To say Nick Fury doesn't know the happenings going on in his own goddamn headquarters is a grossly ignorant statement. He knows things about his subordinates that would make their mothers blush. He knew which employees were dating who(filed and not), which employee went to yoga classes in the morning, and which ones were prone to eating other peoples' lunches from break room fridges.
He knows what they do, how they do it, and which one of them fucks up first. So yes, he's well aware of what his Agents do, on and off the clock. While it was unreasonable to assume that just because he had one eye that meant he couldn't see all, it was also unreasonable to assume that Fury knew everything that was going on with his Agents every minute of every day.
It was close, but still.
He has things to do, goddammit; keeping up with his dumbass employees social(and lack thereof) lives is not high on his list of things to do.
So when Tony Stark is walking out of his office in the middle of a post mission report by Captain America, without so much as a half assed dismissal to the rest of them, Fury is a little curious-however much it fucking pains him to say-as to why.
Of course, this takes second to the immediate flare of irritation that nearly always accompanies any situation that involves Stark.
"Stark!" He yells instinctively, slamming his palms down hard on the top of his desk.
"You better hope you're not behind this, Fury."
And Fury, Fury would shoot himself in his own goddamn leg with his own gun before admitting it if it wasn't part of the job description, but he knew Stark. He knew the smile and charming facade that Stark put on before going out to parties and ritzy social gatherings, he knew an emotionally and physically drained Stark, a dying Stark, and more often then not, an emotionally constipated smart ass dick Stark. Lord help him for knowing the differences, but it was his job; if he couldn't pick out the differences in tones his Agents use with just the barest, barely there inflections, a lot of people would be dead. Literally. So when he catches the faint tilt at the end of Stark's sentence, his eyes narrow. A moment later his attention snaps back to the rest of the Avengers.
"I'll expect a written follow up of the rest of the events, Captain. Dismissed."
They leave.
Thoughtfully, Fury leans back in his chair and staples his fingers together.
"Sir?" Agent Hill asks, having poked her head in cautiously. "The Avengers just left after Stark. He didn't appear too pleased."
Fury scoffs. "I want to be notified immediately if that man looks 'too pleased' on S.H.I.E.L.D. property."
"Duly noted, Sir."
"Hill," he said after a moment.
"Sir?"
"I'd like a report of personal and work-related happenings going on here. Preferably by tomorrow."
"...Uh. Any particular reason I'll be digging up gossip, Sir?"
"Because I'm your fucking boss?" He suggested without any real heat. "Just get me that report, Hill."
"Of course, Sir." She replied dryly, and ducked out.
And because Agent Hill succeeded Agent Coulson for a reason-besides the fact of her reluctance to go within thirty yards of the Avengers on any given day-he had that report by noon.
Said Agent kept her place as he picked up the folder.
"Agent?" He asked blandly, glancing up.
"Sir. As per your... Request," her eyebrows winged up, which Fury steadily ignored in favor of giving her the full force of his attention, made no less intense by his lack of one eye. "All findings have been reported. I think," she went on, cautiously, and Fury's gaze sharpened. "That you should perhaps read Section A-B 13-4 first."
"Why would that be, Agent Hill?"
"It... Relates most directly to Stark." Her tone, and gaze, is solemn. "More to the point, Sir, his tech. His tech that is not a weapon, nor was designed for such."
"Hell," Fury mutters.
"Yes, Sir."
"What idiot decided this was a good idea?"
"Louis and Carmichael from Tech. Sir."
Frowning hard, Fury stared down at the folder between his hands. After a few silent moments, Hill spoke back up.
"Sir? What will we do?"
Slowly, Fury said, "What can we do? These are just rumors, after all."
They could do a hell of a lot based on rumors alone. Hill's eyebrows lifted.
"Nothing," he clarified. Then, "For now."
"Of course, Sir."
Truth be told, Fury didn't like Stark. This was not a secret, nor did he make it out to be one. The man was irresponsible, disrespectful, and just a general all around caring asshole; oh, he thought he was being clever. Show the world you care for it, but be flippant about it, and they'll think it's one more joke and never see how deep that empathy runs.
Most of all, though, Fury's biggest problem with the man was that he was unreliable. An unreliable Agent in the field is a liability, not only to himself and his teammates but the organization that he works for. It was originally why he was so reluctant to let Stark join the Avengers Initiative in the first place; he needed to know that if he couldn't at least trust his Agents, he could control them.
Neither apply overly much to Stark.
Honestly, Fury would appreciate any reason to kick Stark out of his goddamn building and off his goddamn Initiative. He also occasionally wants to do it to Barton and Banner as well, but Stark? He takes the cake. Has to be first for everything, and this is no exception.
So maybe this is equal parts curiosity to see what the billionaire will do now, and if it'll be something that Fury can get him arrested for. Hell, if he's lucky, finally find a viable excuse to get his ass off the Initiative.
Despite the vehement claims otherwise, Stark is in possessions of one of the most bleeding hearts Fury has ever seen; and however much the man assures otherwise, he is predictable. In that he is unpredictable.
And it annoys him to no fucking end.
So when Agent Hill approaches him two days after his request for intel in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and just says, "His AI.", Fury is understandably put on edge at this new information.
Because Stark, Stark is right up there with dumbass stunts pulled to protect those he cares about next to Agent Barton and Romanov, except at least Romanov takes time to formulate a goddamn plan and Barton doesn't have the money to fully put forth any revenge he feels the need to employ on those who have wronged him or his.
Stark has a habit of never doing the first and unfortunately for his ulcer, has more than enough of the second. It's a dangerous combination, one that could very well(and occasionally does) endanger all around him. It's not like he can just pull him out of the Initiative though, as Fury is very well aware that the insufferable man will just put on his goddamn tin suit and fly around anyway; he'd much rather have him where he can watch him.
So when nothing happens for days, Fury is understandably on edge... More than usual. He's having Tech scan their own damn Network every other hour, security cameras are set to the highest function to notice the littlest of movement, and he's popping antacids like tictacs.
Not that anyone knows this. He's swept his office four different times in the last twelve hours; nobody, not even Hill, is aware of just how many rolls he's gone through.
There hasn't been a person who wasn't hugged enough as a child hellbent on destroying mankind in days; paperwork isn't piling high on his desk, coming in faster than he honestly cares to keep track of; and no one has been dumb enough to file a report on their stolen lunches in the break room fridge in a week. One would think Fury might actually be able to relax, to sit back and enjoy the relative peace and silence that his job so rarely allows him, no matter how brief it may be.
"Sir," Hill's voice says through the intercom on his desk. "You might want to come take a look at this. Video feed, Tech division, Section three."
One would be wrong.
"I'll be right there," he replies, index and middle fingers pressed viciously into his already throbbing temple. He pops three more antacids before he leaves, putting on his No Bullshit face as he walks toward the main area where various Agents are gathered around the huge holographic screen where a scowling Hill is shifting her weight from side to side. Beside the view, Tony Stark, dressed in a spotless suit and sporting a pair of one of his ridiculous sunglasses is entering Tech.
"Do I intercede?" Hill asks, staring directly into the security camera, frowning hard.
Eyes narrowed thoughtfully, Fury presses the intercom button for that hallway. "No. Stand down for now. If it looks like Stark is going to get violent, take him down."
"Understood."
Fury shifts his attention to the second screen, gaze hard and unsurprised when Stark casually strolls into the room as if he owns it.
"Hello, children." He greets flippantly, charmingly mocking smirk already in place. Fury's eyebrow goes up when he see's the hidden razor-edge quality hiding underneath it. And then he starts in.
S.H.I.E.L.D. is home to some... Hell, most of the deadliest people on Earth. People who will gut you after you buy them dinner and slit your throat when your back is turned, knew how to kill others a hundred different ways with their hands alone. Christ, they could tell you with the most serious expression you have ever witnessed that they shit bricks of gold; and get you to believe them.
More than half the rooms' occupants flinch back only a dozen words into Starks' casually delivered speech, and Fury is holding himself back with will alone. He hates, he loathes to admit it, but he's actually just a bit impressed with the creative insults the man is throwing out.
And, if he were being totally honest, wary. Fury has seen many shades of Tony Stark, has made it his job to recognize each enunciation of certain sentences because it is his job and he takes his job fucking seriously, so he knows this tone; he knows the bubbling rage that's kept on a tight leash underneath it, given only enough slack to snap at the heels of those passing by, enough flesh caught to pierce the skin and sting viciously and yet not enough to bleed.
He knows this, but never from Stark. Not like this.
On screen, some of his employee's hastily cut themselves off mid sentence.
"That's what I thought."
Fury tilts his head back, watching. Waiting.
"And to you all-yeah, that includes you, Popeye-" Several Agents gasp, which Fury will be forced to rectify later, but for now just settles on curling his upper lip. "If any of you attempt anything again on any of my 'bots or technology, I'm going to personally make sure that none of you are legally able to set foot in Columbia again."
There are murmurs now starting amongst the Agents around the room; this once, Fury keeps his full attention on Stark.
"And then send you to Columbia. Do you know what they do to you in Columbia? Absolutely fucking nothing that could hope to compare to what I will do to all of you if you go near what is mine again. This is nothing. You should thank me for only going as far as I did. Because I promise you, if this happens again, which I know it won't, this place will burn."
He doesn't doubt it.
Feeling years older, Fury rubs his forehead-several more Agents gasp, he is going to send them on fucking stake out missions for months-and reaches for his phone. The screen is empty now but for emotional Tech employee's. Every other screen, Stark is calmly strolling through the hallways toward the exit.
"Director," Natasha greets smoothly, voice light and almost playful in a way that makes Fury's fingers twitch to draw his sidearm. "What a lovely surprise."
"Just come and get this motherfucker before he makes good on his threat and channels his inner pyromaniac." He very nearly sighs.
"With pleasure, Sir."
He snaps the phone closed just as Hill appears at his side. "Sir?"
"Get Louis and Carmichael up here," he says, spine straightening. "They're on paper duty until hell rains fuckin' kittens."
I kinda... Feel the need to explain this one. I really, really wanted to make Fury an unlikeable character in this; he's an asshole, he knows he's an asshole, and he doesn't pretend otherwise. To me, if someone can get you to really, really dislike a character(and I mean like the kind of dislike you still have for that kid who spilt milk down the front of your new shirt at school that one time that you're sure you'll never get over) then that shows true skill. It's so easy to like fictional characters someone's written; but when people can really get down and dirty disliking them, that's when you know you've done a job well done. I really, really hope I've accomplished it here.
Um, anyway. Good news!(?) I love overprotective!Tony so much, watch out for the sequel coming out shortly. There'll be more overprotective!Tony, and even scary!protective!JARVIS. Look forward to that. Peace out, motherfuckers.