A/N: Hey guys! If any of you are following Iron Man Knows All...I apologize for that. It was too much to resist. However, this is the real deal for this story. I'm honestly really, really proud of this. I hope you guys enjoy. I honestly don't know when the next chapter will be up, so just hang with me. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave a review, and maybe take the poll on my page and read my other stories!
BTW, before I wrote this author's note, this chapter had 2,222 words.
~PJA
Chapter 4: Tony
To be perfectly honest, Tony loved having Bruce in his physics class. He had a brilliant mind and was great to work with, and actually knew and cared about what he was doing.
However, he was skeptical about having him in his gym class.
Not that Tony himself was too terribly gung-ho about athletics, but he did go to the gym sometimes. However, he was a bit weary about how the scrawny Banner would perform in gym class.
But, being Tony Stark, and the great friend that he was, he was very enthusiastic about having a friend in his gym class two classes later. He and Bruce entered the gym, joining the mob of students already there.
However, some idiot decided it would be a great idea to bump into him.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" the idiot snapped at him.
"You're the one doing the tango over here! Besides, do you know who you're talking to?"
"Nope. Definitely have never seen you or your father before."
Tony stopped and looked the idiot in the face. He looked just as pleased as Tony was. His blue eyes were lit aflame, directly in line with Tony's own. He seemed to be challenging him. Tony narrowed his own eyes.
"Oh, really? Who do you think you are?"
"I think I am who I am."
"You're a smart-ass, you know that?"
"I'm told every day."
"And Example A, right here."
"He's already on Example Z. Don't flatter yourself."
Tony looked for the source of the new voice. It was a girl, standing right next to the idiot. And, despite himself, Tony had to take a good look. She had deep red curls, pouty lips, and curves, and it was all Tony could do to keep his demeanor. To be honest, she was smoking. But, from the way the idiot stood, it was obvious she was already taken.
He was surprised the idiot wasn't holding her hand.
"I'm offended. The great Tony Stark, demoted to Example Z? How could I?"
The idiot scowled and placed his hand on the girl's shoulder, leading her away. "And he goes around calling other people smart-ass," he mumbled.
Tony made a face at them as they dispersed into the crowd. Bruce smirked.
"What, jealous 'cause you found someone just as smart-ass as you?"
"Pfft. No. No way. No one can compete with Tony Stark." Tony beamed. "Who was that, anyway?"
"No idea. Never seen him before."
"And the girl?"
"Now her, I've run into before. Her name, I believe, is Romanoff. Well, that's her last name. I forget her first name. Something like Natalie or Nadia, or Natalia or something."
"How'd you meet her?"
"Ran into her at an international show convention thing. You know, where you have information and presentations about some specific countries. I was representing India; she was representing Russia. She's fluent, you know."
"Really?"
"And she can cuss you out in it."
"You don't have to warn me."
A whistle blew, interrupting their conversation. The two boys turned their heads toward the shrill noise, their attention brought to the gym teacher.
He was a slightly big guy, black, had an overpowering demeanor and, for some reason, instead of wearing typical gym attire, he was wearing a black trench coat. And, additional to that, he was wearing an eye patch. Tony wondered what he did to get it.
"Attention, class, this is not a social hour! I expect work and respect from all of you," he announced.
"Sounds like he's never taught at a high school before," Tony whispered to Bruce, making him chuckle.
Apparently, the man had super-sonic hearing, because he whipped his head toward Tony, his eye boggling for a moment as his gaze lingered. "Well, well. Look who I have the honor of teaching this year. Mr. Stark?"
Tony bristled, a little uncomfortable. "That's my name, don't wear it out. It needs to stay nice and in-style."
The man grunted. "Mr. Stark. I expect more from you in this class."
"In here? It's gym class. No one cares, Mr..."
"Fury."
A shiver was sent down Tony's spine. That voice sounded familiar and set off alarm bells, but he didn't know why. "Mr. Fury. I personally do not care about gym class, and I don't particularly want to try."
Mr. Fury gave him the evil eye. "I know your father, Mr. Stark."
Tony stopped cold. He knew his father? That couldn't be a good thing. How did he know his father? Was he a friend? A co-worker? An employee? An agent sent by his father to watch him at school to make sure he didn't do anything stupid?
Tony opened his mouth to ask him a couple questions, but Mr. Fury turned his attention away from Tony back to the rest of the class.
"I'm not going to start off the year with a bunch of 'expectations' and 'rules' and nonsense. Just put in a lot of effort and don't be stupid. We're going to start off the year by playing a few games of badminton."
There were mixed reactions to this. Some of the students groaned, while others cheered. Badminton, for Tony, seemed like a useless game. It was like tennis, but...stupider. Instead of a ball, there was a birdie. And you weren't even allowed to gloat, 'cause no one cared if you won a badminton game. However, for all its negatives, Tony was half-decent at badminton. He wasn't terrible, but he wasn't the best. Bruce, however, he wasn't so sure about.
"Get into teams of two," Mr. Fury declared. "I'll decide who plays who."
Tony immediately put his arm around Bruce, laying claim to his partner. Luckily for him, no one else really seemed to want Bruce.
After pairing up some other groups, Mr. Fury sauntered up to Tony and Bruce. "You two will be playing Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff."
Romanoff? Wait a minute, that was the girl the idiot was with. And that meant...
"We meet again."
Tony looked up to find that Mr. Fury had led the two over to Tony and Bruce, and currently he was staring into the eyes of the now-named idiot, Clint Barton.
"Aw, come on, Fury!" Tony complained. "I don't wanna play against this idiot!"
The ice in the idiot's - Clint's - eyes flared up again. However, Fury's eyes twinkled mischievously. "All the more reason for you to play them. Go play in that corner court over there. The equipment is waiting for you."
Tony couldn't believe it. He, Tony Stark, was being forced to play against this...idiot. Perhaps now was the perfect time to bump his title up to moron. Tony, scowling, motioned to Bruce and led him to the corner court, hoping to get as far away from Clint the moron and his girlfriend, no matter how pretty she was, as possible.
When they arrived, they picked up their racquets, twisting them around in their hands. They seemed lighter than the last time Tony remembered picking one up...no, wait, that had been a tennis racket. Damn.
Tony glanced at the opposing side, checking out their competition. Both of them seemed perfectly comfortable with the racquets in their hands, and Clint was currently bouncing the birdie on his. Tony began to get a little nervous.
"Uh...Bruce?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"How good are you at badminton?"
"Fairly okay. I played a little bit at my middle school."
"Okay...I just don't want to lose too embarrassingly."
Bruce chuckled. "You got it."
"Hey! Are you guys ready or are you still primping yourselves?" Clint's voice boomed across the court. Tony stood up and looked him in the eye.
"Come at me, bro."
Clint didn't seem to take this very lightly. He tossed the birdie in the air, and smacked it with a force Tony didn't expect from the guy. The birdie was on the floor at his feet before he'd even seen it move.
Tony looked up to see a wide grin on Clint's face. He spun his racquet in his fingers.
"I believe that is a point for us."
Tony shared a look with Bruce.
"I want her to serve the next one," Tony told Clint, pointing at Natasha. "I don't like the way you serve."
Clint grinned like he knew something they didn't. "O-kay. You might regret that decision."
Tony was skeptical. He tossed the birdie over the net to Natasha, who caught it in one hand.
What followed, Tony did not see, but he heard. He heard Natasha smack the birdie even harder than Clint did, and then the next thing he knew Bruce was on the ground screaming "Ow!" and clutching his right eye. Tony widened his eyes in fear, then rushed to Bruce's side.
"Bruce! What happened?"
Bruce was breathing heavily, trying to steady his breaths. Tony thought he looked a little green, but the idea was gone as soon as it came. "The birdie got me in the eye."
"What? I didn't even see that thing move."
"Well, it got me."
"Are you okay?"
Bruce removed his hand from his face and blinked a few times. "Yeah, I'm okay."
Tony whipped his head toward the opposing court, fuming. "What the hell was that?"
The other two could only grin.
"You should've listened to Clint," Natasha said, the birdie miraculously back in her hand. Tony noticed that she spoke little, but she had a smooth voice that he was sure Clint loved to listen to.
Tony scowled. "Fine. Give the birdie back to the moron."
So she tossed the birdie to Tony.
"Give it to Clint," he said through gritted teeth.
Clint chuckled as he caught the birdie. "Glad to know you don't think I'm a moron, Tasha."
"I've just never said it."
"Aw, you wound me."
"Hey! Moron!" Tony called. "Stop flirting with your girlfriend and serve!"
Clint's face flushed a deep red. "What? You eager to lose?"
"I can't lose! I'm Tony freaking Stark!"
"I hate to break it to you, but you're currently losing."
Tony looked him in the eye. "Give me all you've got."
Soon, the badminton game was over, and for a lack of better words, Tony and Bruce got pummeled. It was embarrassing how badly they lost. They never got the opportunity to serve; in fact, between the two of them, they hit the birdie a total of three times. The birdie was continually pelted onto their court, but eventually they were able to see it. They attempted to make some dives and saves, but all they did was crash into each other. He'd heard Clint's laugh enough times now to have it memorized.
When the whistle was blown, signaling the end of the games, Tony had to restrain himself to not throw down his racquet. He was humiliated. He was Tony freaking Stark. He shouldn't ever be in a state like this. He was not only humiliated; he was mad.
Clint smiled as he and Natasha passed by him, again spinning his racquet.
"Well, I had fun, Stark. Perhaps we should do it again sometime."
Tony wasn't thinking as he spat out, "What, did your mother teach you to hit like that? She could've done better."
Obviously this set off something in Clint. His eyes lit up with an anger that Tony hadn't seen before. His lip curled into a snarl, his body conforming into an animalistic stance.
"Take. That. Back."
"Why should I?"
The only reason Clint didn't tear Tony's face off was because Natasha had an iron grip. Clint launched himself at Tony in a fit of complete anger, but Natasha held him back.
"Don't do it, Clint. It's not worth it."
"But-"
"No."
Her voice was firm and cold, and she obviously had a hand over Clint. Still gripping both of his arms behind his back, she led him away.
Bruce turned to face Tony, his face also angry, though not half as angry as Clint's. "What the hell was that for?"
"I...I don't know," Tony admitted. "I wasn't thinking. I just said the crap on the tip of my tongue. I didn't mean it. Not a word. I was just...mad." He was honest. He felt terrible. He didn't mean anything bad toward the guy. He just didn't like that his ego was also big, and that he had the nerve to gloat in front of him.
Bruce sighed and shook his head. "You and your ego have created a problem. You have to go to Clint and apologize."
"What? Why should I do that?"
Bruce was serious. "Because it's polite. And you don't want Clint to stew around in misery and anger, do you?"
"...No."
"Exactly. Now, we have lunch next, right?"
"Yes."
"Now when class lets out, go catch Clint in the hallway and apologize."
Tony let out a deep sigh. "Okay."
Tony marveled at the fact that even though he had only met Bruce today, he trusted him more than he had anyone in years. And Bruce was already watching over him like a babysitter. But he was cool, too.
The bell rung in their ears, letting class out. Tony spotted Clint across the gym, hurrying out the gym with Natasha on his heels.
Bruce saw them, too. He gave Tony a look.
He nodded. "Yeah, I know. I gotta go catch them."
