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Chapter Five.

Sitting in the back of the car, Allie could feel the anxiety of it all bubbling in her stomach, trying so hard not to yack up the breakfast she had. When she had called Francis and told him she was not only sick with the flu, but she was also stricken by a really bad case of cramps from her monthly menstruation, he had all but rolled his eyes and told her to stay in bed. Due to her rather good track record of rarely missing a day of work and hardly ever calling in sick, she had gotten off quite easily. Yet, now, she felt like maybe she had jinxed her good health and was close to keeling over.

Nervousness, that was one word to describe how she felt. Dread, that could be another way to describe her feelings.

Waking up had been a tedious task, trying to peel herself from the warmth of her duvet, half tempted to chicken out and not go to the Compound as advised to do and wishing that she hadn't stayed up so late. She could barely sleep after the phone call the previous night and felt half dead, sluggish and dragging her heavy body as her eyes found it harder to stay up with each passing moment. The sharp buzzing of her alarm broke through the awakening morning, screaming in a croaking voice at Allie to get up; her head began to pound, sore and aching as her hand had found the silence button and barely refraining herself from smashing it. She might have stayed there the entire morning, let herself drift off into an unsteady sleep but Allie knew she couldn't, knew that there was no point ignoring what had been annoying her for so long.

But, as she sat on the cracked leather seats, watching the tightly packed sky high buildings spread apart, becoming sparse and smaller until trees replaced them with telephone lines scratching dark lines into the clouded sky, Allie wished she had stayed in bed.

Lisa had been shocked, to say the least; unlike last time, she hadn't been reduced to fits of excited squealing, but remained silent and gobsmacked, nearly dropping her cup and having the ceramic crash and scatter on the ground. With mouth agape, Lisa let out a quiet splutter that was quickly covered up as she placed her cup down, pushing Allie to call in sick to work. Helping Allie work on her sick voice, she pretended to hold a vigil at Allie's pretend sickbed as Allie told her soon to be former manager that she was stricken with an abundance of ailments, of period cramps, a stuffed nose, a drilling headache and a scratching throat. He seemed to take her words for face value as he gently told her to take whatever time she needed; some part of Allie thought that maybe he believed she was lying but was dealing with an issue that had been distracting her for two weeks, something more serious than a job interview with Tony Stark.

Allie almost wished it were true.

It had been 8:36 when Allie hung up and Lisa began to blur at the edges from how much she was containing her excitement, a toothy grin splitting across her face; far away, in the deep recesses of her mind, Allie felt the same, felt the buzz of eagerness that was not in line with her usual sullenness that was common for her whenever something out of the ordinary happened. She had let herself indulge in it, in the thought of meeting with the Tony Stark, of a real life superhero. Allie might have cringed at the word, once, but felt it apt to describe him because wasn't that what he and his team were? If not, what then?

Terrorists, echoed in her head, one that had lingered since reading all the articles about the amount of death and destruction that had remained after they had finished saving the world, after they continued to save the world but Allie shook it from her head. She was meeting with Tony Stark, not Iron Man, though one and the same, they were in different lines of work. As the driver drew further from the city and nearer to the Compound, Allie began to fidget in her seat, trying to quell the nervousness building in her as she tugged at her clothes.

Lisa had helped her to pick the clothes out; there was no denying how much of a mess Allie looked, from the bags beneath her eyes, to the frizz of her hair from being too lazy to brush through it properly after her shower and instead piling it on top of her head. She was dressed simply, her black jeans and brown ankle boots that she hadn't worn in eons and, hence, looked like they weren't dragged through mud and dirt every single day for the past three years. The simple white button up shirt was tucked into the waist of her jeans, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and paired with the black jacket Lisa had loaned her after the threat of downpour remained imminent. A straightener was run through her hair in order to tame it and the make up she wore was small, enough to hide the exhaustion that seemed to weigh her down but not enough to appear cakey.

Allie reached into her bag that lay beside her, taking a hold of her mirror to once more check her reflection, relieved to see that everything remained as perfect as it had been when she had left and not melted off of her face; make up had been her number one friend, as well as her archenemy through out her acne riddled and oily skin inflicted teen years.

Her leg jumped, bouncing on the dirty car floor that was littered with stones dragged in from outside and corners of wrappers stuck beneath the seat, the soft hum of the radio barely being discerned through the crackling as the taxi driver drummed her fingers on the steering wheel; Allie tentatively touched her hair, the ends rushing past down her shoulders and hoped it would last, teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek; truth be told, she didn't know what was going to happen, or what to expect during this impromptu interview.

The fact she had come was a sure sign of what she knew was going to happen; accepting a job shouldn't be so tedious, but Allie couldn't help the worry that was always lingering. She couldn't afford to be careless, or to let herself be reckless. Part of her was wondering why he was being so insistent on her taking the job, or why he even offered it to her in the first place. He must have a million and one applicants who were of the highest quality and vying for this job, so why her? Why be so focused on one person with no experience? Maybe it was because he really did admire her ability to break through her firewall, or maybe it was what she dreaded, what made her stomach knot, guts gripping and teeth threatening to break the thin, fragile skin of her cheek. She was a legal citizen, her parents were documented and had full citizenship, there was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that he could find inconsistent.

But what if he did?

If he did, then she wouldn't be here, wouldn't be going to a job interview for him. It was nothing but anxiety fuelled nonsense of her mind. She was safe, nothing could turn that around.

With a huff, Allie straightened her back, shaking her head and forcing all of those thoughts from her mind. Every time she worried about things like this, it always ended up to be nothing and all she would get was a headache in between her temples. She turned her gaze outwards, eyes turned upwards to the sky and picking apart the small patches of blue that peaked out from the grey; Lisa had tried to get her to wear contacts but Allie refused, recoiling at the thought of putting anything near her eyes. Since not wanting to ruin the make up she wore, she was forced to deal with her somewhat hazy eye sight, glasses locked firmly in their case at the bottom of her bag just in case of an emergency – meaning in case she got lost and couldn't read a sign.

Beneath the car, the ground melted from the not so smooth tarmac to that of gravel, crunching beneath the weight of wheels and Allie's heart leaped in her mouth, nearly bursting from her lips before she gulped, shifting in her seat to try and take in everything.

It was big, no doubt; the place seemed to stick out like a sore thumb against the back drop of New York City, the modernity of it unlike the simple red brick stone that the majority of the high rise buildings consisted off, shifting to more grey concrete in recent years after the damages done during The Incident meant that half of the city had to be rebuilt. There was endless green curving around a simple lane for drivers to crawl slowly towards the building, her taxi driver letting out a low whistle as she slowed, taking in the sight of the Compound. It simply screamed Stark all over it; she remembered the eye sore that was the old building where the Avengers had been situated, now all but abandoned by the team and deemed a tourist attraction, and Allie snorted quietly to herself when she saw that Stark hadn't abandoned the ever famous A that was plastered to the side.

To her surprise, she could see people milling about, leaving and entering the building in droves, alone or in hushed groups with no one paying much attention to the cab parked in front; Allie watched them, watched them move about and park their own cars for a day of work and looking much like the business people she would serve during the morning rush. But they didn't seem the type to work as accountants, and Allie found herself not really wanting to know what they did.

Allie remained in her seat for a moment, unsure if she wanted the driver to bring her back home or to just rip the band-aid off. Her hand rested on the handle, ignoring the sweat on her palm, a breath building itself brick by brick in her lung and ready to take that leap.

"Uh, miss?"

Allie turned to see the driver staring at her, gum popping in her mouth as she chewed, eyebrow tilted at Allie before Allie remembered she actually had to pay the woman for her service. With a slight burn in her cheeks, Allie paid the amount due, pulling on the car door handle and nearly shivering at the burst of cold air that rushed through.

"Thank you," she said, stepping out with wobbly knees and the ground grinding beneath her heels, bag slipped over her shoulder and resting against her hip before closing the door shut behind her, glad she had decided to take Lisa's offer up on taking the jacket with her, pulling it close around her as she made her way to the door. Behind her, the taxi coughed up dirt with its wheels and began pulling out, her last chance leaving at the same time.

Allie paused once more, looking at the large panes of glasses built into the side of the building, the doors constantly opening and closing as people went to enter and leave, no one casting eyes at her. Feeling like she was sticking out like a sore thumb by gaping up at the immense size of the place, Allie continued on her path, hand digging for her phone, rooting for the device that was buried at the bottom of her bag.

When she had been rudely awoken by her alarm this morning, she had grabbed a hold of her phone for her morning ritual of scrolling through social media but was shocked to see that she had a text message and from none other than Tony Stark; it was brief and short, a series of directions for when she came to the place and where he would be waiting for her. At first, Allie thought it wouldn't be that hard to find him, she could always ask someone, but now that she was here Allie felt positively indebted for Stark because from how quickly everyone was moving, and from how they were ignoring her, she felt like asking where to find Tony Stark would be impossible.

Pulling the text up, Allie paused in front of the door, turning and blindly following the instructions on her screen; she hadn't replied to him and she glanced to the time and winced when she saw that it was nearing eleven, despite her promise of being there by ten. Maybe he had thought she wasn't going to show and wasn't there? It hadn't been her fault, per say; the morning rush hour in the city was awful and Allie groaned at the thought of having to put up with it, having spent the last five years walking to work.

She was paid no heed as she continued to move about, almost making Allie frown; being the home base of the Avengers, she thought that there would be more security around to prevent any wanderers or strangers; then again, she didn't stick out as much as she thought she did as most seemed to favour black clothes without the strict rules of uniform. It felt freeing to no longer have to abide by such rules but it did come in handy whenever she spilled something and was rushed with relief at realising she hadn't ruined any of her own clothes.

Brushing her hair behind her ear, hooking it in place, Allie turned a corner as told, finding the place becoming less dense with people and crowds, barely anyone rushing about and it did little to ease the tension she felt; if she did make a wrong turn, what would she do then? She was already late as it is and Allie could feel the oncoming embarrassment of being an hour late to her own job interview; maybe it would nudge him into realising that Allie was most definitely not the right person for the job.

Still, she marched on.

As she ventured further and further into the Compound, Allie soon find herself being the only living soul in the area, all the hustle and bustle of life melting away, the rush of feet and shuffling of papers gone as her footsteps grew louder and louder as everything grew sparse. Pulling her gaze away from the screen of her phone, drinking in the sights of outside, views trapped from behind the thin pane of glass that Allie had an inkling wasn't as fragile as it appeared to be. Her bag bumped on her hip in time with her steps and her hair remained caught beneath the strap, strands being tugged gently each time she turned her head a new and different way to take in her surroundings; it was all sleek and monochrome colours, the ground so polished she could see her own warped reflection being thrown back at her.

Eleven came and went in moments and Allie found herself in a dead end, three elevators greeting her at the end of a hall; frowning, she unlocked her phone but found that Stark had failed to mention whatever ground he was on. Turning back to what lay before her, she grasped her bottom lip as she was prone to do and shuffled closer to the one straight in front of her, hoping to see if there was any indication of where she should go, but found nothing but a single button to call it, replicated on the other two that lay on either side of the middle one. Stepping back, Allie contemplated on what to do, checking the text message once more to see if she had missed something but found no new piece of information; she thought maybe to open one and see if there were any further indications of what lay on each ground but found that maybe it wasn't the best idea in case there might be someone inside it by the time she called it.

The best course of action would be to text Stark, or perhaps call him for help; sighing, she pulled up the message thread and opened the small box to type, realising she still had not saved his number to her phone contacts. As she began to finish her message, she was startled.

"Ms. Lawrence."

Jumping, a hoarse gasp tore through Allie's throat, hand going to clamp over her chest to ease her heart that had began to beat wildly beneath her ribs, making it feel that it might just burst free. Allie spun around, eyes wide and sucking in a deep breath, but found no one behind or beside her, yet the voice had sounded so near. Oh God, maybe the damned place was haunted or they had a ghost on the team and she was being preyed upon by it. Or perhaps she had finally gone crazy.

"What the hell?" she squawked, blinking and doing a full circle on the spot, trying to see if there was anyone trying to hide but found nothing, making her eyebrows furrow together in confusion. But she had been so sure that the voice was right beside her…

"My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y," spoke the voice and Allie turned wildly, head tilting upwards to where the voice was strongest and her mouth nearly dropped in realising that it was coming from above her. Were there cameras around her? Was there actually someone watching her right now, having already seen her fumble and feel lost? Her eyes tried to spy the cameras but found nothing gleaming, grumbling beneath her breath. "Mr. Stark is waiting for you in his workshop located in the south-west wing of the compound. You may take the opened elevator to your left."

At that moment, one of the elevators dinged, doors opening and Allie tried not to feel spooked, staring at it as if were a shark's mouth awaiting her. She kept her phone tight in her hand, in case it were a trap, but as she drew nearer, she found nothing strange about it, eyes darting about on the inside in case someone was hiding in the corners. Discovering nothing of the sort, Allie deemed it to be nothing more than a normal, ordinary elevator and straightened her spine, shaking her head and trying to believe any of this was real. She slipped her phone into the pocket of her jacket for an easier access rather than have it buried in the bottom of her bag as she took a step inside, taking notice of the bright, white walls and the fluorescent light on the ceiling, stainless steel handles on either side of the wall and the series of buttons near the door. Before she could press one, or decide on which one to press, the dulled ring around what Allie surmised was the bottom floor glowed red and the jaw of the elevator snapped shut, making her start from where she stood as she could feel the metal container drop, faster than what was normal.

There was a brief silence and Allie chewed on her words, glancing to the top corners of the elevator but found nothing.

"Uh… F.R.I.D.A.Y?" Allie asked the silence, feeling downright silly at doing so and doubting a reply.

"Yes, Ms. Lawrence?"

"You… you're not real, are you?" she questioned, though knowing the answer before an answer could begiven. She suspected that the voice was most likely not real nor did it belong to a human person, but it sounded as if it did, as if there really was someone somewhere with eyes glued to a monitor and watching her every movement. It was a familiar voice, one that made her nearly hope as if it was real.

"I am an artificial intelligence unit created by Tony Stark," responded the voice, not nearly as robotic as Allie would have imagined a voice that belonged to an A.I would sound; then again, all she had to go on was movies that pegged such things as being all evil and all calculating. "Though I have many uses, my general purpose is to protect Mr. Stark and the Avengers from any security breaches and threats, and I also help to keep track and log all and any relevant information of use for Mr. Stark."

"Oh. I see," Allie hummed, tapping her foot on the ground of the elevator, dipping her head down to look at the misshapen mess of her reflection that mirrored her every movement. At F.R.I.D.A.Y's words, a strange ache bloomed in Allie's heart, one she knew had prevailed for months during her first few months of being stranded in this country. Her voice sounded small, wispy at the edges as she spoke but tried not to let it get the best of her. She could remember what if felt like to be homesick and how it hurt, how it ate away at her and made her feel as empty as one could on the inside. Allie didn't want to think of those months she had spent feeling hollow like that, didn't want to remember the dark places her mind went to. "You… you sound Irish."

"It is how Mr. Stark programmed me."

"Ah, right," was all Allie said, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. She felt rather stupid talking to thin air without anyone beside her; then again, she owed F.R.I.D.A.Y for helping her out instead of just letting Allie flounder about, unsure of what she should do since she was now over an hour late to her job interview. "That makes sense, I guess."

There was no reply from the A.I and Allie heaved a breath, fingers reaching up to smooth down any flyaway strands that escaped from being hooked behind her ear, hands acting as a comb to sort through the tiny knots that accumulated before going to tug at the waist of her jeans, pulling them up and straightening her jacket and shirt; taking the mirror that sat on the top of the mess in her bag to check her reflection once more, Allie was finally pleased to find herself presentable and tucked the mirror away, taking breaths through her mouth and through her nose to ease the bubble apprehension in her, leg jittering from its place on the ground as she ignored the feeling of the sweat on her hands.

Then, the elevator slowed, stopped and the doors opened.

The view that greeted her was not something she expected for what her job interview to look like; half thinking that maybe a mistake was made, Allie took a tentative step from the elevator, looking around the mess that surrounded her. It looked like a morgue for computers, for cars, T.V's and all things in between; broken apart pieces of what were once Allie assumed to be weapons were strewn around on the floor, on table tops and piled in boxes; little natural light filtered into the place and whatever did manage to push itself through the small windows were soon drowned out by the bright, glowing white lights that were hard to look at with the naked eye.

The place looked to be, and was genuinely, a mess and Allie was half afraid to take a step further than what she had already taken for fear of stepping or tripping over something; the room was big, bigger than what she thought a workshop could be, and the chaos seemed to grow even less as her eyes trailed further into the room, taking sight of devices and other, miscellaneous objects that seemed more put together, none the same and each more varied than the last. Far towards the end, she could see doors, each made up of a different material and breaking off from the large space it was connected to. One was a glass door, through which she could spy what she could tell was a make shift kitchen, complete with counters and islands, more fancy than what she had in her own home and the place was filled with cups and plates, making her cringe at the sight. One of the doors was plain and looked to hold nothing special, while one was made up of steel, catching on the light and winking at her, clearly hiding something away that could not be easily accessed.

Hadn't F.R.I.D.A.Y said that Stark was waiting for her down here? Yet, as she continued her sweep of the place, she saw nothing of the man and began to doubt what the A.I had told her, wondering that maybe he had left without anyone noticing after thinking that Allie was not going to show up.

Allie trailed further into the workshop, watching her step and tip toeing through the mess, trying to catch sight of any movement that might give Stark away but saw nothing; then, her ears strained as she caught the soft voice of something, singing along to a melody she didn't know. Treading in the more cleaned up area of the place, Allie no longer had to watch her step as she craned her head around a small corner, finding it leading off into a different place that appeared to be where Stark worked the most. As she drew closer, she could hear the clanging of metal, the soft tinkering and screeching of nuts and bolts being tightened and her eyes flickered, before catching sight of a pair of legs stuck beneath a make of some old car Allie didn't bother trying to know.

Allie lingered for a moment, unsure of what to do as she shuffled on her feet, listening to the clanging and soft humming from beneath the car, chewing on her lip before she straightened her spine, readjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder; part of Allie thought to turn on her heel and leave but she was already there, so why not rip the bandage off? Allie gave a small, meek cough that went unnoticed to clear her throat before she spoke.

"Hello? Mr. Stark?" Allie called out and the humming stop, all tinkering ceasing as she watched Stark pull himself out from under the belly of the car, hair wild and unstyled with a smudge of what Allie assumed to be oil streaking across his cheek. His eyes flitted about before landing on her, eyebrow cocked at the sight of the younger woman, making her feel even more self-conscious and trying not to tug at her clothes.

"Ah, great! You're here!" Stark exclaimed, a boyish grin lighting up on his face as he pushed himself further away from beneath the car, dropping whatever tools that were in his hand beside him as he stood, looking rather worse for wear; it was then Allie really believed that he had been going nights without a proper sleep because he definitely looked like shit. His hair, which she had always seen to be perfectly styled, lay loose around him and Allie could see the ends curling, catching on his ears and his temple. He wore no suits, no perfect shirt, and there was a rag thrown over his shoulder, looking worse for wear; standing, Stark wiped his hands on his trousers, staining them even further and looking as if they were ready to be torn at any touch or movement. Allie couldn't help but feel as if she was the one overdressed for the interview and began feeling insecure at how much effort she had put into her appearance, not wanting to show up looking like a drowned rat as she had the last time they met. Stark paused in front of her, bringing his wrist up to glance at the watch that was strapped there, letting out a low whistle. "And you're only… an hour late."

Her ears felt warm and her cheeks pinked, though she hoped the makeup would show her not to be as red as her face would tend to be when blushing, blotches of red splattered across her nose and cheeks. A sheepish grin found its way on her lips as a breathy laugh left her. "Sorry, there was traffic."

"It's fine," Stark scoffed, waving her words off and walking past her, hand outstretched to let her lead the way back into the workshop, careful not to touch her for fear of staining her clothes. "It wasn't like I was waiting for you or anything."

"Really?" Allie asked, walking into the room once more, careful not to trip on anything and her eyebrow raised at Stark, watching him take the cloth resting on his shoulder to wipe his hands on, though Allie was pretty sure they just made the mess worse more than anything. "Because your A.I – I mean, F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you've been waiting for me."

"I… see," Stark blinked, pausing his actions at her words before he cast a not so subtle glare towards the ceiling, amusing Allie at the fact he was genuinely looking annoyed at the fact his A.I had sold him out. The glare came and went, lasting all of two seconds before Stark turned his gaze back to her, that boyish grin finding itself once more. Allie paused in her steps, unsure of where he was bringing her, or where she was supposed to lead him and Stark stopped too, leaning back slightly to take a chair tucked into a desk and spinning it free, placing himself down on it as he clapped his hands together. "Well, since you've already introduced yourself there's no point for me to do it. I think it's best we get straight to business, so please, take a seat."

He indicated to behind Allie, making her turn to see another free chair stuck under a desk and she rolled it free, briefly glancing over it to make sure there were no stains or messes on it that might ruin or clothes or seep into her jeans; she was beginning to feel glad that she had chosen black to be her choice of colour for the day. Sitting down, Allie slung the bag off of her shoulder, the strap resting on the back of the chair as she turned back once more to face Stark, the rather unprofessional setting for the interview not bothering her as much as it should have.

"That'd be great," Allie huffed, ignoring how the chair squeaked with every movement she made and how the cushions seemed lumpy against her back and beneath her thighs. To her utter embarrassment, the balls of her feet just about managed to grace the ground if she sat fully back into the chair, making Allie shift forward and linking her hands in front of her. "I don't want to drag this out."

A stifled gasp left Stark's parted mouth, hand clapping over his chest at her words, a look of shock and hurt on his face as she settled into the seat, staring deadpan at the man as he slumped in his position, going so far as to give a sniff. And she thought Lisa was prone to dramatics – this was an entirely new level for her. It was entertaining to watch, nonetheless; at least he actually wasn't taking her words to heart, even if she hadn't meant for them to be taken in a serious way. "Ouch, that isn't insulting at all."

"I didn't mean it like that," Allie insisted refraining from rolling her eyes as her jittery leg threatened to start its bouncing once more. She edged further upwards on her chair to cross her ankles, the chair swishing back and forth slightly at her movement before slowing. Stark clicked his tongue, letting his hand fall from his chest but there was still a curve on his mouth, brown eyes gleaming as Allie attempted to create at least a semblance of professionalism. So far, she had managed to insult her new potential more times than she could count on her hand, and that wasn't really what one should be aiming for when seeking out a new job. Just because Francis managed to put up with her, that didn't mean she knew Stark was going to do the same. "It's just, I've been thinking about this a lot over the past two weeks. And I want to just… put it to rest."

"Well, alright," Stark sighed, straightening himself and appearing more like the man who had found himself in her apartment all those weeks ago, albeit without the suits and clean face and not reeking of oil and a tinge of rust. Taking a hold of the edge of his seat, Stark rolled himself closer to her, so close that Allie could see that there was another smear of grease just arching above his left eyebrow, reaching up to disappear beneath his fallen fringe. The smell of rust grew and it nearly made Allie scrunch her nose up; beneath, there was a small trace of cologne lingering. Stark leant closer, an arm on his elbow and that grin gone from his face. "Here it is. You come work for me as my assistant. Get paid, generously I might add – and maybe I show you how to not be so… sloppy with your work."

Without her knowing, an offended gasp left Allie's lips, no longer bothering to keep her face neutral as her features twisted up; Stark seemed none too bothered by her reaction and Allie gave an affronted splutter, making it her time to feel inclined to indulge in being over the top. Stark didn't look too troubled at the fact he had insulted Allie, though she supposed she had slighted him enough times, however lightly, for him to do the same to her. A pout was threatening to form on her mouth as Allie frowned, deep rooted and setting creases in her skin.

"Sloppy? My work is sloppy?" Allie repeated in disbelief and the brief nod from Stark made Allie not even bother trying to hide the pout on her face, voice taking a whining tone as her arms found themselves wrapping over her chest, slumping back into her chair which sent her feet further from the ground. "You said I wasn't sloppy before! You said I was great!"

"I was trying to be nice, it was our first time meeting," Stark explained, slacking his spine and mimicking Allie's position in her seat, leaning back and throwing an arm over the back of his chair, the faint creases of laugh lines appearing along his eyes. He was getting a kick out of her reaction and it caused Allie to slum even further, seeming more and more like an upset child than acting like the adult woman she was. She glared at the fact his feet were able to touch the ground perfectly, stretched out in front of him and crossed. "Can't really be rude like that in someone else's home."

"If I remember correctly, you all but threatened me with jail time," Allie scoffed, not quite remembering their first meeting with any sort of fondness. All Allie did remember from their first encounter was her looking like a drowned rat, him doing exactly as she said and her trying to scream at herself that she had a brain and that it would be best if she started using it at any minute, along with using words with her mouth. She wasn't as so much star-struck as she was dumbfounded and reeling from the fact she had been caught out; it seemed that Stark was remembering his own words too and he pulled a face at the thought. "And I wasn't sloppy. Maybe the first time, yeah, but that's only because I wasn't sober."

A groan left him, elbow going to rest on a small, empty space on the table beside him as his hand partially covered his face, fingers resting over his eyes as he shook his head at her words, loose curls of his hair following the motion as he did so. "I honestly still cannot believe that you actually did that. Just cause me an aneurism by saying that."

"If I can get crack a firewall that you made, while drunk," Allie smirked, rather pleased with herself despite the fact that, up until two weeks ago, the fact she had done exactly that made her want nothing more than to find the deepest hole in the entire world and crawl inside of it, waiting for death to claim her. Now, she didn't feel like that so much anymore; Stark didn't seem so upset at the fact she had actually broken through his security more than the fact she had done it while completely inebriated. There was something like childish glee rearing its head in Allie as she, for the first time in a long time, took pride in her actions, in her ability to outmatch Stark. "Then I don't think I'm that bad."

Stark pulled his hand away from his eyes, looking at her through the cracks of his fingers before resting his cheek against his knuckles. The curtain of his fringe had fallen slightly, giving Allie the view of his forehead and she could not help but take notice of how the messy mop of curls, loose and untamed, made him look younger, less like a businessman. He gave a breathy laugh, the sound rushing past his lips as he shook his head once more, dismissing her words with a wave of his other hand. "Oh, no, not bad, I didn't say that. Just sloppy."

Allie scowled at the other man, nearly reverting once more back into her indignant self but refraining from doing. "I regret coming here."

"Don't be dramatic," Stark scoffed, smirking but without any harshness, more so looking as if he was being entertained by Allie and her reactions. He shifted in his chair once more, uncrossing his ankles to place either foot on the ground, moving his seat back and forth gently as his hands rested on his stomach, linked and back slouched. "It's called tough support."

"It's tough love, actually," Allie corrected, scrunching her nose, crinkles appearing at the corners of her nostrils and that boyish smile was on his face once more, laugh lines digging into along the curve of his eyes, along his cheek bones.

"See?" he laughed, as if he was pleased by her correction of him, hands unwinding from one another to hover towards her, arms outstretched and greased palms upwards. "I need someone to correct my idioms. I'm pretty sure I said 'walk a mile in someone else's socks' the other day and no one bothered to correct me. Imagine if I said that on live television."

Allie tiled her head, trying to rack her head for a small sliver of an article she had read so long ago on some trashy tabloids website. "I'm pretty sure you have at some time. How can you mess up something so simple?"

At her words, his eyebrows rose up further on his forehead, mouth opening once, twice and then a third time. "And you would know because…?"

"I'm not accepting this without a little knowledge beforehand," Allie replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"And by knowledge, you mean…?" Stark said, tone that same, slightly higher pitch while trailing off to prod her further on to further explain and continue. She was straight-faced, unsmiling.

"You, Mr. Stark."

"And by that, you mean…?"

This time Allie did not bother to stop herself from rolling her eyes, nor did she bother to quash smile on her face at his actions. Then her face pulled itself together, remember the amount of articles she had read that had been numerous about his behaviour in the past, many of which contained photos she most definitely did not want to see of her protentional boss because they were going to be forever burned into her brain whether she liked it or not – most likely the former rather than the latter. A shudder ran itself down her spine as she recalled some of the images her eyes had been forced to witness. "By that I mean that I think I've read just about enough articles about you being drunk and disorderly from the early 2000's to last me a life time."

"That was over ten years ago," Stark defended, pushing aside her words but Allie still had a hard time of removing the images and blocky, patchy videos that had been uploaded that were at the front of her mind. "I haven't stripped naked while drunk since 2005."

"2007, actually," Allie spluttered out before she could catch the words, making Stark look at her in surprise, that familiar pink frosting her cheeks as she dipped her head slightly. "You were at a Halloween party. It was… an eyeful."

That's putting it lightly; Allie really did not need to have those images at the forefront of her mind while she was actually speaking with Stark. Though, he didn't seem to be all too put out by the fact Allie had researched his not most finer days, appearing as if he was pleased at the fact she had seen what she could assume was the worst of him and had not turned tail and ran. It would take more than public nudity to make Allie turn on her heel and walk away from something; she had been through a lot worse.

"Lovely," he commented, not sounding as sarcastic as she thought he would. He was eyeing her, something in his stare that Allie pegged as to be some sort of respect – maybe at the fact she had seen him do all kinds of things and was still here, still applying for a job that could probably make her have her work cut out for her. While it did make Allie hesitate, that same old voice in the back of her head kept whispering about money, money, money and it was becoming harder to ignore. Not that Stark needed to know she was only in this for the money; let him assume whatever he wanted for all she cared. "I need someone with a stomach like yours if you're going to work for me."

"Which is still undecided," Allie stressed and he showed up his hands in compliance, nodding in agreement.

"Which is still undecided, yes," he repeated, slowly and sweetly with a gleam in his eyes as he spoke. Allie gave a huff, sinking lower into her seat so that the balls of her feet were resting against the ground, mimicking his movement of swishing her chair back and forth, ignoring the squeaks and creaks of it beneath her, the curtain of her hair threatening to slip from where it was hooked behind her ear. "But, really what's not to like?"

At that, Allie paused in her swishing of the chair, eyes flicking up to meet Stark's own, eyebrows darting up her forehead as she could not help herself from pulling a face at his words. Allie pulled herself up straighter, hands on either armrest beside her before she swept the falling strands of hair behind her ear and clapped her hands together, lacing the fingers and placing them in her hands.

"Well, there's still the fact you haven't told me what I'm going to do, what my daily tasks are, where I'm even going to work, how this is even going to work or what my job is other than assistant because that's very broad. Do I answer phone calls? Schedule appointments? Just sit around while looking pretty?"

Stark opened his mouth, lips parted before a thoughtful look flitted over his features, gazing off as if he was distracted by something, voice almost a murmur.

"Well, that last one – "

"Mr. Stark," Allie deadpanned and Stark laughed, displaying his grease riddled palms in a movement of preventing Allie making an outburst.

"Kidding, kidding," Stark joked and there was that twinkle in his eyes again, gleaming at her and she was less than amused, as that thoughtful look found itself on his face once more, though less so to tease her. A huff left him and his fingers were placed over his mouth, curving down over his chin as he clicked his tongue, reaching the other hand up to scratch at his jaw, the usually impeccably styled beard that was shadowed there not as in shape as Allie had seen it weeks ago. "Alright, well… I do need someone to keep atop of my calls and paperwork – especially the latter. I'm pretty sure I've just been shoving them into cupboards and I can't remember where I've been putting them. I've generally been using F.R.I.D.A.Y as my secretary but people don't really take kindly to talking to an A.I."

Allie mulled over his words, relaxing her position as she eyed Stark from the corner of her eye, as if waiting for him to spring something undesirable about the job on her; maybe the reason no one else had this job was because it was undesirable in itself. Though, as Stark spoke, Allie couldn't actually find anything wrong about it; she drank in his appearance once more, the oil stained clothes, his floppy, curling hair and the growing beard shadowing on his jaw, and how it seemed to scream the theory of him being a recluse at her. Hadn't Kyle said that Stark was avoiding the public eye? What could be the worst that could happen? Having people yell at her through the phone was the same as it was in the customer service industry and she had fought through years of that already, hardened to words and no longer prone to burst into tears if someone yelled at her.

Truth be told, the job was sounding more and more tempting by the second and it made her wonder why on earth the position wasn't filled; maybe, years ago, when Stark had been a handful in the eyes of the public, she would have turned it down flat. But he was older now, seemingly less inclined to indulge in public displays of nudity and from what he described it seemed that her job was almost too easy. Boring, maybe, but easy. Too easy.

"So…" Allie began after contemplating, eyes narrowed and teeth running over her teeth, processing Stark's words carefully. "Instead of having people yell at your A.I… you want people to yell at me?"

"Precisely!" Stark beamed with a nod of his head, Allie's eyes being unable to tear themselves away from the way the curls on his head moved along with the inclination, curving around his ears, down his neck. He didn't appear as uptight or frighteningly business-like as he did when he had been in her apartment, in her home. She actually felt comfortable around him, felt comfortable talking to him – mainly due to the fact he wasn't threatening her with jail time. "Except, no. We'll wire any incoming calls that F.R.I would usually respond to, to your phone instead. You'll deal with any and all kind of people. If there's something concerning the Avengers or anything of the sort – and you'll know when it is – then you may discuss with me. Anything other than that, it's a complete no go. You'll be kept busy all day, if that's what you're looking for."

Stark finished his explanation, a pause forming between them as the two waited for Allie to say her piece, to possibly decline, accept or remain indecisive. Her teeth chewed on the inside of her cheek, brow knotting and furrowing as she pondered on his words, giving a small hum as he stared, seeming impatient for Allie to find her voice and say something, anything. Then again, he had been waiting for two weeks for her to call and she had torturously dragged it out for him and yet, she still was not satisfied.

"That's it?" she asked, and once more he nodded, serious.

"That's it," Stark confirmed.

"And…" Allie trailed off, thumbs finding each other and moving around each other, twiddling as her feet moved the chair back and forth slightly, as if making her appear shy. "What's this about "teaching" me some things?"

"I know I said you were sloppy with your work – "

"And you were wrong."

"And I wasn't wrong," he insisted but it wasn't done spitefully, nor did it sound too mean. Tough support, as Stark had wrongly put it. Allie scowled at his words and Stark gave a shrug, as if to say what can you do? The words not insult me nearly spilled past her lips but then she was reminded by the fact that she had done just that to Stark enough times, playful banter or not. "You're good, but if you were really good, F.R.I.D.A.Y wouldn't have been able to catch your scent twice."

"Wait…" Allie spluttered, wide-eyed as she stared at him, mouth agape with shock. "You knew that I did it the first time?"

"I knew there was a breach," he said nonchalantly as if it didn't even mean much to him. Hadn't he told her that he had believed it to be a miscalculation, an error in the system? If Allie had had any inkling that Stark was already onto her scent, she would never, ever had done as Lisa asked. How on Earth did he know that she had broken through, why not trace her the first time? "But you were gone before your location could be pinned down. We managed this time because you used the same accessory. Not really a smart idea, that."

Well. That made sense.

"Oh. Right."

"I got your phone number and managed to get all I could from that," Stark further explained, as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather. Sometimes, it bothered her how indifferent he sounded, as if there was much in life that did not bother him, did not stir a reaction from him; there was a sigh lingering beneath his words and his hand cupped his jaw, fingers tapping against his cheek. "You used it as a crutch and it's best to learn how to walk on your own two feet."

"So, you're saying I'm not only sloppy, but I'm also crippled?" Allie hissed, affronted by his words and once more, Stark gave a lift of his shoulders but she could see the curve on his lips, smiling at her being offended by what he had said.

"You're the one who said it, not me," he replied, voice almost a sing-song before it once more took on a serious tone, matching the situation and making it less like a quick chat between two acquaintances and more like a job interview. Allie was losing track of how many times they had diverted off track, trailed away from the true reason of their conversation; she didn't know what was worse: the fact it kept happening, or the fact it was far too easy to branch off from what they were intending to talk about. "There's not many people who are as good as me. I mean, you're still nowhere near my level, but you could be. One day. In the very far future."

"Are you always such a brag, or is it only just with me?" she scoffed at him.

"Only you, dear," Stark winked at Allie, a sigh hanging on the end of the last word. She might have bristled had it been like their first meeting, but it only elicited a roll of the eyes from Allie, a small warmth creeping up from beneath the collar of her shirt. It was like the banter that would be tossed back and forth between her and Francis, one waiting for the other to break first and cringe from overly doing it in a game of trying to out woo; she had always been one to never take such joking too seriously. "So, I guess you'd become assistant and my protégé? It's quite a win-win situation."

Confusion etched itself into Allie's eyes, nose scrunched up as she gave a small shake of the head, strands of her hair swishing at the movement and tickling her neck, her jaw. "I… I don't see how it is."

"Well, one win because you get a job doing something than pouring coffee – "

"It's not just coffee, you know," Allie interjected without thought. "There are other drinks that exist beside coffee."

"Not for me there isn't; coffee is the mistress of my heart," Stark sighed longingly, as if the words were about a women and not a drink, his heart pining for an actual living being and not a drink. "And the second win is that you don't get to go for jail for breaking into high security."

"But I didn't mean to!" she spluttered, and he gave a sweet smile, chuckling at her frustrated reaction.

"I'm sure the judge won't agree."

"So, my only options are work for you or jail?" Allie spat, rather upset at the ultimatum that seemed rather too unfair for her liking. Stark paused for a moment, once more mulling over her words as he pulled the corners of his lips down, head moving back on forth as though weighing the two options that lay before Allie against each other before nodding, satisfied with whatever conclusion he had come up with, turning back to her.

"Basically, yeah."

They stared at one another, Allie glaring and Stark smiling as she pursed her lips, becoming more and more frustrated by the man in front of her. Every time he seemed almost to be likeable, he pulled the rug from under her and started laughing at her when her face met the ground. A huff pushed itself through her lips, a small raspberry sounding before she reached behind her to take the strap of her bag, going to strand. "Alright, see you in court."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Stark cried, rolling his chair closer and hands planting on either side of her armrests to keep her from leaving; trapped, Allie fell back into the chair, glowering at Stark but not with as much bitterness or venom as she intended to be projected into the stare. Pleased that she had elected to stay, Stark pulled his hands back and held up a finger, as if asking for a moment more of her time. "I have one more thing that'll change your mind."

"I swear to God, Mr. Stark, if you talk about the dental one more time – " Allie groaned, watching Stark roll away from her, his knees briefly knocked gently against hers before he reached the desk, hands sorting through the mess that lay on the table top, the chaos being something only he could understand. Stark chortled, cutting Allie off as he continued to search for… well, whatever he was searching for. Allie could barely name anything that lay on top of the table.

"Oh, no, that was a lie. We don't even have dental, here. This is something else."

His words made her eyes narrow towards him, trying to make sense of his movements but coming up with nothing; Stark gave a small sound of delight, glee at having found what he was searching for – a small pad of sticky notes, the size greatly reduced from how many had been peeled off. Allie cocked her eyebrow at him, still unsure at what he was doing before she watched him roll further away to the wall opposite them, wheels of the chair scraping against the ground; Stark flicked through the small working shelve that was nailed to the wall at a low enough height that he did not have to stand up to see what was on it, though Allie suspected he could sort through the mess as he knew it like the back of her hand. Finally, a pen was produced and Stark ripped the cap off with his mouth, balancing it between his teeth as he scribbled on the small square of paper; Allie, exasperated, was unable to take any more and finally broke.

"What? What are you doing?" she asked but a series of hushes quickly and effectively cut her off, the cap of the pen being taken from his mouth and placed it between his fingers, twiddling it as he continued to write on the sticky note square, a smirk on his lips.

"Shh, shh. Don't disturb me when I'm focusing," he said, turning his eyes from the sticky note and beaming at Allie, reaching behind to throw the cap back on the work shelf, not caring to look back and see where it landed before tucking the pen behind his ear. Stark held the pad close his chest, away from Allie's prying eyes as he began to scoot back towards Allie, that shit eating grin on his face growing larger and larger, as he waggled a finger at Allie as if to reprimand her, making Allie more distrustful by the passing second. "That kind of work ethic is unprofessional."

She bit down on her tongue, preventing it from saying what she really wanted to say before she forced a fake smile onto her lips, one that had been there for years and was usually accompanied by Hi! How can I help you today? In a fake, sickly sweet voice; Allie once more adopted her customer service voice, speaking through her teeth. "What are you doing, sir?"

"Nice touch," he complimented before thrusting the pad out towards her, toothy smile as wide as it could get as an excitement took over him, knee beginning to bounce as Stark sat once more in front of her. "And I'm showing you your wage."

"Showing me? Can't you just, you know, tell me with your mouth, with words, like a normal person would?" She said in disbelief, not yet reaching out to take the pad in her hands, not quite trusting his words and Stark rolled his eyes at her, making Allie think that if either of them did that in response to the other anymore, they would have to start paying pennies from the amount of times they were reduced to doing so.

"I could but that's not nearly as dramatic. Haven't you ever watched a movie?"

"No. I was raised in a secluded household where we were only allowed to read the bible every single day."

"That explains your lack of humour," He muttered and Allie gave an indignant cry of defence but he ignored her, thrusting the pad out towards her once more, impatient for her to take it. "Anyway, here you go."

"Listen, Mr. Stark," Allie sighed, finally taking a hold of it in her hand, shaking her head and eyes cast down. "I really don't think money is what's going to – "

Allie eyes found the numbers on the small, luminous orange page and a choking sound left her, words caught in her throat and voice unable to force itself through her closed throat, her free hand reaching up to place itself over her lips, clapping over her mouth to prevent another squeak leaving her. She couldn't blink, breath, believe what was in front of her, the numbers that seemed to be the most she had ever seen in her life, the highest number possible she could think off. Her core was rattled, shook and even the little green goblin in the back of her mind that always seem to chant money, money, money seemed stunned, dazed by how many zeroes there were and ready to collapse as Allie was.

He couldn't be serious, he really and truly could not be actually thinking in paying this amount of money for her to come work for him as his assistant. Her mind could scarcely believe what was in front of her in writing, shaken by the figure. No, this had to be a joke; no one in the right might would even think about paying this amount for an assistant – and an untrained, inexperienced one at that. Stark's eyes were gleaming, catching on the light at her stunned reaction and she barely took note of how he moved his chair to place it side by side with hers, looking at what he had written too, not bothering to quash the teasing smile on his lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest, mind reeling and thoughts sorting themselves into incomprehensible constellations that no man hath fathomed.

"You were saying?" his voice was light, mischievous as he spoke, all too delighted by her silence, her shock at what he said. Allie swallowed roughly, an audible gulp as her hands moved away from her lips, eyes watering from how long she had not bothered to blink. Her mouth parted, a shaky breath tearing itself through her, sharp and cutting as she forced her gaze to meet Stark's, wavering and waiting for him to laugh at her, to mock her and say it was just a joke.

"Are you… is this for real?" Allie whispered, gentle and unable to go any louder. This had to be a joke, it just had to be from the way he was looking at her. The paper was held tightly in her grip, firmly grasped as afraid it might turn to dust as she brought it in closer, not wanting any sort of breeze to rib it from her. "I make this, in a year?"

"Yes, that's – oh, wait," Stark began, flicking his eyes towards the paper before cutting himself out, looking displeased with the numbers and he reached out, taking it from Allie's hand, the young woman not bothering to put up a fight from how shell shocked she was, grip slackening as Stark took the pen from behind his ear and, to Allie's complete and utter surprise, added another number alongside the already long sequence, giving her a friendly and soft smile and holding it back out for her to take a hold of again. "I missed a digit. There you go."

"Oh my god," Allie croaked, hands shaking as she took it in her hand once more, trying to make sense of the situation. This had to be some sort of cruel joke he was playing with her, it just had to be. Her palms were slick with sweat, eyes blinking fast to dispel the mistiness in them, heart thudding and pounding far too loudly in her chest for her liking. Allie's free hand found its way on her forehead, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, bumping against Stark's. "I'm going to have a heart attack."

"Try not to die," Stark comforted, giving Allie a consoling pat on the shoulder twice, as if he was already mourning her death. "The janitor doesn't come down here to clean and I don't want to drag you upstairs."

"You're… you're being serious? Like, seriously?" Allie burst out, pulling her forehead away from her hand and ready to grip Stark by the neck of the shirt, wanting to shake him to see if any sort of common sense would fall loose. She leaned in close, trying to find any hint that he was only joking but sound nothing.

"Being seriously serious?" He repeated, blinking at the strange use of words with a small chuckle. "Yes, I am. That's how badly in need of an assistant I am."

Stark reached over, tapping the page with his index finger and leaving a smudge on the orange page, streaking across the middle number, hoping to drive his point home. She hadn't known he was this desperate; he was willing to pay this amount for her to work for him, why not pay someone the same who would actually be competent at their work? Her mind still couldn't wrap itself around the entire situation and Allie slumped in her chair, moving away from being so close to Stark to drag in a deep breath into her chest, trying to find some breathing space to think.

"I… I need a moment."

"Of course. You want a glass of water?"

"No, thanks – "

"Too late," he interjected, already moving to stand up before she could finish, giving a wave over his shoulder as he did so. "I'm already up."

Allie's eyes stuck to Stark as she watched him go before she peeled her gaze away, looking to the small sticky note and still stunned to see that it was still there, that it was written in ink paper, stone evidence of a promise of money and more – being independent, of being able to actually support herself alone. The sound of his footsteps grew weaker and weaker, echoing on the walls of the workshop and in Allie's mind. Part of her was unable to believe Stark was a sane man – no one could be if they were willing to give another person so much money to work for them in a job that they had no area of experience in. Had it been Lisa that was being offered the job, a person who had actually worked as an assistant and knew what to do, it would have made more sense – but it wasn't Lisa, it was Allie; Allie who had spent most of her life pouring drinks and serving dishes, Allie who could barely organise her own life as it was, Allie who was probably just as much of a mess as Stark was, perhaps even more.

Despite the fact Allie was nearly one hundred percent sure that Stark was completely insane, she knew that she would be even more insane to not accept. With this amount of money, she could do anything, go anywhere; her plan of only working for him for a year was becoming more and more plausible, more realistic. Allie chewed on her bottom lip, ignoring the pain behind her eyes from not wearing her glasses for such a long period of time as she began to finally come to, the sounds of Stark's footsteps like the flicking of a switch, putting an end to her indecisiveness. Her eyes glanced up, tearing away from the studying of his scribbling to see him clutching a glass in one hand, water sloshing about slightly as he placed it down beside her with a clink, taking his seat once more beside her

"Here you go."

"Thank you," Allie choked out, taking it in her hand and ignoring the feeling of a thin film of grease sticking to the pads of her fingers, chugging down the drink to soothe her parched throat, Stark watching her with some level of amazement as she finished the drink as soon as she had picked it up, placing it back down beside her with a loud thud, not feeling all too embarrassed by her behaviour as Stark gave a whistle of admiration before speaking.

"So, since you've done having a seizure," he spoke, teasing Allie but she didn't find herself minding that much. She was pretty sure he could tell her to scrub the floors and she would gladly do so for this amount of money. "What do you say Ms. 'I'm not controlled by money even though this is a capitalist society'?"

"I didn't say I wasn't controlled by money," Allie insisted, ignoring the little goblin in the back of her mind that snorted as if disagreeing with her words. Hadn't the reason she came here been money? Wasn't the reason she was going to accept because of money? "Just that, it'll take more than money to make me accept."

"What about my charming personality?" Stark joked, that boyish smile curving on his lips and Allie gave him a sweet one in return, patting his arm as he had done to her earlier, giving him a brief, reassuring two pats on the arm before throwing him a playful smile.

"As soon as you find it, sure."

"Okay, ow," he sniffed, pretending to wipe away a faux tear at the corner of his eye. "That hurt my pride."

"Surprised you still have that, too," she replied, the memory of all those editorials and exposés swimming to the forefront of her mind, nearly making her scrunch her nose up at all those images that were going to be forever burned into her mind. "I've read enough articles that should have bruised that by now."

"Being one out of the two most amazing and brilliant people in the world helps a lot," Stark sighed dreamily, giving a light of his shoulders as she tossed him a confused look.

"'One out of the two'? Well, who's the other?"

"Why," Stark beamed, showing off his perfectly straight and white teeth. "None other than you of course!"

"Then sorry to break it to you, but that make us both the most unamazing and lame people in the world."

"Self-deprecating humour, I like it. Tear yourself down to take me down, an old classic," he grinned, nodding along to his words but Allie scarcely heard them, staring at Stark with such star-struck eyes, as if she was finally seeing him as he was: a hero. Not because he had saved the world, oh no, but because he had saved her from being a poor barista for the rest of her life. He angled himself towards her, turning his chair and awaiting her answer. "So, Ms. Lawrence – now that we've had quite the productive conversation, I believe I am in need of an answer? Or do I need to add more zeroes to that?"

"No! No, you don't, I'm…" Allie exclaimed, standing so suddenly that the chair hit the back of knees, the impact sending it skirting back behind her until it bumped into the lip of the desk gently; Allie's eyes were wide, wild and her hands hovered over her chest, gripping onto the sticky note so ferociously that she thought it might break beneath her fist. Stark blinked at her sudden movement, leaning back into his chair as Allie tried to find the words, the right ones, to say to him, tongue rushing over her lips before she gave her head a nod, hair shaking around her at her doing so. "I accept, Mr. Stark. I'll come work as your assistant."

"Great!" Stark said, nearly giving a laugh as a smile found its way onto his lips, hands clapping together and palms rushing up and down before turning away from her and into the desk, beginning to shove away the junk that lay in scattered pieces around him in order to sort through the nonsensical chaos strewn around. "Your first job is to make me some coffee; it's nearly 12 and I haven't had any this morning."

"I regret this already," Allie muttered to herself, narrowing her eyes at him, tiny pinpricks as she felt whatever ecstatic feeling that had flooding through her moments before drip away, leaving her unamused and unimpressed by Stark and his words. Ass. She kept her voice low in hoping that he wouldn't hear as she turned to do exactly as he had asked her to do.

"What was that?" he snapped though without much bite, spinning in his chair and giving her a mock glare, making Allie pause in her steps and straighten her spine, forcing a sweet grin on her face, fist clenching around the small paper in her, the small promise of bigger things for the future.

"Nothing, Mr. Stark. Your coffee's coming, Mr. Stark," Allie sighed but there was a genuine smile on her lips, a whisper in her head telling her she could do this.

It was only for a year, and what was a year for the rest of her life?

It wasn't like anything could happen in such a small space of time.

Right?


Hello, hello! Just before I get into my A/N i'd like to answer a few of your reviews!


pinkeye: Thank you! I'm so glad that you enjoyed my last chapter and have enjoyed my story so far! I love receiving so much positive feedback from my readers!

AgainstTheMotion: thank you so much for dropping a review! really, it means so much to me to know that you're enjoying and loving this story as it continues on! i hope that I continue to impress with my future chapters! As for where this story is going... well, it's going to cause a lot of tears, a lot of broken hearts and a lot of shock!

PrincessMagic: thank you! I feel much better compared to last week and i'm so glad that my flu went away because if im going to be honest, I don't remember what i wrote last chapter and i'm so bad at editing and reviewing a chapter, so Yikes. Thank you for always reviewing and giving me support!

eden: i honestly couldn't stop smiling when i woke up to your review! It made my whole day! I tried to make Allie a separate entity from myself but I just realised... how i'm projecting a lot of myself onto her haha. Mostly because we're both irish and we're both very small (my fellow under 5'1"peeps where you at). I loved writing from Tony's P.O.V and I will continue to do so, but I didn't want to constantly shift between the two because: a) in the end, it's a story about Allie, b) i wanted to leave a few surprises for when we do check back in with Tony and c) because Tony is a canon character, there are many interpretations of him and I didn't want to force my interpretation on my readers, but I'm glad to know that I've managed to do him justice! Tony is my all time favourite character and has been since i was 8 and saw the first Iron Man movie. As for their relationship... well, as Allie said, it isn't like anything can happen in such a small space of time. But, really, I wanted to give Tony a friend he can rely on and I wanted to give Allie someone she can finally trust besides Lisa, and who knows where that road might lead them? ([me at me] PLEASE STOP GIVING EVERYTHING AWAY)


Anyways, thank you all for reviewing this (unedited and unreviewed sorry) and I look forward to writing future chapters as I hope you look forward to reading them.

Thanks for reading!