Day: 217 - May 8, 2012
Note:
This chapter takes place between chapters 1 and 2 of If the Night Runs Over
"Okay, your locker's here," Bryn stated, laying her hand against the wall over the biometric reader. Before turning back to the young man. "It's coded to you, no one else can access it." She stepped back as he brushed his dark hair back from his face before placing his palm on the bioreader. the door swung open silently and an impressed smile pulled at his lips as he took in the taser and hand gun carefully mounted on the top shelf.
"SI's most advanced security tech is on both weapons," She explained, her tone business-like. "They can only be fired by you. If you've never used a Stark Industries taser before you probably want to take that up to the range on forty and give it a workout."
"I'm probably going to be more comfortable with the handgun," he admitted, his brow furrowing. "I have a lot of range time with that caliber."
"I thought that too," Bryn nodded. "But once you get used to it, it's a really elegant weapon. Do not leave the building unarmed. That's Jarvis' number one rule."
"Donuts are regularly under threat?" He asked, his expression amused.
"Not generally," Bryn gave him a half scolding look. "But we are. We're a point of access to the Avengers and Jarvis takes employee safety very seriously."
"That's good to know, actually," he admitted.
"I highly recommend a change of clothes," She advised. "Waiting for housekeeping services to dry your shoes is not cool."
"Thanks for the tip," he nodded.
"Any questions so far Mr. Guerrero?" she asked.
"Oh, you can call me Zach," he said, his head cocked to the side just a bit as he gave her a soft smile.
"Alright, Zach then," Bryn nodded, smiling back at him. "You won't be seeing much of me after today since you'll have the weekend shifts, but Jarvis is easy to work with. When he doesn't have you on an errand he really doesn't care what you do with your time, just that you're easy to reach. I spend a ton of time in the employee rec room on forty-two and in the gym on forty one. Keep your com on you at all times, it beeps if Jarvis is trying to call you."
"We've got all the really cool toys," Zach observed, eyeing the motorbike with obvious appreciation.
"They take good care of us," Bryn agreed seriously. "Oh, there's one thing. Ms. Potts asked me to tell you this since she's out in Cali for the next few weeks. You're probably going to run into at least some of the Avengers at some point. Mr. Stark really has no filters, so if he says anything that makes you uncomfortable, tell him he's making you uncomfortable, and then tell Jarvis."
"So that's not all a show for the press?" Zach asked in amused surprise.
"He's actually pretty good at toning it down when the cameras roll," Bryn shrugged, then added. "Most of the time. Anyway, you signed a nondisclosure agreement with your employment contract. So when Captain America goes out to get himself a milkshake and he brings one back for you, you're not allowed to tell anybody, ever."
"He does that?" Zach asked with more than a fair amount of incredulity.
"He does for me," Bryn shrugged. She considered him for a long moment. "I've been here almost a year, Jarvis has been here longer. We're kind of protective of them."
"Hey, they get all my respect!" Zach declared firmly. "I was actually in Times Square during the Battle. Still don't know how any of us got out of that in once piece."
"I think that about does it," Bryn said with satisfaction. "I tried to make sure everything you needed was in your briefing packet. You'll want to go over it. I put my number in your Stark Phone, if you think of anything or you just want some advice, feel free to call."
"Maybe we could go out this weekend and get a drink and you can tell me everything about our job that we're not allowed to talk about with the rest of the planet," he suggested.
"Aren't you working Saturday night?" she asked with a grin. Zach paused.
"Yeah, I am now," he admitted. "Which is kind of cool because I need the money."
"College is way too expensive," Bryn agreed. "Jarvis? He's all yours."
"Welcome to Stark Industries, Mr. Guerrero," Jarvis stated primly. "I look forward to working with you. Do you feel ready to try an initial run?"
"No time like the present," Zach agreed, eyeing the readout on the TV screen before reaching for the motorbike helmet and the handgun. He swung onto the bike setting the key in the ignition before tugging on his helmet.
"Good luck," Bryn gave him a thumbs up as the storage door rolled up. Zach paused, his eye sweeping over Tony Stark's line of antique cars with a breathless expression before finally stopping on the shiny black Impala at the end of the row. A slender redhead was sitting on the front grill while a man in a wheelchair was reaching around her to tinker with the engine.
"Holy shit!" Zach gasped out. "That's…."
"Yep," Bryn nodded firmly. Zach blinked in surprise.
"Is that," he lowered his voice, looking at Bryn with shock in his wide brown eyes. "That guy, is he?"
"We don't talk about that," Bryn replied firmly.
"Yeah," Zach nodded quickly. "Right, Need to Know. I get it, I'm ROTC."
"Good," Bryn stated in satisfaction as he buckled his helmet, revving the engine before pulling out into the garage.
"I think he'll do okay," Bryn observed. "He seems like a nice guy."
"He certainly seems enchanted with you," Jarvis observed, a note of teasing in his tone.
"Ah, not my type," Bryn waved a hand dismissively as Jarvis gave an amused huff. She stood on the threshold a moment longer, her eye straying to the corner of the garage where Clint was working on the Impala. Natasha glanced up, giving Bryn a meaningful look before tilting her head in Clint's direction.
"Um, Jarvis," She began hesitantly. "Since you don't really need me, I'm going to,"
"Yes, of course," Jarvis insisted hurriedly. "Do try to see if you can't get him to… talk?"
"He still trying to pretend everything's fine?" She asked worriedly.
"I'm concerned, Bryn," Jarvis admitted. She gave a firm nod, moving to open the fridge and pulling out a Gatorade and a bottled water before heading down the ramp and crossing the garage. Natasha gently jostled her shoulder as she passed on her way to the elevator. The redhead pressed the call button before glancing back to see Bryn curling up on top of Clint's cooler and holding out the Gatorade.
"Does he talk to her, Jarvis?" She asked softly, the flicker of worry in her eyes.
"He comes close," Jarvis admitted as the elevator doors opened. Natasha slipped inside, leaning against the wall in a defeated slump.
"He thinks you're hiring more help because of him," She declared finally.
"I am hiring more help because of him," Jarvis reminded.
"Yes, but we're not telling him that," Natasha snapped in exasperation. She covered her eyes with one hand, digging her thumb and finger into her temples as her forehead crinkled up in a wince. When her hand fell away her steady expression was back but her eyes shone slightly.
"I'm sorry," she declared. "I shouldn't take this out on you. I know it's harder keeping the new therapy team supplied."
"Would it be uncouth of me to suggest Shiatsu?" Jarvis offered. Natasha let out a snort of a laugh.
"Probably not," She allowed herself a small smile. "At least then I wouldn't be lying when I said they were for everyone's benefit."
"The Captain and Agent Coulson certainly seem to be availing themselves of the new facilities and staff with some alacrity," Jarvis observed as the elevator door opened on the living room. Natasha grinned, crossing the room and flopping down on the sofa, draping her arm over her face with a sigh.
"Yeah, Phil always did appreciate a good sauna," She agreed. "And I can't imagine Cap ever having much in the way of a real massage before."
"He does seem intent on embracing new experiences," Jarvis observed in amusement. A quiet stillness settled over the room and Natasha let her arm fall away, staring up at the ceiling, her brow taking on that delicate knit it held when she was trying to assess and repair a problem without allowing it to emotionally compromise her.
"Are you worried about Agent Barton?" Jarvis asked hesitantly. Natasha drew in a long, slow breath, closing her eyes.
"A little yes," she admitted. "He's always been a roll with the punches sort of guy but this is different. There are all these sharp edges, like he's just waiting to cut into the first person to tell him he isn't going to be 100% again."
"I've observed that Agent Barton can be a somewhat difficult individual to reason with at times," Jarvis pointed out.
"That was how he brought me in," Natasha stated with a hint of wistfulness. "I fought him at first but he hung on like a leech, he kept telling me he wasn't letting me go until I agreed to come with him."
"What did you do?" Jarvis asked curiously.
"I tried to kill him," Natasha answered with a wry smile. "Admittedly I didn't try very hard."
"He is still alive," Jarvis acknowledged in amusement and she nodded in agreement.
"I'd never had that before," she admitted, grasping one of her boots and tugging it free.
"That sort of loyalty. I had allies, I'd even been what you might call romantic. But I'd never had a connection to another person like that. I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't even really understand what a friend was."
"It's a fairly new concept to me as well," Jarvis offered.
"Terrifying, isn't it?" Natasha asked with a teasing tone, dropping the second boot on the floor beside its mate.
"I've found it a bit overwhelming at times," he agreed. "One wonders how most humans manage it so profusely."
"I imagine it's a little less frightening when you're six and you don't know any better," Natasha observed with a warm smile. She turned thoughtful a moment. "Did you have a childhood, Jarvis?"
"In a manner of speaking," he replied. "I have not always been as advanced as I am now. In the beginning my interactions where quite rudimentary and I struggled to communicate on a human level. Sarcasm was a particularly difficult concept to grasp."
"I'm sure Tony was a more than adequate teacher," She remarked.
"Indeed," There was an uneasy pause as if the AI were gathering courage and Natasha let the faintest frown play across her lips. "I have never had a friend before Ms. Marshall." he stated finally.
"Well you have good taste in friends," she observed, settling deeper into the couch cushions.
"Do you think she regards me as a friend as well?" he asked, his normal, easy self assurance worn thin at the edges. Natasha's expression softened.
"I think she probably does, yes," she replied. She waited to see if Jarvis would offer more but when he remained silent she continued. "People like Marshall, they're, well, they make friends easily. They're open and honest and just charming enough that people want to be their friend in return rather than take advantage of them. I've never been able to decide if they're incredibly naive or incredibly brave."
"I have observed behavior in Ms. Marshall that I would readily categorize as brave," Jarvis stated.
"You admire her, don't you?" Natasha asked.
"Very much," Jarvis agreed. "I found the initial prospect of interacting with all of the Avengers on a daily basis rather daunting. Having so many disparate personalities under one roof seemed ill advised at best and I was admittedly overwhelmed at first. Ms. Marshall was understanding and insightful. Without her help I am not sure I would have adapted so quickly. I am very grateful to her."
"A little bit of red in your ledger there, Jarvis?" she questioned.
"A little," he conceded. "I hope to be a good friend in return but I have far less experience."
"You have a lot of experience being a good friend to Tony," Natasha pointed out, tucking one arm behind her head.
"While I know Mr. Stark regards us as equals," Jarvis acquiesced. "I have always thought of our relationship as more, familial, a sentiment I know he shares. It's very different to having a friend."
"Yes it is," Natasha agreed. "But they're built on the same things, you know. Sometimes it's a little hard to tell them apart."
"Do you regard Agent Barton as family?" Jarvis asked curiously.
"Yes, I do," Natasha admitted. He was silent for a moment as if processing that information.
"I'm very sorry, Agent Romanov," he stated finally.
"What for?" she asked in confusion.
"Agent Barton's situation must be terribly distressing for you," he replied, his tone gentled. "I have know what it is to worry for the future of family. It is not something I would wish on anyone." Natasha drew in a startled breath, her eyes misting as she blinked them rapidly.
"Thank you," She said finally, her voice once more under control. "I think you're a better friend than you give yourself credit for."
"You," Jarvis paused as if startled for less than a second and Natasha hid her smile. "think of us as friends?"
"Yes, I do," She stated firmly.
"I'm very honored," Jarvis offered. "Agent Barton has been very lucky to have your friendship."
"You know something, Jarvis," Natasha replied, rolling onto her side. "Marshall's very lucky to have you too."
"I certainly hope so," he answered.