Here is chapter 6!

In which fights happen... just not the big kind of fight.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Fights

The cold air was nipping at my nose as I walked outside. For the beginning of March, I had to say that, while it was normal in Quebec to have such temperatures at this time of the year, I thought that it would be warmer in New York than in Montreal. Not that I was whining too much; the crisp air was doing wonders on my boiling mind, cooling it down for a while.

But I really should have thought about a hooded coat and some gloves.

Shivering slightly, I pressed my nose into the navy blue scarf wrapped around my neck and tried to push my hands deeper into my coat's pockets.

A little voice in the back of my mind whispered that I should have stayed at the Tower. But after a particularly heavy fight with Vanessa, the thought of stomping off to my bedroom and locking myself in seemed too childish to me. I had grabbed a coat and a pair of running shoes instead and had gone outside to breathe a bit of fresh air.

The fight with Ness had been about her growing irritation with my obstinacy to keep things to myself and, in my case, my growing annoyance with her over-protectiveness. I wasn't a teenager anymore and I believed that I was perfectly able to think by myself, make mistakes and take good decisions.

Thing is…

It wasn't the first fight.

In fact, in the last week, I had fought with Vanessa more than I could remember fighting with her in a whole month. She was worried, accusing me of not taking care of myself and was probably still a little shocked about the whole kidnapping ordeal too. I was growing restless, irritated and was taking care of myself, thank you. Regular visits at the gym had finally gotten rid of the pain in my shoulder and made me lose a bit of weight I was not even aware that I had taken. A new laptop had permitted me to go back to my job, even if I had to revise my Italian so that I wouldn't mix some words with the Spanish equivalents.

I was feeling a lot better.

This was why the accusations over the assumption that I was apparently not taking care of myself had blown a fuse or two.

I uselessly kicked a rock and watched it bounce down the street. This street was a small one and there weren't so much people. In fact… I didn't recognize the buildings.

I was lost.

"Holy…" I breathed deeply. "Okay, then. I'll take a taxi to go back home."

Home… I shook my head. What was I saying? Home was kilometers away. I would take a taxi to go back to the Tower.

A quick look to my watch informed me that I had been outside for approximately an hour and a half, which was probably why my ears felt as if they were about to freeze. I removed my hands from my now warm coat pockets and pressed them over my ears, gritting my teeth at the sudden twinge of pain it caused.

"Mraow."

I felt my irritation melt as I spotted the source of the noise. It was a pepper and salt colored cat with a crooked tail. It was looking at me curiously, bluish green eyes observing me attentively. The cold forgotten for a while, I crouched and rubbed two fingers together.

"Hey, cat. Come here."

It didn't move, only blinked lazily. I smirked and took a small step forward, still crouching, careful not to startle the feline. "Come." I called softly, taking another cautious step forward. The cat suddenly came to me, sniffing the offered hand carefully, as if looking for a hidden poison. When it looked satisfied with its inspection, I gently reached to pet its head.

It pressed its head against my palm in answer and I felt warmth bloom in my chest when it began to purr as I scratched its ears.

"Well, aren't you a pretty one." I murmured, trailing my fingers along its neck, smiling widely when it tried to follow the movement. I brought my hand back to scratching its ears and the cat seemed very content with this. It flopped down on its side and looked at me accusingly when I stopped my attentions for a few seconds to take another step forward and sit down.

The feline's purrs were soothing and I forgot the cold pavement under my ass, the cold wind blowing my hair in my face and the fact that my fingers felt a bit stiff. All that mattered was how calm I felt and the fact that I had missed the feel of a cat's fur under my fingers.

I loved cats. I had grown up with cats. And I had decided to adopt two or three cats at the SPCA once I would have bought a small house at the end of my university years.

The sudden vibration in my pocket and the melody of "Hakuna Matata" brought me back to reality and I fished out my cell from my pocket, looking mournfully at the cat's departing silhouette.

"Hakuna Matata" meant Vanessa.

With a sigh, I answered.

"Yes?"

"Alexanne De Bellefeuille, where the fuck are you?"

"Somewhere in New York City, why?" I answered while standing and waving an arm to interest a taxi. One saw me.

"Where?" Vanessa stressed the word and I frowned. What was her problem? I shook my head before entering the taxi and pressing a hand over the microphone. "Stark Tower." I told the taxi driver before comfortably settling back.

"Going back to the Tower." I answered Ness' previous question calmly. "I'm in a taxi right now."

"Have you checked your watch?" she bit out and I could feel the annoyance rising up again. I checked my watch. 12:33. Oops.

"Oops. Sorry." I had told however had been paying attention to me before going out that I would be back before lunch. Lunch was normally at 12:00, unless your name was Tony Stark… or Alexanne De Bellefeuille, I guess. "Listen, I'm just about thirty minutes late and I didn't see the time pass by."

"Alexanne! You've been gone for about two hours and a half! What were you doing?"

"Walking!" I said angrily, but keeping my voice low. No need to interest the driver to the stupid fight I was having with Ness… again. "Listen. I'll be at the Tower in maximum…" I looked outside, starting to recognize some buildings, "in max fifteen minutes. See you then." And I ended the call.

Jesus. What was wrong with us?

*o*O*o*O*o*

"Hey! What's for lunch? I'm starving." I walked into the kitchen, gently rubbing my cold ears to bring back some heat into them. I caught a whiff of something like… "Eggs?"

"Omelette." Steve answered, gesturing toward the two plates on the counter top. "One for Tony, one for you."

"You know what?" I grabbed some utensils before picking up the two plates. "I'll bring Tony his omelette. I'm curious to see his workshop." In fact, I wanted to avoid Vanessa's possible wrath and eat in peace before confronting her – again – about her over-protectiveness. I did not need to be monitored 24 hours a day, thank you very much.

Steve gave me a gentle smile. "Make sure he eats it, though. If he asks for what's in it, tell him that there is shredded cheddar, green pepper, mushrooms…"

I cut him with a small shake of head and a smirk. "I'll tell him there is no poison in his omelette. I think it shall suffice." I gave Steve a small nod and exited the kitchen feeling lighter. Apart from the uncomfortable situation between Nessa and me, my day was going quite well. I had slept well, the walk had been refreshing, petting the cat had been comforting and I had managed to talk with Steve without making a fool of myself.

I was whistling "Olympic Fanfare and Theme" when I entered Tony's workshop and the genius looked up from his blue screens with a frown. He turned toward me, the frown morphing into a smirk when he caught sight of the omelettes.

"Did Steve send you?" he asked. I gave him a plate and a fork and he eagerly began to eat. He let out a happy noise. "I have to say, Capsicle's cooking is great."

"Nope, Steve didn't send me. I offered my services." I answered, carefully pushing some papers and a StarkPad or two to clear a spot on the desk. I sat down, took a small bite of the omelette and let out an appreciative sigh. I was very hungry and the omelette was divine. "Hmm… True. That's really good." I took another bite.

We ate in silence, strangely comfortable together. Tony raised an amused eyebrow when I finished my omelette before him and silently watched me as I trailed a curious finger over the surface of one of the glowing screens, letting out a surprised noise – I did not squeak – when it made the window displaying images of what looked like special arrows disappear.

"Sorry! Not touching anything else!" I said, crossing my arms and tucking my hands under my armpits. Tony chuckled and tapped twice on the screen. The arrows came back into view. Curiosity took over and I hesitantly reached out for another screen, tapping on a folder. It opened on a few written documents and I met Tony's brown eyes, silently asking for permission. He quickly scanned the screen before nodding.

"Go on. If you are interested by technique documents on the arc reactor that I have yet to find someone trustworthy and competent to translate them in French, Italian, Russian…"

"I can." It came out before I could even think about it and Tony looked up at me, surprised. Embarrassed, I chewed on my lower lip before continuing. "I mean… ah, well. I'm a translator, see? And my first language is French and I'm not so bad in Italian… Becoming good, in Italian, come to think of it. I also know German and Spanish. I guess I could… uh… see what I can do." I spluttered, dragging a hand through my long dark hair.

"Japanese?"

I blinked. "Japanese, no. Sorry. Never was attracted by Asian languages, strangely enough. I want to learn Russian, though."

Tony's eyebrows went up. "Six languages?"

I shrugged. "Well… As long as I practice and remember that… uh… nuvola is cloud in Italian and that nube is cloud in Spanish, for example… And all those crazy grammar rules… I think I'm able to use correctly six languages. Maybe seven if I do learn Dutch."

Tony whistled and silently watched as I tapped twice on the first document. I did not really read what was written. I quickly scanned the page and corrected a few mistakes I found here and there, out of habit.

"Well… Since you offered so nicely…" Tony was smirking as I met his eyes. He gestured the screen. "Have fun translating it in as many languages as you want." He winked and I felt vaguely confused. "And feel free to ask if you want something in exchange."

I felt a smile tugging at the corner of my lips and I shook my head before I laughed softly. "Alright. I'll transfer this on my laptop and 'have fun', as you putted it so well." I corrected another small mistake. "Though, it's true. I became a translator because I like to play with words and languages." I stood and piled the two plates before giving Tony a smile. "See you later."

Now, I had to talk to Vanessa.

*o*O*o*O*o*

Pressed against a wall in the archery range – because there was really everything in this tower, even a huge archery range – I observed Clint as he shot arrow after arrow, hitting the center dead on each time.

The… discussion with Vanessa hadn't gone so well.

I rubbed a hand over my face before pushing a couple of long strands of hair from my face. It needed a trim…

"Goddamn." I breathed the cuss softly. Maybe I should have gone back outside but from the slightly painful throbbing in my ears, I figured that it would be better if I were to stay inside.

"What's your problem, Alexanne?"

"I could ask the same thing to you, Vanessa. I don't need monitoring. In fact, I'm perfectly able to take care of myself." I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest.

She crossed hers in a mimic of my posture and glared. "You avoid every appointment you have with Dr. Whitelaw and you pretend you are taking care of yourself?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Vaness. Maybe I needed a psychologist after the whole kidnapping thing. But I don't anymore." She opened her mouth to say something else but I cut her. "Leave me the fuck alone about the fact that I'm still under shock and blah, blah, blah! I'm not the only one who was kidnapped, Vanessa! Maybe you should start thinking about taking care of yourself!" I bit out.

It had gone downhill from there. Vanessa was not agreeing with me; that was pretty much evident. I was stubborn and had stood my ground. I was… well maybe not "alright" but feeling better. Nightmares were rare and I rarely woke up screaming. In fact, I would often just open my eyes, take a look around the dark bedroom and kick the covers away. Then, I would take a couple of deep breaths to calm my frantic heartbeat and try to replay the nightmare in my head to push it into the not-important things drawer in the back of my mind.

I was dealing with it. Without the help of a psychologist. So what? If I was okay on my own, why did Ness think that I still needed professional help? I didn't want to talk about it or write about it. In fact… I had not written something relaxing in a long time.

"Tiger. Alexanne."

I blinked, suddenly finding myself nose to nose with Clint Barton. I would have reeled back if not for the wall against my back.

"Can I help you?" I asked faintly before clearing my throat and meeting the archer's eyes. So close, his eyes were a pale grey with blue hues and a sparkle of green.

He smirked. "What are you doing? You look quite bored."

"Thinking. Musing over my life in the last weeks." I blurted out before I could think about it. Oh blast! I thought, letting my head fall back against the wall. So much for not talking about it, De Bellefeuille.

Clint looked vaguely surprised – though, how could you tell with him? He was a trained assassin and surely pretty good at masking his emotions – but I shrugged. "Nothing important." I finished lamely.

The archer observed me a bit longer before stepping away and going back to the place where were stocked the necessary things for archery… before beckoning me.

"Come. Did you do archery before?"

"High school and only a little bit." I answered, obeying his silent gesture and wearily observing him while he studied a bow. "Why?"

He gently dropped a bow in my right hand, which I transferred into my left. "How is it?" Clint asked and I gently weighted the weapon.

"Maybe a bit too heavy." I answered, focusing on the weapon in my hand and pushing the lingering anger in the back of my mind.

The archer nodded, putted back the bow and gave me another one. "How about this one?"

I liked that one. Less heavy than the first and it fitted comfortably in my hand. I nodded and took a quiver of arrows before finding a target. As I notched the first arrow on the bowstring, I had a vague thought about my fight with Vanessa but I pushed it away to focus on the present moment.

Clint was attentively observing me and I shot him a glance. "What?" The word came out more aggressively than I had intended.

The man shook his head. "I was thinking about showing you how to shoot properly. Maybe another day. Now, you just need to focus on something simple but asking your full concentration."

If I translated it in my own words, Clint was telling me that I was thinking too much and needed to empty my mind for a while.

I could do that.

Pull. Aim. Focus. Release.

*o*O*o*O*o*

"You're avoiding Loch Ness."

I stopped eating, my fork about three centimeters away from my mouth, and I shot Tony something between a surprised glance and a glare.

"First, her name is Vanessa. Second, I'm not avoiding her. Third, if I hadn't come, you would have probably waited another couple of hours before eating something nutritive." I answered quickly, before eating the piece of lasagna on the fork.

"But you're avoiding her. While I know that I'm pretty cool and that my charm is irresistible," I rolled my eyes and snorted, "I don't see what could interest you in coming down to eat with me two times in the same day apart from trying to avoid someone. You and Lo-… and Vanessa," My glare prevented another Loch Ness, "have been fighting a lot in the last week. This is why I'm pretty sure that you're avoiding her."

Tony was looking at me quite intensely and I squirmed a bit, uncomfortable. Was avoiding my best friend?

Yes, I was.

"Oh fine, alright. Yes, I'm avoiding her. That's what you wanted to hear?" I bit out, irritated, my grip clenching around the fork. The metal bit in my palm but I knew it wouldn't leave a mark.

Tony raised an eyebrow and made a show of thoughtfully chewing his mouthful and swallowing it before answering me.

"Not really. Why?"

"Why what?" Okay, I was angry now. "Why am I fighting with her? Because we have different opinions on a subject." The genius looked about to ask something else but I shook my head. "Can't you just don't think about it? It's none of your business, Tony."

I noticed the slip too late… but my upcoming apology for using such a harsh tone – I was polite and did not usually let myself be very aggressive toward people unless they were falling on my nerves or unless they knew me enough to know that they were pushing buttons – was cut by a harsh cough. I swallowed and raised my arms, coughing for about a whole minute before I was able to take a sip of water. "Wrong pipe." I hissed, before focusing on finishing my lasagna.

If Tony had noticed the change in attitude, he did not seem to care about it. In fact, he only shook his head and silently – which worried me a little bit – focused back on his plate.

"Where do you come from, again?" he asked softly and I frowned.

"Quebec. Canada." He frowned and shook his head slowly before glancing at his blue screens. "What?" I asked, worry clear in my voice.

A feeling of dread settled in the bottom of my stomach. Did he think I was lying?

"Uh… Second thoughts are not good. I'm from Quebec, I swear." I took a deep breath. "Promis, juré. Je viens du Québec et je ne suis pas prête de l'oublier.*" I said in French. Tony did not look away from his screens but nodded briefly and pushed a StarkPad beside me. I looked down at it, confused. What the heck was wrong, now?

Tell Poirier and De Bellefeuille that they are to meet me tomorrow, at my office, at 9 o'clock sharp. Tardiness won't be accepted.

Nick Fury

"WHAT?"

*French Translations

"Promis, juré. Je viens du Québec et je ne suis pas prête de l'oublier." - "I swear, I come from the Quebec and I'm not about to forget it."

Oh-oh... There's trouble ahead... What does Fury want from Alexanne and Vanessa? Want to make a guess?

Hope you liked it!