Chapter Text
“What?”
“I said-“
“I heard what you said,” Tony Stark interrupted. “And the answer is no.”
Nick Fury raised an eyebrow.
“There wasn’t a question involved, Tony,” he said. “I’m not asking you if you want to have a bodyguard, I’m telling you that I’ve assigned you one.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“With the new chatter that we’ve been hearing from HYDRA? Yes. You do.”
The older man’s implacable expression made Tony scowl, well aware that he was one of the few people in the world that wouldn’t back down to him. It was annoying.
“For how long?”
“Until I say otherwise.”
“Nick, I can’t have a bodyguard.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m Ironman, for fuck’s sake. Ironman doesn’t need a bodyguard.”
“You’re also Tony Stark,” Fury reminded him. “And Tony Stark does.”
“Don’t worry Tony,” Natasha told him, having been silently watching the exchange up until that moment. “We found someone who is perfect.”
Stark didn’t look – or feel – at all mollified.
“Perfect, huh? I doubt that.”
She smirked, and tapped her ear, where Stark knew there was a communications bud. A moment later there was a knock on the door to Tony’s office, and a young man walked in. He was slightly built, wearing the dark suit that all SHIELD agents seemed to be so fond of and he looked like he was sixteen. The young man looked Tony over while walking to stand by Romanoff.
“Tony Stark, meet Peter Parker.”
“Are you kidding me?” Tony asked, incredulous. “He’s a SHIELD agent?”
“One of the best up and comers that we have,” Fury confirmed. “Don’t let his age fool you. Peter’s something special.”
“I recruited him, myself,” Romanoff added, looking smug and amused at his reaction – as if she’d expected it. “He’s top-notch.”
“How old is he?”
“I’m twenty-one,” Peter replied. If he was offended by the reaction from the billionaire, it didn’t show in his demeanor. “And you’re my very first detail.”
Which made Tony roll his eyes.
“Where are his training wheels?”
Fury didn’t look impressed.
“Better be nice to him, Tony. He’s the one that’s going to keep you alive the next few weeks.”
“No one is going to keep me alive,” Stark replied. “I’m not being threatened, and I don’t need Doogie Howser, here, to watch over me.”
“This isn’t open for discussion,” Fury said without a trace of amusement – and that iron glare that Tony wished that he could pull off. “Agent Parker will be your shadow for the foreseeable future. He will stay at your place, go to your tower with you when you’re working, and-“
“Is going to be with me when I’m taking a piss?” Tony interrupted. “I don’t-“
“When you’re taking a piss. When you’re showering, and even when you’re soundly sleeping in your bed dreaming about little Ironman dolls, or robots, or whatever it is that you dream about those few hours that you actually sleep.”
Tony scowled, mightily, but Fury and Romanoff neither one looked as if they were going to back down, and he finally sighed, and glanced over at the young agent.
“For how long?”
“Might only be a week,” Nick told him. “Romanoff is going to leave the country and take a peek. Get an eye on what we’re looking at.”
Stark arched an eyebrow.
“One eye?”
The SHIELD director didn’t look impressed, but the corner of Romanoff’s mouth twitched.
“For that, you can help Peter move into your place.”
“What? When?”
“What are you doing right now?”
The billionaire waited to see if he was going to smile, or wink (or would it be blinking since he only had one eye?) but Fury’s expression was challenging Tony to argue, and he would argue with almost everyone – except Nick, sometimes.
Like this time.
“Fine.” He looked at Peter. “Where do you live?”
“Queens.”
“Ugh. Seriously?”
The young man smirked.
“You’re not going to have to stay there,” he reminded the older man. “But you’ll be on your best behavior, or I’ll toss you out a window.”
Stark scowled and looked at Fury.
“He’s my bodyguard? He just threatened me.”
“I’d say he’s doing a fine job of making sure you understand the dynamics of the situation,” Nick said. “Peter isn’t here to be your friend, or a gofer, or even your confidant. His job is to make sure that you’re still alive at the end of the week.”
“And if I’m not?”
Peter shrugged.
“Then I’ll have to find some other superhero billionaire to baby-sit. I wonder if Justin Hammer is hiring…”
The scowl was thunderous, now, and Romanoff snorted her amusement.
“Play nice, Peter. Tony’s having a rough morning.”
“Sorry.”
He didn’t look sorry, Tony decided, only somewhat mollified.
“What are we talking about?” he asked Fury. “Moving him in, I mean? Furniture? Crib? Supply of juice boxes?”
“Your place has a guest room?” Nick asked, ignoring the implied insult to his agent.
Peter didn’t need his boss to stick up for him, after all.
“Yes.”
“Then he won’t need any furniture, will he?”
“We’ll figure it out on the way,” Peter assured him. He looked at Romanoff. “You’ll be in touch?”
“I will, or someone will,” she replied. “Coulson is your support on this.”
“Got it.”
Nick turned to Stark.
“Any questions?”
“How much can I pay to get out of this?”
“Nothing.” The SHIELD director gave Stark an understanding pat on the shoulder. “The threat is a real one, Tony, and we need you in one piece. Listen to Peter and we’ll get you through this as soon as we safely can.”
Fury left, with Natasha right behind him, and Tony turned to his young jailor.
“Well?”
“Let’s go.”
><><><><>
The first issue came up almost immediately.
Peter led the way out of Stark’s office and then out of the building, the two of them going down the sidewalk almost three blocks through the busy pedestrian traffic. No one even noticed that it was Tony Stark walking among them, because Tony Stark never walked down the sidewalk if he could avoid it.
There was a reason that he parked in the parking garage, after all.
Peter stopped in front of a small hatchback, and the vehicle chirped in response to his thumb on the FOB. Tony frowned and looked at the car.
“I’m not riding in that.”
“What?”
“This is your car?”
“Yes.” Peter frowned, also looking at it. “What’s wrong with it?”
It was clean, and in good shape. Not brand new, but not a piece of crap, either.
“It’s plain.”
And cheap, but that went unsaid.
Peter shook his head.
“We’ll hide you better if you’re riding around in something plain. Driving through the city with a flashy car that has your name on the license plate isn’t going to keep you safe.”
“I don’t want to be safe,” Stark complained. “I want to be seen. That’s the whole point of having a flashy car with my name on the plates, isn’t it?”
Peter shrugged. It was hard to argue with that logic, now wasn’t it?
“I suppose it is. But you’ll have to wait until this blows over to be quite so visible.”
“Ugh.”
The young man smiled, and Tony thought that maybe there was a little sympathy in his very pretty eyes.
“Just get in the car, Mr. Stark. I promise you no one will ever know you were riding around in a Ford Fiesta.”
Tony rolled his eyes and with a sigh of great suffering, he went around to the passenger side and opened the door, getting in. Peter followed suit, getting behind the wheel and buckling his seatbelt. When he looked over at Tony, expectantly, the older man rolled his eyes, again, and buckled up as well.
“Do you have to call me that?”
“What?” Peter asked. “Mr. Stark?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s your name.”
“It was also my father’s name, and coming from someone as young as you, it makes me feel old.”
“Huh.” Peter shrugged and started the engine. “I could call you sir.”
“Or Tony.”
“You don’t think that would imply a degree of familiarity that doesn’t exist?”
“I think you’re going to be living in my gest room for a week,” he reminded him, scowling. “The familiarity will probably be there. Besides, I’m not calling you Mr. Parker.”
“Alright.”
It was a pretty good argument, he supposed.
“Thank you.”
As they pulled out into the traffic, Tony was quiet, debating how he wanted to handle this. He didn’t have a choice in the circumstances, obviously – Nick had made that pretty clear – but he could decide what kind of attitude he wanted to take on. Peter was new to the protection detail thing, so the kid wouldn’t know one way or the other how Tony should act. He could be stand-offish and aloof, or he could make the best of it and be a little nicer. Or somewhere in the middle.
Of course, Tony was new to the bodyguard thing, too, so he had to admit – only to himself – that he wasn’t sure how he should act. He’d seen secret service agents, of course, and they were pretty aloof with their protectees, and Tony had never seen a senator or congressman telling jokes to their detail, so he supposed that was how it was usually done.
Perversely, Tony Stark didn’t want to do things the same way as everyone else did, now did he? Why would he?
“How are you a SHIELD agent so young?” he asked as Peter wove them through the busy traffic practiced ease and competence. “I’ve seen the kids at the compound; they’re your age and still running laps and doing drills – or whatever they call it.”
“Natasha recruited me, directly,” Peter replied. “She made me her special project – I think – and I went through training pretty quickly.”
“You must be something special to have caught her eye. She’s a badass.”
The boy smiled his agreement.
“That she is.”
But he didn’t expound on what it was.
“Are you sleeping with her?”
Peter wasn’t even startled by the question – although Tony had – sort of – hoped for some sputtering, or maybe a bit of a reaction.
“No.”
“She’s pretty sexy.”
“That she is,” he agreed, again.
“Too much woman for you?”
Now he realized that he really was trying to get a reaction from the kid. Peter only smiled, though.
“Something like that.”