Hey there, I rushed out another chapter of this while I'm still in the mood for Marvel. The power of caffeine compels me to write more. Also, poll is being closed and I'll be posting the exact power after posting this chap. So if you don't want to see that, don't undo the spoiler text post I'm making after this one.
Anyways, hope you guys enjoy the chapter.
/
"I'm not sure if I should be alarmed or amazed." Probably both. Looking through these documents was a mistake.
"Why?" Laura deigns to ask at my casual remark. I glance over at her and see she's still where I last saw her. Sitting at the end of the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees. Instead of answering right away, I reach out to my glass of bourbon and take a long sip.
"A while back, I got drunk with Stark. Drunk beyond belief, we found SHIELD's files on an underground market." I swirl my glass as I reminisce, Tony was probably the closest person to a friend I had. Too bad I fucked that up too. "Sexbots, things called LMD's. Life Model Decoys. Lady called Nightshade still had the know-how on making them from some shit she pulled in SHIELD. So she started a business a few years back. Can't make them smart, however, or SHIELD would come down on her ass hard. So she makes sexbots that are missing a few brain cells."
Laura furrows her brow. "I don't like that."
"It's a business. And since she only sells them to rich perverts… she gets to keep it running. Hell, I'm sure SHIELD background checks everyone who buys one. It'd be stupid not to." I explain with a shrug of my shoulders after having put my glass down. "That's still not why I'm amazed. No, what amazes me is this one buyer I just found. Someone paid for a top-of-the-line Juggernaut LMD. And they keep sending it in for repairs, costing at the least a small fortune each time."
"Why is that amazing? They keep breaking it."
"It's a sexbot Laura. The how it's being broken is what alarms me." I shake my head. "Yeah, that's enough about that for the day." From the corner of my eye, I spot something I've been neglecting as of late. A large piano sits in the corner of the room. I'm naturally kind of bad at instruments, but this one I forced myself to learn. Getting up from my seat and grabbing my drink, I stroll over to the piano. A faint layer of dust has formed. It's been a month or so since I last played. But as it was tuned four months back I shouldn't have anything to worry about. "You ever take an interest in music, Laura?" I ask her while grabbing a dusting cloth.
"No." An expected answer.
"A shame, music is probably one of the only things I'll always appreciate." I dust off the piano. "The piano, in particular, brings back a lot of memories. Before… Before I became what I am, my family had quite a few gifted players."
"And you?"
"Not one of them. I know the basics after years of effort. Music just doesn't click with me easily. Making it that is." I take a seat. "If you don't like my playing, you can go chill in your room."
"Play." I chuckle at her one-word answer.
"Fine, fine." What to play? Something classical? Something basic or fast? Actually, I went out of my way to learn the piano versions of a few songs a while back. Should play one of those. Nodding to myself, I do a few quick test key presses, seemingly still in tune.
And so, I play Guns and Roses on the piano. Filling the room with the opening keys of November Rain.
[spoiler=here song[MEDIA=youtube]W-24y0qcIPk/MEDIA/spoiler]
It's not as smooth as I had hoped it would be. But it's not bad either. Apparently, I haven't fully rusted over in a month of not playing. Still, wouldn't hurt to play more often.
"What was that?" Laura asks from her place standing beside me. If it was the old me I would have been surprised, fully lost in playing as I had been. But the current me isn't surprised at all. I knew exactly when she got off the couch near the beginning of the song and walked over to listen more closely.
"November Rain. A song by Guns and Roses. A hard rock band. They use a piano in the song, I just found a version that's entirely piano and learned it." I explain to her as I close the piano.
"Why did you?" She asks after a moment.
"My mother and I were big fans of the band. Her last words to me were the name of one of their songs." I shake my head. "I wish you had more time to form connections like that. Or the opportunity. Hopefully, you still can." Laura doesn't say anything. And I realize I got caught in a weird mood. "Sorry, got a bit too sentimental there. Just ignore me for now. Must have been the bourbon."
"Don't be." I turn my head to face her again. Laura seems to be struggling for words but powers through all the same. "Don't be sorry. Family. It's important." Hearing this from the girl who thinks she's just some clone is a real kick in the gut. Especially the slightly bitter look on her face.
"Not sure if you'll believe me, Laura. But you aren't a clone." She looks at me blankly. "You're Sarah and Logan's daughter. She didn't clone Wolverine, she made a child with his DNA. You have a soul." Best rip this bandaid off now. I've been putting it off for too long.
Laura doesn't say anything. She just stares at me. No, not at me, her eyes are glazed over, a faraway expression in them.
Then I see a drop travel down her cheek. Followed by another. Fuck. I am not prepared for this. "Let's get you to your room, yeah?" At my words, she nods vacantly, tears still streaming down her face. Normally I wouldn't care. But it's Laura, Laura deserves love and affection. And unfortunately for her, that's not something I can do.
So I helped her to her room and let her cry by herself. Rather callous, yes. Would I do anything to change that? No, I don't see a point in it. I said what I had to, Laura can heal and get better on her own time. At the end of the day, I'm returning the favour to her father while trying to relieve some of the guilt from what I did to her.
Regardless, I have shit to do. So while I'm in a productive sort of mood, I make my way to my office and boot up my laptop. My business runs off of information, so I need to make sure I have that information to sell. Contacts throughout the city and a few other countries share things that can be of interest. Coasting off of my meta knowledge only gets so far. While I'm working on that, I take a moment to follow up on a pet project. A contingency, if you will.
Violet Lightner, an orphan with nothing special about her. Bad depression and a fear of spiders. I had people stationed on the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco for around two years. And when she showed up, it put another safety net under my feet. My guys prevented her from jumping and marked where she was going to jump from. Something to keep in my back pocket if shit ever hits the fan bad enough. The girl herself I got into counseling, gave her a job, and let her go to a good school. It's the least I can do for profiting off of her suicide attempt.
And she's doing good. I gave her what she needed to succeed and she's using it. People can only improve their lives if they want to improve it. She could have just as easily done nothing and lived comfortably if she so wished to. I'd have given her money if she didn't want everything else. My musings are broken by a rather sudden notification. One labeled priority.
One of my contacts found Miles Warren.
Now that. That is very good news. Now who should I send for recovery? Do I even trust anyone enough for this? No. It's better I do it myself. Before I can put anything into action, I feel someone enter my range, then leave it just as quickly. Above me, over the ship. I had almost killed them on instinct. It was someone in a dress suit, I think? Still, coming to me this late in the evening doesn't bode well from my experiences. Could be they were just flying past. I'd be happy if that was the case. Best to check it out regardless. I close my laptop and stand up from my desk, stretching out my arms. Hell, I've been sitting still for too long. A quick walk around the boat then going to sleep seems like a good idea. It would have been a good idea If I hadn't found the guy in the suit in my rec room. Fuck. I wearily make my way down the hall, and I'm not sure what to feel when I see the guy pouring himself a drink at my bar. "Help yourself, I guess." I end up saying blandly.
"Don't worry, I will. Good taste Ross, didn't take you for a Cabernet kind of guy." He swirls the glass of a deep red wine. Said bottle I only had on a whim. A whim related to the man himself.
"I'm not. I stole that one on the way out of your place when you kicked me out."
"And people call me a prick. Never change, Ross. Actually, no, change would only be good for you." He takes a sip from his glass.
"Thought you were ignoring me, Tony." I ask Tony Stark. Breaking and entering only matters to poor people, apparently.
"I was. But now I'm pissed off. Being publicly humiliated tends to do that, Ross."
"You know, some people pay for that. You should be happy you got it for free." I say with a shrug. It's very likely this is about the Thor thing. The news had a field day with that one. Tony takes a sip of his wine, puts the glass on the counter, and tries throwing a wild right hook to my face. Easily telegraphed, so backstepping is a simple matter.
"Let me fucking hit you, you asshole!"
"No! Fuck off!" I shout back as I dodge his punches.
"Just one, a black eye and you're good!"
"I don't fucking want a black eye!"
"Stomach bruise is fine too! I'm not picky!" I dodge another swing, then suddenly feel a metal hand clamp down on my arm. Oh, this fucker. He redesigned the fucking suit! I block his next hit with my free arm, then his suit grabs said arm.
"You bitch!" I growl at him. Tony goes for another punch so I kick him in the shin.
"Gah fuck! Now it's two!" He goes for a straight right at my face, I barely manage to dodge, but when I do I immediately headbutt his arm as hard as I can. "Jesus! You fight like a wild animal for fucks sake."
"Take the loss like a man, Stark." I smirk at him as he rubs his arm with a pained look.
"Better idea." I feel my arm being moved by the metal grip around it, and he slams it into my own stomach. Air escapes my lungs and a deep pain spreads through my gut. Fucker didn't hold back in using my limb as a bludgeon. "Hey Ross, quit hitting yourself. It looks unsightly."
"Fuck. You." Wheezing a bit I glare at him. My asthma hasn't acted up in a long while but it makes being winded so much worse. I glare at the overly smug man, and then something enters my range, and she's moving fast. "Laura, stop!" I hastily shout as the smug Tony looks significantly less smug with a pair of metal claws next to his throat.
"Let. Him. Go." She grinds out through clenched teeth. I spot a bead of sweat go down Tony's forehead.
"Uh, easy there. No need to bring pointy objects into this." Tony gives a nervous chuckle.
"Laura. Enough." I try again.
"I said. Let him go." She ignores me.
"I didn't get my second hi-" She brings the claws closer to his throat. "I can live without it." The metallic grip leavs my arms. And with some effort, I manage to stand up properly.
"New suit?"
"New girl with metal claws?"
"Touché. Asshole." I scowl at him.
"Takes one to know one." He quips back.
"Shorty, put the claws away, please." She growls, not sure at who for that one. But she still complies, quickly backing away from Tony. Tony himself wipes his brow with his left sleeve.
"The hell is your skull made out of, Ross?"
"Spite." He snorts at that.
"So Laura, pleasure to meet you. Name's Tony Stark, you've heard of me."
"Ego, Stark, it's showing." I roll my eyes.
"Who hasn't heard of me?"
"You're loud." Laura scowls at him. Tony looks stumped at that.
"Not what I was expecting, but what am I if not adaptable?"
"A massive cunt?"
"I'm starting to believe the spite thing. Relax, Ross. Our fight was two minutes ago, and it's over. I won, of course."
"My bodyguard's claws to your throat would say otherwise."
"So that's who she is." Tony snaps his fingers. "Bit on the short side, but that's not an issue if she can just stab people. Hey kid, you want a job at SHIELD?"
"At least wait for me to leave the room before trying to poach my bodyguard."
"No." Laura denies regardless. Didn't think she would accept that anyway. Still, this childish banter has gone on long enough.
"What do you want, Tony? I refuse to believe you came here just to punch me in the face." I ask him, taking a seat on a stool.
"It kind of was the only reason. You told me to apologize to Thor. That didn't stop him from kicking my fucking ass." Tony scowls. "And I was already pissed at the last thing you told me still."
"Ignoring me calling you an orphan." Tony glares at me. "I suggested you apologize for the Thor bot. Never said he'd accept your apology."
"It was implied."
"What part of 'You should apologize to the living thunder god for desecrating his image' implied he'd not be pissed off?" I ask, Tony grumbles a bit at that. "Look, I have a way for you to get back in his good graces but It'll cost something."
"It always fucking does." Tony takes another stool, and grabs his wine glass, downing the rest of it. "Talk, Ross." As he demands it, Laura walks over and stands by my side. While Tony's armour takes that as some form of posturing and walks to his.
"I need you to deal with a scientist. The Jackal, Miles Warren."
"He's dead." Tony scoffs.
"He very much isn't. And I just found him. I was going to deal with him personally, but that's too much of a hassle. So here's what I'm asking; deal with Warren, save the dude named Ben Reilly and give him my details."
"Who's Reilly?"
"No one important."
"Bullshit." Tony denies but doesn't ask about the Scarlet Spider any further. "And I'm not lifting a finger until I have whatever you're selling." He crosses his arms.
"What? Don't trust me?"
"Hell no."
"Understandable. Fine. We'll do this your way." I pinch the bridge of my nose. Fucker knows me too well. At least I know he won't fuck me over. "Thor is resurrecting the Asgardian souls in Earth people, which you probably already know." I start.
"Yeah, I got that much." He makes a go-on expression with his left hand.
"His lover, Sif. She didn't wake up during that little lightning storm he did."
"Wouldn't call that little." Tony scoffs again.
"Anyways, she didn't wake up cuz Loki is pulling a fucky wucky. He has Sif trapped in a terminal cancer patient. Mrs Chambers, didn't get a first name, and I don't know what hospital. It's one in New York as little as that narrows it down. What does narrow it down, however, is that it's the hospital Jane Foster works at." I explain and Tony nods in understanding.
"It's underhanded, but it will work. Fine, Ross. I'll take care of your Jackal problem." Tony stands up, he then opens his suit, and steps inside. It closes quickly, the mask closing with an audible clack. I feel Laura tense up beside me, instincts that Tony's very much a threat. "Keep your nose clean. Well, as clean as you can with all the shit you shove it into."
"Whatever could you mean? I'm an honest man, Stark." I spread my arms out.
"If I find out Carol relapsed, I'll make you break your own leg." He states. Laura's claws come out. But I put a hand on her wrist, not grabbing her, just trying to ease her a little. I think it works even. Maybe.
"Tony, I'm an asshole, yes. But even I have standards." Intentionally fucking over someone who's willing to put up with my dumbassery, isn't something I see myself doing. Or I like to believe that anyway.
"Good. I'll be in touch." He nods his armoured face, then steps outside and rockets off into the night.
Well. I can honestly say tonight was full of surprises. Some good. Most bad. And I wasn't drunk enough for any of them. Time to salvage the night. I turn to the still rather tense Laura, who is watching Tony turn into a dot on the horizon. "Hey, now that you're up, let's watch Shrek Two."
She turns her eyes to mine, and I'm not sure what expression that's supposed to be. "Okay." She nods in agreement.
/
The real lesson here is that Shrek is inevitable.