EMERALD

I never really knew how many of our missions really got started. One minute, I was sitting on the couch, typing up another report that Fury requested of all of the Avengers, and the next, I was in Iraq.

I usually let Tony take charge of the logistics behind the missions themselves. I had enough to worry about without adding which terrorist to tackle next to my list.

Today, for example, we were targeting someone the government was tracking for a long time. However, when their spy was murdered, we were the next best defense. These were not people to mess with, and here we were anyway.

I could tell that bugged Tony, at least to the slightest degree. The government still didn't really know how our suits worked and therefore thought we were basically invincible. Not only was it very incorrect, it was also minorly insulting that the government wanted to risk our lives instead of their own soldiers. At least, that was from Rhodey's mouth.

Nonetheless, we knew we were the best at our job, and I, for one, enjoyed the gratification of saving innocent lives.

"What's the story down here?" I asked Tony, dropping down from the sky next to him where he was busy shifting through several stacks of papers.

Tony didn't even budge at my arrival as he continued to sort through the mess that was this entire tent. "He's not home," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Obviously," I retorted. "What did you find?"

He offered me one of the many sheets of paper in his hands, tilting his head to one side. While I couldn't currently see his expression, I could sense the frown on his face. This wasn't what we were warned about.

"Lots of dirty paper trails," he said, verifying the frown I suspected from earlier. He set the papers back down on the table, shaking his head. "JARVIS, scan."

"With pleasure, sir," came the electronic response from the A.I. before a whirring noise confirmed the copying of the information. I wasn't exactly sure what we were supposed to do with all of this, but it was better than showing up empty-handed.

Tony nodded, practically reading my mind. "Send these to anyone who's interested," he said nonchalantly, prompting JARVIS to send the scans back to the government at hand. A second later, his face mask flipped up, solidifying his hardened expression.

"Someone tipped him off," he added, turning to face me.

I tilted my head to one side, tossing up my own mask as well. "Or maybe it's a trap," I voiced my paranoid thoughts aloud as I looked around the tight quarters we were in. "Did you ever consider that?"

"You're the diplomat, Iron Woman," he responded with a teasing smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "You're going to pay for that later," I observed.

"I look forward to it."

I shut my mask back over my eyes, scanning the area to make sure there was nothing that we missed upon our arrival. There was barely any place to hide in here, let alone stash an entire area of terrorists.

"I'm gonna sweep the area, do a recon," I said, already powering up the flight stabilizer. "There has to be something around here that could point us in a solid direction."

At least from a birds-eye view, I could see if Tony was about to be ambushed. I wasn't about to voice that one aloud.

"He's another terrorist selling weapons," Tony declared, unsure of why I was being so paranoid.

To be honest, I wasn't sure either. We had so many wins recently that I was beginning to get suspicious of our success.

"My point exactly," I stated before I jetted off in the sky, leaving Tony alone with the several incriminating documents. "JARVIS, scan the ground for any life forms."

A second passed as I watched the A.I. do a full sweep of the area. "Other than Mister Stark, I see nothing worth noting, save for a few lizards," JARVIS responded, confirming what I already saw.

"Lovely," I practically growled, still feeling on edge.

Tony sensed my frustration, heaving a sigh over the comms. "We should head back," he said. "At least before-"

A crackling sound emitted through my suit, causing me to wince involuntarily. However, I knew my suspicions from earlier weren't for nothing. There was something seriously wrong with this situation.

"Tone?" I questioned, hearing only static emerge from the other end.

My heart practically beat out of my chest as I called his name again to no avail. "JARVIS," I pleaded. "What's going on?"

"From what I'm indicating from Mister Stark's suit, it seems there has been an ambush," he stated. "I am sensing multiple hostiles."

I knew it was a trap.

Immediately setting a beeline course back to the tent, I barked towards JARVIS, "Where the hell did they come from?" I wasn't expecting a clear response. I was only hoping that we weren't way over our heads here.

"My guess is that they had an underground bunker," the A.I. declared. "If they had a metal system down there, we would not have been able to track them."

I swore loudly before I crashed through the roof of the tent, landing in the thick of the fight. Tony was currently trying to fight off about six armed terrorists on his own. It was a little disarming at first, but I knew what I had to do.

A few of the terrorists were jolted by my arrival and turned their guns over on me. I was able to knock two of them aside unconscious easily enough before I felt something lodge in the back of the suit. The entire suit shut itself down in a split second, causing my vision to grow dark in the tent. Swearing, I disassembled the suit in a hurry, letting it collapse to the ground.

"Shit."

I made a dart towards the back flap of the tent, finding a pan laying on the ground. That would have to do for now. I was shocked that they were able to target the one weak spot the suits had, my paranoia creeping back into my system.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tony yelled over at me, noticing the suit laying on the ground.

As bullets started flying again, I deflected them without issue, thanks to the size of the pan in my hand. "Being helpful, you dimwit," I shouted before smacking another goon over the head with the metal pan.

The terrorists seemed to realize that I was the vulnerable one in this situation and, without hesitation, started firing all of their guns in my direction. I instantly flipped the table in front of me over, finding a gun strapped to the inside of the furniture.

"Well, that was convenient," I muttered to myself, praying that it was loaded.

Luck was on my side.

I took down a few more terrorists, targeting limbs as best as I could, before a click sounded in the gun, signaling that my ammunition had run dry. I was really hoping that would last longer.

"Tony?" I shouted, ducking back behind the table.

"A little busy!"

Great.

I was running out of options. Frantically glancing around the room, I tried to find another source of weaponry. Just when I was about to give up, I spotted two knives resting on the far table in the room. That would have to do for now.

"Cover me!" I cried towards Tony before making a run for it, sliding towards the table and grabbing the knives within a split second. I felt a bullet graze the side of my arm, but there was no stopping now.

In another second, the knives were lodged in the remaining two terrorists' shoulders. With another blast to the side from Tony, they were all down for the count.

"Well," I said, breathing heavily from my position laying on the ground. "That was something."

As I laid back across the ground, catching my breath, Tony popped his helmet off, sending me an incredulous glance. "Were you out of your mind?" he questioned.

"Last I checked, I was still able to save the world without my suit," I pointed out, propping myself up on my elbows.

He folded his arms across his chest, not relenting. "What if something happened to you?" he asked.

"It did!" I exclaimed, gesturing to the broken suit on the ground. "I handled it."

Sighing, I got to my feet slowly, wiping the blood from a cut over my eye. My arm was throbbing, but I had seen worse.

"You should have a backup suit," Tony said, shaking his head. "I'm going to get on that."

I gave him a look, rubbing my bloodied hands on my jeans. "Would you relax?" I cried. "I'm fine." Standing there, I simply stared at him for a few more moments before I spoke again. "I spent a solid two months fighting terrorists without a suit before New York, or did you forget about that?"

"You're getting comfortable," Tony argued. "That's when mistakes happen."

Like this particular mission. I didn't say that part out loud.

"Or," I chose to say instead. "I just trust my partner."

He threw me an irritated look, knowing what I was trying to do. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with another pointed glance.

"I can take care of myself," I said quickly. "As much as I love you for wanting to."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Em."

He said it so quietly that I thought I misheard him for a moment. Tilting my head to one side, my gaze of annoyance morphed into one of concern.

"What?" I questioned.

"You don't need me anymore," he repeated himself, a sad glance passing over his face like a shadow. "I went into that wormhole, and I did not come out the same person. I know what's out there, but you don't. You go around thinking that this is the worst thing that could happen to you, but it's not. I have nightmares about losing you, about losing everything."

My irritation melted away instantly as I headed over to Tony's side, placing a hand on his cheek. "Hey," I whispered, smiling up at him. "I'm right here, and like it or not, I need you just as much as you need me. We're partners, remember?"

Whether my words helped ease his tension or not, he forced a small grin on his face back down at me. He heaved a sigh, prompting me to drop my hand back to my side.

"You want to stop in Paris on the way home?" he asked, completely changing the subject. "I have a craving for French onion soup."

I raised an eyebrow at his blunt topic change. "Seriously?" I questioned before I shrugged my shoulders. "You know I can't turn that down."

"I'll call the Quinjet," he volunteered immediately, punching in a code on the arm of the suit.

Rolling my eyes, I brushed off the remaining dust and dirt from my jacket. With the suit all but destroyed for now, we didn't have very many options in regard to getting back home. Luckily, I still remembered how to fly a plane from the pre-suit days.

There were some sentences that still felt weird to think in my head. That was one of them. I knew how to fly a plane.

"We're talking about this later!" I shouted at his retreating back.

When we reached the restaurant in Paris, I finally managed to wash the rest of the blood off of my skin. There was something about this city that made me feel at peace, and not just because I spoke the language fluently. I was thankful that even in the winter, Parisians enjoyed being outside.

As we sat at a table outside our frequent restaurant, I let my gaze rest on the people around us. There were a few people staring in our direction, but I barely noticed anymore. It came with the territory.

"I hate you for being so extra," I complained as the waiter put our plates in front of us.

Tony smirked, taking a spoonful of his soup. "I think the words you are looking for are 'you're welcome,'" he teased.

"Now, you're just a hypocrite," I said, referring to our earlier encounter from a week ago when he refused to acknowledge my assistance.

I blinked rapidly as a flash shone our direction, signaling that our picture was being taken once again. Sighing, I tried to look as photogenic as possible while eating a sandwich.

"Do you ever get used to this?" I said, nodding in the latest paparazzi person's direction.

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "I just ignore them," he commented, turning his full attention towards me. "Or we can give them a show." He waggled his eyebrows which earned him an eye roll from my direction.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

"You will too," he replied. "I mean, dating me doesn't really give you much of a choice."

I raised an eyebrow, unable to keep the smile from creeping on my face. "Oh, is that the only reason that I'm a celebrity?" I questioned.

"You're also a very sexy superhero," he responded easily, seizing the opportunity of my face flushing to steal a piece of my food.

I gaped in his direction in shock before I flicked some water in his face. "You need to stop," I said, although a giggle still erupted from my lips.

There was a moment that we sat there, simply laughing at each other, and I immediately felt at peace. "I could get used to this," I voiced aloud.

"The French onion soup?"

I made a face, debating whether to flick more water in his face. "No, you goon," I teased. "The spotlight." I glanced over at the paparazzi who seemed to be back enjoying their meal. "It means that we're doing some good in this world."

Tony placed a hand on top of mine, and I glanced back over in his direction with a curious smile. I really could get used to this.

"Have you heard from Pandora lately?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I laughed. "You know, I think that's the first time you actually called her by name," I observed.

"Don't tell her."

As much as I missed the dynamics between the rest of the Avengers, and I missed my best friend dearly, I was grateful for the time that I had with just Tony. We spent the past six months being practically inseparable, save for Rhodey. I was surprised he still put up with us.

"I haven't heard from her since she left for Washington," I said honestly, shrugging my shoulders. "But I know SHIELD, and I know they'll keep her busy training. I just hope she's safe."

"I'm sure she says the same thing about you," Tony replied, pausing for a minute as he debated asking another question. I knew he would. "Why do you think she left Steve behind?"

I heaved a sigh, playing with my necklace as I considered his question. There were a lot of variables that I didn't know, but I could still hear the hidden pain behind Pandora's voice on the voicemail she left me. Something had gotten under her skin.

"I have no idea," I finally said. "I didn't ask because that's none of my business." I shook my head. "Maybe she wanted to be her own person for a little while."

"I think you proved that you can do both," Tony pointed out.

He wasn't wrong.

"That's because you know you can't tell me what to do without me telling you about yourself," I pestered him, nudging his shoulder.

This time, it was Tony's turn to look shocked. I laughed out loud at his face, covering my mouth with my hands to avoid any more unwanted attention.

"Wow," was all he was able to get out before my cell phone rang.

"Saved by the bell."

I smirked, picking up the call without checking the caller ID. I desperately needed out of this conversation. "Hello?" I asked.

"How's Paris?"

Cursing myself for not checking my caller ID, I tried my hardest to force a happy tone to my voice. Whenever Pepper Potts called me, I knew it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation.

Once Tony and I went public with our relationship, things had settled down between us. She at least had the decency to respect our space after everything that we went through in New York, but her hostility towards me never faded. It was really getting old.

Still, she was Tony's friend and the owner of his company. I played nice, most of the time anyway.

I didn't even question how she knew where we were. The number of pictures that were probably already circulating the Internet with Tony and me at lunch was unimaginable.

"You're costing me international minutes, Pep," I responded. "What do you need?"

"Stop by Stark Industries when you get back," she stated. "I have some things to discuss with you."

Suspicion rose instantly in my brain. "What kind of things?" I questioned, hesitating only slightly.

"We'll talk when you get here."

A dial tone signaled that the line was cut off, and I pulled the phone away from my ear with a puzzled expression on my face. Frowning, my mind rapidly started to think about all of the million possibilities that Pepper wanted to see me.

Tony sensed my bewilderment before I could even say anything. "What was that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow to match my frown.

"Pepper wants me to stop by Stark Industries."

"Maybe she wants to amend your friendship."

I laughed dryly. Only Tony would say something wishful along those lines. He already tried way too hard to get us in the same room on many occasions.

"Oh no, that would require her to be actually sincere," I said. "I don't think she has a sincere bone in her body."

He tossed me a look, clearly showing his unappreciation for my tone of voice. "Play nice," he warned to which I rolled my eyes.

"It's like you don't even know me at all."

In the end, it didn't even matter. I was the one who was happy and in love, and she was the one who was trying to play mind games. Whatever she wanted, it couldn't be anything life-shattering.

At least, that was what I told myself.