Chapter 10: Stranded

"Shit," Clint cursed as the jet rocked violently to the left. He had a hard time righting the controls to keep them on course. Tyler had jolted awake at the sharp jolt and sat up quickly in her seat.

"What was that?" she asked as she quickly strapped the seatbelt over her.

"We just passed over the Algerian border," he explained, "I put us on stealth mode but I think they have some outside help because that missile was a lot more advanced that it should have been, and they saw us almost immediately."

Tyler looked over at him with wide eyes. "Missile?" she repeated with shock. She looked out of the window and concentrated for a moment. The dawn was a few hours away and there was no light, but they were most definitely losing altitude.

"Don't worry about it," Clint reassured her as he swerved to avoid more missiles. Unfortunately, they were heat tracers and they followed the jet as it turned. Clint's jaw set and glanced at Tyler. "Hold on," he advised. Without waiting for her to actually prepare herself he pulled up on the controls and looped the jet in a wide circle. He fired bullets at the two missiles when he was above them and they exploded into a blooming inferno.

The jet passed through unharmed and two German fighters fell in behind them. Clint tilted his head a bit when he realized where the fighters came from and wondered when exactly Algeria became best buds with Germany. A voice came through the communication system that sounded pretty much like a bunch of jumbled, made-up words and Clint raised an eyebrow.

"I see how it is," he mumbled with his mic still off, "shoot now; ask questions later." He flipped on his mic and said haughtily, "I'm sorry, but I don't exactly speak gibberish." He turned the mic off again and looked over at Tyler. "Told you Algeria was a bad idea."

"Then why didn't you just go around it?" Tyler asked with exasperation. Though her father generally led a dangerous life she herself hadn't experienced anything so intense except for the occasional videogame. Clint could hear it in her voice and he averted to light-heartedness since he wasn't a professional in the comforting department.

"Because then we would have run out of gas and either A) fallen into the ocean or B) fallen right outside of Algerian territory. It's hard to just go around something that's thousands of miles wide."

Before Tyler could respond a reply came through the communication system. "Stand down and tell us your mission, American," it said. Clint scowled and flipped his mic on.

"You're asking me to stand down? You were the one who shot at me first," he replied with a little irritation. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't spotless, but at least they weren't that war-obsessed.

"Last chance," came the reply, "stand down or we will shoot."

"You already did shoot," Clint barked back angrily and switched off all communication gear. He was royally pissed and there was no way he was going to listen to their demands; he was absolutely certain that he could outfly them with a blindfold.

"Clint, think about this," Tyler urged from beside him. "We've already been hit and we're losing altitude."

"Well, then, I'll just have to finish them before we hit the ground, won't I?" he asked. Tyler didn't look too convinced, but she said no more.

Clint flipped on a camera that showed the air behind them and switched the gun control to aim at the jets that were tailing them. He dipped and swerved as bullets flew through the air towards them, all the while trying to get a good shot at them.

"C'mon, c'mon, let me hit you," he urged the jets. Tyler couldn't help but question his methods. Was she really trusting this guy with her life right now?

A moment later, however, one of the wings on the jets behind blew up in flames and veered sharply into its partner. Clint smiled as both of the jets spun out of control and spiraled down to the ground. Tyler couldn't help but gape as she looked at the scene behind them on the screen. Clint glanced over at her and his smile widened.

"And that is why doubting me never gets anyone anywhere," he bragged. Tyler closed her mouth and looked back to the front of them where the ground was now more rapidly approaching.

"Yeah, good job, now how are you going to shoot down the earth so we don't explode and die when we hit the surface?"

Clint huffed. "Ye of little faith," he said with a shake of his head. Tyler looked at him and again her mouth hung open. They were heading toward the ground at over one-hundred miles per hour and he was making cracks about it? Somehow life-threatening situations such as this one didn't seem in the least bit humorous to her.

Despite his little jive, though, Clint seemed to be concentrating with deadly accuracy. He pulled back on the controls to even out the jet and slowed it down by activating the thrusters. Tyler gripped the sides of her chair until her knuckles turned white, but otherwise showed no sign that she was currently freaking out.

Just when they were about to hit the ground Tyler squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. The jet collided with the sand and the cockpit shook violently. Tyler was almost certain that her insides were going to be blended together into a disgusting pulp. Even as the jet slowed her head pounded and her limbs felt like Jell-O. When the jet skidded to a halt it still felt as though the metal walls were shaking down to their very foundations. It took several moments for Tyler to get herself to breathe again and open her eyes.

She looked to her side to make sure Clint was okay, but he wasn't there. She quickly undid the harness wrapped around her and jumped to her feet, only to stumble and fall back onto the seat. She waited a moment with her fingers pressed to her temple and tried again a little more slowly.

When she was sure that she wouldn't fall over she turned around to see Clint retrieving their things from the storage compartments above the passenger seats of the jets. He threw her bag at her and she caught it with a wince; she didn't pack very lightly.

"We have to get out of here," he informed her. Tyler was surprised that his light tone had completely flipped around and she found it very difficult to believe he was the jokester from just moments ago.

She nodded, her respect for him freshly renewed, and strapped her bag over her shoulder. Clint did the same and then grabbed a gun from his holster. He held it out and Tyler stared at it rather dumbly. She knew that she was training to be an agent and all, but she hadn't actually dealt with a gun before. She was only two months into her training, after all.

"Learning in the field's always better than target practice," Clint said and wiggled the gun once. Tyler's eyes shot up to his and held his gaze as she reached out and took the gun. She knew she would need it to defend herself, anyway. Didn't matter whether or not she was trained; she needed to have something to blow her enemies up or she would be the one on the ground.

Clint nodded and turned around to exit the jet. He must have opened the cockpit while Tyler's eyes were closed because it already exposed the trail of upturned sand the jet had left behind it. There was a large rock to the left Tyler hadn't noticed before and she had to admire Clint's steering skills. Only two or three feet to the side and they would have collided and exploded in flames. Clint didn't waste any time walking away from the wreckage and Tyler almost had to jog to keep up with him.

"Clint where are we going?" she asked. Clint glanced at her and then looked over her shoulder to the desert landscape behind them.

"I looked on the GPS before we crashed," Clint said and turned to face forward again. "There should be a S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters about three days' journey this way. We need to get there before the German Algerians send someone to look for us."

Tyler looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "German Algerians?"

Clint nodded. "They weren't speaking German, but they were flying German fighters, so until I know who they actually are they will be known as the German Algerians."

Tyler couldn't help but smile. For some reason, Clint always knew how to lighten up the mood. A little of the worry and even terror she had of being stranded in a desert went away. Only a little, though; it was still there, by all means. It felt so surreal.

As she and Clint walked in silence she almost felt as though she were reading a book or watching a movie. Just two months ago the only thing exciting in her life was when her fa—when Tony came home and actually talked to her. Since the night before, however, she hijacked a jet, got shot down by "German Algerians", and began traversing the desert with a master assassin that could probably think of thirty different ways to kill her with a pencil.

When she thought about it, it didn't really bother her as much as it should that she was living such a life that she had only ever heard about in fictional stories. It scared her to think that she didn't feel affected by the change she had recently gone through nearly as much as she should.

Maybe it was the shock from the crash, or maybe her mind just refused to think about it to prevent her from having a mental breakdown. She favored the shock from landing idea; she had gone through a breakdown much too recently for it to happen again.

There was absolutely no shade in the desert and even though it was roughly six in the morning the heat had already started to become brutal. There wasn't as much sand as Tyler thought there would be, the land was more or less flat and mostly rocks and dead grass seemed to span across its entirety. There was no obvious wild life and nowhere that looked as though it might have water.

No water. No animals. Tyler looked at Clint as she realized that they did not have any food or water with them; neither of them thought they were going to need it.

"Clint," her voice broke the silence tentatively, "what exactly are we going to eat and drink for the next three days?"

Clint glanced over at her before he answered. "There are ways to find food and water in the desert," he replied simply. Tyler just stared at him.

"What ways exactly are you referring to?" she tried again.

"Are you asking because you're doubting that I actually know how to do this?"

"Yes," Tyler stated bluntly. Clint looked at her with a startled look for a moment; he honestly hadn't expected that to be her answer.

"Rude," he accused childishly and looked back to where they were headed. "I've been stranded in the desert before, there are different types of plants that you can find that store water inside of them. There are also plenty of animals to catch and eat if you know where to look."

Tyler nodded, satisfied with Clint's answer. It was a good thing that he knew what he was doing because the best she could do was maybe find a snake to kill, but there were no guarantees that she would kill the snake before it tried to bite her.

Suddenly, Clint stopped in front of her and she had to halt fast to avoid running into him. He turned to the left and walked down a small hill to a type of cactus that was sticking out of the ground. Tyler raised an eyebrow but proceeded to follow him.

Clint kneeled down next to the plant and took out a large dagger from his belt. He used the dagger to rid the cactus of the thorns protruding from the very end of one of its arms. With one quick motion he severed the now dethorned part of the cactus and held it next to its trunk. He stabbed the plant above where he held its detached arm and a stream of water fell into it. Once the water stopped falling he took a small sip and then held it up to Tyler.

"Cactus water: the best way to get hydrated in the desert," he informed. Tyler nodded and took the water filled plant that Clint had made. She frowned at how high the level of the water was; Clint had hardly taken any for himself. She would save some for him, then.

She took a sip of the water and was surprised to find that it tasted a little like coconut water. It wasn't as sweet, but just as refreshing. She drank the liquid until there was about half left and held it out to Clint who had since stood up and returned his dagger to its place at his side.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent glanced down at the water, a little surprised that Tyler hadn't taken all of it (he knew she wasn't a selfish brat but he figured that she wasn't used to this kind of thing so she would want to have as much water as she could while it was there) and shook his head.

"You finish it, I already had some," he said.

Tyler raised an eyebrow and replied as though she were talking to a five year old. It should have bothered Clint more than it did, but for some reason he kind of found it cute. In an irritating, little sister kind of way.

"Clint, you had one sip. I don't care if you've spent years in a desert before; you are drinking more."

Clint held Tyler's gaze while he tried to make up his mind. It didn't seem like Tyler was going to let him sacrifice for her, so he might as well humor her for a while. He took the plant-cup from the trainee and took a few gulps, but left the last one for her and held it out. Tyler glared at him but eventually took the plant and drank the last little bit.

Clint nodded and turned to continue walking when Tyler was finished. Tyler wasn't too sure where to put the cup but figured she might as well bring it along so Clint wouldn't have to bother making another if they came across another cactus.

The hours passed so slowly that Tyler was sure they had been walking for at least a week. That was what it felt like, both mentally and physically. Tyler wasn't unhealthy, but she was never one to hike too much. She would run or do yoga or skateboard, but none of that put nearly as much stress on her feet as trekking across the desert did.

They didn't take very many breaks so as to get as large of a head start as possible from anyone who would try to find them after Clint had felled the two fighters. They only stopped when Clint pointed out a plant that was edible or had water. Tyler was glad for the lessons and did her best to remember everything he said; she had a feeling that she might run into another stay in the desert if she remained a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

By the time it was lunch Tyler thought she would keel over, and her stomach very much agreed. She hadn't had dinner from the night before and they hadn't found anything to eat for breakfast aside from a couple of edible roots, but those could only do so much. What she really wanted was a nice juicy steak, but she figured that wouldn't happen. She actually figured that she wouldn't have any meat at all, but Clint was quick to prove her wrong.

At about half past noon Clint stopped walking and stood ramrod straight. Tyler had tried to ask what he was doing, but he waved his hand for her to get back and be quiet. She watched him as he slowly reached for his belt and unsheathed his dagger and then she tried to follow his line of vision. He was focusing intently on the ground in front of him and at first Tyler thought he was just trying to pull a prank, but then she remembered the situation they were in. He wouldn't do anything that stupid.

She focused a little harder and almost jumped back as she made out the shape of a large, coiled snake that blended in perfectly to the sandy-colored rock. Above each black and beady eye was a single horn about an inch long and its forked tongue flicked out menacingly as it seemed to be watching Clint just as intently as he was watching it. In a flash, Clint's hand shot out and the dagger glinted as it flew with almost inhuman speed toward the snake.

The snake didn't even know what hit it as its head was severed from its body within a single second. Tyler stared at the snake with awe and once again her respect for the agent before her was greatly renewed. She would have just backed away slowly if she confronted a snake like that. Her awe quickly turned into a little queasiness as Clint picked up both his knife and the snake's body and faced her.

"Horned Viper," he informed with a smile, "not too venomous, but it could kill a man in just ten minutes if enough of it's venom enters his system. Another fact that not many people know is that when cooked it tastes exactly like chicken."

Tyler scowled. "That's gross," she murmured and scooted back a little bit. This only amused Clint and his smile widened.

"You never know until you try," he offered light-heartedly. Tyler's scowl became more prominent, if anything, and she remained thoroughly disgusted.

"We don't even have a fire," she pointed out. Clint shrugged and continued to walk.

"We'll find something along the way," he said. Tyler followed a few steps farther behind than she normally did and glanced down with a shiver at the severed head that remained on the floor of the desert.

"So you're just going to swing that thing around in your hand until you find some firewood in a desert?" she asked after a few minutes.

Clint huffed. "You'd be surprised at what you can find in this place. It probably wasn't always a desert, there might have been trees a while ago and they could still be here. Besides, you see the small amounts of grass popping up, no? This is only a half-desert."

Tyler frowned. "Yeah, sure," she said, clearly not convinced. Clint looked back at her with a smirk.

"What's the matter? Don't tell me that this bothers you," he teased as he held the snake body toward her. Tyler glared at him and did her best not to flinch away.

"It's a dead snake whose head has been severed from its body right in front of my eyes; yes it bothers me. The last time I saw something decapitated was in Skyrim on my Xbox."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "You play Skyrim and you didn't bother telling me?"

Tyler shrugged. "It wasn't really relevant."

Clint paused and contemplated something for a moment before he glanced back at her. "So if you play Skyrim then does that mean you know how to use swords to decapitate people?"

Tyler's scowl returned and she glared at Clint. "How am I supposed to know? It's not like I knew what I was capable of before twelve hours ago."

Clint's smile faded and he stopped walking. He turned around and Tyler was a little taken aback by the hard expression he carried. She slowed to a halt hesitantly.

"Tyler, we need to talk," he said slowly.

Tyler sighed and pushed past Clint. If that was all it was then she really didn't care; she didn't want to talk, especially not to him.

"Tyler," Clint said more firmly. Tyler stopped and turned around with a glare.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked as she held her hands out with exasperation. "I don't even know what I am anymore, how am I supposed to talk about that? How am I supposed to just break down and spill out everything that I'm feeling when I don't even know what to feel? I can't just talk, Clint. What happened, what I am, it doesn't make any sense. Before we talk, I have to figure out what the hell is going on. So, no, we don't need to talk. Alright? Just… just let me figure it out. On my own."

Clint stared at her and for a moment she thought he was going to argue, but he just nodded.

"Okay," he said quietly. "But if you don't 'figure it out' by the time we reach the base then we're going to talk; whether you like it or not."

Tyler almost protested— she was only a millisecond away from doing it— but for some reason she just nodded as he had done not moments before. And that was that. Clint once again took the lead and they continued their journey without a word. It wasn't until Clint found the material they needed to make a fire that they spoke and even then it was only Clint encouraging her to taste the snake.

She refused; she was completely repulsed by it. She wouldn't eat snake unless— and suddenly she had let Clint hand her a piece of the meat. It took another couple minutes for her to work up the courage to put it in her mouth, but she did it eventually. To her surprise, the snake actually did taste a little like chicken. It had a different, strange tang to it, but it wasn't half bad. She and Clint shared the snake and then continued their journey.

If they weren't currently trying to stay hidden from some Algerians who wanted them dead or walking across a one-hundred and forty degree desert, Tyler would actually feel pretty content. Aside from the fact that she needed to somehow be figuring out what had happened with her and Tony.

She just didn't know where to start, and due to that she decided that she would hold it off for a while. If she ignored it then it wouldn't continue to make her feel like some extra-terrestrial phenomenon. And she did just that.

Loki stood at the wreckage of the black jet with a slight scowl. The way that the machine was smoking made it seem as though it didn't just quit working or fall from the sky; it must have been shot. He could sense no blood nor fading presence coming from it, so whoever was in it survived and fled. There were also two sets of footprints that seemed to be leading away from the wreckage.

Unfortunately, the one who he had paid to take him here said that he could go no further; his ride was gone. He would have to follow the footprints until he found the person he was looking for. It was a little bothersome that he had no supplies in order to keep himself alive, but he figured he could find something to eat at one point or another. He did still have his magic and knives, though he had lost his staff during the battle with the Avengers. He would probably be found if he used it anyway, it was better that his brother had taken it with him to Asguard.

Just as he was about to turn to follow the footprints, a loud hum came to his ears. He had just enough time to turn around before two large Midguardian cars came into view after circling around the large rock that obstructed view of the fallen jet.

Much to Loki's irritation, the men in the cars began shouting and pointing their weapons at him. Once the cars stopped they all hopped out and circled him. He sighed and looked around at the shouting men.

"I do not believe that we speak the same language," he said calmly. A few of the men looked at each other and then stepped aside for another man, most likely their leader, to enter the circle they had formed. Loki sized the man up and decided that had he been from Asguard it might be difficult to fell him in a fight.

He was large and burly and his bare arms showed off scars of many past battles. His skin, along with the men around him, was very dark as opposed to the white or tan he was used to seeing on Midguard. His face seemed to be permanently screwed into a scowl and his chin was held high as though he owned the world. Loki found that he was annoyed by this Midguardian.

"Is that your ship?" the man asked in accented English. At the very least, Loki wouldn't have to slaughter these men without them knowing the reason why.

"No," he replied dismissively. He would have continued talking, but the man rudely interrupted him.

"Then what is a white man in such strange clothes doing out here, eh?" he asked with something in his tone that Loki couldn't place, but he wanted to hurl a blast of deadly magic at him for it. He didn't. It would probably be better if he got the man on his side, there was no telling how strong the one he was after could be and he'd much rather prefer sending out pawns to do the dirty work. He didn't have to think too much on what he was going to say.

"Hunting for an enemy," he replied with a wicked smile. The man seemed amused, if anything.

"That is a large enemy you challenge, boy," he pointed out. Loki shrugged.

"No matter how large an enemy seems it is possible to take them down by slowly chiseling away at their strengths. The man piloting that jet is one of their best," he lied. Of course, the man could certainly have been one of the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer, but he didn't know that. The man in front of Loki unexpectedly smiled.

"That is something you and I can agree on," he said and held his hand out. Loki's eyes flicked down to the hand and almost ignored it, but he was no fool. He held his own hand out and grabbed the man's in a firm hand shake.

"Are you the one who shot it down?" Loki motioned to the jet when his hand was released.

"Yes, we were. Oh, but where are my manners?" the man asked in a suddenly more friendly tone. He motioned for his men to stand down and smiled once again. "My name is Agni, a member of a group known as Cerberus who are sworn enemies to the petty, American S.H.I.E.L.D. Might I ask who you are, friend?"

Loki almost shuddered; he hated the thought of being called a friend by this man or any other Midguardian, but he needed his help.

"I am known as Loki," he replied. "I do not belong to any organizations, but like you I wish to see S.H.I.E.L.D… turn to dust, shall we say?"

The man laughed and clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki had to do his best not to kill him right then and there.

"I do believe we shall get along nicely," Agni said happily. "Now, we were sent out to be sure the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are finished. Would you like to join us?"

Loki forced himself to smile. "Of course."

Tony walked through the white halls with long strides and a dangerous glint in his eyes. As soon as his text had reached Tyler's phone Jarvis had alerted him that the signal had been cut off, and that wasn't a normal occurrence. He tried to call Clint but his phone was dead, so he called Natasha. The Spider had said everything was fine and Tony asked to talk to Tyler, but she said she and Clint were too busy with training to talk at that moment and then she hung up. Bullshit.

Now Tony was tearing up the halls of S.H.I.E.L.D., unauthorized, to find someone who could tell him what the hell was going on. Tyler had only been in training for two months so there was no way that she went on a mission and had her phone taken or anything; that didn't make sense. She had just texted him to ask what was wrong with him, which would be weird on a mission, and he didn't do anything— although, he had to admit that disappearing for two weeks to get ready for his battle with the Mandarin wasn't so shrewd— but he couldn't do much about it. His suit broke in the center of some backstreet forest in the middle of nowhere. Not exactly his fault.

That was the only thing he could think of that would make Tyler text him, but there was nothing that would cause her to just break her phone: another tidbit from Jarvis. Tony thought her phone might have run out of batteries or something but Jarvis said the signal was cut too abruptly for the phone to have been turned off automatically or otherwise. So the only other explanation was that she broke her phone. Not a Tyler thing; she must have been in some trouble. He needed to see her anyway, to let her know that he was fine and that he was sorry for not being able to talk to her sooner.

As he stormed through the halls there were many agents who looked like they wanted to stop him, but none of them worked up enough courage to confront him. Until he passed Agent Hill. He had hoped not to see her on this little stroll, but sometimes things happen.

"Stark," Hill said with the usual sternness in her voice as she stepped in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

Tony ignored her and avoided her like the Plague. Of course, like the Plague, she followed him.

"Stark, you know that you're not supposed to be here. And didn't you get blown up by some terrorist two weeks ago?"

Tony looked at her with a smile as she kept his brisk pace alongside him.

"Really, I thought you'd have learned by now that it's impossible to get rid of me," he replied arrogantly. Cockiness always seemed the best way to go when talking to women in uniform. Got them all hot and angry and some sick internal side of him rather enjoyed it.

Hill didn't take the bait.

"Stark, why are you here?" she asked again.

Tony glanced at her, a little disappointed, and replied, "I'm looking for my daughter."

Something undiscernible flashed in Hill's eyes and Tony's jaw set; something was DEFINITELY wrong. He picked up his pace, much to Hill's annoyance, and glanced to the side through one of the many windows spanning the main halls. The window gave vision into the large meeting room where he had first met Dr. Banner and currently there were three people inside.

There was an eye patch, an old guy, and a spider. The way that both Steve and Fury were giving hard stares at Natasha, Tony assumed that she had done something wrong. Which would explain quite a lot of things, because the way she acted on the phone was so not her.

He abruptly stopped— Hill who had still been following practically had to skid to stop— and then he barged into the meeting with a smile.

"Sorry to interrupt the powwow session," he exclaimed rather flamboyantly, "but I do believe that someone has been keeping secrets." He walked forward to stand next to Natasha, who had had her back to the door, and looked around at the group with his smile unfading.

Fury rolled his eye and Steve stiffened as though a mouse just crawled over his foot. Natasha, however, seemed completely unfazed by Tony's appearance.

"And to what do we owe the pleasure?" Fury asked sarcastically.

Tony looked over at Natasha and pointed both of his fingers at her.

"That woman failed to let me speak to my daughter," he accused. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"I think she's old enough that you don't have to keep a leash on her like a dog," she replied. That lack of emotion in her voice drove Tony crazy.

"Actually, I haven't been able to talk to her in at least three weeks and she told me to keep in touch," he said and let his hands fall to his sides. "Besides, she's my daughter. I have to keep track of her or she'll go off and do something stupid."

Natasha let a small smirk appear on her lips. "I think that's the closest you have ever come to admitting that you have flaws."

Tony furrowed his brow. "No, I said that she would be the one to do something stupid. Not me."

"Whatever you say," Natasha said impassively and looked back to Fury who glowered, as he usually did.

"Our discussion isn't over," he told her before he looked at Tony. "Tyler's not able to speak at the moment."

"Hm," Tony hummed and scratched his beard with his elbow propped on one hand. "That sounds strangely familiar, doesn't it, Natasha?" he looked over at her with a cheeky grin. She didn't let any of the annoyance she felt show on her face.

"Tony," Fury retook the billionaire's attention. "You are on unauthorized grounds to talk to your daughter whom you've neglected to talk to for the past three weeks, that is a personal problem and in no way should involve you barging into the headquarters. You knew the risks when you asked if Tyler could become an agent, or at least you—"

"Wait a minute, risks?" Tony interrupted with a hand raised. That word could mean a million different things; none of which settled Tony's mind in the least. If anything, it made his imagination begin to work overtime and that was never a good sign. Fury tilted his head as though Tony were an idiot, which wasn't exactly a lie but in that moment he had a perfectly good reason to question the Director's use of the word.

"Yes, risks. Like not being able to see Tyler when you want due to training," Fury articulated clearly; a little too clearly for Tony. He narrowed his eyes; Fury was good. Fury was good, but not good enough.

"Uh-uh," Tony said with a shake of his head. "That is not how you meant the word, and you know it. What happened?"

"Nothing—"

"What happened?!"

Fury blinked and shot a two-second glare at Natasha before he straightened and returned his attention to Tony.

"This is a subject that hardly involves-"

"Ah, if you say that it doesn't involve me them I'm going to yell," Tony once again interrupted. "Tell me where my daughter is."

Fury stared at him for a few moments, debating whether or not he should tell the billionaire the truth. If he told the truth then Tony would grab his suit and do something stupid but if he told a lie…

"Stranded in the middle of the Algerian desert with Clint," Fury replied bluntly.

Tony nodded with a billionaire smile. "Oh, ok, that's fine—WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN?!" his smile abruptly disappeared and anger flared in his eyes. "Stranded in the middle of the—how the HELL did she get there?"

"She stole one of the fighter jets with Clint and Natasha's help," Fury informed. Tony turned and gave a death glare to the Russian.

"Woman, so help me once I get my suit you are DEAD," he growled.

"Shaking in my boots," Natasha replied sarcastically. Tony would have hit her if he didn't know that she could break his arm without even flinching.

"Oh and Tony," Fury said, "Tyler saw the video."

Tony froze for a few moments before he slowly turned to glare at the Director. "Please tell me that this is some sick joke and you guys are bullshitting me," Tony pleaded though he knew what the answer would be.

"Tony," Fury said with a hard stare at the billionaire. "She saw the video."

Well, everyone's situations just seem to be getting worse, don't they? Except for Loki... Sly fox... Anywho! Tell me what you think! ^^

-KC