Chapter 11
JC pulled into her garage by 9:30 and rushed quickly into the house. She had never gotten a response to her text message, so she assumed Darren must have still been asleep, which would be just fine with her. She didn't want him to see her just yet. Sneaking quietly up the stairs, she hoped to grab a shower and change before he woke up, maybe even get breakfast started, but she wasn't holding her breath on that one.
"Mom, is that you?" came Darren's voice when she was only half way up.
"Yeah, it's me," she said and gave up her sneaking. Darren came around the corner from his room already fully dressed for the day. "You never texted me back this morning, so I thought you'd still be asleep. What are you doing up already?"
"I did text you. Did you not check your phone?"
JC patted her pockets looking for the small device, but it was nowhere to be found on her person. "Damn it. I must have left it at Stark's house. Oh well. I'll pick it up when I go back."
"Do you have to go? You were there all day and all night yesterday. And you look terrible. Are you okay?" he asked, studying her intensely. She hated when he did that. He was too good at being able to see right through her.
"I'm fine, sweetie. It was just a long day, and I didn't get much sleep last night. I'll be fine after a shower and some food," she assured him.
"Okay," he replied skeptically. "I'm just gonna do some homework downstairs."
She nodded and went to her room. She stood in the shower letting the hot water melt away her stress if only a little bit. Part of her still couldn't believe what had happened this morning. For the first time, she had actually told someone the worst parts of her past. Not even Brenan knew about her being raped. She didn't know why she felt the need to tell Tony or why she had felt so comfortable telling him. He could have done without it. Maybe he only needed to know about Brenan, but something in her told her that talking about her childhood was something that she had been in dire need of for so long. But why him? She never felt like she could tell her family, her friends, but with Tony it had just come out. She thought it would have been harder to tell him, but it felt so easy, so right to talk about it. Even though she was having some reservations about the whole thing, it felt like a burden had been lifted, like she could finally rest easier, breathe easier for the first time in years.
He had stood there and told her it wasn't her fault. How many people had told her that over the years? How many therapists and psychiatrists had told her those same words or their equivalent? Why was it when he said it, she could actually believe it? At least believe it enough to let go of everything, even if it was just for a moment.
Finished with her shower, she towel dried her hair before sliding into a hoody and sweat pants and headed down to the kitchen intent on making some sort of food. Only when she headed down stairs, the smell of cooking bacon drifted up along with the sound of the exhaust fan. It wouldn't have been so unexpected if she didn't already know that Darren didn't know how to cook. But there he was at the stove, pulling out the last few pieces from the pan to sit on a paper towel covered plate. What was more surprising was that none of it was burnt.
She watched as he wiped out the pan of extra grease before pouring a bowl of scrambled eggs into the pan. With the fan still running, he probably couldn't hear a thing going on around him, which meant he was completely oblivious to her watching him, which she didn't mind for the moment. It had only been three months she was gone, a relatively short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but in that short amount of time her little boy had grown up. He had been doing a good job of pretending nothing had changed, but in this one oblivious moment, she saw the real toll the last three months had taken. His features were hardened now, and the small smile that he usually had when he thought he was alone was no longer there. She couldn't take away the pain of the past months, but she could do something to help ease it.
When the eggs were finished, he divided them onto two plates and added some bacon to each one before grabbing his pan to turn and put in the sink. It was then that he finally noticed her. He let out a yelp, nearly dropping the pan.
"You know it's creepy to stare at people like that, right?" he teased, trying to recover.
"I'm allowed to stare. I'm your mother," she said matter-of-factly as she made her way to one of the plates and plucked up a piece of bacon. Not too crunchy, not too undercooked. "You've been keeping secrets from me. I might have to put you to work in here more often."
"Don't get too excited. Breakfast is the only thing I've perfected."
"Baby steps," she said, pulling him close for a hug and kissed his forehead. "I'll have you cooking the perfect steak in no time. Now that is the way to win a woman's heart."
"And here I thought food was the way to a guy's heart, not the girl," he said, grabbing a pair of forks and their plates and headed for the dining room.
"There is that," she admitted. "But we girls like to be pampered, and one of the best ways is making a perfect steak dinner. Unless you're vegan or something. You're on your own for that one."
They both laughed as they curled up in their chairs at the table, a time honored tradition in their house. JC hated formality and therefore didn't enforce it in her house unless it was a social necessity.
"So when did you learn how to cook?" JC asked between bites of egg.
"The parents of the group home required all of us to be able to do anything and everything around the house. Cooking, cleaning, yard work, that kind of stuff."
She slowed down on her food. She hadn't been oblivious to the fact that Darren would have had to go into foster care when they were taken. There was no guarantee if she was alive or not, and with no other living family members, there wasn't much of a choice for him. She wasn't familiar with the system, but she had heard of horror stories.
"If you kids were doing all the house work, what did the parents do?" she asked casually.
His head shot up as if realizing he'd said something wrong. "It wasn't like that. We weren't child labor or anything. It was more like learning life skills. There was a schedule for everyone every month with what they were supposed to do and the parents would help out where they were needed. Joyce and Martin, the parents, they were awesome. You would have really liked them."
"You're not just saying that, right?" she probed.
"No way. They were really nice. And they were there for me when I needed them."
The note of grief in his voice didn't go unnoticed. She hated seeing that kind of sadness on his face, hated seeing that little bit of light gone from his eyes. Much as she needed to get back to Tony before he did something stupid, she was needed here more.
"I do have to go back Tony's around 2:00 to at least pick up my stupid cell phone, but what do you say we ditch the homework today and do something fun, just you and me?"
"Seriously? You want me to ignore my schoolwork? Did aliens abduct you last night and switch out your brain? You coming down with something?" he teased, putting a hand to her forehead as if feeling for a fever.
"Turd," she said, batting his hand away. "I'm serious. Movie, arcade, beach time, spa, whatever."
"Spa?"
"Never mind. Private joke. Not even that funny."
He laughed none the less. "Hey, I'm all for spa time, if that's what you need. I will totally surrender my manliness for mother-son bonding time."
"Oh really? You're gonna surrender something, buddy," she said before wrapping an arm around his neck and rubbed her knuckles against his head. He yelled something about no noogies at the table, but she ignored him. Eventually he gave in and wrestled her to the ground. They grappled playfully for several minutes, hardly stopping when they knocked over one of the chairs. She couldn't even remember the last time they had a good wrestling match, but it was long overdue, and completely necessary.
When she had finally pinned him to the ground and forced him to tap out, they both sat there on the floor laughing.
"Are you sure you have to go back to Stark's house? You can always get your phone tomorrow."
"I hadn't planned on taking the whole day off until about five minutes ago. Plus, I promised I would be back."
"Would he say no if you asked for the day?"
"Unfortunately not," she groaned. "If I tell him I want to take the day off, it'll just stroke his ego. He's already insufferable as it is."
"So what are you gonna do?"
JC wracked her brain for ideas. How could she ditch Stark without having to admit he was right? Then, an idea struck.
"We're going to have fun this morning. Then this afternoon, you're going to stowaway. I know exactly how to play Stark."
Three o' clock rolled by and still JC had not returned. Since she refused to take the day off, he had at least wanted her to take her time, but a phone call would have been nice before she decided to be late. Normally he wouldn't worry, but she was never late. After about another ten minutes he was ready to pick up the phone when she came running through the door.
"I hate cars, I hate freeways, and I hate idiots who feel the need to go hot rodding. They should all be shot!" she exclaimed.
"Let's try this again. Hi, how are you? I'm fine and you?" Tony responded.
"I'm sorry I'm late. Some idiot decided to race his Camaro against somebody's Mustang, and it wasn't pretty, okay?"
"You could have called and said so."
"I left my cell phone here by accident. Why? Were you worried?"
"No," he said casually, "I was just half hoping you were out enjoying yourself like I told you to do. Silly me."
"Tony, you can't stay out of trouble for more than five minutes without supervision. What exactly would you have done, if I hadn't come back today?" she questioned.
"I told you. I was just going to stay home and do calculations all night."
"Uh huh. And after that you would test it and break your neck. Who do you think Pepper would hunt down first?"
"Are you afraid of Pepper?" he questioned, raising his brow and smirking.
"You know better than anyone that an angry woman is not a force to be reckoned with."
"You have a point there. Pepper is rather intimidating," he admitted, "But listen. I promise not to do a single experiment while you're gone. I will stay in the garage all night."
"You will never be able to keep that promise."
"Care to wager on that?" he challenged.
"You wanna make a bet?" she questioned. "All right. What are the stakes?"
"If I stay here all night and not do anything stupid, by your definition, you'll stop sticking around here so often and take some personal time every once in a while," he offered.
"And if you don't, you are not allowed to bring up the subject ever again. Deal?" she said, offering her hand.
"You're on," he said, taking her hand. "This will be cake."
"Tony, before the night's out, you will lose."
"Don't count on it. Now go have fun with Darren, go to a spa, or whatever it is you do for fun. You do know what fun is, right?" he teased.
She reached out and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "You deserved that, jerk. I'll be back tomorrow morning then. That is, unless Pepper or JARVIS call me first," she said with a smirk.
"Don't count on it."
She could hardly believe that it had worked, but her plan went off more smoothly than she had expected. After she pulled away from the house, she allowed Darren to sit up from his laying position in the back seat. She hadn't wanted to take the chance than JARVIS or Tony would see him and question her motives.
The rest of the day was spent going to the movies and hanging out on the boardwalk. It was something they hadn't done since Darren was very small, and on such a beautiful day, she didn't want to spend it completely cooped up inside.
By evening they had settled down in her bedroom with plenty of snacks and junk food while they watched a bunch of rental movies. In between movies she turned the TV to briefly watch the news while Darren went to the kitchen to pop a fresh bowl of popcorn. Flipping through to the news channel, there was a reporter at some charity function rambling on about celebrity gossip. She nearly changed the channel when she heard Tony's name mentioned. Apparently the fundraiser was held by Stark Industries…and Tony wasn't expected to be there.
"Shit," JC muttered as she ran to the bathroom and pulled out her makeup. She wanted to believe that he wouldn't show up and make some sort of scene, but she knew him too well. If he caught wind of the event tonight, he was sure to crash it. She finished blush and eyeshadow and was about to add some eyeliner when Darren made it back to the room.
"I am ready for more mummy action. How about…" He stopped when he caught her in the bathroom. "What's going on?"
"Gotta go crash a party. Grab the red halter from the closet and lay it out, would you?"
"What happened to today being about us?" he griped as she secured her hair in a bun with her favorite weaponized hair sticks. She hoped nothing bad would happen, but she wasn't going to take a chance with Tony's first public outing since his little press conference.
"I know, sweetie, but this sort of came out of the blue," she said as she slathered on some lipstick and came out. He might have been upset about her sudden departure, but he had done as she asked and laid her dress out for her. She motioned for him to turn before shimmying out of her sweats and attaching her thigh holsters. One would hold her pistol while the other held a stiletto knife that would just barely be covered by her dress.
"You shouldn't have to be at his beck and call like that, especially this late," Darren grumbled as he zipped her up.
"I'll explain later, but if I'm right, tonight is going to make my life a hell of a lot easier."
"And if you're wrong?"
"How often am I wrong?" Darren didn't bother coming up with a response. "I will probably be home late, so don't wait up for me, and get started on your homework tomorrow morning. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a lazy salute.
"I love you, sweetie," she said, kissing his forehead. "Don't stay up all night."
With that, she headed out, not sure if she was really hoping to be right.
The day had passed with relatively no problem. Tony stayed downstairs the entire day staring at his computer screens going over even the most minute detail from the test flight. Sometime past ten o'clock he was nearly dying of boredom. He'd wanted to test his theories more thoroughly with a live simulation rather than the computer, but he was not about to lose the bet. Tony Stark did not just give in so easily.
He stared through the face plate of the Mark II at the television to see a report from the Disney Concert Hall for the annual Fireman's Ball. He wouldn't have thought it so bad if they hadn't been calling him bedridden with PTSD.
"Hey, JARVIS, did we get an invite to that?"
"I have no record, sir," the AI responded.
Tony wasn't sure which was worse: his agitation that the news was calling him bedridden with PTSD or the burning desire to go crash the party.
"Your render is complete, sir," JARVIS said as the image of the latest suit design came up on screen: a gold alloy with Hot Rod Red trimming. It wasn't exactly a stealthy look, which JC would probably hate, but she was just going to have to live with it.
"Yeah, I like it. Fabricate it, paint it," he said looking down at his watch. Nearly ten fifteen. JARVIS said it would take about five hours to complete the whole thing. More than enough time to show the world he hadn't lost his mind. "Don't wait up for me, honey," he said, heading for the door.
"May I remind you of your bargain with Miss Alwin, sir? You are not supposed to leave the house."
"JARVIS, JC is probably already asleep. Besides, this isn't something stupid, so don't call her," he ordered.
"Of course, sir."
After quickly dressing, styling his hair, and adding a dash of cologne, Tony hopped into his silver Audi and sped down the highway to the Disney Concert Hall. Sure the thought that he was breaking the bet had crossed his mind, but what she didn't know wouldn't come back to bite his ass.
As he handed over the car over to the valet the cameras, and the girls, went wild. Several women threw themselves at him hoping that he had remembered that special night. He never could get all the faces straight with their names. Spotting Obadiah's shocked face through the crowd, he figured it would be a good idea to say hello.
"Well, look at you," Stane greeted, trying to keep his surprise down to a minimum. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"What's the world coming to when a guy has to crash his own party?" he quipped. "I'll see you inside."
"Take it slow," Stane warned. "I've got the board right where I want them."
Tony gave a nod and said, "Just a little cabin fever. I'll only be a few minutes."
He turned, ready to go inside when the most unexpected face appeared. "Don't we look spiffy tonight," JC said, arms crossed.
It took Tony several moments to get over not only seeing JC but seeing her in a dress to boot. The red satin of her gown shimmered in the light as it accented curves he never realized she had. Well, curves he had forgotten about. The low cut in the front coupled with the cut that went up her thigh was the cherry on top. Her hair had been pulled up into a neat bun fastened by two hair sticks.
"Are you done fantasizing yet?" she asked, breaking him of his stupor. Her words took him back to that fateful night in Japan. She had said similar words earlier that day before he had…He didn't want to finish that thought.
"I wasn't fantasizing. I was watching my life flash before my eyes," he said quickly.
"Good answer, because if I'm not mistaken, we agreed that you would stay home."
"JARVIS told you, didn't he?" he assumed.
"No, not JARVIS."
"Pepper?" he guessed, though that was highly unlikely since he hadn't told anyone. Unless JARVIS had betrayed him and called Pepper. He hadn't given any instructions not to call Pepper. Damn.
"Not even close."
"Then how did you know?"
"There's this new invention called the TV. I figured you'd want to make a big entrance like this," she explained with a smirk.
"I take it that means you're here to drag me back."
"Tony, Tony, Tony," she said, linking arms with him. "I'm not here to drag you away. I'll let you stay and wallow in the thought that you lost and think about all the ways I will get to gloat for the next few days. So, let's go," she said, and led him inside.
"I am curious how you managed to get all dressed up and get over here so quickly. I mean, I know you have pretty good skills at that, but this is impressive."
"This is not the first time I've had to be ready on the fly, and you have a knack for needing me ready faster than usual."
"I'm guessing that means you didn't have time to pack a pistol. What a shame," he teased.
"Oh, I'm packing, Mr. Stark. Never leave home without my gun or a trusty knife. But you're right. I didn't have time to pack everything I wanted to."
He gave her a look over, wondering where she was hiding it all. He was sure that the knife was probably one of her hair sticks; he hadn't forgotten how sharp she liked to keep them. "You thought there would honestly be trouble?"
"I'm careful, Tony. That's what makes me good."
"How much trouble will I get in if I say you look beautiful tonight?"
"That would depend if you were being sarcastic or trying to suck up."
He gave a smirk. "Can't a man say a woman looks beautiful without having an ulterior motive?"
"A man can. You, not so much," she said with a mischievous look. "Besides, you've seen me in a dress before. It's not that impressive."
"Not in a very long time, but it is a good look for you. You should try it more often."
"Not on your life."
"Would you like a drink?" he offered, trying to change subject.
"Are you getting one?"
"Well, yeah."
"Then no. Somebody's gotta drive."
"We can always call a cab, if you are that worried," he pointed out.
"Tony, just go, and stop having a fit. Consider this a last chance of freedom."
"Thank you, mother," he said and walked to the bar and ordered a scotch. Now he was starting to regret leaving.
"Mr. Stark?" a man said. Tony turned to see a man in an obviously government issued suit.
"Yeah?" he responded.
"Agent Coulson," he introduced himself.
"Oh yeah, the guy from the…"
"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division," he clarified. It was obvious he was used to this.
"Wow. You gotta get a new name for that," he commented.
"We're working on it," CoulsenCoulson admitted. "We need to debrief you on the events of your escape. What do you say to the thirteenth, your office?"
Tony didn't really hear a word of what was said. He was too fixated on his assistant who was wearing a very revealing low back dress.
"You're right. Let me go talk to my assistant and we'll make it a date," he stammered and wandered off.
"Hey," he greeted Pepper, who was more than a little shocked to see him.
"What? What are you doing here?"
"Nothing. Just avoiding government agents," he said.
"Are you by yourself?"
"No, no. I've got JC with me. See?" he said, looking over to the bar. JC was there, Agent Coulson seemingly in deep conversation with her. He almost felt bad for leaving her with the vulture. "You look great. I hardly recognized you. When did you get that dress?" he asked trying to change the subject.
"It was a gift for my birthday. From you, actually."
"Oh. Well, I got great taste. Would you like to dance?"
"Oh, no, I couldn't."
"Great," he said and pulled her away to dance. Anything that helped put some distance between himself and the federal agent was a good thing in his mind. Though, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Pepper seemed very nervous about the situation.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.
"Oh, no. I always forget to wear deodorant and dance with my boss in front of everyone I work with in a dress with no back."
"You look great. You smell great," he said trying to alleviate her nerves. "Although, I could fire you if that would ease the tension."
"I don't think you could tie your shoes without me."
"I'd make it a week," he said confidently. How hard could that be? Just because she practically ran his life didn't mean he couldn't make it on his own for awhile. Hadn't he lasted for three months in a desert without her? Granted, he wasn't trying to get through normal life, but it had to count for something.
"Really? What's your social security number?" she asked.
He thought about for a moment. No good answer came to mind. "Five," he answered.
"Five? You're just missing a couple of digits," she teased.
"The other eight. I got you for the other eight," he said with a smirk. He knew just how to take off the edge. And it had been working up until then. Now there was just an awkward silence that just didn't seem to be fill-able. When it seemed like it would never end, Tony stopped. "Want some air?"
"Yes, I need some air," she said.
Not wasting a moment, he led her from the dance floor to the balcony where nerves were replaced by what he could only discern as anger.
"That was totally weird," she said.
"That was totally harmless."
"It was totally not harmless. I mean…in front of everyone I work with…"
"I really think you lost objectivity here," he said. "We just danced."
"No, it's not just a dance. You don't understand, because you're you, and everyone knows you and how you are with girls and that's fine," she stammered. "But then, you know, me, and you're my boss…"
"I really think you're making too much of it."
"It makes me look I'm the one that's trying to…"
"You're just overreacting a bit."
"And we're here and I'm in this ridiculous dress," she said breathlessly. It was only a second later that she had closed what little distance there was between them, her lips parted as an invitation. He moved in, but some thought in the back of his mind stopped him for the first time. Did he really feel that way? For Pepper? Or was she just another conquest? He wasn't sure. The awkwardness grew until both of them finally pulled away. Tony tried to think of something to say, anything to break the tension, but Pepper was on top of it.
"I would like a drink," she said.
"Got it," he said instantly, ready to get away from that scene.
"I would like a vodka martini, very dry with olives, lots of olives, like at least three olives."
He wandered back downstairs to get the martinis when he saw JC standing at the bar looking rather livid. She had a glass of what looked an awful lot like scotch, though it looked untouched.
"Having a good time?" she asked unconvincingly.
"Avoiding government agents, dealing with emotion fraught assistants, what could be more fun? You?"
"Well, Tony Stark," a blonde woman in a short black dress greeted him. Tony knew he should recognize her from somewhere, but, as always, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The woman walked over and leaned against the bar, obviously wanting a conversation.
"Oh, hey," he said politely as his mind raced to find a name for her.
"Fancy seeing you here," she said cordially.
Tony groped around his mind desperately looking for her name but couldn't find the exact one, so he took a guess. "Carrie?"
"Christine," she corrected.
"That's right," he said casually. Not even close, he berated himself. Now he remembered who she was. Christine Everheart: Vanity Fair reporter and the last woman he slept with before going to Afghanistan.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here tonight," she said accusingly. "Can I at least get a reaction from you?"
"Panic. I would say panic is my reaction," he said, looking nervously to JC, eyes begging her to step in. Sure, the reason he had hired her wasn't really to be a bodyguard, but technically that was her job. Christine might not be a sword wielding, gun toting terrorist, but she was close enough, right? She looked over briefly at Christine before rolling her eyes.
"Because I was referring to your company's involvement in this latest atrocity."
"Yeah, they just put my name on the invitation. I wouldn't know what to tell you," he said, giving another glance to JC.
"I actually almost bought it hook line and sinker."
"Listen, lady," JC finally interrupted. "I don't know what you're after, but back off," she said, stepping between them.
"This is none of your business," Christine retorted, trying to push past JC.
"It is," JC said, sidestepping with her, "when you are verbally attacking my client. Now back off before my stiletto 'accidently' finds its way through your foot."
Not very subtle, but it would do, he supposed.
"So," she said, a smirk forming, "you're the infamous, pathetic excuse of a bodyguard Tony hired. I thought he would have better sense than to hire somebody who had just nearly gotten him killed, but I guess he just can't resist the big chest, bimbo type."
A faint 'clink' was heard and Christine's eyes went wide. Tony peered over JC's shoulder to see a stiletto knife stuck in the floor. So, she had brought a knife besides her little sticks.
"Oops," JC said unapologetically, "it slipped. You know, being the big chest, bimbo type, I'm a bit clumsy."
"Threaten me all you like, but you're not protecting a saint. I know him for what he really is," Christine seethed.
"So do I. Now unless you have something better than that, I suggest you leave before making a bigger embarrassment of yourself."
"He's told everyone he's taking responsibility. Is this what you call accountability?" she questioned, throwing a stack of photos on the bar. "It's a town called Gulmira. Ever heard of it?"
Tony grabbed the pictures and flipped through them as JC looked on. He knew what she was thinking. Yinsen's hometown was Gulmira. There were cases clearly marked with the Stark Industries logo loaded on trucks, cases being unloaded, and worst of all, a fully set up Jericho missile system.
"When were these taken?" he questioned.
"Yesterday," Christine spat.
He took another glance down at the photo of the Ten Ring insignia and his Jericho missiles.
"I didn't approve any shipment."
"Well, your company did."
"I'm not my company," he seethed. "Come on, JC."
JC bent down and grabbed her knife and replaced it in its holster beneath her dress.
"You're no saint either for sleeping with him," JC said in Christine's ear. Tony smirked. Score one for JC.
"At least I'm not a dog that comes when called," Christine threw back. That was low. Tony turned, ready with a retort, but JC put a hand on his chest.
"Don't," she chided. "We're not children. We're not sticking around for more name-calling."
When they both turned to leave, Tony heard Christine clearly mutter, "Coward."
When he no longer heard the clack JC's heels behind him, he turned back just in time to see JC's fist collide with Christine's nose. Christine crumpled to the floor and looked like she might have been knocked unconscious. JC straightened her dress and started walking back toward the exit.
"If you will excuse me, I will be getting the car." And score two for JC.
Tony followed quickly behind as people rushed over to tend to Christine. As he was about to follow her all the way to the valet, he spotted Obadiah talking to several reporters. If anyone would know anything about the photos, he would.
"Stane," he called. "Have you seen these?" he asked as he shoved the pictures in Stane's hands.
Obadiah stopped to shoo away more photographers as he barely glanced at the photos.
"Tony, you're being naïve."
"No, I was naïve when they said, 'Here's the line. Don't cross it. That's how we do business.' If we're double dealing under the table…" Tony didn't even want to think it. "Are we?"
Stane gave him an assessing view before turning back to the paparazzi. "Let's take a picture, huh?" The cameras went wild at the chance to capture the two greatest business men of the world. "Who do you think locked you out? I was the one who filed the injunction against you. It was the only way I could protect you," Stane said, and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Tony stood there dumbfounded with a feeling of anger and loneliness he hadn't felt since he lost his parents. The one person he trusted most had betrayed him.
"Tony," JC said, touching his shoulder.
"What?" he answered through gritted teeth.
"Let's get out of here," she said pulling him down the stairs to the valet who had brought his car around.
The drive back to his home was silent as the two sat staring out the front. When JC finally pulled into the garage and killed the engine she buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath.
"Are you all right?" Tony finally asked, the conversation with Christine rising to the front of his mind.
"Me? Stane just told you he's trying to take your company away all because you're trying to do some good. I should be the one asking if you're okay."
"This isn't the first time someone's ever tried to take the company, and it won't be the last. This isn't something new to me. But what Christine said–"
JC was out of the car before he could finish and hurrying toward to the door. He followed quickly behind. JC knew how to take a hit; name-calling wasn't something new with her line of work. The hit to Christine's face though was a bit much, though not entirely undeserved. Still, it wasn't like JC to completely lose her cool like that. Whatever was going on, it wasn't just about Christine.
"JC, wait."
She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned back to him. "What? If you're about to say she's wrong, she's not. You nearly died on my watch out there, and I did little to stop it. You were the one who had to save me, remember?"
He couldn't even believe what he was hearing. "Are you kidding me right now? If it wasn't for you, we might have been blown up in the Humvee. Or that mortar could have just killed us instead of leaving us the way we are now. Sure, I carried you to the helicopter, but that wouldn't have happened without everything you did. Afghanistan, Japan, you saved my ass nearly at the cost of your own life. And you think you did nothing? That's bullshit."
"We shouldn't even be like this!" she snapped. "If I had done a better job, we would have made it out. Instead, we spent three months as prisoners."
"No one is perfect!" he snapped back. "You can't blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Bad things happened, but I would rather have you over anyone else watching my back."
Her hands were balled into fists when she blurted out, "I tried to kill you!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If this is about the time you tried to strangle me at the party, I deserved that."
"No," she said weakly. "After that, when you came to my room." She moved to the small leather couch and sat down, her hands playing nervously in her hair.
"What are you talking about?" he asked cautiously as he followed her, but stayed standing.
"You were laying there on the floor, unconscious. I had everything planned out. I would drag you back to your room, slit your throat. I even thought out how to alter the security video footage, how to give myself a plausible alibi. I had my knife at your neck, Tony. I was going to kill you."
He stood there a beat, letting it all sink in. He couldn't even blame her for wanting to kill him, especially after what she had told him that morning. "So what stopped you?"
"Guilty conscience, I suppose. It's all a bit of a haze now, but I remember thinking that I could never look Darren in the eye again, if I took a life in cold blood. There was a vague thought that even with my careful plan, someone would figure out the truth, but that wasn't nearly as important as Darren."
Tony finally took a seat on the other end of the couch from her as he mulled over this new information. She had hated him so much she was willing to kill him, yet here she was now, willing to work beside him. None of it made any sense.
"So why, in light of everything that's happened between us, would you agree to help me?"
"I was desperate, at first. But this thing that you're building, it's different from anything else you've ever done. I see its potential…your potential…for good."
That was all he needed, and at that moment all he could have ever hoped to hear from her.
"Then there's only one thing to do at this point," he said, standing up and moved in front of her. "I have an idea, but it is arguably insane. So, I have to ask you one thing first. Do you trust me?"
Her brow furrowed as she stared at him. "I don't see how–"
"No, no, no," he said quickly, holding up a finger. "It's a simple yes or no question. Do you, JC, trust me?"
She stared at him quizzically for another moment before answering almost hesitantly, "Yes."
"Okay then," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Here is my insane plan. When we were in that cave and had to work together, we agreed to put our differences aside temporarily so that we could get out alive. I'm saying we do that again now, except on a more permanent level."
"Tony–"
"Let me finish," he interrupted. "This isn't forgive and forget. I know what I've done, and no apology will ever even begin to make amends for what's happened. I want to change, to be a better man. Yinsen made me see that I could be better, do more with my life, but I can't stay on that path without you. I need you, JC, but you and I…if we don't do something, we are just going to keep going in circles and stay in the past. I don't want that. Do you?"
She fidgeted with her hands for a moment. "No," she finally said, barely above a whisper, but she still refused to look at him.
He knelt down and laid a hand over hers. "Then let's start over. No more punishing each other." When she still wouldn't look at him, he touched her chin, gently turning her face toward him. When her eyes finally met his he said, "No more punishing ourselves."
This wasn't just a fresh start for their friendship. If they were ever going to move on with their lives, they both needed to let go of their past, and not just the things they went through in the cave or Japan. Her childhood, Darren's father, all the guilt and responsibility she felt for that was only holding her back from living. There was plenty that he knew he needed to give up, but it all started here, this one moment.
"I don't know how," she said weakly. "But I know that I don't want to keep living in the past. I don't know where this project will go, but I know that no matter what, I want to be a part of it."
Tony smiled near the verge of laughter and tears of joy. "That is probably the best thing you have ever said to me."
She was smiling too, looking almost as giddy as he felt. "Yeah, well, don't get too used to it. I'm sure I'll have something to yell at you for by morning."
Now they both started laughing. It was the best outcome he could have ever hoped for. In all honesty, it was the moment he had been worked toward since the moment he had asked her to come work for him. Now that it was here, he wasn't entirely sure what would come next, and thought both frightened and excited him.
"Well, if it's all right with, I'd like to go upstairs and get out of these clothes before I go home."
"Go ahead. I'll be down here, if you need anything."
It was nearly a half hour before JC finally came back downstairs in the pair of pajamas she had used the night before. She was still a bit flabbergasted at how the whole night had gone. Nowhere in her wildest dreams had she expected it to turn out this way, but she had no regrets. For the first time in a very long time, it felt like she was taking two steps forward instead of back, and it felt incredible.
She was gathering up her purse and cell phone and about to call a cab when she heard explosions coming from the garage. She ran down the stairs and was about to enter the key code for the door when she realized it was no longer there. The entire wall was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Tony was standing not too far off with one of the gauntlets on his right hand.
"Tony, is everything all right?" she asked tentatively. After what they had just been through not very long before, she was surprised to see the turn of events.
"Everything is fine, JC," he answered.
"You want to explain this then?"
He turned to her, a look of hatred and determination she had not seen since the day they escaped.
"It's time to take the Mark III for a test run. I was thinking about heading towards Gulmira, blowing up a few missiles."
"Tony, you're not thinking straight."
"No, I am. I built those things, and now they are killing innocent people," he fumed, pointing toward the television. "I can't just sit here doing nothing. I'm not asking for your permission, JC. I am asking that you not get in my way."
"Like hell I won't," she exclaimed. "A test flight is one thing. Going half way across the world and jumping into weapons fire is something else entirely."
"That's his home!" Tony exclaimed. "That is Yinsen's home," he said more calmly, though the danger was not gone from his voice. "And those are my weapons that were stolen from me. I'll be damned if I let them get away with destroying his home with my weapons. I wasn't lying when I said I needed you, but if I have to, I will do this alone."
She had seen the photos just as he had. Even now as she listened to the report on the television it still made her stomach churn. But her soldier's instincts told her what should be done.
"Tony, I want revenge as much as you do. But this isn't the way to do it. If you go in there, you are likely to get yourself killed. This isn't just a cave full of terrorists with some small munitions. It's a war-zone. There are innocent people in there along with Jericho missiles, tanks, and God only knows what else. There are other people qualified to handle this. You need to let them–"
"They're not doing a damn thing!" His armored hand was balled into a fist and he looked ready to let another blast fly at any moment. "No one is able to go in. No one is willing to go in. I have to do this. Are you going to help me, or not?"
She stood there in the doorway faced with an impossible decision. Either let him go get himself killed, or try to stop him and leave him feeling like this for the rest of his life and possibly cause him to hate her forever. Neither was a good option. What's a bodyguard to do?
AN: Hope you are all enjoying the new content. Whether this is your first read or just coming back through, feel free to leave a review. I'm always curious to hear what people think of the story and love to hear what you guys have to say :)
