Now You See Me

October 30, 2017:

Takes place directly after The Getaway. Glitch is forced to get reacquainted with Tony Stark, whom she has not seen in four years, about the body of a dead teenaged mutant on the roof of his building, and shows him the information she managed to steal from Genosha. Tony's generosity earns him an unwanted roommate.

New York City

Stark Tower.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Stark Tower is always a busy place. Always something going on. Meetings and design teams moving here and there around the building. The man himself never seems to sleep. Always up and awake doing /something/ or other.

Mostly because he can't sleep.

But thats a problem and a story for a different time.

Right now what he's doing is very delicate work. He's fashioning a new circuit system for one of his works. Made of glass and crystal. Highly experimental stuff here. Carefully manipulated with every ounce of his considerable talent into a configuration that is delicate and fragile as glass. This could be the breakthrough he's waiting for. Something to boost his tech quotient even higher. To make his suits faster, better, able to slap a Wakanda suit in the face!!

…thats what he's going for of course.

But he's finally finished. After nearly ten hours of painstaking manipulation to get it into something he can test. A workable configuration he can use. Something that he can apply to something useful.

There is a sigh of relief from Tony Stark as he slowly, carefully pushes away from the table as he looks at the delicate pattern of metal and wire on the table infront of him.

"Right, nobody /breathe/ until this is settled…"

Dummy, his little robobuddy in the corner looks slightly confused. He doesn't breathe…is the boss talking to him?!

Jarvis wisely keeps quiet.

—-

A few minutes ago, a redhaired thief and the badly burned body of a teenaged mutant was teleported to the top of Stark Tower after an ill-advised foray into Genosha that resulted in the digital decimation of one of its infamous Sentinel production plants. While the young woman had expected to be teleported in some of the more famous landmarks in New York City, apparently Stark Tower made enough of an impression to the now-dead Albus, last name unknown, to use the last minutes of his life to escape the island nation with his unexpected rescuer and therefore saving both of their lives.

For as long as Albus managed to breathe shortly afterwards, anyway.

As Tony Stark works on something incredibly sensitive, he wouldn't know that he has a visitor. Not yet anyway, but he'll see the signs - lights flickering briefly, intermittent power surges here and there, nothing that would destroy any of the sensitive equipment, of which there are many, in the entire building - especially all ten floors of Stark Industries' research and development.

Carefully, he puts down his instruments. Carefully, he examines his work.

And as suddenly as a tsunami, all of Stark Tower's security systems go haywire - red lights wash over whatever monitors Tony has open in his quiet space. Before he can reach out to try and see what happened, power suddenly dies, plunging his white room into deep, utter darkness. Backup generators don't kick into gear, nor the backups of the backups, nor the backup of the backup of the backups. For a few precious moments, life in this bastion of high science and technology has been utterly snuffed.

The most important thing, however, is that his latest project remains whole and untainted. The delicate glass and crystal matrix gleams under the light of the moon, beautiful and undamaged.

The automated door behind him swings open, and a familiar voice that he hasn't heard in four years flits into the space.

"Tony, sorry about this but— "

The door slams shut, with enough force to shake the room. It isn't her fault the architects designed everything thick and sturdy, and therefore heavy, all meant to keep unwanted intruders from breaching its perimeter. But as a result of it, the beautiful, fragile latticework that he was just working on tilts a little bit from its axis. Just a little.

…and cracks. Just a little.

"…hopefully it's not a bad time."

—-

"Jarvis what is going on?" Tony doesn't look up as the power fluxes begin. He's still running his eyes over the sexy yet delicate piece of tech he's just finished.

"I am not quite sure sir…I think….there seem to be some kind of minor malfunctions…"

Stark glances up with a frown at that, the man eyeing the data that starts to flow in on one of the holoscreens he just summoned with a thought. "…give me a readout of—"

And then alarms.

And then /nothing/.

Moonlight is the only illumination in the House of Stark as he stares slackjawed at the sudden darkness. Hurriedly his eyes snap towards his lattice and he finds…

Nothing wrong.

A soft, slow, sigh of relief just before a door opens and a familiar voice intrudes on his lab. Old. But familiar.

"WAITDON'TSLAMTHEDOO—"

WHAM!!

CRACK!

…that crack is loud enough to make Tony wince as he holds up one finger towards the thief on his door. "Bad? Oh no. Not bad at all. Just in the middle of a massively delicate experiment that you just ruined!"

Now he's glaring. Which is hard to make out in the darkness. But he totally is.

"You have five minutes to explain just what the hell you are doing here before I shoot you with an /analog/ gun. I have one of them somewhere. Just…let me find the damn thing…"

A long pause as he starts opening various cubbies. "And turn the lights on I can't see anything!"

—-

Why is it that every time she and Tony Stark occupy in the same room, a confrontation like this happens? Nothing has changed in four years.

But there's some semblance of comfort to be had in consistency; the redhead feels her lips twitch, a smile that doesn't quite come into being when her hands slide into her pockets and she waits for the Iron Man's blistering row to end, followed by the threat to shoot her with an analog gun with minimal mechanisms to be immune to her inherent gifts.

"The doors in this place have always been heavy," she points out. "That's your architects' fault, not mine. As for the massively delicate experiment, last I checked, you're a genius. I'm pretty sure you could save it. And do you really think I'm gonna turn the lights on now after you threatened to shoot me? Why would I do anything to make your aim more accurate?"

The thief tilts her head slightly to the side - his citation of using an old-fashioned firearm to shoot her with is enough for her to conclude one very important thing…

"…happy to know you still remember me, though. It's good to see you too, Tony. But it's important. Sorry, I didn't think he would bring me here, but before you freak out, you need to know there's a dead body on your roof."

WHAT?

"It's not my fault!" Both hands lift upwards before the genius inventor could lose his mind, or say anything else. "I was in Genosha for a job and it got bad and…I couldn't just leave him and….ah, fuck. I'll just show you."

The light come back on then, with the distinct whirring of electronics. It has been a while since they've met, but her control over her abilities has improved in leaps and bounds. Nothing short circuits, nothing blows out. Compared to the last time she had visited Stark Tower, so far, there is no millions of dollars of damage done to its treasure trove of high-tech systems.

She's a little taller than he had last seen her at sixteen years old, or thereabouts - even she doesn't know how old she had been. Her hair is longer, grown out of the chin-lengthed bob she had kept it in those years, red-gold waves left in a free tousle and left to collect within the confines of her hood. Dressed in snug dark jeans, a jacket and a hoodie, her style hasn't changed that much either, as always one to wear comfortable street clothes that she could run in. But there is blood - a bullet hole through her shoulder, crimson spreading over the blue tanktop she wears underneath her layers, more of it on her thigh. She's in pain, but it's more around her eyes than anywhere else on her face. She should be in shock, but the adrenaline in her system is keeping it all at bay.

She tosses him her smartphone, and if he looks down, it's queued to a video.

—-

"First off there is a /reason/ I designed this place with heavy doors. Second off I'm not blaming myself because you know by now I don't work like that. Third off of /course/ I can save it it just takes you know…the power to be on!"

Tony fires back in rapid succession as he sits up, glowering over the top of his glasses that likely cost more than some small countries. If she can sense the circuits those glasses are brimming with them. Packed with two or three times the tech that she felt four years ago. Though there is a snort of something very near laughter from the inventor.

"You are hard to forget." A pause. "And you actually lived four years. I'm shocked. I thought Shaw would have hunted you down by now."

He would say more but the sudden revelation that A) She was in Genosha and there is a dead body on the roof causes him to pause. Gears shift in a fraction of a second as the Iron Man shifts to supper miffed inventor to only mildly miffed Avenger.

The lights come back on and again Jarvis' voice cuts though the air.

"Oh dear, pardon me sir. I do not know what happened the entire building just cut out. Should I sound an alarm?"

"No Jarvis," Comes Tony's reply as he stands, shorter of stature but tall on personality and presence to start to stalk towards the lady thief. "You remember Glitch don't you?"

There is a pause from the AI. "Yes, sir." He sounds slightly sour. "Are you /positive/ I should not activate the defenses."

"No mother, I don't need help." Tony shoots back before he looks back towards Glitch. "Arlight, sit. Explain. Jarvis, get one of the suits topside and check out the roof."

That last is given before he catches the smartphone and glances down at it. "Sit." He tells the thief, gesturing towards a chair.

Then he simply touches a finger to the phone and almost like magic flings an image of the video to a larger holoscreen so he can watch.

"…so…are you /still/ named Glitch? Or did you take something edgy like the cool kids do?"

—-

I thought Shaw woud have hunted you down by now.

"Considering I basically gave you the advantage over Shaw Industries regarding that prototype, he'd have every reason to," the red-haired woman remarks with a smirk. "Does it make me a bad person if I said I kind of wish he did? He reaped what he sowed, I would've played the part of a good girl if he didn't decide to screw me over."

There's a brief pause at their rapid-fire tete-a-tete, after Tony tells her that she is hard to forget. The small, somewhat tight smile that she gives him is indicative, at least, that she considers that a compliment. After a curious glance at the glasses perched on top of his nose, a slight hint that proves that his hypothesis might be correct in that small, but logical extension of her gifts, her head tilts sideways when she hears JARVIS wake back up.

"Hi, JARVIS," she tells the AI, as affable as can be.

Are you positive I should not activate the defenses?

"You know most of them's not gonna work," she points out. "Unless you managed to program a Home Alone Protocol since the last time I was here."

He still manages to sass his digital butler with the same, remembered penache. As Tony relays his orders to his entire bevy of robotic assistants through JARVIS, the young woman eases into a seat, sagging readily into something soft. The pain helps, it prevents her from succumbing at the urge to close her eyes and sleep for a week. Lips purse when she watches the man simply throw the video from her phone and into a large holo screen.

"Rory," she supplies, when Tony asks her for a name; the novelty of running around as Glitch 24/7 had faded by the time she was into her late teens, having discovered the usefulness of having an actual appellation to be called by, something normal, unassuming and ordinary. It wasn't because it made her more anonymous, considering her current identity crisis, she already was, but it made her more personable and approachable. "Rory Lee."

The video plays. The footage would have been terribly dark were it not for the lights that flicker from various pieces of surrounding machinery. It looks like a factory and the Iron Man would be treated with a sight not many people have seen: the interior of an actual Sentinel production plant, in the deeper underbellies of the island nation of Genosha. It looks underground, encased in metal, noises of the assembly line thrumming and seeming distant. But the camera's focus is not on the robots. It's on something else entirely.

Tubes full of bodies, in various states of decay, each labeled with a number and floating in iridescent blue liquid. There are many, sightless eyes staring into the cameras as she passed.

"A middle-man for one of the free mutant outfits out there asked me to sabotage the plant," she continues, her eyes looking away from the screen, fingers clenching and unclenching on her lap. Not because she can't stand the sight of death, but rather that she couldn't guarantee her temper if she saw the images again. "So I came in to do that and steal whatever's valuable. I wasn't expecting….anyway, the body on your roof was a teleporter. He was the only one out of the bunch still alive. He got us out when things went south, I was hoping if I got back here— "

That I'd be able to save him.

"— that he'd be able to get the help he needed but he died."

Bloodied fingers reach into the inner lining of her jacket, to pluck out a USB drive, and a mysterious cylindrical vial filled with a silvery compound. What is that, mercury…?

—-

Tony just snaps his fingers and a little round drone comes hovering out of a concealed portal on the wall. In its little manipulators is a small pack of something that seems to be packed with electronics. Electronics and medical supplies.

"Dunce get that medpack working on her shoulder." He calls out as he keeps his eyes glued to that screen there. What is shown causes his eyes to widen in suprise. "Huh, you know how many people would kill you for this? JARVIS, analyze and extrapolote building size and power usage. Give me tech specs and anything obviously out of place on the machinery." He calls out as his eyes flicker towards Glitch.

Rory Lee

"Huh, just picked that out of book or something? Or just feeling southern?" A smirk at that before he lets his gaze be arrested by the new view of the bodies.

The tables.

The experiments.

Slowly he frowns. Now Glitch has seen Tony annoyed, but never truly angry. Eyes burning as he actually for once frowns. Frowns and stays silent till the end of the video at least.

"JARVIS, record video. We'll get it to someone that can do something about it." Like him. Later. "I'll find out who he is. The teleporter. Find out if he has any family who were missing him. They should as least know." He finally says before reaching up to ruffle his own hair.

"Goddamn, after everything I've seen…and I've seen a lot, I'm a god on a different plane of existance you know, it still amazes me how humans can be compleate assholes to each other." He growls as he turns back towards her.

"JARVIS, scan that please. And…I'm gonna assume thats what you yoinked from the mad science brigade? Shall we see whats on it?"

A pause.

"Cause if it gives me some more targets I'd be much obliged. That factory is likely to be moved by now."

—-

As Tony directs the droid to look after her injuries, Rory manages to smother the look of gratitude that threatens to brim from her eyes; she's older now, but compared to the Iron Man, she's still young, practically a child, still, in the eyes of the technological titan before her. Slowly, she shifts on her seat, to shed the black jacket and the hoodie underneath. Blood pours freely from the wound on her shoulder - Dunce would find others, on her side as well as her hip. It's only until those layers are shed that her injuries would make clear, visible marks on her, when she's so capable of maintaing a perfect poker face.

You know how many people would kill you for this?

A small smile curls up on the corners of her mouth, lifting her shoulders faintly in a shrug. "Occupational hazard." She doesn't seem to be all that worried that people would kill her for taking the video. "I thought about just wiring the video over to a bunch of news outfits around the world and let the fallout sort itself out, but…" I don't wanna make things worse on this front. "…I figured something like this is good leverage. Plus, I'm no superhero, I thought I'd just forward this stuff to the good guys and let them figure out what to do. It's not like I have any experience with that sort of thing."

JARVIS makes his acquiescence known in the background, to extrapolate the size and power usage of the facility. The redhead shakes her head. "I have that information, it's in my phone, you can just add it into your file." Her smile quirks upwards. "Remember what I told you ages ago? I know how to do homework."

And how. The first time they met, she confronted him with the personal details of his life - just a teenager, then. She has only grown more meticulous since.

"The outfit that hired me swore up and down that they'd give me everything I needed to do the job, that includes blueprints and info. But I don't generally trust what's handed to me on a silver platter, so I went digging on my own."

Just picked that out of a book or something?

She laughs; it only draws out the slightest wince. "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes," she tells him, citing the book where Lorelei Lee comes from, a female Jazz-age trickster, though she wasn't called Rory in the book - it's a popular nickname for Lorelei, which is why she uses it. Mischief fills her blue eyes. "I'd ask you if that was true, but word on the street says you were never a gentleman, Tony Stark. I mean, you don't even like being handed things and all."

When he asks JARVIS to track down the dead boy's name, she nods. "His name is Albus. He's a teenager. I don't think he's ever been to New York before, but I think he was a fan of yours. I asked him to take us to New York, or we'd all be dead, and the first thing he thought of was to come here. The kid's from Africa, I don't know how long he's been down there but chances are he's never had a chance to visit." She glances out the window. "Probably just saw you in television a lot."

With JARVIS running through Tony's new directives in the background, she gestures to the drive and vial. "While I was sabotaging the place, I decided to steal what I could get my hands on, as I said. I…I've been around, you know. People ask me to steal tech all the time, so I've been reading up on everything I could get my hands on if not just to know what I'm dealing with out there. But….this…" She taps the drive. "The plant was running two separate operating systems, Tony. And both are nothing I've seen before, and I've seen a lot. I couldn't parse out why there were two. Figured I'd leave that to someone who actually knows how to program something. As for the vial…"

She hesitates.

"I saw a label in passing. Something called Mark X. It…"

There's something more. And by the look on her face, something bad. She buries her exhausted face in her hands for a moment.

—-

Tony glances over towards her, swift mind cataloguing the injuries and deciding that Dunce has the right tools for the job. The medkit the little drone uses is a marvel of technology, like most things in this Tower. State of the art medical scanner coupled with nanite healing systems that even SHIELD doesn't have yet.

Tony keeps all the best toys for himself after all.

It works on sealing up the wound quickly and efectively. With a minimum of painkillers involved, so Rory doesn't just pass right out.

"Well you're right in that I'm not a gentleman. But I can play one on TV. Also who said you were allowed to grow up and become attractive its damn distracting you know. You should stop it. Damn redheads." He chatters on as he gives her a smirk out of one corner of his mouth.

As if to say 'Oh yeah. Keep up the ruthless front. I know better.'

"Even better, JARVIS blueprints. Coralate where in that damn little island they could stick something like this and get back to me." He adds in repsonce to her words before he spins towards a desk to snatch a bag of trail mix up and grab himself a handfull.

After four years, yes. He's still always eating.

Shaking it he'll offer the bag to her before he continues. Most of the pieces in said bag seem to be some kind of chocolate so it might actually help.

"I do like to be on television a lot." He adds, though behind the quick quip there is apart of him that winces at that comment. He shouldn't be idolized. He's a screw up and he knows it. But still thats not the face he shows to the world.

That wouldn't be very Tony Stark of him after all.

"Most of the time Phil yells at me when I go and get on TV without warning him first." He adds as he looks back to the video. "Which I'm tempted to do right now." He adds as he glances at the USB and the vial.

"Mark X? That means there were nine others…" Which means they were doing this for some time. "…JARVIS. Set up a safe system for us to analyze that USB. I don't know why they would be running multiple OS's but if they were trying to hide something else I'll crack it. Like a damn egg."

A smirk at that.

"If there was a VI involved there could be a reason like that, or if they were wanting to hide some of them. It would require a hell of a lot of processing and power to run that though. I'll retask some satalites to see if I can dig up something…"

A glance towards her.

"…what the hell posessed you to stick your nose in this business in the first place?"

—-

Fabric is cut away by Dunce, who later pours whatever nanite solution there is to disintegrating the bullets still lodged in her body, and sealing up her skin. Rory watches with very curious, very intent eyes - tech like this is the new gold, no matter how quickly one piece of technology becomes obsolete once things are inevitably stolen and reverse engineered by competitors. She knows about the tech race better than most, for an outsider anyway, if not by virtue of her profession. Still, there's wonder in her eyes when Dunce finally flies away from her, and her wounds sealed up by rapidly healing flesh.

Also who said you were allowed to grow up and become attractive?

She tests her shoulder carefully, wincing at the pain - but it is rapidly fading and she doesn't pass out. The remark earns him a broad grin, brows lifting upwards to her hairline. She favors him with a dramatic toss of her red-gold hair. "If you still think I am while bleeding and sweating in jeans, I must've really made bank on the genetic lottery," she tells him lightly, taking the compliment in good stride. "Maybe this time you'll stop calling me 'little girl', huh? Besides, when did I ever wait for anyone's permission to do anything?"

But the offerance of the trail mix is not one that she rejects; she doesn't remember the last time she had any food. "I could use a cheeseburger," she says, apropos of nothing, making a note to stop by the first fast food - no, first street cart in New York so she could grab one fresh off the griddle. "But chocolate is always a surefire way to a woman's heart." She pops a handful of the trail mix in her mouth, leaving the two of them chewing on granola and chocolate chips.

The possibility of the Sentinel Project guys having made nine before Mark X has her wincing inwardly. "Well hopefully all of that information's in the drive," she says. JARVIS is probably already making a copy. "But there's something else. I took the sample because it looked important, but something else came out of the tube when I broke it."

What?

"I killed the lights so I couldn't see it clearly, but it was humanoid. It had Sentinel eyes…the same soulless red and black. But it came out of the liquid, Tony. It just rose up like a fountain and then…solidified. And then went insane and attacked the sentries attacking us. Whatever it is, this is a piece of it." She holds up the vial containing the Mark X formula.

What the hell possessed you to stick your nose in this business in the first place?

She leans forward so she could take another handful of trail mix out of the bag. "The guy who set up the job's name is Billy Gorf. And yeah, he looks about exactly the way he sounds." An actual billy goat. "But he's some kind of precog and he said if I did the job, he'd double my fee and throw in a favor on top of it. And you know me, I'm always after people who owe me. These days I need it." She winks at Tony. "It's helpful to have more friends than enemies, right?"

She chews on her trail mix. "Obviously I got more than I bargained for. I expected Sentinels, but I didn't expect…" The bodies. An uncomfortable twist assails her stomach.

She didn't expect a massacre, of her own kind. She didn't expect a possible new prototype of Sentinel either.

—-

"From what I can tell from our last meeting, you never wait for anything." Tony shoots back as he leans against the table behind him. Munching on the trail mix. "And I'm totally gonna keep calling you little girl, because it makes you get that annoyed crese right between your eyebrows. Its adoreable." His voice at that rapid fire clip that means he's thinking about something else and just letting his mouth run away with itself.

This happens a lot.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir. I shall have something sent up. Shall I inform Miss Potts you have guests?"

Tony winces at that. "Yeah you better, else she'll walk in and give me that damn look like I'm keeping her out of important business again." The inventor adds as he flicks his eyes back towards Glitch.

"Wait something escaped? One of these things got out?" A longer pause. "JARVIS retask would you? Gonna have to analyze this goo soon as possible to try to find out what the hell just happened."

He spins again, away from her this time. Back to the table as he sweeps the acumulated experiments off to make a new cleared space. "Alright, get the sat system working now and we'll see where this thing could have gone. If this is some crazed new Sentinal prototype who knows who it'll attack or what it'll do. The damn things are entirely unstable as is…" A snort. "…and they call my ideas crazy. I don't build genocidal robots!"

A beat pause.

"Well not today at least."

Then he turns back towards her. "And no taking my medic tech with you. Not that anyone could replicate it, but if its done wrong there could be…side effects."

A pause. A glance to the side.

"…human trials shouldn't have started for a week. But its fine I'm sure!"

…he's totally kidding right.

—-

You never wait for anything.

Rory grins. "I sure don't."

And I'm going to keep calling you little girl.

The grin fades immediately into a frown; the crease between her eyebrows shows up, as Tony expects.

His exclamation about something having escaped triggers an inward wince; it was technically her fault, but for once, her stealing had been for a purpose other than selfishness - what she discovered in the belly of the factory shocked her enough that she stole everything she could get her hands on in an effort to retrieve as much information as she possibly could. The idea of selling what she managed to pilfer didn't even cross her mind at the time. If nothing else, stealing anything was not part of the job - Billy had only told her to sabotage the plant. She had done what she did on her own.

"…I don't know. Albus and I poofed out before I even saw what happened to the sentries that were attacking us," the redhead murmurs. "For all I know, the guy running the place managed to capture the specimen by now." Though something tells her, deep in her gut, that things never turn out that easily. "Oh, that reminds me…"

As Tony clears out a space in his desk, she moves over towards him, taking her phone back and swiping through the photographs. She holds it up.

It's a semi-clear photograph of the scientist that interrupted her work; middle-aged and spindly, with glasses. His face is contorted in the picture, if not just because the camera had caught him in mid-punch from Glitch, judging by the view of a fingerless-gloved hand on the side. Spittle flies on the corner of his mouth, and fragments from his glasses are caught in mid-flight. He'd even see a glimpse of the man's arm, where he was holding a walking stick.

…yep. That's what it looks like. She totally beat up a cripple.

In her defense, he was committing serious crimes against humanity in some car factory's basement.

"I don't know who he is, but the way he was saying it, he's the only one allowed down there. He might be in charge of that specific plant."

The mention that the medical nanites have yet to be tested on human subjects has her balking once, glancing down at her arm. After a moment, she relaxes, lifting her shoulders in another shrug. "Well," she tells him. "Beats having bullet holes for weeks. Just to warn, though, if side-effects include uncontrollable bowel movements? I'm going to sit on your chair. And not just any chair, Tony. You know the one I'm talking about."

She winks at him at that.

"Anyway, I'll…let…you…do your thing, I guess. I'm kind of tired and I should probably get my cheeseburger and some shut eye, but I'll keep in touch."

—-

"Its never that easy."

Stark's words are chipper but the thread in them speaks of long experiance with things like this. How just when you thought things were going ok…something snuck up and suckerpunched you right in the gut. It was never easy.

It was always worth it.

Then he glances down on at the picture on the woman's phone. "…you…" A glance back towards her. "…totally beat up an old man with a brittle hip. Did you break his old man hip?" A beatpause. "God I hope you did. He deserves it. But I'll get the picture out. We'll run him down hopefully before he goes to ground again."

A pause again with a smirk. "Though I do know how he feels. I mean you can get people pretty pissed off when it comes to being places where you shouldn't. But you know that already and don't care. I can respect that."

A wave of his hand. "Side effects are more like…well you'll find out. You like polka dots right? Good good I thought so. Everyone does."

No he's not listening to her threats either.

He glances at her as she starts to take her leave before throwing up his hands. "I was going to offer you a bed for the night but if you want to leave fine fine. Refuse my hosptality." A smirk. "I mean its not like I could keep you without actually shooting you anyway and I still don't know where I put my gun."

However he does flip her a card, where it was hiding its hard to tell. "Keep that. Call if you get into trouble. In fact I'll call…" There is a thoughtful look on his face as he glances at her, then at the little drone hovering near her. "…see how the followup looks."

He pauses a moment before adding. "…and to see what you think about /legitimate/ employment. I know. Not any fun…"

A wave of his hand again. "Anyway, get out of here little girl thief. Before you break even more things!"

—-

"Well if you're going to put me up, I'm not gonna say no," Rory tells him, a hand reaching up to deftly snag the card once it's flipped to her, glancing down at what it says. Taking a picture of it, the data pulls his name, number, e-mail address and whatever else is printed on it easily. Given her power set however, she tucks a hard copy of the calling card away, just in case. Being what she is has only increased her appreciation for the old fashioned way of doing things.

"Let me know where - I'm not going far. Just going across the street to get my cheeseburger, maybe a couple of shots." And away from anyone who could see her, to pour one out for a boy she tried to save, and be alone with the memories of the things she had seen. She has lived an unrepentant, selfish existence for most of her life…or what she remembers of her life, anyway. And the dying boy's words keep pulsing in the back of her head, steadily growing into a headache. She needs something, anything, to assuage the pain.

And to see what you think about legitimate employment…

The redhead laughs. "It depends on how convincing you are. But since we're going to be roommates for a while, you've got plenty of time to think about your pitch." She pivots at that, lifting a hand in a wave.

Wait.

Roommates???

"I'll see you in a bit, Tony."

And with that, the door closes behind her.

—-

Tony Stark just stares at that closed door for a long time. He's still watching it as he reaches into a desk and pulls out a bottle of scotch. Then he pours himself a glass. Then downs said glass.

All while watching that door.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I totally just made a horrible mistake didn't I?"

"Yes, sir."

"Glad we are in agreement."

"…are you sure you do not want me to activate the defenses, sir?"

The inventor sighs. "No. Yes. Wait no I'm not sure and no don't do it anyway." A beatpause. "Just help me find my gun."

JARVIS just sighs. "Yes, sir."

"…and order more cereal."

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