When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

Author's Note: Ready for the fireworks?

I decided to get this chapter up for you as a sort of apology for making you wait for the updates a while back, as well as for having a confusing setup with no breaks or indications of breaks between the scenes. So now, here's the third chapter in a week for your entertainment. I'm writing Chapter 11 and editing chapters 8 & 9. For whatever reason, I've just had the inspiration to finish this story and get it written, which is no bad thing. I hope that it'll be finished within the next two months at the latest.

Thank you for all your views and reviews!

Chapter Eight

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Rhodey was facing two such women. Pepper had been openly mocked by a drunken Tony, and Becka had been mocked merely by Tony being completely and utterly inebriated at a party that she had helped him plan with his promise that he wouldn't have more than two celebratory drinks so that they could enjoy the revelry until the last drunk socialite had been carted off.

But at least he hadn't mentioned anything regarding the private details of the year before.

She was aware of Rhodey walking in and standing beside herself and Pepper, then Pepper going to try to shut down the party, Tony sniping Pep down, and Rhodey disappearing. Looking to her right, she caught Natalie's gaze as the other woman put the phone away. As Pepper moved off to fume in silence elsewhere, Becka glided over to the kitchen and snarled, "What the hell happened?"

"I thought that he was going to go along with the suggestion that he should be with you, but apparently—"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the most beautiful woman in the world . . . my fiancé, Rebeckah almost-Stark."

Startled by her name over the speakers, frozen for but a moment, Becka sent her mind into a place where she could deal with him later, once he was sober. Demands would be made, and come hell or high water, Tony would either hold to his promises, or he would have to find someone else. She smiled as she turned gracefully, leaving Natalie to her own devices as she walked more into the room's view. Tony was singing her praises, just gushing to the crowd of how influential she had been in his life, and how he didn't want to live his life without her.

Half of the crowd was melting in the adoration, the other half were getting bored.

And if Tony knew how to do something, it was how to rile up a crowd. Someone began moving a bottle back and forth, as if tempting him. He was watching it while finishing his speech in honor of her, which she really was sure he meant to say while sober. He finished his sentence, then continued to watch the bottle wave back and forth just that bit more while making a few comments and a complete fool out of himself.

This . . . was not good.

The bottle was tossed, and Tony, being the showman that he was, couldn't resist blasting it into a million pieces using his repulsors.

Looking around, seeing Rhodes' face fall into his battle-ready expression, knowing that look from when he brought her to the hospital, Becka backed her way into the kitchen, seemingly already forgotten by the man she may or may not marry, depending upon his apology and actions in the near future. Turning around, she found herself facing Natalie again, but this time, the woman's face meant business. She handed her a card. "Change and get out of here. Meet us by this address."

"I'll change at my apartment, and I know that you're fully aware where I live. When will I meet you there?" She read the card, glad that she had driven to the Stark residence earlier this evening.

"Three hours at the latest unless we come to you before then." Her heart moving with compassion for the woman, Natalie put her hand upon her shoulder. "You're not alone in this. You have Pepper, Happy and Rhodey, and you have the support of the foundation that I'm employed by. Now you need to leave while this situation is brought under control."

Nodding, silently walking down into the lab/workshop, Rebeckah found herself staring at another man in a suit. "R-Rhodey?"

"I'm shutting this down. Don't stop me."

"I'm not going to stop you," she replied, walking past him and to her car, having left her purse where it wouldn't be stolen or rifled through: down here, protected by Jarvis. "But I'm going to require one thing of you."

Hearing her tone, turning to look at her after getting a brief walkthrough by Jarvis of how to use the suit, Rhodey made eye-contact over the roof of the Mustang convertible as she opened the door. She meant business. "Leave enough of him behind for me to finish off."

"Where are you going?"

"To my apartment, then out. I need to take a drive. I have my cell with me if you need to contact me. It's programmed into the system powering your suit."

Nodding, Rhodey turned away. Hearing the formidable Saleen engine start, he looked upwards. Time to crash the party.

Walking out of her shower wrapped in only a towel, it shocked her only slightly when Becka saw Natalie and an unknown man waiting for her. Sparing them only a blank look, she walked into her bedroom with a muttered, "Be right out."

"Wear something comfortable," Natalie said briskly. "Something that you can work on mechanics in and not worry about getting dirty."

"What are you planning on having me do?" she replied through the door, cursing how fabric and damp skin would inevitably always find a way to make dressing difficult.

"We need you to help us get Tony into a state of mind."

"What state of mind?" Now for the jeans . . . ones that fit loosely, comfortably, and were her usual grease- and oil-stained jeans that she would wear when working on the cars with Tony. Pulling an old, friendly t-shirt over her head, she grabbed a pair of comfortable socks and opened her closet door to look for some shoes or her boots . . .

Her boots.

Picking up the pair that rested behind all the rest of her shoes, out of sight but never out of mind, Becka opened the bedroom door and looked at the duo watching her as she moved closer.

The man spoke. "We need him to work. Because without him working, he's not going to die. He'll figure out what needs to be done to keep himself alive."

It all became blindingly clear. "You want to recreate the isolation that we had been in while we were prisoners in Afghanistan."

"That's putting it bluntly, but that's essentially what we're going for." The tall bald man nodded. "My name's Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. Natasha Romanoff is one of our agents, and she's been imbedded in Stark Industries for the last six months."

"So why are you here, and not taking care of the party on the other side of Malibu?" Sitting on her couch to put on the boots she had retrieved from her room, Becka didn't even have to look down to lace them up over the expensive but worth-the-money hiking socks. They would breathe very well in the Malibu weather under the worn and well-used army surplus combat boots that she'd used for many years.

"Because your friend from the Air Force already shut it down and flew off, literally. Tony is aware, but hasn't moved in fifteen minutes, and we'll be tracking all his movements once he starts moving again. He's moved his extremities, so he's not broken, possibly just thinking or trying to sober up a little." He shoved his hands into his pockets, watching the way that this young woman moved. There was a purpose in each movement, a weighted manner that indicated that she thought on very deep levels. "You have a problem with that?"

She took her time in answering, which was another indicator to Fury that they had done right by trying to ask for her help. "No, I don't have a problem with this. It's something that was bound to happen sooner or later."

"You're mad at him?"

Standing and shoving her hands into her back pockets of the jeans, Becka sighed and measured her emotions. "No, I'm more disappointed by his actions and his decisions rather than angry. Being angry with him will get neither of us anywhere, and it won't help him live. Disappointment is a better motivator. I still love him, and I want him to be alive, no matter the personal cost."

Fury wondered if she was going to sing the same tune once she saw what became of Casa Stark.

"I'm going to kill him. Slowly."

Agent Coulson stared at the young woman, nonplussed at her snarl as she slammed the Mustang's door, shoved keys into her pocket, and walked past the police tape and past him. He turned and watched her take in the damage before pulling her cell phone out and calling someone.

"Hey. It's me. . . . I'm fine, please don't worry. I'm looking at the damage to the house right now . . . Right. . . . Right. . . . All right, well, I just wanted to reassure you that I was fine after everything went down last night. I'll see you soon." Turning her phone off and shoving it into her back-right pocket, she continue to take in the view. "Agent Coulson."

"Yes, Miss Fahey?"

"Just call me Becka, please. We've been through this before. 'Miss Fahey' makes me sound like I'm some sort of stuffy white-lace Irishwoman." Not waiting for him to reply, she continued and began walking around part of the driveway to see if any more damage was visible from the outside. "I was told that you're going to be playing babysitter by Director Fury."

"I am."

"So. He said I can ask you myself why I believe that any of this will work and you'll be able to help Tony focus on what he has to do." Turning her formidable glare upon him, she waited for his answer.

Coulson, having met her once before while she had been calm and exhausted, hadn't known how ferocious she truly was when riled, nor was he aware of the full force of personality that emanated from her gaze when she was completely awake. Those details had been left out of the brief phone call he had received in regards to her current state of mind when Fury was off following Tony's movements. It was almost enough to crack his calm exterior. If this was her at an intense moment, he really didn't want to have her angry at him. Ever. So, taking a deep breath, he told her what he was going to do to ensure that Mr Stark remained upon the premises.

And he was relieved when she laughed and moved her car out of sight, walking into the house with a snicker and a grin.

He let himself smile as he resumed his post. No wonder Tony had been on his best behavior. This woman was an absolute gem, and when she wasn't mad, she seemed like she would be a pretty easy person to be around. Coulson was reassured at this revelation, as he hadn't wanted to bring a civilian into the mix of things.

But this woman? She was close enough to being "one of them" thanks to some twist of fate that he would have her full cooperation while they took care of this problem.

He heard her yelling curses as she found the kitchen, and his smile stretched into a smirk.

Yes, she was going to be quite useful indeed.

Rebeckah was there to watch Tony fly in from his ruined bedroom. She heard Coulson greet Natalie/Natasha and Director Fury before asking Jarvis, "Is everything ready?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for taking my call this morning."

"In light of the current situation, it seemed to be the wisest action to follow whatever lead you were taking, as Mr Stark had showcased—"

"I know, Jarvis, I'm aware. And I know that you've been worried. We're going to make this right again, and we'll need your help this time."

"I'm not a child and I don't need to be reassured. My logic and calculations—"

"Jarvis," Rebeckah said with a smile as she walked out of the room, skirting the hole in the floor carefully, "you're still a little one to me, despite your intellect and insight. We're going to take care of all this."

By the time she was standing in the far doorway of the kitchen, Fury was already in a chair, watching the water. "This is quite the crib. I like the open design, but it won't meet health code standards."

"I'm already redesigning it," she replied, smiling as he turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "How'd he take it?"

"I didn't tell him the details, but he's aware that it's going to be an interesting run."

"Good. Did the lithium dioxide do the trick as you said it would?"

"Yes." He was about to say more when Becka ducked back into the second doorway, just in time to not be seen by Tony as he walked into the ruined space and sat down with a sigh, running his hands through his hair and looking as if he had several weights settled upon his shoulders. So Fury went right into the lecture. "That thing in your chest is based off of unfinished technology."

Watching from the shadowed sidelines, the young woman gauged Tony's reaction of denial before he replied, "No, it was finished. It hadn't been particularly effective until I miniaturized it and put it into my chest."

"No," Fury replied in the same tones that a teacher would use to gently correct a misinformed student. "Howard said that the arc reactor was a stepping stone to something greater. He was going to kick off an energy race that was going to dwarf the arms race. He was onto something big, something so big that it was going to make the nuclear reactor look like a triple-A battery."

"Just him?" Tony asked as he began to pour himself some water. He had moved in such a way that his face was hidden from view, but his voice was sharp, accusatory. "Or was Anton Venko in on this, too."

Fury didn't rise to the bait, and continued on in his same path of informing the uninformed. "Anton Venko is the other side of that coin. Anton saw it as a way to get rich. When your father found out about that, he had him deported. When the Russians found out that he couldn't deliver, they shipped his ass off to Siberia and he spent the next twenty years in a vodka-fueled rage. Not quite the environment you wanna raise a kid in. The son you had the misfortune of crossing paths with in Monaco."

Tony changed the subject as the mention of Anton Venko's son. The words Ivan had said echoed in his mind. "You told me I hadn't tried everything. What do you mean, I haven't tried everything? What haven't I tried?"

Fury looked away, still relaxed and lounging in the deck chair. "He said that you were the only one with the means and the knowledge to finish what he started."

"He said that." Tony didn't sound like he believed that, and Becka didn't blame him. She knew just a fraction of the fractured relationship Tony had experienced with his father as a boy.

"Mm-hm. Are you that guy?" Sitting up and leaning forward, his entire movements and posture humming with intensity, Fury all but demanded, "Hm? Are you? 'Cause if you are . . . you can solve the riddle of your heart."

Silence met the statement, and the eavesdropper wished that she could see the expression upon Tony's face. She felt like she was missing a full half of the conversation because she couldn't read his expressions.

When he shook his head and spoke, however, she realized that she had underestimated and in her err, forgotten about the emotion that he always carried in his voice. "I dunno where you're getting your information from, but uh, he wasn't my biggest fan."

And Fury wasn't about to take a pity-party Stark. "What d'you remember about your dad, huh?"

Tony's words and sentences ran together when he responded. "He was cold, he was calculating, he never told me he loved me, he never even told me he liked me. So it's a little tough for me to digest when you're telling me he said the whole future was riding on me and he's passing it down. I don't get that." Settling back, he half-muttered, "We're talking about a guy whose happiest day was when he shipped me off to boarding school."

Wincing, but glad that she could see Fury's face as he witnessed the miniscule-meltdown from the hung-over genius, Becky watched the conversation continue to play out. Fury's face was a study of calm denial, and this time, in the good way. It was as if he was stating a fact. "That's not true."

"Well, clearly you know my dad better than I did." Tony replied snarkily.

Aaand Fury was done with the conversation, not even baited. "As a matter of fact, I did. He was one of the founding members of SHIELD."

"Wait, what?"

Standing to his feet and putting his empty cup down, Director Fury said, "I've got a two-o-clock."

Smiling and turning away to get to her place, Becky knew what was going to happen next. Fury would leave, Tony would try to beg for a little leniency, and would get shut down by the blunt and unyielding retort from Agent Coulson in regards to Tony trying to weave his way around the rules.

"I've been authorized by Director Fury to use any means necessary to keep you on the premises. If you attempt to leave, or play any games, I will taze you and watch Super-Nanny while you drool into the carpet."

And as she stood in the middle of the dark and locked-down workroom to await Tony's arrival, Becka knew that she would be saying something similar if he asked for special favors or dispensation.

When Tony made it back down the stairs and ordered the lights on, he looked up at seeing the woman of his dreams standing in the middle of his garage, surrounded by his cars and by Jarvis's holographic display depicting the arc reactor in his chest and the current damage it was doing to his body compared to earlier models and charts depicting the palladium levels in his blood and his blood toxicity over the last several weeks. His face fell and he stared in disbelief, not expecting to see this woman for another two days at the very least, and certainly not standing amid the evidence that proved he hadn't been telling her all of the truth.

"You . . ."