DISCLAIMER: I don't own Avengers or X-Men. Or anything in here that sounds remotely familar, for that matter. So, yeah.


Chapter Two

There's Nothing Scarier Than A Woman On A Mission


Virginia "Ginny" Potts awakens early on Thursday morning. She sits up, smiles to herself and turns her alarm off before it has the chance to ring when she's in the shower or something. With a deep breath, she swings her legs over the side of her bed and pushes her quilt to the side, sitting up with a stretch.

"Good morning, Miss Potts." She mutters to herself, before heading briskly to her wardrobe and picking out a black pencil skirt and a white, collared long sleeve shirt and laying them on her bed. Then, she spins around and heads straight to the shower, turning it on quickly.

That's been Ginny's morning routine for as long as she can remember. Get up. Pick out clothes. Shower. Change. Go to work.

It sucks and it's boring and repetitive, but Ginny's a woman of schedule and repetition, so the whole 'same thing every day' gig she has going, isn't all that bad. So, that morning, when she's sorting through documents and reading through them much more carefully than anyone else ever does and spots a math error in Mister Stark's personal documents… well, she doesn't care who wrote the document.

If she tells her boss, she could save Stark Industries millions of dollars. So, that's what she does.

"Mister Reeves," she calls, lacing her fingers together and sitting rigidly in her chair. Her boss, a young man with thin black hair and beady grey eyes, turns around and looks up from his bright computer screen, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, Potts?" He asks shortly, drumming his fingers impatiently on his keyboard. He's an impatient man, everyone knows that, but it's ticking Ginny off much more than usual right now and she can't seem to work out why.

"There seems to be a mistake, uh… A math error." She finds herself swallowing nervously even though she knows she's the best thing that ever happened to Mister Reeve's unit, so she shouldn't be worried about losing her job. "It could save the company millions if resurrected, but, uh…" Her voice trails off at the end, her sentence hanging in the air even though she can't quite work out why but she could kick herself for letting it happen.

"Mister Stark doesn't make math errors." Mister Reeves laughs, then turns away and back to his computer as though his assistant isn't worth his time anymore. His fingers move terribly slowly over the keys, which is one thing about her boss that Ginny has always found irritating.

"I'm sorry, Sir." Ginny snaps, nervousness turning abruptly into annoyance. "But I don't give a damn who did the math. I'm going to turn it in to Mister Stark himself if I have to."

Mister Reeves shrugs nonchalantly. "You do that. Lose your job. Get a reputation as an idiot for all I care." He sighs heavily. "Look, you and I… Our job is simply to do what we're told and keep our traps shut."

"Then this business probably isn't something for a girl like me."

"A girl like you?" His eyebrows raise.

"Impertinent. Probably an idiot. A workaholic."


Soon, Miss Potts finds herself standing just outside the door to Mister Stark's office. She's shaking slightly and her eyes keep darting from the guns in the hands of the two guards out front, to the 'SECURITY' badges on the breast pockets of their Stark Industries issued suits.

"I just need to get in and see Mister, uh, Stark?" It comes out as more of a question and Ginny finds herself irritated at her own nervousness for the second time that day. What is wrong with her?

"No can do, Ginger." Says the guard on the left.

Ginny steps forward anyway. "You just heard Julian, back off, Ginger." Says the other and she finds herself suddenly well aware of every little twitch and movement they make, every breath and even the amount of muscle in their beefy arms. They could take her down in an instant if they actually tried.

"I swear," Ginny starts to threaten the two men in a voice much stronger than she feels. Before she continues, she pulls out a little spray bottle from her hand bag with slightly shaking hands. "It's usually just for defensive purposes. Let me in, or I'll use it." She shakes the bottle of pepper spray for good measure.

The guard on the left looks wary, but the other one merely snorts. Seeing that they aren't about to listen to her, she squirts one quick cloud up at the second guard, then directs the nozzle at the other. "Really sorry, er, Julian, was it?" Then, with one more squirt, they're both rolling on the ground in agony and clutching their eyes.

She sighs heavily, straightens her shirt and posture, and then steps over them in her six-inch louboutin heels. She calmly pushes open the door to Mister Stark's office and smiles pleasantly at the billionaire. "Hello, Mister Stark."

"Hello," says Tony without even looking up at Virginia. "How did you get in? I told Happy and Julian to keep everyone else out." He straightens up a stack of papers, then scribbles something at the bottom, before discarding the sheet of paper to a pile to the left. He runs his tongue against his bottom lip and scans the next sheet.

"Apparently they were no match for a woman on a mission." Ginny says in a tone that she hopes is nonchalant.

That seems to catch the billionaire's attention, and he looks up with interest. His eyes sparkle with humour and he cocks his head to one side. "Yeah?" He asks. "What did you do? Kick them in the balls?" He sounds almost hopeful.

"Pepper spray." She says and places the bottle on his desk, hoping that he's not going to see her as a threat and use her own weapon against her.

He looks impressed and rakes his eyes up and down her figure in a way that is almost unnerving. "Mmhm," he nods, not even looking like he cares that she's just broken in to his office with force. He quickly places the bottle in a desk drawer. "Hang on a sec, I've just got to get medical up here to take care of Happy. Julian needs to be sacked anyway." He places a quick call, then turns back to Ginny with interest. "What was it you wanted?"

"You made a math mistake."

"I thought I might have." He grins in triumph, almost as though he thinks he's made some sort of breakthrough. "I was just drunk last night and had these last minute documents to fill out. Fun, eh, Pepper?"

"My name's Virginia." Says Ginny, indignantly.

"Pepper's hot, if you know what I mean?" He winks, pun obviously intended, and Ginny rolls her eyes. "Anyway, I'd like you to resign, please. If not, I'll ask your boss to fire you. Who's your senior?"

The red-head gapes at him in complete and utter shock. Is he really sacking her? That means she'll have to go job hunting again, and she hates job hunting. "But I just saved the company millions!"

"I know, which is why I want you to be my PA."

"I… what?" She's about to retort something smart, then finds her mouth dropping open in shock for what feels like the millionth time that day as she realizes what he's saying.

"You do want the job, right?" He says it in a voice that almost makes it seem like he's taking her for some sort of idiot already, which is one of the reasons why she's even contemplating taking the job – to prove him wrong again. That, and she knows it's probably the highest paying job in the business.

"Well, yeah, but…" She's still shocked that he's just assuming she'll take the job, even though she knows she probably will.

"Good! Sign here." He pushes a stack of papers at Ginny, then sighs in resignation as she reads through each of them thoroughly. What? She's just one of those people. If anyone (Mister Stark) wants to get stroppy about it even though it takes her around ten minutes to read through… Well, that's not her problem.

Finally, she signs, a delicate little signature in the corner of the page, just below Mister Stark's own large and extravagant one. She's often thought that someone's signature is a mark of their personality, and thinks that this is obviously a keen example of that.

"Thank you, Pep." He says with a grin. "Now, see, I'm about to tell you something very important, because I trust you now. You read where it says: NO SECRETS MAY BE DISCLOSED TO ANY THIRD PARTIES."

Pepper, as she is obviously now known, narrows her eyes warily. "What…?"

"I'm a mutant. There you go. Now only you and Colonel Rhodes and the X-Men know. If you tell anyone… well, we don't want to go there, do we?" He grins toothily at her and she stiffens.

"I… what? How do you expect me to believe…?" The vase to her right explodes, and Pepper jumps back with a muffled scream (muffled, because she threw her hand over her mouth just in time). "I… touché, Mister Stark." Tony laces his hands together and gazes curiously at the now empty place where the vase used to be. There's something in his eyes that tells Pepper that he's having a hard time accepting that she just believed him. However, Pepper's still freaking out, she's just good at hiding it.

"First errand, Pepper." He decides, cocking his head to the side for a moment, seemingly contemplating the empty space for a moment. "I need a new vase. And go tell your boss that you resign."


So, he's told Rhodey and Pepper, whatever. It doesn't mean he has any intentions whatsoever of letting the Avengers (or S.H.I.E.L.D for that matter) know. Tony's kept his mutation hidden for so long now, he's not even going to let a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D spies and their personal lapdogs find out.

He acted annoyed that he didn't qualify for the Avengers, and maybe he was, but if he was, it was only because they'd brushed him off. In the long run, he knew it was a good thing he wasn't with them. He was already an unofficial X-Men member and, anyway, joining the Avengers would make him liable for team bonding and talking about feelings and shit. And with feelings, comes talking about *ahem* mutations.

This is also why he doesn't want the Avengers to move in. That, and it's fun to watch Fury beg.

"Stark."

"No."

"Please Stark."

"Nuh-uh."

Fury's eye-patch twitches and the Avengers (namely, Clint) found themselves snorting in amusement at the look on Fury's face that would have been described as desperation, had Fury actually been capable of feeling emotion.

"Okay," Tony says, and when Fury's about to breathe a (internal) sigh of relief, he holds up a hand as if to say I'm not done, yet. "Bruce can stay. I need science."

"Please." Says Fury, through gritted teeth.

"You heard my answer, no."

"I'll beg." Except Fury kind of sounds like he'd rather die than beg. Which, he probably would.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? Beg then. Get on your knees, Sparrow, and beg."

Fury scowls. "No."

Tony raises his chin, grins wickedly and tells Fury that okay, fine he'll house the Avengers for a little while. Just until they find somewhere better to live. Tony's not that hospitable.


Okay, so maybe Stark isn't very excited about the Avengers moving in. Thor's obsessed with pop-tarts, and if Tony doesn't order enough… whoops, there goes the TV! Steve does that thing, where he doesn't seem to give two shits about trees, and orders the paper, then reads it like the old man he is. So, now Tony has to deal with the paper delivery at some ungodly hour of the morning.

JARVIS' wakeup call now is; "Excuse me, Sir, but the paper has arrived."

And Tony yells at the top of his lungs all sorts of profanities, before blowing up the twelfth quilt cover this month. "Rogers!" He shouts. "I'M GOING TO SPLIT YOUR INSIDES OPEN WITH A TOOTHPICK!" And then he swears some more, before retreating to his lab.

Clint has a habit of eating breakfast on top of the fridge. The countertops. The head of the sofa. Anything that isn't, you know, a chair. Sometimes, Tony will head toward the fridge to grab a beer after he's blown off enough steam about the newspaper (and, "really, Tony? Is alcohol really healthy this early in the morn-" then Tony cuts Steve off with the finger) when suddenly, something big and Clint-shaped will plummet off the fridge. And Tony's like, really? Seriously? Now I'm Ultra-Pissed-Off.

Natasha likes sharpening her knifes in the kitchen and any wrong word (and Tony means any) will have a knife hurtling towards his face. He'll flinch and whatever, but Natashalie's aim is just that good that the knife never would've pierced his face anyway.

Bruce is okay, but his self-esteem is incredibly low, and Tony has learnt by now not to let him have his pick of the music they play in the lab. Otherwise some cheesy pop song or classical Indian music or, worse, that annoying melodic shit that doesn't even have words you can belt along to.

So, yeah, the Avengers aren't all that bad.