Battle Of The Mind

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(Any words in French are translated in English right next to the word.)

A week later.

"Mr. Stark?" A tentative voice asks from behind me.

I turn around noticing a young woman, with big, uncertain eyes.

"Yes?"

"Umm, your presence has been requested upstairs." She squeaks out.

I audibly gron, "What does Fury want now?"

"Sir, it's not Fury."

I walk into the directed conference room cautiously. I notice a women wearing all black leather combat gear with assorted weapons attached to the sides and I relax. Currently, her back is facing me with her staring out the window.

"Hey Nat." I say with peaked interest as she has never come to speak directly to me before.

She slowly turns around and I curl up within myself. She is wearing a murderous frown, her eyes burn with fury and she is trying to restrain herself from ripping up the file she has in her hands.

"What is this about." I say, cautiously eyeing the multiple guns on her legs.

She has never ounce used them on a team mate, but I heard Banner got one in the face and while Bucky was the Winter Soldier he got shot with one of them and I don't exactly want to see how true those statements are. So I bit my tongue as she lashes out.

"Anthony what were you thinking!" She yells.

I wait for further explanation and she sighs, tossing the folder on the table between us. I pick up the folder and see a record of my break in to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s personal flies. I groan as I recall the memory. It was few days ago and I was desperate so I hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files myself hoping to lessen the rate of me getting caught. Turns out it lead to nothing. I flip through the file more and find the files that I had searched, all being of Serrure. Not many exist, but I still compiled a backstory.

"What exactly were you doing?" She says her voice deadly calm and serious.

"I think it's pretty clear what I was doing." I respond tossing the folder on the table.

"Then what do you expect to gain from this knowledge." She says again, deadly calm.

"I was investigating him, he is an unknown quantity." I say.

"You were not just investigating him." She looks me dead in the eyes as she says, "You were and still might be obsessed with him."

I take a step back, shocked, as I scoff out, "I am not obsessed with him."

"You forget that I know you Stark." She moves around the table coming closer, "I know what makes you tick and what you look like agitated, but most importantly I know what you do when you are obsessed with something or someone." She starts to circle me while digging into each word, "You are focused, determined, unrelenting, sleep deprived, anxious and you won't stop until you get your desired outcome." I opened my mouth to argue, but she holds her hand up stopping me, "You know I am right. I also can see all those emotions alive in your eyes right now and the deep indents under your eyes clearly show the lack of sleep."

She studies my eyes in depth looking into my soul, trying to pry out my emotions, but they are in a very deep, very unbreakable safe box, to which only I have the key. Her face morphs back into a general annoyance when she doesn't get anything from me. She backs up and moves back to her place by the window studying my movements from afar.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" She asks, anger curling in her voice again.

I run a hand over my face before I speak, "I have been researching this guy because he is unknown and that makes him dangerous."

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