Battle Strategies | Tony Stark [1]

ELEVEN

It was early morning, Tony noted, as he sat nonchalantly in his Iron Man suit. A pair of sunglasses were perched on his nose, protecting his sensitive eyes from the bright and unforgiving glare of the morning sun that was beginning to filter through the few clouds in the sky. As if he hadn't a care in the world, he reached into the box full of donuts that was situated haphazardly in his lap and carelessly bit into the sweet dough.

Tony always had a sweet spot for Randy's Donuts and was the first customer of the day when he arrived and purchased the sweet products that they specialized in. He hadn't stayed in the restaurant, however, but instead, he opted to taking up residence in the large doughnut that was placed proudly on top of the restaurant, that is until he was interrupted.

"Sir! I'm gonna have to ask you to exit the doughnut."

Tony looked over his sunglasses and down at the voice that dared interrupt him and his food. He was quick to recognize the man and a feeling of dread washed over him as the man walked off. Tony watched the black trench coat blow in the breeze as the eye-patched man marched into the restaurant with a single mission in his mind. Tony let out an annoyed breath before convincing his hungover self to get down from the doughnut and enter the restaurant.

Tony felt a little better at the sight of a coffee waiting for him at a table and sat in front of it, which resulted with Fury in sitting across from him in the booth. Tony took a single gulp of the coffee and sat it back down on the table. Placing one elbow on the table, he supported his pounding head with his hand as he eyed Fury with skepticism. "I told you I don't wanna join your super-secret boy band."

Fury laughed in amusement at Tony's words, but a part of him still remained annoyed. "No, no, no. See, I remember, you do everything yourself. How's that working out for you?"

"It's- It's- It's- I'm sorry. I don't wanna get off on the wrong foot. Do I look at the patch or the eye?" Tony asked, looking over his sunglasses at the man that smiled in humor, despite wanting to be anywhere but where he currently was. "Honestly I'm a bit hungover. I'm not sure if you're real of if I'm having-"

"I am very real. I'm the realest person you're ever gonna meet." Fury warned Tony, leaning forward to emphasis his point further.

"Just my luck. Where's the staff here?" Tony demanded, looking over his shoulder and around the restaurant for any members of staff. As he did this, Fury took this opportunity to observe the palladium induced rash that had developed on Tony's neck.

"That's not looking so good." Fury commented as he pulled back the collar of Tony's suit, in attempt to get a better look at the rash.

"I've been worse." Tony mumbled quietly, not wanting to talk about his deteriorating health. Tony brought the paper cup full of coffee to his mouth, ignoring the approaching footsteps that were heading towards the table Fury and he were sitting at.

"We've secured the perimeter but I don't think we should hold it for too much longer."

The cup full of coffee quickly left his lips at the sound of the woman's voice, the familiar voice that he had gotten used to hearing most days of the week. He clumsily put down the paper cup and peers at the female agent over the top of his glasses. Once he could confirm that it was in fact Natasha, or Natalie as he knew her, he hummed in realization and then stuttered out an awkward; "You're fired."

Fury grinned happily to himself at the obvious dumbfoundness that Tony had found himself in as Natasha said her smug reply. "That's not up to you."