the truth."

"Fine. Have fun in Venice," I scowled, "Ethan, detain him until he confesses."

"Yes miss Stark."

"WAIT-" the impersonator said, "Fine. I'm not Fury."

I turned back around and raised an eyebrow, "I'm aware of that."

"Talos," he said, "I'm a Skrull. Nick Fury sent me here to take his place in the meantime."

"Ethan, is he lying?"

"No change in pulse, he is telling the truth."

"Fine," I said, "I'll give you your permit."

I was about to leave the conference room, when Talos stopped me. I pursed my lips in annoyance, and waiting for him to say something else.

"How did you figure it out?" he asked.

"Two things. When I walked in this room, I addressed you by Fury's first name. We were never on a first-name basis. Second, you called me last night."

"I don't see how calling you gave anything away."

I smirked, and started to make my way out of the room for the last time.

"Nick Fury never calls," I said, "He just shows up."