Avengers in Ketterdam

What Business?

The sharpshooter who had trained his guns on them earlier took a spot on Dirtyhands' left, leaning against the wall and absentmindedly stroking his revolvers. Tony saw Nat watching everyone oddly, categorizing their movements. Quietly taking count of their slight cues.

A rich looking boy plopped in another chair near the sharpshooter, messing with some trinket in his hands.

The gorgeous woman laid herself in a third chair, draping herself like a blanket. Tony could admit she was beautiful, she carried herself like a goddess. Honestly, with her looks, as she should.

The off-brand Kristoff from Forzen stood over the woman protectively as if he was a guard dog. The woman had found some sort of pastry on the way to the Slat and happily devoured it.

"So, what business?" Dirtyhands asked, his rasp worse than before and with a threatening edge.

Strange stepped forward, the dangerous man behind the desk watched him closely.

"My name is Doctor Steven Strange. I am from another universe and we're just here for some information."

Dirtyhands kept his face blank. He sat poised like a panther, seemingly relaxed but ready to strike at a moments notice.

"May I know who I'm dealing with first?"

"As I said, my name is Doctor Strange," Steven said slowly.

Strange motioned to Tony. "This is Tony Stark."

"Or Genius. Or Billionaire. Or playboy, philanthropist works too." Tony piped up helpfully. The group before him gave him odd looks as if they didn't know what those words meant in the slightest.

Tony motioned to his boyfriend. "This is All-American Boy. Sorry, Steve Rogers. Captain America and all."

Dirtyhands simply flicked his eyes among the people as they introduced themselves.

Steve introduced Nat, she introduced Clint.

Clint elbowed Bucky.

"This is—"

Barnes tore to the front of the group. Tony had seen the man uncomfortable the entire way here. Sympathy slinked it's way into the billionaire's heart. Barnes was probably having a hard time, feeling like the forced soldier again by being led around and captive.

"Who the fucking hell are you?" Asked Bucky, pointing a gloved finger towards Dirtyhands accusingly. Tony could practically see the challenging look in Dirtyhands' eye and prayed Bucky didn't think of HYDRA. Bucky dropped his arm to his side and stood with a cold fuming anger.

"Is that a metal arm???" The sharpshooter chimed from behind Dirtyhands. The sharpshooter moved forward but Nat pointed a gun towards Jesper threateningly.

"—that's Bucky." Said Clint defeatedly.

Bucky looked down at his arm and it dropped, clearly a fake had been put in its place.

"And where the fuck and a half is my arm??" Where his metal arm should have been was simply an empty socket now. The fake fell to the floor with a dull thunk.

Dirtyhands rolled his eyes and everyone's attention was reigned with something heavy dropped on the desk.

"You mean this arm? You should be careful who you threaten Mr.Barnes." The mysterious man asked slightly impatiently. A gold and black arm sat on the desk, looking utterly out of place.

Steve and Clint were standing open mouthed. Tony joined them when it really caught up in his mind. Nobody. Nobody stole Bucky's arm. Not even Rocket had managed that.