AN: Yay another update! You all have made me so happy with your continuing reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
Warning: This chapter contains the discussion of graphic murder, disturbing imagery and the discussion of possible/already occurred permanent injury.
Tony returned to the den after his graduation, quieter and more serious in his countenance. His violin, an instrument he picked up to keep his fingers flexible for work and inventing, sat unplayed in his room and his voice no longer rang through the halls as it once had, as the music seemed to have left him.
Very few things seemed to make him smile anymore. He spent time in the stables, marveling over and gentling Achilles and Loreena's twin colts, who, by the time Tony's eighteenth birthday came and went, were over a year old. He crafted a new bow, wrapped up his training within the forge and completed more assignments.
But, slowly, as time went on, Tony opened up again, and became the fun-loving trickster they'd known for years. It started slowly, a small smile when others would tell jokes and tease each other over dinner, soft warbling notes from the violin or a quiet rejoinder to someone else's song.
During their spare time, now that they were no longer in any form of academic lessons, Tony and Achilles participated in jumping competitions around the US and UK. So while the rest of the world thought the young Stark heir was out partying somewhere in Europe, he was actually winning medals. Amazing what one could get away with equipped only with some hair dye and colored contacts.
Tony meets Phil Coulson for the first time on his thirty-ninth assignment. He'd been in Saudi Arabia, definitely his favorite place to travel and perform assignments. He'd just finished with a hit and was jumping from roof to roof in a residential district, dripping blood, both human and animal, from the slaughterhouse he'd just left.
The sun was falling behind him and cast long shadows on the roofs where he was moving. Saudi Arabia, and just about every other middle eastern country, had houses that were close together and had plenty of pipes, windows and decorations on the sides of houses, and it was the easiest place for free-running.
However, not even Tony, with his fast reflexes and speed, was ready for a blonde-haired man to pop up off the side of the building, rifle at the ready to swing at his head. Tony dropped low and immediately went to the staff holster on his thigh. The velcro came undone with a flick of his fingers and, with an intricate flick of his wrists, the staff snapped into place. Five feet long and made of solid steel with an iron-weight core, Tony now had the advantage of reach and damage.
Pushing his advantage, he popped up to his full height and used the Bo staff to deliver a debilitating strike to the man's hands, knocking the rifle away and then dashed forward, driving the end of the staff deep into the man's chest, smirking behind his mask when he heard the air leave his opponent in a rush. One last swing to the other man's shoulders had him sprawling across the rooftop, panting, hands bruised and glaring up at Tony with anger in steely eyes.
Tony raised the staff into the air, intent on delivering a blow just strong enough to knock his opponent out, when there was a quiet noise behind him, followed by several clicks. Tony looked up and noticed almost a dozen men and women, all in black leather bodysuits, pointing handguns at him and, directly in front of where he was standing, an unassuming man in a suit.
Tony carefully lowered the Bo staff and then, with another flick of his thumb over the catch and twist of his wrists, the staff collapsed into four equal parts, which he replaced in the holster on his thigh and closed.
"Sunvaar Fox." The man in the suit intoned respectfully and Tony grunted. SHIELD. They'd been warned of them before and, even if they hadn't, Tony would recognize the organization his father helped found. SHIELD was technically the only other agency, besides the CIA and FBI, which would recognize on the Order's assassins at a glance and know how to address them, and that was only because all three organizations were under the purview of the WSC.
"Agent." He responded with the same respect. No need to make anyone angry, immunity or otherwise. They could still shoot him and say it was an accident. The man in the suit waved his hand and everyone put the safeties on their weapons, returning them to holsters and Tony relaxed from his ready stance. The man in the suit helped Tony's opponent up, murmuring something in his ear until he stood behind and to the left of the suited man. Finally, the man held his hand out.
"Agent Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and-" Tony made an impatient noise in his chest and cut the other man off, shaking hands with Agent Coulson.
"Of SHIELD, I know. Sunvaar Fox, of the Raan Do Sivaas. I didn't come here for trouble, Agent Coulson." He said, making sure his voice left no room for arguments. Coulson nodded and sighed. Tony relaxed a little further.
"I get that, but can you please explain why you attacked Agent Barton?" Coulson asked and Tony made a sound, high in his throat, which sounded very much like snerk.
"He popped up off the side of the building and tried to take my head off with the butt-end of that rifle. I was merely defending myself." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. There was the faintest sound of metal over leather and Kevlar, his chainmail shirt no doubt, before everything fell silent again.
"I see. well, we've kept you long enough. I trust you're done here?" Tony nodded and began walking away to the edge of the rooftop.
"I am. In fact, I should be on a plane out of here in the morning. Check the news tonight, Agent Coulson, I think you'll find something of interest." He said haughtily before turning around completely and clearing the gap between roofs with a single bound and the agents watched as he moved away, ebony and crimson tabard fluttering in the breeze.
Later That Evening, SHIELD Base Camp
Coulson was rubbing the bridge of his nose, glancing at the TV screen in front of him and sighing deeply. The contingent he'd been out with earlier, Barton included, were staring at the screen with a strange mix of awe, revulsion and curiosity while the reporter spoke.
"This is the fifty-sixth murder associated with the professional assassin known only as "The Fox". World officials at Interpol and Europol have recently connected the small, obsidian fox figurines the assassin leaves with his targets to arrows, as shot from a bow, with a black fox carved or burned around them. This leaves "The Fox" with three double homicides, one mass murder of ten people and forty-two individual murders to his name. Officials are unwilling to speculate that "The Fox" may actually be a part of the fabled "Raan Do Sivass", or The Order of The Beasts, an organization of professional assassins that may or may not exist."
"The Fox's newest victim, Amir Hassan Awale, was found murdered in his place of business, a slaughterhouse and butcher shop he owned and operated in the city Abha, in the Asir province of Saudi Arabia. Mr. Awale was found hung on meat hooks from the wrists, his body cavity cut open and a message in blood written on the wall. "I sold those women." Was all it said. Officials will be looking into the validity of this message. For the time being, I'm Marsha Roberts and this has been SANN World News."
The room was silent for a moment before one of the agents, who'd stopped to watch when they'd noticed the contingent's rapt attention, spoke. "Sir, wasn't that the man you reported talking to earlier?" She asked and Coulson nodded.
"Yes, Agent Barckel, it is." Was all he said, and then the room went quiet.
Tony meets Pepper Potts for the first time when he's on his ninty-second assignment. He's in New York, strolling through back streets and alleyways like he owns the place when he hears a woman scream and the gruff, lower register of a male voice. "Hand over the purse pretty lady, and I won't have to hurt you. Unless you like it like that."
Tony's lip curled in disgust behind his mask and he picked up the pace, ignoring the rapidly growing puddles from the rain that fell around him. He rounded the corner and growled. Backed into the wall of a building is a young woman, maybe his age of nineteen, with red hair and barely-tanned skin. The thugs holding her up were both massive brutes, wearing dark clothes and ski-masks.
Tony quickly unhooked his bow from his back and grabbed an arrow from his quiver, nocking it before letting it loose. There was the sound of the arrow piercing flesh, then twin screams of terror, one far higher than the other. Tony didn't bother to stop, merely reached for another arrow, nocked it, and let it fly with equal ease. The second thug dropped and Tony stepped out of the shadows, returning the bow to its spot on his back.
The woman had sunken to the ground, shivering and staring at the motionless bodies of her assailants, but she looked up at Tony as he approached. She was about to scream when she noticed the mask, the iridescent blue glow of Tony's colored contacts, which he wore to cover his eyes' actual color, like a beacon in dank of the alley. Tony crouched down to her level and held out a hand, though he drew back when she flinched.
"Hey, it's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you. I mean, I did just save you and all." He said lightly. When he received no response he rose back to his feet and reached into the haversack at his hip, pulling out a burner cellphone. He dialed a number and brought the phone to his ear. "Tango, I need you to come and pick me up at second alleyway down from...Seventh and Parkway. I picked up an extra who needs to see a doctor." He said. Call finished, he put the phone back kneeled down again. The arrows would give him credit for the two extra kills.
"You got a name, miss? Or am I going to have spend the next twenty minutes calling you Jane Doe?" He asked, keeping his voice high and light. Poor woman was in shock. Absolutely no reason to be a jerk to her.
"Vir-Virginia Potts. Ever-everyone c-calls me Pep-pepper." She stumbled over her words and Tony nodded.
"Well, Pepper- can I call you Pepper?" A nod. "Well Pepper, you can call me Fox, like everyone else does. My driver will be here in a few minutes, and we're going to get you to a hospital so you can see a doctor and report the crime. You're in shock and you should make sure those thugs didn't do any damage, alright?" Another nod and Tony looked up as he heard the familiar strains of Mozart filtering through the windows of an approaching SUV.
He helped Pepper to her feet, wrapped his cloak around the shivering woman, knowing the thick fullcloth would keep the water off of her and the warmth around her body, and threw open the backseat of the SUV. He helped her in and then closed the door before hopping into the passenger side. "Nearest Hospital, Tango." He said gently.
Tango, actual name Bruno Jepsan, was one of the most experienced drivers in the Order, and was used to moving assassins, weapons and other, mostly illegal, items from place to place. He drove smooth and slow to the hospital and, when they arrived, Tony slid out of the passenger seat and opened the back. He was hidden in the shadows, and his contacts still glowed from where they could be seen through the eyeholes of his mask.
Once Pepper was out of the car he pushed her gently in the direction of the doors and smiled, though he knew she couldn't see it through his mask. "Just go on in there and explain to a nurse what happened. They'll help you." He said.
Pepper nodded and walked a few feet away before she stopped and turned back around to look at him. "What do i say if they ask who helped me?" She asked and Tony pondered over that for a minute.
"Just tell them that you got help from a Fox. They'll know." Realization came over Pepper's face but before she could say anything, Tony was back in the SUV, driving away into the night.
The first time Tony feels anything more than brotherly affection for Brad, he misses the handhold he's shooting for and slams into the wall, effectively breaking his nose. They were in the den, between assignments and all eight of them were practicing free-running. The cave had a massive cavern, carved out painstakingly, and thick wooden logs served as the course, with plenty of platforms and ropes in between.
Tony was a close second to Brad's first, and if he'd been able to make the jump, he'd have overtaken the other. But Brad looked behind himself and smiled at Tony, so bright and genuine, that if filled Tony with more warmth and affection and something else that he'd been startled by the sheer force of his feelings and mistimed the jump.
Tony slumped to the floor, luckily he'd been near the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing a storm in every language he ever learned. And there'd been a lot by that point. The rest of the class ground to a halt and rushed to his aid.
Anatassia pulled a rag out of her pocket and gently tipped his head back, holding it to his nose. "What was that, Fox? Go a little cross-eyed there?" Robert teased him gently. Now that everyone was masked, they referred to each other by that almost often as their real names, a sign of respect and affection.
"Shut it, Lion. I was still further ahead than you were." He sniped back lightly. "I just got distracted is all. I'll be fine." He grumbled, trying to pull back from Anatassia's hands, but she held on tight, shaking her head.
"I'll be the judge of that, 'Nio. You just slammed face first into the wall. You're going to the infirmary so I can have a better look at your head and make sure nothing's broken." She ordered. Tony groaned something in Macedonian, or what Anatassia assumed to be Macedonian, and rose to feet, allowing her to lead him to the infirmary.
After that, Tony was doubly sure to watch himself around the others as his crush grew. Obviously, they'd all been given the talk about sex and orientation and how the Order didn't care who you slept with, but Tony didn't dare bring it up with anyone in his class, for fear that he would wreck the friendships he had with the other assassins. And so, for the time that passed, Tony squashed his feelings and tried to be the best friend possible.
It was easier when Anatassia and Brad left for medical school shortly after their eighteenth birthdays and Robert, after his twentieth birthday, retired and joined the Marines. But between Tony's seventeenth birthday and his twenty second, he was bored out of his skull between assignments. And so he went to college, eight more times, for nursing, architecture, computer technology and several other minor degrees.
Every assassin has a contingency plan. If they should ever be unmasked, then they could never again show their face in public, mainly because they could be charged with murder. So Tony, with resources of the Order and his own money, created a whole new identity, gave them a background and even bought a house in the name of his alias' parents. Kyle Hennessy got the nursing degree and Tony even had pictures of "Kyle" at varying stages of his teenage and young adult years. Kyle was the name he'd been in the jumping competitions under.
With his future more than secure, both as Tony Stark and as Kyle Hennessy, Tony continued living life to the fullest even as, almost every month, more blood painted his hands.
Injuries are not an uncommon occurrence among assassins. Tony can vividly recall his friends coming back from assignments, bruised, scratched, bones broken and, even occasionally with patched up bullet holes in them. Tony himself had borne the brunt of his many assignments. He'd broken toes and fingers, pulled and strained almost every muscle in his body at one point.
The two injuries that would stick with him the most though had occurred on two separate assignments. The first had been Tony's eighty-ninth assignment. He'd been ordered to put poison in a man's coffee, but the man's secretary surprised him, and Tony splashed a bit in his eye. This poison didn't work like many industrial rat and insect poisons did, as this one was made of carefully picked herbs. Tony's eye swelled an hour later and, by the time one of the medics back at the den had given him the antidote for it, Tony was ninety-percent color blind in his left eye.
The second occurred on Tony's one hundred-and-tenth assignment. In Iraq, he'd been ordered to blow up a house full of terrorists. After setting the timer on the C4 charges, he'd been meant to run for a safe spot and was halfway done putting in the heavy-duty ear plugs when he noticed the young girl moving sheep within the blast radius of the house. Tony had charged for her and managed to tackle her out of the way before the house went off.
Tony suffered a perforated eardrum for his troubles in his right ear and, when he'd gone to a hospital in Sweden to have it looked at, the doctor informed him that one more unhindered sound blast could render him partially or completely deaf in his right ear. As it were, for several years after that, Tony would suffer horrible bouts of tinnitus, which could render him temporarily deaf in both ears. These attacks usually occurred when he pushed himself to exhaustion or when he was exposed to a knock on the head. For these, the doctors prescribed melatonin patches for it, and, if the attacks were really bad, Lidocaine injections into the inner ear.
Tony hated it, but he obeyed what the medics had told him.
Tony took his last assignment when he was twenty-two. He'd been in control of Stark Industries for over a year, and took far less assignments than he had before. His final assignment had him returning home with a broken arm, a black eye and several fractured ribs. Tony officially retired the night he came back from the assignment.
News came that, finally after seven years and two-hundred and thirteen hits, Sunvaar Fox was retiring. A small ceremony was held to commend Tony's service, and the Aak had a special announcement to make. In Tony's seven years, he'd never been seen during an assignment unless he'd meant you to, a feat accomplished by only two others.
That day, Marcie bestowed upon him the title "Sah Sunvaar", Phantom Hunter. The room had applauded him as he made a speech to thank everyone. Tony then accepted the title of Grand Master Blacksmith from Alistair and arranged with Marcie how orders would reach him at his mansion in Malibu.
Tony returned home that night on a StarkJet and, much to his chagrin, found a man in a military blues waiting for him on the tarmac. He scowled as best as he could with his bruised face. Because the biggest contract holder of SI's weapons building division was the military, they'd been sending liaisons to him for the past year.
And Tony had chased away every single one.
He was this close to just requesting Robert as his liaison, and he would have by now, if he wasn't overseas already. As it were, Tony came to stand before the man, looking wholly unimpressed when the man stuck his hand out. Tony didn't bother shaking, his good arm holding his bad arm close to his chest.
"Mr. Stark, I'm Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes. The Air Force sent me to-" Tony cut off the other man with a rough grunt.
"Don't care. I already sent the new projects over for this quarter's review. If they have a problem with anything I sent over, make an appointment with my...shit I don't have an assistant. Just call the offices and they'll set something up." Turning on his heel and not giving the man any time to respond, Tony marched over to where Happy Hogan, his driver and bodyguard, was holding the car door open for him. Happy had been a lucky find. At first, Tony had wanted Tango to be his driver, but Tango didn't want to leave the Order's service. One night, while Tony was coming home from a late dinner, he'd been jumped. He could have defended himself but Happy, seeing the fight, rushed over to help.
Pleased and impressed with the man's strength and easy-going attitude, Tony hired him right on the spot as his driver/bodyguard. This had been a year ago and now, they were close friends. Happy held the door for him and Tony gingerly slid into the car, pulling up a pillow he'd thrown back there and setting it against his chest and laying his arm on it.
Happy drove them home and Tony gratefully climbed out of the car and into his house, after bidding Happy to go home and enjoy his evening. Tony slid into the dark house, which immediately lit up when he entered.
"Good Evening, Sir. How may I be of assistance?"
Tony smiled, a little sadly. Jarvis, his caretaker/third father figure, had passed away while Tony was on assignment two years ago in Africa. Tony had been toying for months with the idea of an AI, and, in a spate of grief-fueled inventing, had crafted one and named it JARVIS. If anyone asked, outside of Anatassia, Brad and Robert of course, he told them it stood for "Just A Rather Very Intelligent System", but those three knew what it really meant.
"Jarvis, have you finished integrating completely into the house?" He asked, slumping onto the couch. Jarvis had been in control of the lab and computers since he came online, but only recently had Tony begun integrating him into the rest of house's systems and appliances.
"I am completely integrated into the house's systems Sir."
"Excellent. Start some coffee and the shower, hot but not too hot. I hurt like a bitch. When that's done, pull up the candidates for my personal assistant, take the five best and order them, best to horrible, in efficiency, punctuality, education, ingenuity and ability to put up with asinine behavior, just in case. Then background checks, recommendations, family checks, the whole nine yards."
"Of course, Sir."
Tony lifted himself up from the couch and went to his bedroom and then, after dressing down and covering his cast with a bag and removing the bandages on his ribs, stepped into the shower. It was perfect, and he spent ten minutes just standing there and reveling in the warmth. Once he was done, he pulled on a pair of soft and worn dark blue linen pajama pants and re-bandaged his ribs before heading into the kitchen.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and then curled gingerly onto the couch, where Jarvis brought up three holographic profiles. "Jarvis, reasons for deleting two of the candidates?" He asked, carefully fingering through the other three.
"Candidate Katy Ruddy has been convicted of Possession of an Illegal Substance, though she has been clean for three years and Candidate Henry Koza was under investigation for a murder four years ago. Although the case went nowhere, I thought it better to err on the side of caution."
Tony nodded. "Excellent Jarvis. Thank you." He carefully paged through the individual reports on the remaining three, although he wasn't terribly impressed with any of them, he knew he'd have to at least interview them before he kicked them all to the curb. "Jarvis, set up interviews for these three tomorrow morning, starting at ten, forty minutes apart."
"Of course Sir."Tony rose from his feet and made to put his empty cup in the sink and take his pills, but he was distracted by a knock on the door. Cursing under his breath in Norwegian as he stormed over to open it, not bothering with a shirt. "Can I help you?" He asked, dry as the Sahara desert as he flung it open.
On the other side of the door was the same military man from the airstrip and Tony could feel his eye twitch. "Are you stalkingme?" He hissed in disbelief, hazel eyes narrowing at the other man. The other man's eyebrows shot up and he stumbled over his answer, but Tony waved his good hand impatiently. "Never mind that. What do you want?" He asked.
"I was ordered to get ahold of you today, but you left the airstrip before I could talk to you." Tony rolled his eyes and was very tempted to close the door on the other man, but instead moved out of the way and allowed the other man inside.
"Jarvis, more coffee please." He said.
"Right away, Sir."The AI responded and Tony had to smile when the other man jumped. Tony grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and downed it with two pain pills. That done, he poured two cups of coffee and brought one into the living room, holding it close to him as he folded himself down onto the couch.
Rhodes went and got the other before settling down in a chair across from Tony. "The General wants to know what you're going to do about the armor for the men and women who disarm IEDs. It was supposed to be submitted to us a month ago and your liaison was supposed to present it. However, you've chased away every single liaison we've sent to you."
Tony snorted indelicately. "I sent it in with Corporal Richards a week before it was due. If it's lost, it's on him. I haven't gotten a letter or call since he left." He declared icily, pleased with himself when Rhodes shifted nervously in his seat.
"He said you refused to hand it over to him and then you told him to leave when he threatened to report you." Rhodes said carefully. Tony just barely contained the growl of anger that escaped him and instead took a deep breath.
"Jarvis, pull up the security tapes for the twenty-second of last month, ten-thirty in the afternoon." He said slowly, face blank as he stared at the man across from him. There was a quiet moment before the television screen across from where they were sitting lit up. It was a view from the left corner of Tony's lab, and it clearly showed Tony handing a young man a large bow. "Make sure this gets to them, Richards."The image of him was saying and the young man was nodding, taking the box and leaving his lab.
There was a stony silence before Rhodes spoke. "Is there any way you can prove that this wasn't tampered with?" He asked and Tony nodded.
"I'll give you a copy to take back to the base with you." He was placated for the other man's presence for now, because someone was accusing him of cheating men and women out of the armor they needed to work safely. Tony handed Rhodes a disk on his way out, and went to bed.
Tony made Virginia Potts his personal assistant the next day. When she had gotten a job in the finance department a year ago, he'd recognized the name on the employment form instantly. He'd stopped by the finance department that afternoon and struck up a conversation, hoping she wouldn't recognize the way he spoke, or held himself. The last thing he needed was someone trying to pin The Fox's crimes on him. Even if they were his crimes.
She didn't.
After that, he watched her occasionally, to make sure she didn't remember who he was and, eventually, she fell to the wayside. Until she used pepper spray to bully her way through his door guards to point out an accounting error he'd made personally. He'd sat there, flabbergasted for a minute, but he was mindful enough to stop the guards from taking her away.
"Do you do that often? Bully your way through trained professionals to point out accounting errors?" He asked, a strange smile on his face. This woman, so different than the one he'd rescued some years ago, blushed lightly, but held her chin up high.
"Only once before." She'd said and Tony felt a smile, bewildered though he was, spread across his face.
"How would you feel about becoming my personal assistant?" He asked and he'd watched a smile of her own spread across her face. Pepper, though he explained to her that she'd earned the nickname by macing her way through his guards, after that became a "professional Tony-herder" for living. At least that's what he called it.
A few days later, Rhodes returned with an official letter of apology, signed by the General himself, apologising for putting Tony under the suspicion of withholding military assets. Rhodes himself made sure to apologise and Tony decided to let him stick around for the time being.
Years passed and, slowly, Tony made bonds with people outside the Order. Rhodes, whom he called Rhodey after the first week, became one of his best friends and Pepper became like a sister to him. Normally, she'd have been a love interest to him but, when someone is around you sixteen hours a day, reminding you constantly to eat and sleep and generally remember he was human, they felt more like a sister than a potential notch on his bedpost.
And then there was Obi.
Obadiah Stane, friend of the family, almost-uncle to the inventor and advisor to the young CEO had been in control of the company until Tony's twenty-first birthday. After that, he felt to the side, occasionally steering Tony and the company in a certain direction and putting up with Tony's playboy lifestyle. In 2009, Tony finished designs on a missile he hoped would help close things out overseas faster, the Jericho.
After some convincing from Obadiah and some prodding from Pepper the morning he was supposed to fly out, and eventually Tony and Rhodey were on a plane bound for Afghanistan.