My next encounter with the man happened only two days later. I tried to refuse to deliver to Stark Tower again, but of course no one else wanted to do it, and this time there was no newbie to push the job onto. I was forced to strap the pizzas to my bike and head off to Stark Tower again.

When I got there, I rang the doorbell like usual, but this time, a voice came over a speaker system. "Ah, Natalie, right on time. Come on in!"

The door clicked open. I stared at it suspiciously for a moment, then sighed and went inside. What was the worst that could happen?

Believe me; you have no idea.

I shuffled in, already annoyed and- I'm ashamed to admit- a little intimidated by the massive building. Doors opened here and there, indicating which way I should go, and I found myself navigating a labyrinth of hallways, finally stopping when I saw Stark. He was surrounded by computers, his eyes shining a little as they reflected the light from each screen. He seemed to sense my presence despite the fact that he wasn't looking at me, and he turned around to face me, smiled, and turned back to the computer.

"Natalie Frost. A college student. Majoring in psychology, if I'm not very much mistaken." He smirked. "An interesting field of study. You're also fluent in both English and Spanish, currently studying Danish… another interesting choice."

My eyes popped. I stared at him, agape, my jaw hanging open. "You… I mean… you're…" I swallowed, shook my head quickly, then raged, "What the hell, Stark?"

He shrugged. "I looked you up." As my mouth opened and closed and I struggled to figure out how I should react to that, he said, "I look everyone up."

I stared as he kept going. "You aren't the most interesting individual I've ever met. Average grades. Average life. You live with your mother, and oh, look at that! You have a puppy!"

My hands clenched around the pizza boxes so tight that the cardboard gave way. "That," I said, very slowly and clearly, trying to get the words out. "Is an invasion of my privacy."

"No, that is on the internet," he countered, coming up next to me and taking the pizza boxes from my hands. "You'd be surprised what's there, if you just know where to look." He winked, handed me the money for the pizza, and set the boxes on a table nearby.

My hands, no longer occupied by the cardboard, clenched into fists at my sides. "So help me, Tony Stark…" I threatened, but it trailed off as I found myself unable to think of anything bad enough to threaten him with. He just patted me on the head a few times.

"There, there, Nat. Can I call you Nat?"

"No."

"All right, then. There, there, Natalie. You shouldn't get yourself so worked up over everything. Too much stress isn't good for your health."

I glowered at him. "I'll show myself out." I said caustically, then started towards the door. I felt my cheeks burning. My teeth ground together a bit nosily.

"For en person, der er så utroligt gennemsnit, du er også ret interessant," He quipped quietly. I froze, my head automatically trying to translate the Danish he threw at me; a remnant from the classroom, where the teacher spoke only that language and no other. Simultaneously, I tried to figure out where he could have learned Danish from; consequently, I found my feet rooted to the ground, unable to move in the onslaught of fresh thoughts that went on in my head.

"Or perhaps you'd understand it better if I said: Para alguien que lo increíblemente promedio, usted también está bastante interesante."

That one I did understand. "For someone who's so incredibly average, you're also quite interesting." I turned to him, glaring.

"That's how your Spanish…" He picked up something that looked like a piece of glass with a bunch of flashing lights painted across it, ran his fingers over it a few times, then concluded, "Aunt, was it? Well, that's how she would say it, am I right?"

"Do the world a favor, Stark," I said darkly, "And go die in a hole." I turned away and started walking to the door again.

"Well that's not a very nice thing to say," he mock-pouted. I almost slapped him.

"Goodbye, Tony!" I called as I went, waving over my shoulder.

"Oh, come on now!" He replied, coming up next to me with a few quick strides and keeping up easily. "It's not everybody in the world who's on first-name terms with a billionaire!"

"True, but there are a lot who are on first-name terms with assholes," I answered, not stopping. "Enjoy your pizza, Mr. Stark. Please order from us again!"

I cut down a hallway that I was fairly certain lead to the way out, hoping against all hope that I was right. Thankfully, I caught sight of the door as soon as I turned; hiding my relief, I headed towards it with faster, more purposeful steps. It was wide open; I could just slip outside and be free of this nuisance…

Slowly, surely, the door closed. There was no one around it, so I immediately whirled on Stark; everything in this place was automated, after all. As I prepared myself to give him a tirade that would make his ears bleed, he slouched to the side of the wall. Unfortunately for my lecture, the arrogance had been wiped clean out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Natalie." He said quietly. "I can't let you do that."

Now, I'm sure you've never been in a situation like this before, but when a superhero tells you that he 'can't let you' leave, you know you're in problems, because they can enforce it. Boy, can they enforce it. So what do you do? Try and run? Run where?

My eyes darted about, looking for escape routes. No good; no windows, no doors. Only me and Tony in a lonesome hallway. So I could fight; he didn't have his suit with him. He looked strong enough to overpower me easily, but I sure as hell wasn't going without a fight, anyway. And I was sure this was leading to a fight; the look in his eyes told me that I was about to get some serious bad news.

As it turns out, my worries about Tony hurting me were for nothing; he pulled something out of his pocket, tossing it towards me. I caught it reflexively, then tensed as I realized how stupid that was, that it could be a trap. I looked to him quickly, but there was no malice in his eyes.

I looked to the object. It was a strip of metal, about two inches wide, as thick as a few pieces of paper, and a little longer than my hand. I stared at it in confusion; it was perfectly flat, with no machinery on it, yet it vibrated softly against my fingers. I looked to Tony, about to ask him what the heck it was, when suddenly it came to life in my hand.

I let out an embarrassingly girly shriek as the thing started to move about, twisting around, incredibly thin and-I suddenly realized- sharp as a razor. I tried to drop it, but before I could, it wrapped itself around my wrist, the edges fusing together, and stayed there. I clawed at it ineffectually for a moment, then turned to Tony, eyes on fire.

"What the hell is this, Stark?" I demanded in a screech. He held up his hands, as though to show he was harmless. It was an act I did not believe.

"Relax, Natalie. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this before. It's just…" He sighed slowly. "You're going to want to sit down for this."

"No. No I'm not. I'm going to want you to tell me what the hell you just did to me!"

He bit his lip carefully, then slowly, reached towards his pocket. Even more carefully, he pulled out a small object that looked like a cell phone. He pressed a few buttons, then tossed it to me. I let it fall to the floor; no way I was falling for that trick again.

He sighed through his nose. "Just look at it, will you?" I glared at him, then slowly lowered my eyes to the object. A picture was displayed on the screen, which somehow had not cracked when I let it fall. Stark Tech. Who knew the commercials about it were right?

The screen displayed a number of small, metallic objects; they all looked roughly the same, though a few of them had been partially blurred. I focused my eyes on the one that had been closest to the camera; it looked quite a bit like a robot of some sort. I looked back up to Tony.

"What is it?" I asked harshly.

"What are they," he corrected mildly. I gave him a death glare.

"Whatever!"

He looked me in the eye. "They're nanobots. It's a project I've been working on; something I've been toying with for quite a while. They're working pretty well; the only problem is, they're a bit… glitchy."

"And I should care why?"

"Because you have thousands of those running amok in your bloodstream as we speak."

I stared at him, aghast. I rubbed my ear with one finger, as though cleaning it out. "I'm sorry…what?"

He raised his hands slightly again, that don't-blame-me-I'm-the-good-guy-and-I-would-never-hurt-you look on his face just making my stomach sink lower than it already had. "Let me explain. Like I said, I've been working on this for quite a while now. These nanobots… well, they're supposed to help people. The original idea was to get them to help with diseases and such; to fight off the disease on a molecular level. But then I…ah… got a bit distracted." He rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish.

"Distracted," I echoed quietly.

"Yeah. I've almost perfected them to the point where they can boost the immune system, sure, but then I got carried away. Started adding things that would help for other problems; outside problems. Self-defense and such. I'm a weapons specialist at heart, after all.

The problem is, I'm still working out the kinks. At their current state, they're a little… erm… unstable. For the most part, they'll do their job, but… well, I added a failsafe. And that's where things went wrong.

"You see, I gave these things a small amount of artificial intelligence. They can think. Adapt. And while their core programming to help and heal should keep them from doing anything out of the ordinary, it's always good to have a backup plan, correct? So when I gave them this intelligence, I also gave them a self-destruct; which they will employ within forty-eight hours if they have not received a direct order from Stark Tower, or from that little device there." He gestured to the object on my wrist. "And… well, your time was almost up."

"My time?" I finally found my breath to ask. "What… what do you mean?"

He smiled weakly. "Well… two days ago, the last time you came here… they escaped…?" It was almost a question.

I gulped down air, choked on it, and started coughing. When I finally regained control, I snarled, "Oh, well, that makes perfect sense now! They frickin' escaped! What, can't keep a lid on your own weapons tech, Stark? What kind of a genius are you?"

He waited as my rant exceeded two minutes; which I won't put here, as it got long, rambly, and eventually didn't make much sense. By the time I finished, I was sputtering and speechless, staring at him like one of us had just come from outer space.

Tony looked at me, quite calmly, and spoke slowly and steadily, in a voice that-I'm sure- was meant to keep me from being too frightened. It failed. "It was irresponsible of me, I agree. When I found out they had escaped, I scanned Stark Tower- and myself- for any sign of them. I then tracked their last report; they had found a suitable subject and were integrating themselves into its systems. I checked the time of that report, and realized that subject could only be you. I constructed that 'bracelet' as quickly as I could, then called you the only way I could; I ordered a pizza and waited for you to come. I only hoped you would be the one to deliver it. Like I said, if the nanobots didn't receive orders in forty-eight hours, they would self-destruct."

"Well, that's no problem, right?" I asked, understanding a little more and liking it a lot less. "If they self-destructed, they'd just die, right? Become dormant? Nothing would happen, right?" I kept asking questions, desperate for them to be true. But the look on his face suggested that they were anything but.

He shook his head slowly. "Once you came into the general vicinity of Stark Tower, the nanobots received new orders, keeping you safe for another two days. But, if that had not happened, then the nanobots would have… exploded."

I gagged quietly, turning away in search of a trash can or something to throw up in. Like most people, I have a mortal fear of death. When I found nothing, I swallowed back bile, then turned to him. Looking him in the eye, I raged, "EXPLODED?"

He nodded solemnly. "That wouldn't normally be a problem, given how small they are, but with that many in your bloodstream… well, no one could survive it."

"But…but…" I raised my arm, gesturing to the silver band that rested on it. "But you said you made this to give them orders, right? Something like that. So I'm safe now, right? I'm safe?"

He shuffled a little, awkwardly. "For now. But I'd like to keep an eye on you, if you know what I'm saying. Just to make sure that the tech is working, and hopefully to get them out of you before anything happens."

My eyes went wide again. "Anything? Like what?"

"Natalie," he said my name in a slightly exasperated tone, "It's weapons tech. Glitchy weapons tech. I don't know what could happen."

I pressed my hand to my forehead in disbelief, muttering and shaking my head back and forth. "This isn't happening. This can't be happening."

"I know. I'm sorry, Natalie."

I looked at him. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know this is all real, how do I know that you're not just lying to me?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"

"I don't know! But how do I know you're not, huh? What if you are? I… I have to know!"

He raised his hands a third and final time. "All right. All right, Natalie, I understand."

"Quit saying my name," I growled, unable to help myself. He nodded.

"All right. Ok. I can set up a scan. I can show you everything. Ok?"

I stared at him for a long time, then nodded slowly. "O-Okay." I stuttered quietly. He turned around and slowly, I followed.

I could bore you with a long, detailed explanation of the next few days, in which Tony finally got me to believe him, ran a bajillion tests, and talked a lot of technical nonsense that I had to de-nerd and translate in my head. But instead, I'll just say this.

My first impressions of him were both heightened and disproved on frequent occasions, especially seeing as I had to stay in the tower for the next few days for these tests to be run. I asked if we should just go to a hospital, but he scoffed, countering with a question of how they could possibly know more about this than him, and I shut up after that.

The first day or two, I whined and complained about how I needed to get back to my job, how I was missing out on classes, how there was a 'real life' outside of these walls. He dealt with my complaints for a while, then finally stopped in the middle of a test, pulled a checkbook out of his pocket, wrote out a check and handed it to me. He called it 'compensation' for my troubles and said that I was to tell absolutely no one about this. Let me tell you, to be a college student who's lived with their mother for the past nineteen years of her life, working in pizza delivery and scraping together a meager living… the number on that check was both insulting and incredibly tempting. Again, I shut up. I also quit my job the next day.

By around day three, it became clear to Tony that he wouldn't be able to remove the nanobots. By around day seven, it became clear to me.

And that, I think, is where the story starts again.

"Whaddya mean, you can't get them out of me?"

Tony shrugged helplessly. "I mean, there's nothing I can do." He pinched the bridge of his nose; admitting defeat was not easy for him to do. "Look. I'm going to try and call in a colleague of mine. Maybe he can help, maybe he can't. But we can try."

I looked at him. "So why aren't you calling him? Right now?" I took his shoulders and forcibly turned him around, shoving him forwards-towards the phone- as he protested. "Call! Do it! Now, Stark!"

"It is not- ow! - that simple!" he objected, turning to face me again, rolling his arm across both of mine with the movement, so that it flung them aside. "Look. This guy… he's not exactly… reliable. There's only one way I know to contact him, and that's through… well, it's not the safest… I mean…" he hesitated, looking me up and down. "I mean, it's dangerous, Nat."

I scowled; not only at the use of the nickname I'd told him not to use (it makes me sound like a bug!), but also at what he was saying. "What do you mean, 'dangerous'?"

He pressed his lips together, mashing them into a hard line. He opened his mouth, making wild gestures with his hands, as though trying to speak, then shut it again. He took his chin in his hands, regarding me carefully. Then he said, "Look. This colleague and I… we met through an… organization of sorts. And they're the only way I know to get through to him. But, if they found out about you, and about what happened to you… I'm not sure what they would do."

My eyes narrowed. "What? Like… they might try to hurt me because of these nanobots? Why? I'm keeping quiet about it, I don't know how they work or anything… Why would they…?"

He looked away, a little awkward. I studied him intently, mercilessly. "What aren't you telling me, Tony?" I asked.

He bit his lip, looking back to me. "I haven't… been entirely… honest with you. This organization, S.H.I.E.L.D… They… They're the ones who asked me… hired me to build those nanobots. And… well… they're classified. Extremely classified."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Basically… you know too much." He concluded with a helpless shrug.

The other eyebrow joined the first. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"Un-frickin'-believable." I laughed aloud, a little hysterical. "I can't believe you, Stark! Not only did you manage to put little, exploding alien robots into my bloodstream, but they also have to be classified explodingalien robots, that could get me killed just for knowing about them! You are incredible, Stark, you really are!" I turned away, stamping my foot as I went. "If you can't call this guy, then you'd better get these little creeps out of my bloodstream yourself! Understood?"

I stamped out of the room, my head spinning, my stomach dropping to my feet. I headed off to another room; the one that we had unofficially designated as 'mine'. It just didn't stop. I'd finally accepted the idea that I had little metal bugs crawling around inside me, and now there was the possibility that I would have them inside me… forever. That or die. Or be tied up to some table while this 'organization' whatchamacallit did tests and crap; and I doubted they would be quite as kind about it as Stark. And he was bad enough as it was.

I looked at the bracelet on my wrist, running my fingers along it. Tony had given me a few pointers on the thing; it kept up a constant live feed with the nanobots, so, as long as nothing else went wrong-and with my luck, it invariably would- it would keep them from self-destructing. But it did more than that, apparently; it was an interface between myself and the little crawly bug things. It gave them orders direct from me; translated my spoken commands and whatnot. Tony had gradually been showing me the ropes; and now I knew why. Because it was highly likely that I would never get these things out of me, and I would have to learn to live with them.

Still, I had to admit, they had their uses. They did boost the immune system, apparently, but they also helped with other things. I felt slightly stronger, faster, more agile. But that wasn't all.

Apparently, I was also indestructible.

A temperamental little ability that these things gave me, but if I could make it work… I could see why this 'S.H.I.E.L.D' wanted to get their hands on tech like this. Technically, I wasn't the one who was indestructible. When my heart reached a certain rate and my adrenaline levels spiked in a certain way, it was like a bubble around me; a bubble that didn't extend too far away, but definitely encompassed me entirely. Tony said that he'd tested it with the strongest substance known to him-something about a 'Mjolnir'- and that it didn't even crack. It was awesome to know that I had that kind of power, but it was a pain in the ass when Tony made me activate it, and it didn't go away for almost twelve hours. During that time, I couldn't touch anything. I couldn't eat, I couldn't pee, I couldn't even turn on the TV. Anything that came within about three feet of me got crushed.

I quickly proceeded to walk right next to a few of Tony's old Iron Man armors. It was a blast.

Still, by the time it finally wore off, I was starving, and I had to go pee right away or else. Not to mention the fact that the air got pretty thin in there, despite a slight gap that allowed air (the only weak spot, though it did move about).

Afterwards, I made sure Tony got the idea to never make me do that again. He'd agreed, but told me that it would be a good idea to try and work with this power anyway, just to get a little experience with it. With practice and a little luck, he said, I should be able to turn it on and off with ease. I wasn't going to take the chance.

Once inside my room, I fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time. I felt sick. I was getting really tired of a certain superhero, I was missing my mother a bit (not a lot, but a bit. I'd told her that I was away for a few days, and not to worry, but I knew her. She'd worry anyway). To be honest, I was really just missing… home.

I sighed and picked up one of the little glass tablets that Tony had given me; a miniaturized computer in and of itself, and a handy little thing. Given his interest in me, and the fact that he now knew almost everything about me, I had taken it upon myself to learn everything I could about him. But a person can only learn so much, and I was running out of reading material quickly. The truth was, beyond all of the gossip rags, the fact that he was Iron Man, and his arrogant personality… Little was known about him. Tony knew how to keep a secret.

For instance, there was this big problem back in Manhattan, with some massive alien army or something. And Tony-or rather, Iron Man- was there, helping to clean up the mess, along with a bunch of other masked freaks.

At least, that was the rumor. That's what witnesses said. But of that entire incident, not one of the masked heroes had come out and spoken about it, Iron Man included. He'd hidden it with some bullshit about a personal matter he was going through, and the big 'scandal' that happened a few days later was just a little too convenient for my liking. He'd kept the paparazzi off of his back by… well, by giving them a better story. He was clever. Too clever.

I still didn't like him.

I sighed and flicked the transcripts-some of which I'd memorized- into Danish. My teacher had suggested reading and listening to it whenever possible, after all. I scanned the pages quickly, trying to pick up what few words I knew; I'd already taken a year, but that was almost nothing, considering the pathetic way that languages were taught. I still didn't know how to ask for gas money, or how to say, help me, help me, oh for the love of sanity, please, please help me, I will die if you do not help me. Nothing along those lines; you'd think that would be their first priority. I did know how to ask a person's name though. That'll be pretty useful if I find myself bleeding out on the ground and some random Danish stranger starts poking at my body.

I snickered to myself and set the computer pad aside. Well, thank goodness for distractions, but it couldn't keep my mind off of everything for long. I glowered at the ceiling for a while, then sat up. I was so bored. Bored and anxious.

And hungry. I went outside of my room, out to the hallway, and crossed a few doors into the kitchen. I raided Tony's fridge, feeling absolutely no guilt. This man had put creepy crawlies into my bloodstream, the least he could do is pay for my lunch.

I took some string cheese, tucking a few into my pocket and gnawing thoughtfully on another, not bothering to actually split it apart into… well, strings. I headed back to Tony's lab; it had been an hour already. If he hadn't called me yet, I knew he would soon, so I saved him the trouble. Despite how I'd stormed out of the room, I'd calmed down just a bit since then; a bit, mind you.

"Ah, Natalie. Good. You're here." He turned to me. "I think… I think we have no choice but to ask my colleague about this. To see if he can help. And I know what you're going to say, but I won't mention you, and we'll try and keep everything secret…"

I raised my hand to keep him from speaking. "Shut it, Stark. It's fine, whatever, call who you have to." I rolled my eyes. "Things can't exactly get any worse."

He nodded quickly, looking a bit relieved. "That's true," he agreed. I gave him one of my best death glares and leaned against one of his tables. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed a number, and started out the door. I heard him speaking as he left; someone must have answered. I stayed put; this was not a conversation I wanted to hear. My stomach was already twisting, my heart pounding again. Ugh, it was like handing yourself over to the enemy on a silver platter…

"Ms. Frost?" A voice came from thin air; a week ago, I would've jumped and ran from the building, screaming about ghosts. Now, however, it's become almost commonplace. "Mr. Stark requested that I keep watch of your vitals, and warn you when your heart rate and adrenaline levels accelerate past a certain point."

"Oh," I say, immediately taking a deep breath, trying to calm my heart's rapid beating. "Yah. Thanks, JARVIS."

"You're welcome, Ms. Frost."

"Natalie," I corrected, pulling some more string cheese from my pocket and tossing the wrapper towards the trash. I missed completely, of course; I cursed quietly.

"As you wish, Ms. Natalie."

I glared at the ceiling; probably not where JARVIS was, but when you hear a disembodied voice, you tend to look up, no matter where it's really coming from. At least, I think you would; I'm not exactly experienced with disembodied voices. "Are you always this annoying?"

"Mr. Stark seems to think so, Ms. Natalie."

I grinned. Sarcastic little computer. "Good. I like you, JARVIS."

"That is appreciated, Ms. Natalie."

"Ok, quit saying my name now."

"As you wish."

I grinned again, walking over to the computers quietly. I scanned the screens; through a lot of techno-words and geek-speak, I managed to translate a bit of what was happening. Until I reached the math portions, at least; math hates me, and holds a personal vendetta against me. It has since I was in the third grade and butchered one of my tests. I don't even know what the hell I wrote on that thing, but apparently, math got offended.

I scanned the wordy section. "Subject's condition has not improved since… yadda, yadda, science, science, something about Pink Floyd… Hmm."

"Are you having trouble reading the selection, Ms. Natalie? Shall I read it aloud for you?"

How can a machine sound so condescending? And why wasn't he shutting up with my name? "No, thank you, Mr. JARVIS. I'm doing just fine on my own." I looked back to the screen, my eyes flicking over the words. Sheesh, forget Danish. If I spend enough time with Tony, I'll start being able to speak Nerdese.

"Require possible scan of the something, something…" I started stringing the stick of mozzarella, studying the glowing screen intently as I lowered strings of cheese into my mouth. "Subject needs to manage certain impulse control issues… Hey!" I recognized that one; those psych classes were paying off. I kept reading. "Or risk possible… Meltdowns? … The hell?"

I scrolled down, then glared at the tiny screen. "JARVIS, pull this up to full view," I ordered.

"Of course," he answered, and an enormous hologram burst into life in the center of the room, depicting two pages of notes at once. I flicked my finger across the screen, where a crude sketch of a person surrounded by a bubble was depicted; though how he got that sketch onto the computer escaped me. The bubble was quite literally crushing all in its path.

"Oh," I said, relieved. "I knew that already." I flicked through the pages, stopping whenever I saw words like 'the subject'. "The subject needs to blah, blah… consult JARVIS on possible head trauma caused by nanos… gamma radiation may be the key to something, something, nerd, nerd, math, more math, some more frickin' math… subject needs to stay away from my cheese…" I pulled back, looking at the string cheese in my hand a little guiltily. I shook off the guilt real quick. "JARVIS, put a note here. 'Mad scientist needs to give subject all the cheese she wants, because mad scientist got her into this mess in the first place.'"

There was a beep. "Noted."

I looked back to the screen, but my scanning stopped as Tony said behind me, "You might not like what you read."

Unabashed by the fact that he'd caught me snooping- and editing his notes- I turned to face him. "I don't like anything about this place," I responded.

He smiled and winked roguishly. "Not even me?"

"Especially not you," I answered acidly. "My dog is a better person than you, Stark."

"Well, dogs are better than most people," he answered, shrugging.

"Tell me about it," I rolled my eyes as I walked out of the room. He followed. "Did you get in touch with that… what did you call it? S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Yes." He looked down, a little worriedly. "I tried to keep from telling them anything, but I'm sure they suspected one thing or another. Hopefully we'll get those things out of you before they can find anything out."

"There's no "hopefully" about it. If I go down, I'm bringing you with me. Keep that in mind."

"Duly noted." He shot me a smirk. "I called Banner- my colleague- and, while he wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, he's agreed to help. He'll be here in a day or so."

I hid my relief. "Good. So you don't have to run any more tests between now and then, right? You'll leave me alone?"

He rolled his eyes. "Ah, gee, it's nice to know you care about me so much."

"Trust me; for me, this is caring." I flipped my hair over my shoulder and stalked past him. "I want to be left alone for the next twenty-four hours, understood?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Understood," he agreed.

Author's Note: I know, I know, the whole scene where he explained about the nanobots was rushed and awful. I'm sorry, ok? I meant to make it better, but I couldn't think how so… deal with it. This is fanfiction, and you aren't paying me. Heck, most of you aren't even reviewing. (You know who you are.)

But, to the one person who did review: THANK YOU. If not for you, I doubt I would have even bothered to post another chapter, and this story would have died with a lot of others. So… you are awesome sauce. Please don't send Hulk after me. Area 52 might have to get involved, and since they don't really get along with S.H.I.E.L.D. already… things might get messy.

Also, I used an online translator for the Spanish/Danish phrases, so I might have some grammar/spelling/other mistakes.

The end!