CHAPTER THREE


Summary: When Hermione's contract with SHIELD is sold to Stark Industries and she's traded like she's prized cattle, she is far from pleased. But then, she meets the notorious man for herself and she finds herself thinking that perhaps, it wasn't all that bad a trade.

Disclaimer: All original characters and canon events belong to J.K. Rowling and Marvel. Non-canon events and characters are my own. I am not making any profit from posting this fanfic. Characters are likely to be OOC. This takes place after Iron Man 2, and I will be taking liberties with the timeline/ canon events. Rated for language, violence and sexual content.

AN

CallaRose4ever- In this one, Hermione and Harry won't be as close but they do still consider each other friends and family. With Harry having his own life and family and Hermione having moved away, communication would've dwindled. But that's not to say he won't be protective of her and Harry will be making a small appearance in the future.

Ash – Yes, Ron is married and he does have children, he will make a small appearance in the future.

Chupeechan – It certainly will.

SereniteRose – Yes, this is a Hermione/Tony pairing, and he will find out about her being a witch. As for the others, Harry and Ron will make a small appearance, as will some of the Avengers.

DeathDagger – I had a blast writing this chapter, as you said, Tony's very persistent and Hermione only has so much patience.

Fairytalebliss182 – I'm trying for a friendship turned relationship between them, that way, we can have some jealous Tony moments.


Page count: 19


She was going to kill him.

She was going to murder him.

She was going to hang him upside down by his toes and dangle him over the edge of the skyscraper that adorned his name.

Her hands clenching into fists in an effort to refrain from reaching for her wand, she looked up to the ceiling and took a calming breath. It didn't work. She was going to kill Tony Stark.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Dr. Granger?" Replied the disembodied voice.

"Is Tony currently in the building?"

"Yes, he is at his work station on the 92nd floor."

"Fabulous," she responded, stalking towards the lift. "Do I have access?"

"Yes, Dr. Granger. Mr. Stark permitted you access."

"He's going to regret that," she muttered.

"Yes, I do believe he will," agreed the AI. "Should I alert Mr. Stark to your visit?"

"Does he not receive notifications as he does with my lab?"

"Yes, he does, however, he is currently occupied by his latest project. Should I alert him to your arrival, Dr. Granger?"

"And warn him of my wrath? Not a chance," she grumbled, stepping into the lift, pressing the button for the 92nd floor, swiping her key card and pressing her hand palm flat against the glowing panel.

Stepping out onto the floor above her lab, she took but a brief moment to notice the marble flooring, modern interior and plush furniture before she navigated her way towards what she believed to be Tony's work station. Well, she only assumed so given the loud, blaring music coming from the other side of the room, music she didn't quite recognise but she'd assume was either metal or rock, something similar to the Weird Sisters.

The glass panel automatically opened at her arrival, allowing her access and she stepped into the large room, spying the array of tech items that littered the space, half of which she didn't recognise or understand how to use, but the most impressive was the holographic screens, a large one in the centre of the room and the others smaller and sat by each work station.

Her eyes searched for Tony, spying him squirrelled away, perching at a workbench, hunched over as he tinkered with whatever was laid on the surface before him. With his back to her, she stormed forward, her arrival gone unnoticed due to the loud music, something that was giving her a headache. How the hell did he work with such a racket happening around him?

She stopped behind him, her posture straight and shoulders set and seeming to feel her presence, he slowly sat up and looked over his shoulder before returning his eyes forward, quickly doing a double-take.

He set the screwdriver down and swivelled his stool to fully face her, his eyes widening and slowly taking in her appearance. Her soot-covered t-shirt and jeans, the soot covering her face as though she were a cartoon character who'd been stood near a gun powder explosion. Her hair was singed at the tips and surrounded her in a cloud, something that looked far worse than her younger years, and her face was set into an unpleased, unpleasant expression.

Reaching over, he blindly tapped a finger against the phone on the table and the music shut off, leaving only silence.

"Hey, Granger," he greeted cheerily, his eyes returning to her face after completing his perusal of her appearance. "You done something different with your hair? It suits you," he offered with a smile.

"You did this," she snapped.

He scoffed. "I did not. Innocent until proven guilty and I see no evidence," he folded his arms over his chest and leaned into the edge of the workbench behind him, and he lifted his chin as though he was offended by her accusation.

She pinned him with a glare before reaching into her back pocket and drawing back with a zip lock bag fisted in her grasp, a zip lock bag that held the remains of a slice of pepperoni pizza.

"I found this."

"Okay...?" He questioned slowly.

"In one of my experiments. The bloody thing exploded in my face, luckily, no physical harm was caused but things could've gone very badly very quickly."

The Monday after she'd had dinner with Tony she hadn't expected to walk into her lab and have one of her experimental potions blow up in her face. After doing a health check and ensuring she had no damage or injuries, she'd gone searching through the remains, trying to determine what had caused the explosion when everything had been going to plan. Imagine her surprise when she'd found a surprisingly relatively still intact slice of pepperoni pizza lodged at the bottom of her cauldron.

"How's that my fault?" He argued. "You're a scientist, you should know better than to consume food in a lab."

She growled at him, something that had his expression faltering before his cool mask slipped back into place.

"Not only would I never eat in my lab, knowing the dangers that might occur should something find its way into one of my experiments, accident or otherwise, I would never eat pizza for breakfast. Leftover pizza I might add. And, it's pepperoni. I hate pepperoni."

He gasped in outrage, his folded arms dropping. "How dare you?!"

"Pepperoni's disgusting."

"Pepperoni's a food of the Gods. Take that back," he rose to his feet, scowling down at her.

"No, but you can take this back," she dropped the zip lock bag onto his workbench and her hands settled on her hips. "I know it was you."

"Again, innocent until proven guilty."

"Alright then, how's this for proof? There is only you and me that has access to my lab. And it certainly wasn't me, by default that leaves you."

"Evidence?" He challenged.

She narrowed her eyes. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Dr. Granger?" Replied the AI.

"What are the access logs for my lab for today?"

"Don't answer that, Jarvis," interrupted Tony.

"Ignore him, please tell me," said Hermione.

"Dr. Granger, your lab was first accessed by Mr. Stark at 05:53 and he was recorded leaving at 06:07. Your lab was next accessed by yourself at 07:13 and you are shown to have left at 10:37."

"Snitch!" Called Tony, glaring up at the ceiling. "He's lying," he told her. "He needs an upgrade, just a few technical faults that need sorting out."

"I assure you, Mr. Stark, I am at maximum efficiency," said Jarvis.

Hermione arched an eyebrow in challenge. "It was you. What the Hell were you thinking? I said I work with highly dangerous components, surely a sensible person would've stayed clear. Do you have any idea what would've happened to you had the experiment gone belly-up with you in the room and not I? The bloody pizza altered the consistency and the pepperoni reacted badly to the other components. How did it even end up in there? What did you do, stick your head over the experiment and the pizza slice fell out of your mouth?"

"Maybe," he admitted glumly, once more folding his arms over his chest and his shoulders slumping. "It's your fault," he accused.

"How is it my fault?" She demanded.

"If you'd have just told me what it is you were doing, I wouldn't have gone snooping."

"I can't believe this," she laughed to herself and shook her head. "You're insane."

"Brilliant, insanely brilliant," he corrected. "I know," he said smugly.

"No, just insane," she quipped. "Jarvis, contact the best psychologist in the country, I do believe Tony needs a consultation, he seems to have banged his head one too many times, no doubt from his time flying about in that metal suit of his."

"Yes, Dr. Granger... I can see that Dr. Mary Oswald is the country's leading..."

"She's joking, Jarvis," injected Tony.

"No, I'm not," she interrupted.

"Oh, I see, very well done, Dr. Granger," praised Jarvis.

"Anyway, what's the deal with the giant-ass pots? If I didn't know any better I would say they were cauldrons."

Hermione felt her mouth twitch.

"They are cauldrons. I'm a witch and I brew magical potions for a living," she confessed.

He rolled his eyes. "Funny," he deadpanned. "I know you're not a witch."

"How?" She challenged.

He lifted his hand, counting each point he listed on his fingers. "One, they don't exist. Two, magic's not real; it's all sleight of hand, distractions, mirrors and illusions. Three, you're too pretty... Witches are green-skinned with large noses and warts. Four, they melt when they come into contact with water... Case and point..."

He reached for a glass of water she hadn't noticed, dipped his fingertips into the water and then flicked the water at her face.

"Hey!" She called, barely stopping herself from smacking him. He was downright infuriating.

"See? No melty means no witchy."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pinched her nose. "Look, stay the hell out of my lab unless you give me warning that you're coming for a visit so I might stabilise the environment. And do not bring food in."

She spun on her heel and took her leave, pausing when Tony called,

"See ya later, Cinderella."

Twisting to face him, her eyes narrowed. "I was going to just let it go but now... You've brought this on yourself."

"What?" He arched an eyebrow.

"War."

"War?" He gulped.

"War," she confirmed. "Battle lines have been drawn, Stark. Prepare yourself for a loss. And I'm billing you for the cost of getting my hair fixed."

Taking her leave, she heard Tony say, "Jarvis, revoke Granger's access to this floor."

"Right away, Sir," agreed the AI. "But if I might, Sir? I do believe that won't stop her."

~000~000~000~

It was the next day when she stepped out of the lift and into the foyer, heading for the doors so she might go in search of some lunch, when she ploughed straight into a hard chest and barely righted her balance before she landed on the ground.

Pushing her hair out of her face and lifting her gaze, a snort instantly left her.

"It's not funny," scowled Tony.

"Good afternoon, Tony, did you do something different to your hair?" She asked innocently. "You look lovely."

"You did this to me," he accused, violently swivelling his index finger between her and his head, gesturing to the now red and gold streaked strands of hair.

"I did not."

"You did!"

"Innocent until proven guilty," she chirped, echoing his words from the day before. "And in any case... How could I have possibly done it? You revoked my access to your floor yesterday, and you watched me leave. Have you received any parcels in the mail since my leaving your work station? Anything that might cause such a change in appearance? I'd say the most likely would be shampoo that's been infused with hair dye, in which case, have you washed your hair recently? And how did it come out so perfect? I swear, that could be a replica of the paintwork on your suit."

"I know it was you. I don't know how you did it, but I'll find out," he promised, stepping around her and heading for the lift, glaring at those that broke out into whispers and sniggers.

"Was it you?"

She faced forward once more, her eyes slowly taking in the tall, broad form of the man stood before her. His dark hair was cut short, his dark eyes surveying her carefully. He was clean-shaven, his black suit, shirt and tie crisp and his shoes perfectly shined. Looking to the slight disfiguration in the bridge of his nose, she assumed he'd had it broken several times before, likely fighting. Given his appearance, she'd estimate he either partook in a sport or once did, and coupled with the nose, she'd assume possibly one that involved fighting. Perhaps boxing or martial arts?

"Excuse me?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Happy Hogan," he introduced, giving her hand a firm shake. "Mr. Stark's personal bodyguard and chauffeur."

"Hermione Granger, his newest employee," she greeted.

"Oh, I know who you are," he responded, his dark eyes flashing with amusement. "He hasn't stopped talking about you since the weekend. It seems you've made quite the impression on him."

"Well, obviously not, otherwise he wouldn't have gone snooping through my lab."

His mouth twitched. "Was it you?" He repeated.

"It was," she admitted, a snigger escaping the taller, broader man.

"I see he's met his match with you. How'd you do it?" He asked curiously.

"I'm a witch," she shrugged her shoulders.

"Alright then, don't tell me," he held his hands up before walking around her and backing up towards the lift so he might still talk with her. "Do me a favour? Go easy on him?"

"Not a chance, he deserves everything that's coming to him."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "A difficult few weeks it is for me then," he nodded.

"I tell you what, out of consideration, I'll bake you cookies."

"Peanut butter?"

"That's disgusting," she grimaced. "But as you wish. Good luck, Mr. Hogan."

His mouth twitched and he tipped his head, stepping into the lift. "I think I might need it."

"You will," she confirmed.

As the doors closed, the last thing she saw from him was his mouth pulling into a smirk.

~000~000~000~

"Jarvis?" Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, Dr. Granger?"

"Where is he?"

"Mr. Stark is currently on route to Paris. He is expected to arrive in ninety-five minutes. Would you like me to patch you through?"

"Yes, please."

"One moment, Dr. Granger."

It went quiet before his voice sounded.

"Ah, Granger, what's the problem? I see you took the morning off, feeling better?"

"Shut it, Tony," she growled. "I took the morning off because you told me the lift was out of commission and wouldn't be fixed until this afternoon. Now I know you were lying."

"Was I? Why would I do such a thing?" He replied angelically.

"You know why," she snapped.

It'd been almost two weeks since the pranking war had started and just when Hermione thought she'd won and Tony would admit defeat, he'd come back with some hidden trick up his sleeve. They both started small with simple, childish pranks here and there, such as Tony anomalously sending parcels to the foyer for her to collect and when she opened them they were empty boxes and she'd travelled 91 floors for nothing, or Hermione taping the doorway of the lift when Tony told her he was popping down for a visit, so he'd walk right into the tape and get tangled.

But Tony had kicked things up a notch that day.

The moment she'd stepped out of the lift, she noticed. It was hard not to. He'd had every surface, wall, window and piece of equipment covered and moulded with photos, newspapers and magazine articles all pertaining to him. His face stared at her no matter where she looked. The only comfort she took was that they weren't of the wizarding variety. She'd actually kill him if she had to look at his smirking or winking face.

"You created a bloody shrine to yourself in my lab."

It was lucky she'd scrapped all experiments the day before and that all of her cauldrons had been emptied and cleaned, otherwise Tony might've messed with something he shouldn't have and gotten injured.

"I did it for you. Honestly, you're so ungrateful," he sighed.

"Ungrateful! Ungrateful! How the Hell am I supposed to work when I've got you staring at me and half of my equipment's out of service?"

"I didn't want you to miss me whilst I'm gone," he replied flippantly and she rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "And now, I can supervise, you know, ensure you don't do anything stupid in my absence?"

"That's not possible, all of the stupidity's on that bloody plane with you," she quipped.

"Ouch! That hurts my feelings, Granger, I'll have you know Happy's very smart," he defended.

"Oh, for the love of..." She sighed. "Happy?"

"Yes, Dr. Granger," carried the voice of Tony's bodyguard. "Smack him for me, I'm not there to do it."

"I don't believe it's good practice to harm the one I'm employed to protect," he responded, his amusement with the situation unhidden.

"If you don't, I won't bake you any more peanut butter cookies," she threatened.

It went silent for a total of seven seconds.

"You're considering it, aren't you?" She asked knowingly.

"What?!" Tony's voice rose in surprise, outrage and disappointment. "You'd risk losing your job over cookies?"

"You haven't tried them," argued Happy. "I swear, they're the best peanut butter cookies I've ever tasted."

"I don't believe this. Betrayal! I'm being betrayed for cookies!" Cried Tony.

"They're damn good cookies!" Protested Happy.

Hermione sniggered.

"Don't laugh. You started this! I hope you're happy with yourself!" Said Tony.

"Yes, I am, very," she confirmed. "Enjoy the remainder of your flight, don't frighten the Parisians with your squabbles."

"You... You..." He spluttered.

"Did you purposely set out to cause a disagreement?" Questioned Happy.

"Not at first," she admitted, "But I couldn't help myself."

"And the cookies?" He asked hopefully.

"Will be waiting for you when you get back," she promised.

"This is gonna be a long three days," Happy grumbled.

"Granger, take the weekend off," Tony instructed.

"What?" Her voice rose in horror at the very thought of taking time away from work.

"It's Friday, I can see from the logs you've clocked sixty hours this week. As you said, half of your equipment's out of commission and it'll take some time to get your lab back in order. I'll send someone in to clean it up over the weekend, so take the weekend off. Have some fun. Enjoy yourself. Be normal. Get drunk."

She rolled her eyes. "I have a job to do, Tony."

"Yeah, and you've clocked twenty hours overtime, take a damn break. I'm gonna have Jarvis revoke your access to all floors and facilities until Monday morning."

"What? You can't do that!" She cried.

"I can, I own the building," he pointed out. "Self-care, Granger. You work too much and you'll burn yourself out. I need you healthy and sane."

"No, I have..."

"Jarvis, revoke Granger's access to all floors and facilities," Tony ordered, interrupting her rebuttal.

"Right away, Sir," agreed the AI.

"And if she hasn't left the building in fifteen minutes, have security escort her out."

"What! Are you..."

"Billionaire out..."

"Tony? Tony? You bloody..." She let out a noise of frustration. "Did he just hang up on me?"

"Yes, I believe he did, Dr. Granger," replied Jarvis.

"Patch me through," she ordered.

"It appears he has turned off his device and he is ignoring the comms on the jet, Dr. Granger."

"Oh, that's just perfect," she grumbled, folding her arms over her chest and scowling as her eyes darted about her mistreated lab.

If she weren't so annoyed with him, she might've appreciated his prank.

"Dr. Granger?" Questioned Jarvis.

"Yes?"

"You have twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds to leave the building or I must call security."

"I'm going to kill him," she vowed darkly.

~000~000~000~

"Granger! I know it was you!"

Hermione halted to a stop in the foyer, adjusted the collar of her pea coat and then turned to face Tony as he stalked towards her, his expression filled with fury.

"Hello, it's lovely to see you, too. How was Paris?" She greeted cheerily.

"Awful. Stop playing games, I know it was."

"What was me?" She tipped her head.

"Jarvis! You defiled him," he pointed an accusing finger at her, scowling down at her.

"I did no such thing," she denied.

He narrowed his eyes. "Jarvis?"

"Ee, Yallabai?" Responded the AI.

"I don't see an issue," she shrugged.

"You don't see an issue? That's not even English! Hell, I don't even know what language it is, so I can't even have him translated. I'll have to reset the entire system manually and he'll be out of commission for hours."

She arched an eyebrow. "Jarvis, raira min waka," she instructed.

Tony blinked slowly and took a small step back in surprise and after three seconds passed, the melody of Eye of the Tiger began to play, only the words were sung in that same foreign language but the same British accent.

Tony looked about ready to have a conniption and Hermione was thoroughly enjoying herself, especially when she noticed the other employees looking about in confusion as they entered and left the building.

Folding her arms over her chest, she began humming along, her mouth twitching at the horrified expression that crossed Tony's face.

"It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight. Risin' up to the challenge of our rival..." She sang along softly in English. "Wanda ya tsira ya san abin da yake cikin dare. And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger... Na gode, Jarvis," she finished, the music shutting off and Jarvis halting in his singing.

"What the Hell was that?" Tony whispered, horrified.

"I thought that was obvious. Jarvis just gave us a lovely rendition of Eye of the Tiger."

"You understood him? You can speak that language? What is it? Tell me!"

"No, I rather enjoy his new default language," she grinned.

"You monster!" He spluttered. "Tell me!"

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "But only if you beg."

"I'm not begging," he refused.

"Very well. Ban kwana, Jarvis."

"Ban kwana, Dr. Granger," replied the AI.

She turned and left the building, barely taking three steps before Tony appeared before her, his expression pleading.

"For God Sake. Please, give me back my AI. What language is he speaking?" He begged.

She smiled victoriously. "During my studies, I spent some time travelling parts of Africa, you ever been? It's lovely, filled with culture and..."

"Get to the point, Granger," Tony interrupted.

She rolled her eyes. "Let's see if you can guess. It's a Chadic language spoken by an ethnic group of people who reside in Sub-Saharan Africa, mostly within the territories of Niger and northern Nigeria, but there are small minorities in Ghana, Sudan and Cameroon."

"I've not a clue, just tell me."

"Impatient," she tsk'ed. "I happened to meet a little girl and she introduced me to her family, lovely people. Anyway, I learned enough of the language to string together a sentence or two, and I admit, I did do a little more research before I had Jarvis change his default settings.

"I'll ban you from your lab if you don't get to the point," he scowled.

"Hausa."

"What?" His brow furrowed.

"Hausa," she repeated. "That's the language."

"I've never heard of it."

"It's spoken by approximately eighty million people, so it shouldn't be too hard to find a translator willing to help you."

"Or you could do it," he pointed out.

"I could," she agreed with a nod before turning and walking away, sniggering to herself as she heard his grumbled insults.

~000~000~000~

"Tony!" Hermione shrieked, stepping out of the lift and doing her best to waddle her way forward.

Unfortunately, she lost her balance and slipped, falling forward, banging her knees on the hard marble flooring and her hands stinging as they caught her fall. She winced in pain.

"What's all this damn noise? I'm trying to work... Oh crap!"

Hermione lifted her head, glaring at Tony as he rushed forward and crouched before her, offering his hand so he might help her up. She considered slapping it away and refusing his help, but despite her annoyance with his current practical joke, she thought it to be childish when she did need the assistance. After all, she currently had a stool glued to her arse and without help, she'd only lose balance again.

"I don't believe you," she scowled, and now that she was back on her feet, she was forced to lean and rest on the stool so she was more sitting than standing.

"I didn't do anything," he denied.

"Jarvis?" Hermione prompted, folding her arms over her chest.

"Mr. Stark entered your lab at 13:07, exactly twenty-three seconds after you collected your lunch from the foyer."

"Snitch," Tony muttered. "Jarvis, remind me to programme you to lie."

"Yes, Sir," said the Ai.

"What were you thinking?" Hermione demanded.

"That you work too hard, you're always on your feet and you needed to sit and rest more," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Admittedly, this wasn't the worst prank he'd pulled and she supposed there'd been madness behind his method. He'd been telling her for weeks to slow down and take a breather; that whatever she was working on wouldn't and couldn't be achieved if she didn't take care of herself and she wasn't working on full brain power because she was too tired. Glueing a stool to her arse was only something else to add to the list of his methods at getting her to slow down.

"What did you use?"

"Well...?"

Her eyes narrowed, seeing his sheepish expression.

"Tony?" Her voice lowered in warning.

He laughed nervously and took a step back. "You see, I wasn't actually expecting you to sit down and by the time that you did, I thought the glue would've long since dried," he defended.

"What did you use?" She repeated.

"Industrial glue," he muttered.

"What?! As in the stuff they use in manufacturing?! God's Sake, Tony!"

"It's all I had!" His voice rose in panic.

"Okay," she took a calming breath and closed her eyes. "Okay, we can fix that. You have a dissolving solution, right?"

"Um, yeah?"

"Damn it! You don't!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!"

"Then don't be a bloody idiot and glue me to a stool without having the dissolvent. It can cause some serious damage if it's soaked through my jeans and to my skin, I'll have to go to the hospital!"

"I'll pay the bill," he offered guiltily.

"I swear to God, I'm going to hex you!" She hissed.

"Hex me?" His brow furrowed.

"I'm a witch, witches hex people," she argued.

"Jarvis, book a consultation with Dr. Oswald, I believe the glue fumes have gone to Granger's head."

"Right away, Sir."

"He's joking, Jarvis," Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jarvis, can you order industrial glue dissolvent, please?"

"Yes, Dr. Granger... The earliest it can be delivered is 18:00."

"Fantastic, I'm stuck like this for four bloody hours!"

"On the bright side, you can take this time to relax. Sit back, kick your feet up, eat some snacks and watch TV. Here, you can use mine," said Tony.

Hermione squeaked when her stool slid over the marble floor as Tony pushed it towards the large corner suite couch and the even larger TV that sat before it. In fact, she'd never seen one so big.

"You want a bigger TV?" She snarked.

"If they offer one, sure," he agreed. "I had to have that one custom made."

"Of course, you did," she sighed. "It's only Wednesday," she whined.

"Relax, take a breather, it'll be fine. Here, watch whatever you want, just no boring scientific discoveries or documentaries," he pushed the remote into her hand. "I'll be right back."

Scowling down at the remote in her hand, she resigned herself to the fact she was just going to have to do as he'd suggested. She didn't think he'd give her a book and if she did manage to sneak one in he'd just take it off her whilst questioning where it had come from. As she flicked through the many channels, she noted that nothing caught her attention and given the time of day, it was mostly soap operas and reruns of programmes she's never heard of before.

"Here."

Tony appeared beside her, unceremoniously dumped a large bowl in her arms and then all but dived onto the couch, settling himself into the cushions as he held his own bowl. Looking down at it, she noted it was popcorn.

"Popcorn, seriously?"

"You need to switch off that brain of yours and watch some mind-numbing TV, and it's best done with popcorn."

"Popcorn's disgusting," she argued. "It has an awful texture, leaves a weird aftertaste and gets stuck in your teeth."

He looked up to her before he set his bowl on the cushion beside him and then he leaned over and reached up, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead, a frown marring his features.

"What are you doing?" She batted his hand away and leaned further away from him.

"Checking your temperature, you're clearly not well. What d'you mean you don't like popcorn? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me," she scowled at him. "Popcorn is disgusting," she said adamantly.

"Jarvis, call a doctor, Granger's clearly delusional."

"No, Jarvis, don't," she interrupted before he could reply. "Aside from the fact I'm glued to a bloody stool, there's nothing wrong with me. And there's nothing wrong with not liking popcorn."

"Fine, be ungrateful," he shrugged, leaning back into the couch and reaching for his bowl. "What've you settled on?"

"You're staying? I thought you had work to do?" She tipped her head.

"Nah, I don't trust you not to try and wander off and sneak back to your lab. Besides, I've hit a bit of bump in my newest project and could use a break. Have you checked the movie channels?"

"There's nothing on."

"Bullshit, there's hundreds of channels. Give me the remote."

"No, you gave it to me so I could choose."

"Well now I'm taking it back," he argued, reaching for it but she smacked his hand away and before she knew it, they were fighting over the remote.

So much for relaxation.

~000~000~000~

"Granger!"

Hermione bit her lip and held back a snigger as the angry tone came through the speakers.

"Yes, Tony?" She replied.

"Get your ass up here now!"

"Is there something wrong?" She asked innocently.

"You know damn well there is. Get here now or I'm launching you off the helipad," he angrily promised.

She opened her mouth to respond but the line cut off before she could. Taking a breath, setting her expression into one of innocence and confusion, she headed for the lift and travelled the short distance of one floor.

She'd barely stepped out when her eyes were assaulted and honestly, it couldn't have gone better. George had assured her there was no possible way to change the colour of someone's skin, only the hair follicles, something he had plenty of experience with. Hermione had disagreed and she'd worked hard to prove him wrong. She'd have to send a vial containing the memory to him as soon as she had the time. He'd be beside himself with her invention.

"You did this to me!" Tony hissed, his eyes flashing and whilst it was evident he was furious, she wasn't blind to the confusion and curiosity of how she'd managed such a thing, especially without him noticing. After all, it wasn't as if she'd snuck into his bedroom when he was sleeping and she'd physically painted him.

"What happened?" She questioned, her brow furrowing. "Are you okay? You're looking a little... Blue."

A snort sounded from the kitchen area and it was quickly followed by muffled laughter.

"You did this!" He accused, staring down at her.

"And how? How did I do this?" She challenged.

"I don't know," he confessed. "But I know it was you. Who else could it have been?"

"You know, you remind me of someone... Hang on..."

She reached into her lab coat pocket and drew back with a pair of round black glasses before she reached up and slipped them onto his nose and over his ears.

"Ah, that's who," she nodded. "Brainy Smurf, is that really you?"

"Granger!" He hissed but Hermione was far from frightened and louder muffled laughter once more sounded from the kitchen, and she could've sworn she'd heard the sound of a photo being taken. "Happy, delete that now!" He ordered, his eyes remaining locked on hers. "Fix this," he demanded.

"I can't fix this, I don't even know how this happened."

"Don't lie to me, I know it was you and you have to fix this. I have a conference call with Japan in two hours. Pepper's been on my ass for weeks 'cause I keep rescheduling and cancelling. If I show up like this, she'll murder me."

"I'm sure she'll understand," Hermione offered. "I'm sure I've heard of a medical condition that turns the skin a bluish-purple, perhaps you have that? You might want to be seen to by a doctor."

"There's not a chance in Hell I'm leaving here like this. And you are a fully qualified medical doctor! Just fix me, I know you know how."

"Maybe," she nodded. "But I want something in return."

"What?! You did this, it's your mess, you fix it."

"No, it's your mess. You're the one that started it, Violet Beauregarde," she quipped.

Wheezing sounded from the kitchen, followed by hands hitting against the countertop.

"Calm the fuck down, Happy, you're gonna have a heart attack," Tony called over his shoulder, again, his gaze locked with hers. "Fine, you wanna hear it? I can't take it anymore. You win! Truce! No more pranks."

"I did warn you," she shrugged one shoulder. "Everything that's happened is your own doing. You've only got yourself to blame."

"Yeah, I'm an idiot, you're smarter than me, blah blah blah. Just fix it."

"Orange juice," she said simply.

"What?" His expression fell.

"Orange juice, drink some, approximately half a glass should do it."

"You're telling me the cure to this... Whatever it is... Is a glass of orange juice?" He questioned in disbelief.

"Yep," she popped the 'p'. "Simple, Bob's your Uncle, Fanny's your Aunt and you're blue."

"I hate you," he grumbled, turning away and stalking towards the kitchen.

"No, you don't," she said confidently, following him and leaning against the kitchen island, watching as he dug through the fridge and spying Happy perched on a stool as he wiped at his reddened face, removing the tears of laughter. "You're jealous you don't know how to do such a thing."

He turned around to face her, a scowl on his face but seeing her arched eyebrow and her smirk, it soon faded, being replaced by a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Only a little," he confessed. "How'd you do it?"

"So you can terrorise everyone? I'm not telling you."

He pouted as he poured himself a glass of orange juice before downing half of it in one go, Hermione noting he kept his eyes on his hand, watching for the change.

"It'll wear off in about ten minutes," she promised.

Tony set the glass on the counter before he turned to look at Happy, seeing him eating a cookie.

"These the super-duper-best-in-the-world-you'll-never-taste-a-cookie-like-it cookies?" He asked, reaching into the zip lock bag she'd given Happy that morning, Hermione seeing the bodyguard's face fall before he attempted to swot Tony's hand away, only he wasn't fast enough and he escaped with a cookie.

Tony brought it up to his mouth and almost ate it in one go, chewing thoughtfully before his eyes widened.

"Damn!" He said around a mouthful of cookie. "No wonder you'd consider getting fired over a cookie. I'd fire myself," he admitted.

Hermione sniggered when Tony reached for another one, only Happy was faster this time and he all but darted from the kitchen and to the lift, a zip lock bag of cookies in hand and leaving behind Tony blinking slowly.

"I swear, I've never seen him move so fast. If only he was as protective of me as he is of those cookies."

"Don't be jealous."

"I'm not jealous," he denied.

"You're as jealous as you are blue."

"Granger!"

She sniggered, a smirk pulling at her mouth as she began humming.

"What is that?" Tony's brow furrowed, trying to identify the tune.

"Yo listen up, here's a story, about a little guy who lives in a blue world..."

"Seriously?" He grouched.

She grinned, continuing with, "I'm blue da ba dee da ba daa. Da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa. Da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa."

"I'm going to kill you," he grumbled, sulkily drinking the last of his orange juice before glaring down at his blue-tinted skin.

"You know, we just need a white hat and you'll have a wonderful smurf cosplay costume. I'd easily mistake you for brainy smurf."

"Granger!" He warned.

"What?" She asked innocently. "At least it wasn't grouchy smurf or even baby smurf, both currently suit your behaviour. Hey, if we snap a photo and send it to the creators of the smurfs, they might be so inspired they base a new character on you. Imagine the potential! Arrogant smurf? Goatee Smurf? Billionaire smurf?"

She made a bee-line for the lift when Tony removed a fork from one of the drawers, his expression indicating he had every intention of stabbing her with it.

~000~000~000~

On the Friday that marked the end of her first month with Stark Industries, she stepped into her lab, removed her coat and replaced it with her lab coat before she noticed the envelope and gift box, suspiciously placed on her workbench.

She approached slowly, cautiously, waiting for them to explode in her face with paint, glitter, smoke or any other component Tony might use. They'd agreed on a truce, no more pranks, and it had been over a week since she'd claimed victory, but she wasn't stupid. She didn't trust Tony as far as she could throw him and she'd been on guard since, waiting for him to strike.

"Jarvis? There's an envelope and gift box on my workbench."

"Mr. Stark left that for you this morning, Dr. Granger," replied the AI. "He wished to give it to you in person but he was unexpectedly called away on business."

"Is it a prank?"

"No, I don't believe so."

Relaxing slightly, she drew her stool from beneath the workbench and perched atop it, reaching for the note that lay over the envelope and flipping it open. Her eyes did a quick sweep, recognising Tony's handwriting and she always found it amusing and annoying that he couldn't seem to decide between writing in lower case or uppercase as he alternated between the two.

Granger,

You've made it through your first month with Stark Industries, and now that you no longer have to impress me, stop working so damn much. I've instructed Jarvis to revoke your access to the Tower (don't roll your eyes at me) until Monday, starting from 09:00. Take some time for yourself, and don't spend it all in one place. Don't do anything I wouldn't do and for God Sake, enjoy yourself. You've earned it.

Putting the note aside and being completely unsurprised by him banning her for the weekend, especially since this was the third week in a row he'd done so, she reached for the envelope and opened it, revealing a wad of one hundred dollar bills.

She actually choked and had to pat herself on the chest as she coughed and spluttered, her eyes watering and her throat hurting, as she quickly realised the amount in the envelope was more than she'd been expecting, and it was certainly more than she'd been paid by SHIELD.

Despite working for a secret spy organisation on the down low and despite the hours she put in, she was only paid the salary of a government employee, the same as the rest of the employees and Agents. Whilst she wasn't in it for the money, she admitted the wage was rubbish and she could earn more with her free-lance projects whilst working fewer hours.

She and Tony had never specifically discussed her wage, Hermione expecting to be paid the same rate as she had been at SHIELD. But looking at the amount currently in her hand, it was nowhere near her previous wage. In fact, she was currently staring at forty thousand dollars. As a monthly wage! That was ten grand a week!

"Jarvis, patch me through to Tony," she muttered, struggling to clear her head of the surprise and disbelief.

"Mr. Stark has instructed me to block all of your attempts to reach him. He said and I quote, 'Granger, calm the hell down. It's just money, I'm a billionaire, I've a belt that cost more than your wage. I don't know what you're working on but I know you're worth the price. But don't tell anyone, they'll get jealous and I'll have a strike on my hands. I don't have the time to deal with riots and chanting, I've got a headache just thinking about it. Take the weekend to yourself, have a spa day, visit friends, go shopping, I don't care, just stay away from the Tower and get some rest. You've worked more hours than I have this month... Jarvis, make sure she's out of the lab by 09:00'."

"Thank you, Jarvis," she mumbled, giving her head a shake.

Honestly, the man was insane!

Setting the envelope aside and struggling to take her eyes from it, she reached for the gift box and with her guard lowered, she hoped it wasn't booby-trapped. Removing the lid and peering inside, Hermione could honestly say she didn't give a toss about the money, what lay inside the box mattered most to her.

She peered down at a plate sitting a slice of white chocolate cheesecake and a slice of red velvet cake.

He'd remembered.