Guided by Jarvis through the extravagant Malibu mansion, Scarlett was too preoccupied by her racing thoughts to notice its beauty. Why did she let herself get so worked up? She wasn't the type to lose her cool so easily! Especially not to someone like Tony Stark.

She kept flipflopping on her opinion of him. On one hand she knew what had once been true about him. An unforgiving slut, a frivolous, irresponsible snob, a childish brat. But there was also the man she'd met downstairs. Yes, still an unrelenting flirt, but he didn't seem deceitful when it came to MedCo. He knew what she knew about them. That and he was smart. Crazy smart. And handsome.

Playing with the end of her hair again she only stopped when Jarvis spoke.

"You have walked past the guest room, Miss Damien."

"Oh." Scarlett stopped and felt sheepish. Her feet hurt. Her body hurt. She wanted desperately to crawl into a comfortable bed, close her eyes, and never get back up. She turned around and stopped at the door closest to her. "This one?"

"Yes, Miss Damien."

She opened the door and stepped into the room, closing it behind her. Her jaw dropped. It was beautiful. Even if she didn't want to admit it, he had remarkable taste. For some reason she thought it would be tacky there. Exquisite, thoughtful abstract artwork hung on the walls that were a soft grayish blue. The wall behind the large, plush bed was black and lights hung on either side of the bed with a painting between them. The bed itself was covered with comfortable pillows and layers of blankets of the finest quality. The latest technology was provided too. A place to charge electronics. A slot in the wall opposite of the bed opened up and a television slid out, replacing a painting that had been there previously.

Below the television was a sleek dresser and then alongside the bed there was some space, then a couch, a chair, and several bookshelves and a table alongside each piece of seating. She rested her hand on her chest again nervously. Just beyond the television, in the corner was a doorway that branched right into a bathroom and left into a walk-in closet. There were a few dresses hanging in there, presumably belonging to Pepper.

Scarlett walked back into the bedroom. The wall alongside the doorway was lined with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. It was eerily beautiful. She couldn't help but think that she'd retire someday in a place just like this. Why did they have to have so much in common? It made her ill at ease.

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom along with all the amenities you might need. If there is something else you require do not hesitate to ask." Jarvis interrupted the confused silence. "Shall I start the water for your shower, Miss Damien? All hot water is on demand so there's no worry about running out."

Scarlett let her fingers brush over the fine linens on the bed. She hadn't slept in a bed in weeks. Her face was hot again and she fought it off. What was wrong with her? None of this was like her.

She started to wonder what she did to deserve such a luxurious space. Nothing she'd done deserved it. Scarlett turned in place and looked around.

"Yes, please, Jarvis. Thank you." Scarlett looked down at the end of her hair in her fingertips. It was filthy and too long now. She needed a trim desperately. Nothing felt real. She needed a reality check, something to wake her up from this confusion. This haze. "Make it hot. I haven't had a shower in… well, since June." Scarlett looked at the digital calendar on the window.

August 16th.

She'd missed her birthday. Ah, well. She had never celebrated much anyway. Scarlett walked toward the bathroom and searched for a lightswitch but the lights came on by themselves. She didn't know how to feel about having her small everyday tasks eliminated. She'd gone from living in a dark basement prison with no amenities to living in a guest room that was ten times the size of where she'd come from. It was a startling adjustment, one she was surprised she was struggling with.

The floor was a gray slate. She kicked off her old sneakers and peeled off her socks and the cold floor felt comforting. But she felt it heating up and silently thanked Jarvis. Her feet were miserable and swollen. She walked inside and stopped to admire the shower on her immediate left behind a glass wall. Hot water rained from the ceiling. There were more jets along the wall and a little bench within. Just to the right of the shower hung a plush robe on a hook and there were several more hooks to hang clothing and robes. To the right of that were towels on a tiered shelf along with a variety of products.

But the real piece in the bathroom was a large tub, with space enough for two, with jets and Scarlett could guess it would heat itself too. It lay on a bed of stone and the wall behind it was glass, with the illusion of a rainforest beyond it. Like it was some space at a luxury resort in the jungle. The toilet was in a separate space off to the right of the entryway and to the left of that door was a floating countertop with a deep sink and a large mirror. A round stool sat off to the side next to a space setup much like a vanity.

"Answer something for me, Jarvis." Scarlett didn't know how to be. This was all too much.

"How can I help you, Miss Damien?" Scarlett closed the door to the bathroom and locked it. She leaned against it and felt paranoid.

"You're the security system, right?"

"You assume correctly. Do you have security concerns?"

"...are there cameras in every room of the house?" It was easier to ask if the bathroom was monitored than to search. She would do so anyway, but she had a feeling Jarvis wasn't programmed to deceive people.

"Yes, Miss Damien, there are camera functions within every room of the house including this room and restroom. That being said, while they are occupied by guests the cameras are disabled. There is a panel within the bedroom that allows you to see access, if you would like proof."

"In case of a break in, right? When it's unoccupied."

"Precisely."

"At least there's that." Scarlett sighed with relief. After a quick sweep of the bathroom she unzipped the borrowed dress, folded it, and set it aside. It was too tight in all the wrong places. She and Pepper were not similar shapes.

In the mirror she didn't look as dreadful as she felt after months in captivity. She was thinner and had lost a considerable amount of muscle but otherwise she looked okay. But even though she saw herself staring back at her, she was disgusted. She'd let Scott die. She was in this luxurious mansion while Scott was rotting in an unmarked grave.

Her stomach churned. She turned away, unwrapped her wounds and tossed the gauze. Then she walked into the shower and closed her eyes as the spray of hot water washed over her. It'd been so long that she nearly collapsed into tears. She curled up on the floor as the water washed over her, watching it until the water finally ran clear of the dirt and muck from two months of work.

Grasping her hair, she trembled from head to toe beneath the water and closed her eyes tight. She tried to shut her mind up, to get it all to stop. Why was it all catching up to her now? Why? Every wound on her body stung beneath the water and it was a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

It wasn't like this was the most traumatic thing she'd ever gone through.

It was up there though.

Scarlett had only taken the job with MedCo because she'd been so badly injured on her last job that Scott was afraid she would die doing her work. A job in the Middle East had gone bad. She'd been captured and tortured. She grasped her hair and whined. "Come on." She muttered in frustration with herself. She'd bounced back, dammit! She suffered for a few weeks during physical therapy and then she bounced back.

She was fine.

Scarlett was perfectly fine.

She stared at the wall of the shower.

Scott had convinced her to apply for a steady position as an engineer for MedCo and she'd done it to placate his fears. It was a private contract that would last four months. It'd gone sour so quickly. And now Scott was dead.

Scarlett stood back up and forced herself to shower, but her hands were shaking as she brushed over wounds and scars. She couldn't stop seeing it in her head. The explosion. Then the torture in the Middle East. She was buried against the wall now, shaking.

"Miss Damien? Your heart rate is dangerously high. Should I call for help?"

Scarlett nearly leapt out of her skin at the sound of Jarvis. She covered herself up instinctively and looked around the bathroom, confused.

"I'm fine."

She wasn't fine. Something had broken in her head. She'd never felt like this before. What was she supposed to do?

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Thank you, Jarvis."

He'd woken her from her panic. She finished cleaning up, turned off the water, and then grabbed a towel from the rack. She dried herself off, careful of her wounds. Scarlett had brought this on herself. All of it. Eventually she would have to express her gratitude for a chance to be clean. To hide in a shower.

She didn't have time for this trauma response, whatever it was. There was too much at stake. Too much to do. She had to focus. What would Scott tell her to do? He'd tell her it was her fault too. That she was lucky she had him to love her and take care of her because no one else would put up with this. Oh, how right he was. She sat on the stool in the towel, letting her leg rest. It was steadily throbbing.

But then Scott would tell her to forgive Tony Stark. There was no way to know if he was sincere or not from there. But Scott was dead. And she'd been a prisoner for months. Somehow she'd wound up in Tony Stark's home. A place where she could get proof. And she wouldn't hold him to judgment until she had proof either way.

She saw through Tony's sarcastic, perverted mask immediately. He was a man trying to do good but he was just as lost as she was. He'd gone through a major trauma and he was doing everything he thought he should to make up for it and give his life meaning. Maybe she was giving him too much credit.

But how was she going to get proof? His security system was so high tech she wasn't sure she'd be able to find a way into it. Scarlett was good with technology, but was she this good? She honestly wasn't sure.

No, she could do it. The hard part would be getting the time to have access to it without being spied on by both Tony and Jarvis. She would have to learn how to disable Jarvis, just for a few hours. And Tony Stark had an all too obvious weakness. Women. Sex. And she could use that against him. Of course she could.

But was she really willing to sleep with him to get what she needed? Was she willing to debase herself in the name of a man she hadn't even loved? Scarlett wasn't sure. Then again, she was incredibly attracted to Tony. It's not like it would be hard to fall into his arms. He obviously wanted it. And if she made him feel as used as he made countless women in the past feel, then he probably deserved that too.

She would find a way to get past Jarvis, copy system files, and find proof of his innocence or guilt. She played with the ends of her hair again, near her chest. It was one thing for Scarlett to use her feminine wiles to her advantage, it was another thing to sleep with someone to do it. She'd never compromised herself like that before. She'd never had to. Her face had always done the trick alone.

She would leave it as a last resort. But she would stick to the plan for now. Find proof one way or another. Try not to sleep with Tony Stark if she could help it.

Scott would be disgusted with her if he could see her now. She looked at her reflection in the mirror as the steam faded. Scott was dead. It didn't matter what he would think of her. A closet door slid open next to the toilet room and she smiled as she saw lines of skin and hair products, along with the tools to style them with.

"You're amazing, Jarvis." She really meant it too. He was an incredible piece of technology.

"You are very kind, Miss Damien."

Scarlett wondered if Tony would regret his welcomeness to the woman he found in the desert. Why did she hope she'd find him innocent? Scarlett went about dealing with her hair, her skin, and drying herself off. She wished she had clean panties and a bra, but that was a problem for later. She could go without panties, but the bra wasn't optional.

Once she was dried and cared for, she would ask for help with her wounds.

Tony browsed through records Jarvis brought up. There was no information on Scarlett Damien except for a single arrest record in Germany from nearly a decade earlier. From the pictures, it was definitely her. Pretty as ever, though her hair was considerably shorter then. Finally something. It was better than nothing.

He'd begun to think she was a figment of his imagination. Even the arrest record had very little information. She ultimately paid a fine and charmed her way out of further repercussions. In German. Impressive. He was kind of looking forward to holding this information over her head. Maybe he was a little bitter after she'd shown him up at his own game. Something he'd been working on for months she'd suddenly just solved? Ridiculous.

That and Pepper forcing him to consider a partnership instead of the incredibly generous job he'd offered her. Why did it bother him so much? Because Pepper was right? Scarlett was qualified. She'd proven it within five minutes. Or maybe it was the fact that he was a little lost himself. His draw to Scarlett wasn't the typical he felt when he brought a girl home. Or when he used to. It'd been ages since he did that.

"Not what we were expecting, was it?" Jarvis interrupted after Tony sighed when the search wrapped up with no other results. He slammed his fist on the desk with a sigh.

"What makes you think that?" Tony grumbled. "There has to be more than that. She was born at some point, right? College? Work?"

"Just the drunk and disorderly from a barfight near the airport in Germany, sir." Jarvis repeated. Apparently Scarlett had slammed a glass into the face of a man who had grabbed her ass and tried to force himself on her. By all accounts the man deserved it. Even Tony didn't stoop that low.

"Feels like it's not the whole picture." Tony crumpled up the story and tossed it into the trashcan.

"Sir, there is another police report from London. A similar charge. She paid a fine and did a few months of community service." Jarvis brought up the file for him to see.

"How the hell doesn't she have birth records? Medical records? Vaccination records? Financial records? Come on!" Tony found it unlikely that there was no real record of her. How frustrating. There were other records under the name Scarlett Damien. Tons. It wasn't an uncommon name. But none of those were this Scarlett Damien. None of them were his Scarlett Damien.

Now that was a fascinating thought. Probably a deep look into his own disturbed psyche.

"I don't know, sir. It seems you do not have all the information required to properly track our Scarlett Damien."

"Oh, don't do that." Tony looked above him. "Dangerous, slippery slope."

"Yes, sir."

"It must be an alias." Tony took a long sip of his protein shake.

"I did not detect any deceit in her reveal of her name, sir. That and why would she give a fake name that had arrests tied to it?"

"It has to be…"

"Sir…"

"Yeah, well maybe she's an incredible liar." Tony interrupted and spun in his chair, staring at the table where he'd kept Scarlett. He'd found so little information on her. She'd said there wasn't a name for what she did. But what was it that she did? A little of everything? Tony couldn't fault her for having a little criminal history. He had a much longer history of criminal behavior than she did.

The internet was filled with records of his bad behavior over the years.

He missed when she was lying unconscious on the table.

Not because she was awake and confusing now. Because he had been taking care of her. When she was struggling, he sat by her side and she'd calmed down. He'd taken care of her wounds. Wiped her feverish forehead. She'd become a comforting presence without meaning to. His basement felt empty without her.

He ran his fingers through his hair. Tony didn't like taking care of people. That was obvious to everyone and anyone. He shifted uncomfortably as he considered that maybe he did.

The man with everything and nothing.

Tony scoffed at himself and turned, fiddling with a stress ball from his desk. He hadn't told anyone about those words. The words that Yinsen had spoken to him in captivity. A complete stranger saw right through him. Without the money and power Tony had nothing and no one.

He tossed the stress ball in his hands.

"Bring up the MedCo records. The ones we salvaged."

Jarvis obeyed his command and Tony scrolled through the limited information. It felt like the thousandth time he'd done it in days. He was looking for commissioned projects but most of the files were vague nonsense. They were working on development. Wow, how specific. There was financial information. But it was all vague too. These files were doctored. Another mask to hide the company's nefarious dealings.

"Sir, I have found a few more police reports involving our Scarlett Damien. Unfortunately, they are similar to the cases we have already found." Jarvis reported after moments had passed.

"Copy them to the hard drive for me to look at later. Put them in her folder. Change the folder's name appropriately."

"The video too, sir?"

"Don't talk about that." Tony gritted his teeth. "Yes, the video too." He said quietly. Jarvis complied.

The computer remained quiet while Tony read through the MedCo files again. Finally, Tony dismissed the files and then put his head in his hands, messing up his already messy hair. Then he stared into space, hand over his mouth, caressing his thumb over the stubble of his goatee.

"Something on your mind, sir?"

"Besides the obvious?" Tony leaned back in his chair and tapped his foot. "She's a mystery, Jarvis."

"Is she, sir?"

"I know she was working for MedCo. It's the one thing I'm sure of. But I can't find a damn record of what they do. I just know they're tied to a wealth of attacks since the nineties. That and Stane was selling them my weapons. This file doesn't line up with what we know. I think they gave us the run around again, Jarvis. These files are meant to throw us off their trail. They're smarter than I gave them credit for."

"That is a possibility, sir."

"An increasingly likely possibility." Tony sat up straighter. "How doesn't she have any records? I can't even find a phone number."

"It is a true mystery, sir."

"Why is she so resistant to talking about Africa? She was obviously being held captive. Just look at her! Beautiful, yes, but she's malnourished, her vitals were terrible, she's bruised and battered. I'm an ally. Why doesn't she see that?" Tony grimaced. "Shouldn't she want to help me? I don't get it."

"I have a theory, sir."

"Go ahead, Jarvis. I'm open to anything. Except for Pepper's advice." Tony had flirted wildly with her in a way that he hadn't flirted with anyone. But it wasn't like him to behave like this anymore. Of course, he kept up a reputation for quick wit and keen observation. He never passed up the opportunity to compliment a beautiful woman or enjoy their company. But this was different.

"Sir, is it possible that after being held captive for what I can predict is a long period of time she is experiencing some trauma related stress? Between the malnourishment and physical ailments she's suffered, perhaps she is not eager to help you because she is suffering."

"You think that woman has PTSD?" Tony furrowed his brow. And how the hell did Jarvis know how long she'd been there? "You saw her, Jarvis. She was more than capable of handling herself. She's feisty. If anyone could handle a little trauma? It's her. She's cold and calculating. You can't tell me that she's frightened."

"I was suggesting no such thing, sir. You too were held captive for some time. It would be impossible to deny that it has not changed you. Deeply at that. All I'm suggesting is that we do not know how anyone else may handle such a traumatic experience."

"I guess." Tony knew that was true. He still had nightmares about it. Not only had his old partner been selling weapons under his nose, he'd also had him setup to be killed. But the would be murderers had kidnapped him and held him for ransom instead.

The man who had everything and nothing.

He didn't want to be that man anymore. But now he was Iron Man. He had that, sure. But what else did he have? Looking around his basement it didn't feel like much.

Sometimes he still felt phantom pains of the attack. His fingers brushed unconsciously over the reactor in his chest. God, he could use a drink.

"So what are you suggesting? The trauma has kept her from opening up?"

"I can't imagine it is easy to trust anyone after being held prisoner."

Tony knew that was the truth.

"It's worth considering." Tony looked toward the glass door and wondered how he could convince her that they were on the same team.

"From what we witnessed, it sounds like this captivity was volatile. Perhaps all she needs is time. How often are you willing to speak of your traumatic experiences, sir?"

"So, her attitude is… her way of coping? And me harassing her is just making it harder?" Tony grumbled. Damn, Jarvis was right. He should have seen it earlier.

"Yes, sir."

"Why is it you saw this and I didn't?" Tony laughed in disbelief. He saw the extent of her wounds. He had kept track of her malnutrition and done his best to help while she was out of it. He'd watched her sleep. He should have seen it.

"You were distracted, sir."

"I'd high five you if I could, Jarvis." Tony chuckled. If Jarvis was right about the stubborn vixen then he couldn't just strongarm her into cooperating. And if she was struggling with trauma after captivity, well, that was something they had in common. "The last thing she'll want is more trouble. Who knows what happened there? Or how long it was? Or why she was there in the first place? Or how she even wound up there?" Tony grimaced. He didn't like the idea of something awful happening to her. It made him uncomfortable for reasons unknown to him.

This would be far less simple than he hoped. He'd have to be compassionate. But he could be. If anyone understood, it was him. Was this how people felt when he was being an ass? How Pepper felt when he was going through it after his return home? Confused as how to help him?

"The first thing I'd wanted after coming home was a cheeseburger." Tony laughed at the memory. Not even a good cheeseburger. He'd wanted a shitty cheeseburger from a fast food place. It might take him his whole life to cope with the things he'd gone through. How long had it been since she'd had a proper meal? A proper drink? Even a shower might soften her up.

"And a press conference." Jarvis added.

"Yeah, I had a lot of time to think about the evils I'd committed." Tony scowled.

"You've done remarkably well since then, sir."

"Sometimes I think you're capable of more feeling than I programmed you to, Jarvis." Tony smirked. "So, what made you realize she was suffering, huh?"

"Observation of her vitals, sir. Her heart rate is unsteady. It keeps spiking. I do not think it is caused by a medical condition. I think she is experiencing fear."

"At least it wasn't something incredibly obvious." Tony was relieved. "Clean this mess up for me, huh?" Tony gestured to his desk. Then he took the stairs two at a time, silencing Pepper with a wave of his hand as he walked past her.

"Tony."

"Not now, Potts. Busy." Tony hurried up the steps behind the waterfall display in his foyer and then walked toward the guest room he knew she was using. Not bothering to knock, Tony entered the room. Much to his disappointment, he could still hear her in the bathroom, finishing up.

"Jarvis, let me know when she's done." Tony whispered, picking up one of the catalogs that Pepper left for Scarlett.

"Yes, sir. Shall I warn her that you're out here?"

"Nope. More fun this way." Tony flipped through the catalogs which were incredibly boring. At least they were until he started imagining the clothing on Scarlett. "You know what? Bring up the website. Let's pick out some nice things for Scarlett. Make her feel welcome."

"Yes, sir."

Tony browsed online and ordered things in Scarlett's size, a thing he could easily guess just by looking at her. He'd help take care of her wounds when she was finished. "While you're at it have Pepper bring my first aid kit up here, okay?"

"Yes, sir."