CHAPTER EIGHT


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.

Q&A

So glad you loved our adorably not jealous Tony, it was a hoot to write.

Chupeechan – They won't be getting together quite yet, but it won't be too long a wait, a few more chapters I think, depending on the chapter lengths.

Psychosae – Not yet, I don't think we'll be seeing any major action until we hit the Avenger's timeline. I've taken liberties and altered the canon timeline to better fit my purpose, so it will happen later. I want Hermione and Tony's relationship to be fully established before we hit the Avenger's plot.

riversgirl75 – Hermione will have her 'not' jealous moment soon.

DeathDagger – Jarvis is quickly becoming my favourite thing to write about this, aside from Hermione and Tony's bickering, of course. A witty and nosy Jarvis is my kind of Jarvis.

Arielara Lupin – The timeline's all skewed and chaotic. When I planned everything out and started writing, I had originally intended for this to take place in 2012 a few months before Avengers. But then I realised I'd make a mistake with my calculations and didn't wish to go back and change it, so, Avenger's will be happening in 2013, not 2012 as canon, something that I don't think will matter all that much as everything's simply been pushed back a year. I want a strong and established relationship with Hermione and Tony before the Avengers arrive, and for that, they need time.

Fairytalebliss182 - Hermione's realisation will happen soon. Or maybe not, seeing as they're both living in denial at the moment.


Page count: 9


"Jarvis, please inform Tony that dinner's ready," said Hermione, as she finished plating up their meal for the evening.

"Right away, Dr. Granger," agreed the AI, and when Hermione finished putting the dishes in the sink to be washed later, Tony made an appearance from his work station.

"What's on the menu tonight?" He asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

"Well, it's been a long day, so I settled for Chicken alfredo," she answered, placing the dish and fork before him and then taking her own seat beside him. "Is Happy joining us tonight? There's plenty left."

"I gave him the afternoon off," Tony replied.

Hermione paused with her fork mid-air before she reached out with her other hand, placing the back of it against his forehead.

"What're you doing?" He leaned back and away from her, eyeing her as though she were crazy.

"Well, clearly you're not well. The Tony I know would never give Happy the afternoon off," she defended.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. There was nothing that needed doing and I didn't plan on leaving the Tower, I had no use for him and there was no point in him standing around and making the place look untidy."

"Are you certain you're feeling okay?" She checked.

"Now that you mention it, I did feel a little funny after eating that fish you cooked last night."

Hermione scowled at him and turned back to her dinner, ignoring his smirk.

"Now that you're here, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"That sounds ominous," Tony commented, twisting on his stool to better face her.

"It's nothing bad," she assured him. "I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving the city for a few days."

Tony tipped his head to the side. "It's barely been three weeks of you being my roommate and you're already running for the hills."

"Don't be ridiculous," she rolled her eyes. "It's my Godson's birthday soon and I promised Harry I'd be there, and I haven't been back to London in almost six months, he's been nagging the hell out of me and I just want to get it over with."

"You don't sound excited to be going home," he observed.

She shrugged, her fork shifting and prodding the food on her plate rather than eating it. "I love my family and I adore my Godchildren, but to be honest, I hate going back because of Ron. He's an arsehole. Like a giant arsehole, you've never met an arsehole like him. I've met politicians that are nicer and that lie less. I'm not looking forward to my welcoming reception because I know he'll ruin everything. I just have to put it aside and brush off all his comments and try to not let him ruin this visit for me."

"I'm struggling to process the thought of you willingly taking time away from work," he admitted, giving his head a shake. "When are you going? How long will you be gone?"

"I'm hoping to leave tomorrow so I arrive on Wednesday, and I'll return no later than Monday, that way I won't miss too much work and I'm there long enough to appease Harry."

"You got the plane tickets yet?"

"No," she shook her head. "I thought I'd best talk to you first, in case you needed me here. I'm going to book a return flight tonight. I'll spend tomorrow securing my lab and stabilising my experiments so nothing explodes in my absence and I'll throw a few things into a suitcase and off I go. With London being five hours ahead of us, I'll have to get a late flight so I arrive in the morning, that way I can spend the day with the kids without wasting any time or being too tired."

"Hmm, hold off on that," he said, drawing his super fancy advanced tech phone from his pocket, his eyes locking on the screen. "I thought that was this week," he nodded to himself before setting the phone aside. "What a coincidence, it seems Pepper's got me booked to head out to London."

"What?" She blurted out in surprise.

"Yeah, I've been putting it off for months but she threatened me with violence if I cancelled this week."

"You're expected in London the same week I decide to visit my family?" She questioned in disbelief.

"Yep, as I said, what a coincidence," he smiled innocently.

"What do you need to be in London for?" Her brow furrowed.

She knew she was being nosy and she had no right to question him, his motives or his business requirements, objectives and goals, but she was struggling to get past the sheer coincidence in the matter.

"I've been wanting to expand Stark Industries for a few years," he shrugged. "The priority of the trip is property hunting so I might establish a London office, and I do have a few meetings lined up with potential developers. And this just works out perfect. You can save your time and money and hop on my private jet with me."

Hermione felt her heart stop.

She had absolutely no intention of flying anywhere. With her being so well connected to the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, there was always a port-key on standby for her use in cases of emergencies. And it would only take a few minutes, unlike the seven hour flight she was trying to avoid.

"No, that's alright, thanks. I'll just stick with my plan of a commercial flight, I don't want to disrupt your plans for the week."

"I wasn't due to leave until Friday," he admitted, "But I don't mind going a couple days early, it'll give me the opportunity to get away from here for a few days," he shrugged. "I don't see what the problem is. You don't have to buy plane tickets, we'll be taking off from a private airfield, they'll be zero security checks, you'll be far more comfortable, there'll be no one on the jet but us, and it's a faster flight time. It's nothing but benefits."

"Tony..."

"No," he interrupted her rebuttal. "I'm not taking no for an answer, it's the most logical solution. And this way, you can sneak Sally into the country and you won't have to leave her with a cat-sitter. So, I'll contact the pilots and have them move up the flight plan and ready the jet and we'll leave here at seven-thirty tomorrow night."

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and sighed.

She wasn't getting out of this.

~000~000~000~

"What're you waiting for?"

Hermione didn't answer. She couldn't. She was terrified.

She hated flying, whether it be by muggle or magical means. It was one of the reasons she and her parents only went on holidays that had a flight time of less than a few hours. Any longer and she'd have a panic attack. She much preferred port-keying, and although the experience was unpleasant, it was over within a few minutes.

"What's up?" Tony sidled up beside her, his hands slipping into his trouser pockets and he looked down at her from beneath his outrageously expensive sunglasses. Why was he wearing them? It was forecast for rain and it was nearing nine o'clock. It was dark outside.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "Nothing," she replied, bending to pick up her suitcase, only it was gone from beside her and when she darted her eyes about in search, she spotted Happy heading away from the car with her suitcase in hand.

Rolling her eyes, she rounded the car only to halt to a stop, her eyes catching the large jet that sat on the tarmac before her.

"You want a bigger jet?" She snarked.

"Maybe next year," Tony shrugged casually.

Tony gave her a nudge forward and as she reluctantly approached the jet, she threw him a glare over her shoulder before facing forward, gripping the handrail tightly as she climbed the stairs into the jet. She felt so out of place seeing the TV screens, the leather interior of the chairs and couch and the cashmere carpets. Should she take off her shoes? Oh, and of course he had a bar.

Feeling his presence behind her, she deliberately moved to take a seat, silently admitting they were comfortable but despite that, she didn't feel any less anxious about the flight. She'd already dosed herself with a Calming Draught before leaving the Tower and despite the time that had passed during the drive to the airfield, it hadn't helped to ease her in the slightest.

She sat ramrod straight, her hands clasped together tightly and resting on her lap as she tried to distract herself by mentally recounting the brewing recipe for a Pain Potion. Happy caught her attention from the corner of her eye when he boarded the jet for the final time with a cat carrier in hand.

He'd barely sealed the door shut when Tony released her fluffy feline no matter how many times Hermione had told him previously to leave her in the cat carrier for the duration of the flight. He'd argued that it was animal abuse to keep her confined in such small quarters for so many hours and he'd threatened to report her to the Animal Welfare groups. She'd argued that it was for Sally's safety, to prevent her from wandering somewhere she shouldn't and to minimise injury should something happen with the jet and they crash-landed. He hadn't listened to a word she'd said.

Despite her annoyance with him, she did appreciate her familiar strolling towards her with her fluffy tail swishing back and forth and she rubbed against her legs in a show of affection and support. Before Hermione had the opportunity to reach down and settle Sally on her lap, she'd already darted away from her, wishing to explore her new surroundings and she was unsurprised when she darted beneath the couch.

"You alright?" Tony asked, lazily draping himself in the seat directly opposite her and removing his sunglasses before he set them on the little table beside him.

"Fine," she lied.

He arched an eyebrow. "Yeah? Then why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

She opened her mouth to respond but snapped it shut when Happy stepped out of the cockpit and gave them both a nod before he took the seat on the other side of the jet. Seeing him buckling his seatbelt, Hermione was quick to do the same, her hands nervously shaking as she did so.

She gripped the armrests tightly and screwed her eyes shut, blocking out the sound of the pilot's voice over the speaker and when the jet lurched forward, her breath hitched and her heart pounded in her chest.

"Granger!"

She reluctantly lifted her head and slowly opened her eyes, meeting Tony's concerned gaze.

"What's the fuck's wrong with you?" He demanded.

"I hate flying," she admitted quietly.

"What?" His brow furrowed.

"It's my biggest fear."

"Oh, well I'd appreciate it if you removed your claws from the leather interior, it cost a fortune. You've nothing to worry about. I employ only the best, and statistically, flying is the safest way to travel and this jet is one of the best and safest models currently on the market."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Tony."

"What scares you the most? The takeoff? The landing? The flying? The height?"

"All of it, and most positively the falling from the sky and crashing to our deaths!"

"Last year, there were only thirty-two commercial aviation crashes, and only two of those occurred in the US," he offered.

"Fabulous," she grumbled sarcastically. "Whatever you're trying to do, it isn't working."

"Really?" He challenged. "Well, a plane's most likely to crash within the first three minutes of take-off and it's been," he paused, looking down at the watch on his wrist, "Nine minutes, we're clear and we've levelled out. And even if something were to happen, which is unlikely, not only are there safety measures in place, not only are there parachutes on board, but, I have my suit with me. Something happens, we just fly out. Simple."

Ignoring her annoyed glance, he unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed up and out of his seat, crossing over to the bar only to reappear moments later, holding a measure of scotch out to her in offering.

"This'll help," he promised.

She reluctantly released her grip from the armrest and took it from him with shaking fingers.

He retook his seat and watched her as she downed the amber liquid in one swallow, gripping the empty tumbler between her fingers tightly. She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose, feeling her shoulders lose some tension when she exhaled through the mouth and leaned further back into the seat. As she controlled her breathing and tipped her head back, she felt herself calming. Had he slipped something into her drink without her seeing? Or was it just the power of a good scotch?

"Better?"

"Yes," she admitted, keeping her eyes closed lest she opens them again and her anxiety continues to climb. "Did you slip something extra in?"

"No. I told you it'd help and you believed me, which led to you calming."

"Placebo," she muttered.

"Exactly," he nodded, not that she saw. "I never took you for a nervous flyer," he remarked thoughtfully. "If this is what you're like on a private jet, I'd hate to witness your little freak out on a commercial flight."

"It's not pleasant," she admitted. "I had a near miss when I was a kid."

"Meaning?"

She took a breath and reluctantly opened her eyes, blinking back the spots that blurred her vision until it cleared.

"My parents and I, I was about five-years-old when they took me on a plane for the first time; we were going skiing in Switzerland. During the flight, we hit some turbulence, enough that the oxygen masks were released and I can remember thinking 'I'm going to die.' Can you imagine a child believing that? When things settled down and my parents were able to calm me, there were issues with the engines and we were forced to make an emergency landing in bad weather, and it wasn't exactly gentle. My dad broke his nose and my mum had a concussion."

Tony blinked slowly, processing her confession before saying,

"I swear, if anything goes wrong, I'm kicking you out the door head first. I don't want your bad juju breaking my jet."

"I appreciate the concern," she muttered sarcastically, sending a glare towards Happy when he snorted but he quickly put his attention on the magazine in his hand.

"You should get some rest. If you want to spend the day with your family without jetlag or physically crashing, you best grab a few hours sleep. We should be landing in a little under six hours."

"I can't sleep on planes, I've tried but I can never relax or lower my guard enough to nod off, even for five minutes."

"I can change that, follow me."

He stood from his seat, pried the tumbler from her hand and deposited it on the bar along with his own. Turning to look over his shoulder, he arched a challenging eyebrow before walking further down the jet. Scowling, she unfastened her seatbelt and followed him on shaky legs, reaching the back of the jet and stepping through the open doorway.

Of course, he had a bedroom.

The large bed dominated the room, a TV screen was built into the wall opposite and an armchair sat in the corner with a small table nearby.

"There's a bathroom behind that door, fitted with a shower should you wish to jump through and freshen up," he gestured towards the left of the TV. "If you're hungry, there's snacks in the drawers below the TV or if you want a meal, there's kitchen facilities in the room we passed by the bar. I'll leave the door open so Sally can come and go as she pleases, and so we can hear you if you need us. I'll wake you thirty minutes before arrival. Get some sleep, don't argue with me."

He strode from the room and shut the door over but didn't close it as promised, before she'd even been able to reply.

Brushing a hand through her hair and sighing, she did admit to herself that she was exhausted. She'd been awake since five o'clock in the morning and it was now approaching ten o'clock at night. Taking into account the flight time and the time difference, if she wanted to arrive in London between eight and nine o'clock on Wednesday morning, they had to leave New York at nine o'clock at night.

She kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the large bed, staring up at the ceiling awkwardly. After several minutes, she huffed in annoyance and shifted to get more comfortable, and with the coolness of the pillow against her cheek and the calming effect the scotch had had on her, surprisingly, she felt herself dosing off.

~000~000~000~

"Happy, I can feel you staring," said Tony, his eyes distractedly on the laptop that sat on the table before him, one hand typing away at the keyboard and the other propping his head up. Sally had come out from beneath the couch and after a quick scratch behind the ear from him, she'd curled up into a contently sleeping ball on the seat Hermione had once occupied. "What is it?"

"Sir," he began before pausing, trying to correctly word what he wished to say. "As your chauffer and bodyguard, I have access to your itinerary six months in advance, and Ms. Potts ensures that I receive it before you do so I might prepare."

"And?" Tony prompted distractedly, his eyes still focused on the screen before him.

"A trip to London was not scheduled, which is why I was surprised when I received the call to contact the pilots so they might clear their schedules and ready the jet in time for leaving."

"There's nothing wrong with being spontaneous," Tony replied.

"And it's just a coincidence that Dr. Granger just happens to be visiting her family the same week you decide an impromptu trip to London is in order?"

"Yes, complete coincidence," Tony confirmed.

"So you didn't do this for her?" Happy needled.

"No, of course not," he denied. "She's been cooking British cuisine for weeks, I thought it was time to try it from the source, and I can do with a break from the Tower for a few days, especially with Pepper's couple dozen passive-aggressive phone calls these last few months. She's driving me insane."

When Happy didn't respond, Tony finally drew his eyes from his laptop and looked to him, spying his knowing look.

"What?" He questioned.

"Nothing," he responded innocently.

Tony narrowed his eyes slightly before rising from his seat, moving to the bar and pouring himself another measure of scotch. With the tumbler in hand, he continued further down the jet until he reached the bedroom, pushing the door open a little wider.

Propping his shoulder against the door frame and lifting the tumbler to his mouth as he sipped at the amber liquid, he watched her.

Laying in the centre of the bed and clad in her t-shirt, jeans and socks, she slept peacefully, her hair fanned out on the pillow, her mouth slightly parted, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took and a pillow held against her chest as she snuggled it like a child would a teddy bear.

He'd always known that she was almost a decade younger than him, but he'd never noticed how youthful she looked. In fact, she looked younger than her age. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume she was still in her early-twenties, a decade younger than her actual age. He'd always thought her to be pretty, but he'd never noticed the kindness of her expression, the softness of her features, the shine of her wild hair.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony startled and pushed away from the door frame, twisting to look behind him to see Happy with a questioning expression on his face.

Clearing his throat, he replied with, "Just checking she hasn't passed out or thrown up on my Egyptian cotton sheets."

Happy didn't look convinced but he didn't comment.

"Captain Hillard's been forced to alter the flight plan. There's a storm expected to hit in our direct path of flight. In order to avoid it, we'll be flying around it."

"What's the delay to the expected arrival time?" Tony questioned.

"Thirty minutes, Sir."

"Not too bad," Tony mused.

Hearing a soft sigh, he peered over his shoulder, spying Hermione shifting in her sleep before she settled, hugging the pillow to her tighter. Her eyes moved beneath her eyelids and the corner of her mouth tugged into a smile.

A streak of white and grey darted between his legs before leaping onto the bed, the mass of fur laying atop the pillow and burrowing under Hermione's arm and against her chest. When she affectionately rubbed her head against Hermione's chin before bestowing a lick to her cheek, she released a sleepy noise of disapproval at being disturbed.

Honestly, as he stared at the woman and fluff-ball that was her cat as they both snuggled whilst sleeping in his bed on his private jet, he'd never seen such an adorable sight. And oddly, for the first time in a long time...

He felt at peace.