{ KitKat }

"Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend."

Tonya looked up with a frown. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd heard her brother say, but it came close. He'd just walked in with Captain America, who appeared troubled by something that her curiosity propelled her to find out.

The Captain frowned; apparently he'd never had fondue. "Really? I didn't think–"

"Nor should you, pal," Howard consoled him. "The moment you think you know what's going on in a woman's head is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked."

"That's probably the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say," Tonya smirked at her brother when she reached them, and Rogers nodded at her politely in greeting. "Though we do appreciate it if you at least attempt to understand us."

"Me? I concentrate on work," Rogers appeared innocently confused as to why Tonya snorted at this remark, but Howard continued as though she hadn't interrupted. "which at the moment is about making sure you and your men do not get killed."

He took Rogers through a few workbenches of defensive items and Tonya walked with them towards the one she'd been working on before they walked in; they were heading her way anyway.

"I hear you're kind of attached." she commented and she knocked on the battered patriotic shield as they passed.

Rogers nodded in admittance. "It's handier than you might think."

"We took the liberty of coming up with some options." Howard said as he and Tonya stood on one side of a bench displaying a variety of shields as Rogers stood across from them. Some of them looked more practical than others; some of them they'd admittedly enjoyed experimenting with.

"I might claim the ones you don't want for myself," Tonya admitted, admiring her and Howard's work. "This one's fun," she gestured to her personal favourite. "She's been fitted with electrical relays that allow you to–"

Rogers interrupted her as pulled out a plain circle of metal from a shelf under the workbench. "What about this one?"

Howard waved it away. "No, no, that's just a prototype."

"What's it made of?" The Captain's curiosity had evidently been piqued.

"Vibranium," Howard indulged, as Rogers experimented with the shield, trying it on for size. "It's stronger than steel and a third of the weight."

"It's completely vibration absorbent." Tonya added.

Rogers frowned. "How come it's not standard issue?"

"That's the rarest metal on Earth," Howard shrugged. "What you're holding there, that's all we've got."

"We can't go losing it," Tonya sighed. "I'd love to have some more of that stuff to work with."

"If you're quite finished, Starks," Peggy appeared and began walking towards the three of them. "I'm sure the Captain has some unfinished business."

Rogers turned to her with a smile and held up his new find. "What do you think?" Tonya wished she'd known he preferred the simple things before she spent hours crafting various super-shields, though it had been good fun.

Her indignant thoughts were interrupted when Peggy suddenly grabbed a pistol from a nearby workbench and fired four efficient shots at the shield, provoking Howard to leap back in alarm, pulling Tonya with him.

The agent sighed in satisfaction and then smiled a bit too widely. "Yes, I think it works."

She set the gun down and walked past the workbench, glancing sideway at Rogers as she went. Howard and Tonya walked around to join the stunned Captain as he stared after her.

"I had some ideas about the uniform." he said, pulling some crumpled paper from his pocket and handing it to Howard, still staring straight ahead.

Howard took it without looking at him, still slightly stunned himself. "Whatever you want, pal," he acquiesced, absently. "Though costumes are more Ton's thing."

"Er, only wearing them, thank you very much," Tonya scoffed, though she took the paper from Howard anyway. "Hm, this looks fun though."

"Speaking of costumes, I've been wondering why that agent of yours didn't insist on you joining Rogers' old song and dance act," Howard grinned and then turned to the Captain. "She mighta stolen your show, Cap."

Tonya rolled her eyes. "I've been ignoring him recently – I've got better things to do," she gestured around herself. "You know this is my true home."

Rogers still looked slightly starstruck, despite Peggy having left a solid few minutes ago, and so Tonya patted him on the shoulder. "It's her way of showing she cares about you, though don't tell her I told you that, or I'll be fearing for my life."

Howard chuckled. "You sure pick 'em, Cap. I dread the day when a girl shoots at me to show she cares."

"I'm sure it'll come soon enough." Tonya grinned.

***

"What were you thinking?!" Tonya couldn't stop herself from yelling. "Do you have any idea what this is going to do to her?"

"I tried to tell Mr Stark we should tell Miss Carter the truth, but he believed it was better this way–"

"and he told you not to tell me either, did he?" she shook her head in disbelief as Jarvis had the decency to look sheepish, though it did nothing to soothe her anger. "For goodness' sake, Jarvis, maybe just make your own decisions for once! You always seem more than happy to present your better judgement when it suits you, but you decided this was the time you'd just roll over and let Howard call the shots, was it?"

She sighed heavily, though again, her fury did not subside. "Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't you tell me? Did you really think she wouldn't work it out? She's a trained agent, Jarvis! and these are my inventions too – I'm going to realise when you're lying about one."

"It wasn't my idea to do it this way, Mr Stark–" Jarvis attempted to explain quietly, but Tonya was in no mood to listen to feeble excuses.

"Mr Stark told you no, so you just had to play along and be the good butler, hm? Well, congratulations, Jarvis – butler of the year award is coming your way!"

He winced as she groaned and leaned forwards until her head rested on the dashboard.

"Of all the stupid things that Howard does, and you go along with this one?" she sighed as she clenched her eyes shut at the thought. "It's Captain America's blood, for goodness' sake, and you've just sent Peggy Carter of all people to go and retrieve it! I didn't even think we still had our share."

Jarvis sat uncomfortably, racking his brains rapidly to try and think of something to say, something to explain that he really hadn't meant to, that he'd felt awful about this entire part of the plan since the beginning, that it had been so hard lying to Miss Carter and to her, that he was really, truly sorry. Before he could so much as begin to say all this out loud, Tonya had sat up suddenly and opening the passenger door.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you."

"Miss Stark, you can't just walk out onto the street at this time of night!"

"I can do whatever the hell I please, thank you very much," she turned around and snapped before she stomped out of the car. "You seem to do the same."

"Miss Stark, we have to wait for Miss Carter to–"

"Do you think she's going to want to talk to you after this?" Tonya raised her eyebrows. "No, she'll be making her own way back to the Griffith tonight, she doesn't need you, and neither do I." She slammed the door shut and then leaned down to add through the window. "Go home to Ana, Jarvis, you promised her you'd be back by ten; at least there's one person you won't betray tonight."

As a defeated Jarvis drove away, she began pacing furiously, attempting to work off the energy she'd much rather have screamed out of her system. The scream only got more tempting when she turned on her fifteenth lap to see none other than Jack Thompson approaching her.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" she near enough yelled.

He raised his eyebrows and held up his hands. "Nice to see you too." he said, sarcastically.

"Look, Thompson, I'm really not in the mood for another 'interview' right now." she snapped, though she made no move to walk away from him.

"That's not what I'm here for," he reasoned, but then just because she'd put the idea in his head (and the thought had been plaguing him since that witness mentioned a dark haired woman): "Though I would like to know why you may or may not have been seen at another scene involving your brother's inventions."

"'May or may not have been seen'? The S.S.R. are really getting desperate now, aren't they?" she laughed, slightly hysterically, and he glanced around to see how many heads they'd turned; on second thought, it probably hadn't been the best idea to bring this up in the middle of the street.

He began again, slightly quieter than before, hoping she'd follow suit. "Look, it was a few days ago, and I've just gotta check–"

"Well, I believe I have a solid alibi, actually." she stated suddenly, so confident that he was taken aback.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? What's that?"

"I was with you."

He frowned, trying to match it up in his head. "Actually, sweetheart, I'm pretty sure the times don't add up."

"Pretty sure? Or certain? Because I'm not having you come out here throwing accusations at me without definitive evidence, thank you – like I said, I'm very much not in the mood."

"Why? What's got you so worked up?" he tried to make it sound offhand, but he'd be lying if he said her distress wasn't concerning him. He'd seen her upset before, regrettably due to his 'interviewing', but she was like this before he'd appeared; he'd seen her from upstairs. Also, she usually toed the line of composed distress quite skilfully: at the moment, she appeared practically on the verge of tears.

"Oh, let me think," she nearly shouted again and he regretted speaking before thinking yet again. "My brother is being hunted by all of America for something he didn't do, I'm being frequently harassed by your stupid agency for it, no one tells me anything anymore, I am at the very end of my patience and you are not helping matters in the slightest. Did you come out here just to give me another reason to hate the world today or can I please try to get on with my life?"

Jack blinked slowly, and he felt, rather stupidly as he processed this whirlwind of expelled emotion. He could see she was breathing heavily, but she looked better for having got it all out. He gave her a few more seconds, watching her anxiously like she was an unexploded bomb, before taking a cautious step and holding up his hands again like a peace offering. "I was going to ask whether you needed a ride."

It was her turn to be taken aback and she paused for a second before frowning. "Excuse me?"

"A ride home," Jack clarified. "Not sure it's such a good idea for you to be prancing around the streets so late, especially when you're technically still a person of interest, and not just to the S.S.R.."

Her frown deepened and Jack braced himself for another outburst. Think before you speak: he needed that branded onto his arm as a reminder. "I can prance around wherever I please, thank you very much," Jack sighed, wondering how much persuading this was going to take – she certainly wasn't the type to give in easily. However... "But I'm tired of prancing tonight, so a ride home would be... would be allowed." He raised his eyebrows again, but she ignored him. "Aren't you supposed to be working though?" She nodded up to the phone company building looming over them and Jack shrugged.

"I'll tell them I was grabbing a sandwich," he reasoned. "Night shifts don't come entirely without freedoms."

She hummed. "I could do with a sandwich right now actually."

Jack was about to point out that he hadn't actually intended on getting a sandwich but decided it would be bad luck to break their little tradition now.

"Come on then." and before he could think better of it, he'd placed a hand behind her shoulder to guide her round to where he'd parked his car; she didn't shrug him off, so he tried not to overthink it.

***

She slouched slightly in the car, and not because she was relaxed this time. As they drove, the prospect of a sandwich seemed less appealing with the idea of getting out of the car to go and sit at a table to eat it. She'd come to like the little sandwich bar but tonight, sitting in a car where she could close the doors, roll up the windows and shut out the rest of the world seemed far more appealing.

Jack didn't seem to be a particularly observant person, and so she wondered whether he'd picked up on the vibe or whether he was simply in a similar mood when he offered to go in to order for them and then bring the sandwiches back to the car. She decided she was too tired to think about it and simply nodded appreciatively at the offer.

She thought she'd enjoy the few minutes to herself when he parked and got out to head into the sandwich bar, but she found herself feeling suddenly empty as soon as he closed the door behind him. They hadn't talked much on the way there, but his presence had filled a kind of void that had now opened up again and she felt herself slipping towards the edge.

It must have been quiet, because he reappeared about a minute later holding two smallish, oblong, paper packages. Closing the door behind him, he settled back into his seat before holding one out to her. She realised he hadn't even had to ask her order, but that wasn't why she hesitated before taking it.

"How much was it?"

Jack raised his eyebrows and pushed the sandwich the rest of the way into her hands. "Don't worry about that."

"You think I can't pay for my own sandwich, Jack? Hell, I should be paying for yours – you're doing me all the favours here."

He shook his head as he finished the mouthful he'd already began; he shouldn't be eating it so fast, he wanted this to last. "Consider it an apology from the S.S.R. for bothering you so much these past few weeks."

Tonya snorted. "To be fair, you are investigating a case that I'm heavily involved it, though it probably wouldn't have been dragged on this long if it hadn't all been blown out of proportion."

Jack decided to keep any jibes at Howard's disappearance and her jailbreak to himself; it didn't feel like the moment. Tonya didn't seem as vexed about it all as she had at the beginning. It was evidently all still bothering her, as he'd seen barely ten minutes ago when he'd found her on the street, but come to think of it, in their more recent meetings, she hadn't directed any of that frustration towards him as much as she had used to. Strangely, it had felt safer when she had, because then his replies could be strictly professional, and he'd be able to stick to the case, hidden behind a wall of defensive comments. Then again, he'd never bring that security back to replace the light-heartedness their most recent conversations had adopted.

"Besides," she went on, dragging him out of his thoughts and back down to his seat beside her. "Is it really an apology from the S.S.R. or is it an apology from you? Because if it's the latter, then I have to tell you, honey, you haven't bothered me at all."

He could name at least three occasions when he was almost certain he had bothered her, but he took the compliment, nonetheless. She'd been strangely good at silencing his usual sarcasm as of recent, and she wasn't even trying to. Settling on another shrug, he refrained from taking another bite, drawing out the comfort of the situation. He noticed she hadn't unwrapped hers yet. "Felt like I owed you something either way, and this was the first thing to come up. Besides, what do you get the girl who's got everything?"

"Sandwiches, apparently," Tonya laughed and Jack's face split into an involuntary smile at the sound. "But, as cliché as it sounds, there are some things you can't buy, no matter how much you've got, and it feels like I've been saving up for a nice sandwich and a good chat for months, so this is perfect: thank you."

It was slightly jarring, for both of them. Tonya never knew whether she did things right when it felt like time to be genuine – she utilised her dramatic skills so often she feared her authenticity was fading, but Jack's equally genuine smile stopped the boat of insecurity from rocking too vigorously and a mutually appreciated quiet settled between them.

Jack started to wonder whether Tonya had thought he'd get the sandwiches and then take her straight home, whether she'd take hers inside with her to eat and he'd head back to the office with his. They could just as easily have done so, and maybe that's what he should have done. But she hadn't asked him to drive off yet and she usually made it undoubtedly clear when she wanted something. Maybe he should just set off, she was probably waiting for him to get going, but then a quiet rustling stopped him from turning the key in the engine. Glancing at her without making it too obvious, he saw that she had unwrapped her sandwich and appeared to be content with eating it in the car: with him.

They allowed a comfortable silence to settle over them; it was the first time one of their conversations had lapsed into a proper quiet. Jack had always worried it would be awkward if something like this happened, but he found he was content with how this was playing out.

and for the first time since her life had taken a sudden plunge downwards, Tonya felt herself relax. It was all far from over, in fact, it was probably the worst it had been since it had all begun, but that didn't seem to matter right now. There was no room to worry about it in here and she felt safe from it all in this car, with her sandwich and with Jack.

As much as he wanted to draw it out, an old phrase of his mother's crept into his mind about a good time only lasting so long before it was stretched and distorted beyond its limits. He didn't want this moment to end, but he didn't want to ruin it either. Besides, it wouldn't be the last time he'd see her, he was sure.

"Right then," he started, trying to not let the reluctance show in his voice. "I am acting chief, but there's only so long I can be away before one of the guys snitches on me."

Tonya chuckled. "Acting chief? You never said. You the boss' favourite then?"

Jack grinned and gave her a wink. "I'm everyone's favourite."

She laughed and he wished he knew how to put sound on a record; he'd replay that laugh until the needle wore itself out. "Well, I suppose we can't let that change then. I should probably be getting back too."

Where Jack had a valid reason for returning, she suddenly found she had none. She'd much rather have stayed all night where they were if they could. The reminder of the bigger world existing outside their own little world in Jack's car washed over her, bringing with it a wave of realisation at how little she had left now. She'd do her best to explain, but Peggy would no doubt think she was complicit in Howard's vile plans; speak of the devil himself, she certainly would not be talking to her brother any time soon, or Jarvis for that matter, after the stunt they'd pulled; it wasn't easy to avoid Jarvis and stay around Ana simultaneously, so she would have to keep her distance from both of them for a while; she just hoped Ana wouldn't take it personally. Come to think of it, she didn't have a great deal many people in her life that truly cared about her, and right now, it seemed she had none.

Glancing at Jack, she realised he'd been staring at her with an unusually concerned look on his face. Hastily composing herself as she realised that she'd let her emotion show, she flashed him a smile. There was a slight pause and Jack looked as though he was going to say something, decided against it, and then started the car.

"Are you still staying with that butler of yours then?"

Hesitating only momentarily, she shook her head. "No, actually," she said slowly. "I'm staying elsewhere now."

***

She'd briefly considered choosing one of their furthest away residences, but decided Jack would probably never give her a ride again if she got him to drive all the way to Los Angeles. She settled for her most private, personal residence – the one she'd gone to fetch her hat from on their first trip to their sandwich bar – hoping that it would mimic the safe other-worldness that Jack's car had.

Jack had got out of the car when he'd parked, the unexpected action stopping her in her own movements to get out. It became clear, however, when he came round to her side to open the door for her and help her out. She smiled at him, reminiscent of Jarvis, and took his hand as she stepped out of the car.

"Well, here we are," he said, and Tonya paused, still stood between Jack and the car as his hand remained on the car door. She looked up at him and held his gaze for what was probably a while but didn't feel at all long enough. Eventually, Jack spoke again. "I'll walk you to the door."

She only managed a small smirk. "Very gentlemanly of you."

They walked the short way without speaking and Tonya wished she was still holding his hand. Though the quiet in the car as they ate their sandwiches had been comfortable, this silence felt more noticeable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but it wasn't pleasant either. It was the kind where each of you had a thousand things to say, but not enough time and too much pride to say them.

Tonya couldn't decide whether they reached the doorstep after far too long or far too soon but decided on the latter when she turned to face Jack for the last time that night. It had come to nearly two hours, but it had gone far too quickly.

"Thank you for driving me home." she smiled. It felt far too forced. Everything else had come so easily, why was it so hard now? Maybe it was because she wasn't saying what she truly wanted to say; neither of them were.

Jack had shoved his hands into his pockets like he often did when he didn't know what to do with himself; Tonya had picked up on this in their meetings, for some reason. She usually found it endearing; now it just felt sad.

"You're welcome."

Let me thank you properly.

"Well, goodnight."

The night's not over yet.

"Goodnight."

Jack began to head back to his car; he knew if he waited any longer, his legs wouldn't let him walk away.

Come inside.

The master key she pulled from her purse suddenly felt as though it weighed a ton. She managed to unlock the door, though it felt like a battle just to turn the key.

Keep me company for the night.

"Jack."

He'd been wrong before, he thought: this would be his last pleasant surprise of the day. He turned, probably faster than he should have, to face her again as she stood in the doorway, lingering on the threshold.

Stay with me.

"Thanks for the sandwich."

Nevermind. It seemed he'd had his share of pleasant surprises for the day. Refraining from kicking himself for expecting more, he gave her a tight smile and a nod.

"Anytime."

Tonya didn't watch him leave. It felt too hard for some reason.

It only dawned on her when she leaned against the inside of the now locked door and looked around herself at the huge, dark, utterly empty house. Anyone would have laughed at the label of emptiness, considering, like all her other houses, it was full of lavish furnishings and extravagant ornaments, but all the riches in the world couldn't have filled the immense gap Tonya now felt within herself. She only realised now how very lonely she was; how few people truly knew her; how fewer of those people she had left; how hollow the heart in her chest was; how enormously bare her home felt when there was no raucousness to fill the deafening silence; how cold her bed felt, even when she'd found someone to try and warm it up.

It felt colder than ever that night.

She should have invited him in.

Big houses weren't built for loneliness, and neither was she.

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Series Masterlist

"Elizabeth Carter, pleased to meet you, ma'am," Tonya nodded with a polite smile. "Peggy's told me all about this place; it sounds like such a homely place to live."

Miss Fry simply sniffed as Tonya's smile remained unwavering under the woman's scrutiny. She wondered whether Miss Fry remembered her from the last time someone had snuck her in as their cousin, or whether she was trying to decide whether Tonya was a man disguised as a woman – not an uncommon occurrence at this particular residence, she had been told – and she wasn't sure whether to be offended or not. Then, quite suddenly, the landlady appeared to resolve something in her mind and her expression became more kindly, though evidently false given her previous scepticism.

"Forgive me, Miss Carter, you seemed awfully familiar for a moment, but I've realised what it was now," Tonya glanced briefly at Peggy, mindfully maintaining her equally false smile as she anxiously awaited expansion on this statement. "You look almost exactly like that young actress, Tonya Stark."

She and Peggy simultaneously laughed nervously. "Do I really?" Tonya tittered. "Well, I can't say I've ever considered the acting profession–"

"and quite right too," Miss Fry interrupted, haughtily. "If you can even call it a profession. If you're anything like your cousin, I expect a lady such as yourself would never even dream of displaying yourself so vulnerably."

Tonya felt Peggy's eyes boring into her, imploring her to roll with the punches, and she clenched her teeth as she replied. "Of course not."

Thankfully, the landlady appeared not to have noticed the slightly forced nature of her reply as she wrote Tonya's false details into a visitors' book. "Yes, and all the trouble that young lady is in now, but I suppose that's mostly down to that brother of hers. If she had any sense, she would have disassociated herself from that scandalous man long ago, although I hear she's not much better than he is. I'm not one to gossip, though, of course."

All Tonya could manage was a tight-lipped smile. Apparently, it was difficult to maintain an act when someone was insulting your brother to your face; she'd faced a similar problem when she'd been talking to Jack the other day. Peggy seemed to sense her faltering and she took her arm to guide her towards the stairs. "Thank you so much, Miss Fry, we'll be down for dinner."

"Oh, Miss Carter!" Miss Fry called after them, and she pointed at Tonya to indicate which of them she was referring to. "We have a few vacancies here if you're looking to apply for a place to board. You seem exactly the kind of young lady suited to the Griffith."

Tonya only just managed to hold in her laugh; she couldn't think of a place she was less suited to. "Thank you, Miss Fry, but I'm not in America for long and I already have my accommodation sorted," and then for good measure. "Though I will certainly keep your offer in mind; you never know with the instability of our current climate what issues may arise."

"Quite right," Miss Fry nodded, dotingly. "Few young women are so socially aware these days – I commend you, Miss Carter."

After an exchange of final saccharine smiles, the two 'Carters' departed up the stairs towards Peggy's apartment.

"Display myself vulnerably, do I?" Tonya muttered to herself, in her own accent, once they were alone in a corridor. "I assure you, Miss Fry, there is no safer wall to hide behind than that of an actress."

Peggy smirked. "I knew you two wouldn't get along. I'm impressed you managed to keep yourself together – she wasn't holding back, was she?"

"Oh, I can take Miriam any day of the week." Tonya scoffed with a smirk of her own as Peggy unlocked her door.

Bouncing on her feet, she refrained from shouldering past the agent as they stepped into the apartment. "Howard, we–" Peggy cut herself off abruptly when they found themselves in an empty room. Tonya frowned and spun in a circle as though Howard was hiding in an undiscovered angle of the room while Peggy marched over to the bathroom to check in there. "Howard?"

Their eyes met across the room with a shared look of tired frustration, and they returned to the door to the hallway. Peggy called out. "Where are you now?"

A door at the end of the hall opened and a visibly dishevelled Howard stepped out. "You're back. Good," he gestured to the blond woman who'd stepped out of the room beside him whose lipstick matched the stains on his face. "You know Helen? Helen, my cousin, Peggy." he introduced as Peggy glared, unimpressed. Helen didn't so much as glance at Peggy as she smiled dazedly at Howard. His eyes fell on Tonya, and she felt her irritation fade away as his face lit up. He hurried across the hall but was greeted by nothing more than a shove by Peggy and a clip round the head by Tonya on his way into the room.

"Well, I've missed you too!" Howard said sarcastically when he turned to face them after Peggy closed the door behind them. "Nice glasses." he added with a smirk to Tonya.

She scoffed and tossed them aside now that she no longer needed them. "Shut up."

"You are disgusting!" Peggy scoffed. "I told you I was coming back with Tonya! Could you not have waited a couple of hours without romancing the entire third floor?"

He shot her a glare and then turned to Tonya with a grin and held out his arms expectantly. Tonya recoiled slightly. "I was going to hug you, but I feel as though I should check what you've been doing first," She wrinkled her nose irately at his unkempt appearance. "Though I don't really want to know, to be honest."

Howard's open arms awaiting embrace turned into an indignant gesture. "Nothing, honestly! I was only in there five seconds," He glowered again at Peggy as though she'd betrayed him in some way. "C'mon, sis, I've waited ages to see you again!"

Tonya rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief but was unable to keep the smile from her face. He was back. He was finally back after being away from her for longer than he'd ever been. Everything was still a mess, they were far from sorting it all out, but Howard being here made her feel as though it would all be fixed in no time. He always knew what to do. There was little that would have prevented her from hugging Howard in that moment, and so she added no further time to the wait that had lasted an eternity.

Like always, the embrace took Tonya right back to when they were children; when Howard would hug her when her requests to learn advanced mathematics with the boys were repeatedly rejected; when she would hug Howard when he got overwhelmed with his schoolwork; when they would hug each other when they thought about their mother. They never said anything when they hugged, they were far too proud for that, but Tonya wondered whether Howard was reminded of their childhood too in moments like this.

***

Switching the lamp light on so that Peggy's bathroom now gloomed an eery red, Tonya returned to Howard's side to peer at the small reel of photographs Peggy had uncoiled from the camera pen and was now holding up carefully with two pairs of tweezers.

Peggy frowned at the top few photos as Tonya struggled to make anything out on the tiny squares. "She seems... uninhibited."

Howard snatched the delicate reel in a careless manner that elicited a squawk of protest from Tonya. He inspected the photos himself before ripping off a portion. "The first ten or so might not be suitable for your eyes." he admitted, shouldering Tonya away as she peered curiously at the bit of reel in his hand.

"Well, I'm glad my camera pen is being put to good use," she scoffed, sarcastically. "Though I do remember you telling me repeatedly throughout its development that it was a completely pointless invention."

"Yeah, for you!" Howard explained as though it were obvious. "You don't need any more cameras on you – you have at least three pointing at you on default – I believe that's professionally considered an addiction."

"I am so glad time apart hasn't changed the two of you." Peggy remarked sardonically as she held the part of the reel Howard had handed back to her to the light again as she tried to zone out the siblings' bickering.

Tonya snatched Howard's portion of the reel from him and tossed it into Peggy's waste basket when she noticed his focus was on that rather than the important images of their inventions.

"Your inventions." Peggy confirmed when all three pairs of eyes were finally focused on the task at hand.

Their brief productivity was shattered by a firm knocking on the door.

"Who is that?" Howard asked, sounding more anxious than before as he consciously lowered his voice.

A muffled voice sounded from the hallway. "Peggy!"

Peggy groaned slightly before muttering. "Communal dining's one of the joys of residing at the Griffith."

"Peggy, are you in there?" the insistent voice called again and Howard smirked.

"She sounds nice..."

Tonya rolled her eyes and elbowed him as Peggy frowned warningly. "Er, stay away," she then raised her voice to call back to the knocker. "Actually, Angie, I'm feeling a little under the weather."

Howard cut her off before she could continue her refusal. "No, Peggy, you should go. I worry about you – you work too much."

His sister nodded in agreement. "We'll look through the rest of the photos, you go ahead."

The agent hesitated momentarily, but the voice on the other side of the door unknowingly backed the Starks up. "Peg, are you sure? You need Pepto?"

She sighed as Howard took the reel from her hand again and started towards the door. "Coming!"

Just before she got there, however, an urgent whisper from Howard pulled her back. "Hey, bring me back some ham, would you? Preferably roasted, and some bread, and potatoes, mashed. You know what I like – surprise me," Tonya and Peggy shared a look of scornful disbelief and then looked at the oblivious Howard, who unbelievably added. "Actually, maybe take Ton with you, she knows me best."

"Er, I did not come here to be your waitress, thank you very much," Tonya shook her head firmly. "I forgot how high maintenance you were," She rolled her eyes, but then couldn't resist herself. "What kind of pie do you get in this place, Peg?"

***

Peggy was attempting to surreptitiously wrap several bread rolls in a napkin to slip into her handbag, though Angie's remark as she came up behind her informed her that she hadn't been as subtle as she'd hoped. "These rolls keep for three days," she said, stuffing a few into her own bag without even attempting to be covert. "Four if it's cold and you put them out on the windowsill."

"Oh, er, glad to hear it," Peggy nodded, slightly embarrassed at being caught. "Er, I don't often steal food."

"Are you kidding?" Angie gave her a wise smirk that a master would give a protégé. "Carol once fit a whole chicken down her sweater."

Peggy turned to give the woman on her other side a look of impressed astonishment. Carol nodded with a grin. "My mom knitted a special chicken pocket."

The woman on the other side of Carol leaned in to add: "Gloria's got a compartment in her pocketbook that can fit a cup of gravy."

"Speak of the devil." Angie said as Gloria came hurrying up to join the queue behind her looking slightly dishevelled.

"I'm not too late, am I?" she asked, eyeing the dishes on the table. There was still plenty of food left, even with the women ahead of her stocking up their supplies. She looked up and smiled as she caught Peggy's eye. "Your cousin's real sweet, Peg," she said, blushing faintly. Peggy suppressed an eyeroll and was about to make a quiet remark when she continued. "How long is she staying with you?"

Peggy paused with a frown. "She?"

"You got a cousin visiting, Peg?" Angie interjected before Peggy could question further. "You never said! Why don't you introduce her? Let's go get her and bring her down for dinner..."

"No, Angie. I tried to get her to come, but she's, er, very shy." she said pointedly, glaring slightly at Gloria who seemed to get the message and didn't make any further comment. "Speaking of, these are for her," she indicated the buns she had stowed in her bag. "I'm going to take them to my room and eat with her there – good night."

Amongst the chorus of good nights she received in reply, she heard the newest resident, Dottie, asking Gloria about her pocketbook compartment. "Could you make me one of those that holds pickles?"

***

"How was your 'walk'?" Howard asked, wiggling his eyebrows when Tonya re-entered Peggy's apartment.

She scoffed and swatted him with her hat, choosing to ignore his question. "All present and correct then?" she checked, indicating the photos they had just developed. He nodded, suddenly looking grave and she felt dread settle in her stomach. "What is it?"

At that moment, Peggy came back in. Howard rose from his seat and gestured to the photos on the low table solemnly. "All of our inventions are in your lab."

Peggy closed the door behind her. "Then why is your moustache so sad?" she said with a smile as she dug in her bag for the bread rolls.

"I need you to steal one of them back."

Tonya gaped. "What?!" She hadn't thought his return had been that urgent. Peggy seemed similarly surprised, though she was characteristically more composed about the shock.

"Every one of these inventions can cause large scale destruction," Howard began as he sat back down on the armchair. "That's why we put them in a vault."

Tonya scoffed as she took a seat beside Peggy on the bed. "Fat lot of good that did."

Howard ignored her. "Thankfully, they're not all active, but this one," he held up a photo of an unfamiliar object. "this one is"

"What does it do?" Peggy asked, and Tonya found herself wondering the same thing. She thought she knew what all of their inventions did, even the ones that were primarily Howard's work. He certainly knew all of hers – hence, the camera pen.

"London was antsy about Germany dropping bombs on her, so we created the Blitzkrieg Button."

Ah, it was that one. It looked different to how she remembered it, but it had been a good few years ago and was probably one of their sleepless-nights projects if it was a war invention. "The idea was pressing the button gave you an instant city-wide blackout."

Howard nodded. "The bombers can't see where to unload."

"So essentially it's a glorified light switch?" Peggy summarised.

Tonya smirked. "You're very good at humbling our genius inventions."

"Someone has to keep you in check," the agent grinned before turning back to Howard. "What's wrong with it then?"

"I couldn't figure out how to turn the lights back on," he sighed. "They went out because the electrical grids were destroyed. If that thing is activated in New York, the whole tri-state area will be plunged into the dark ages for years to come."

"Nothing's ever easy: how do I defuse it?" Peggy asked, efficiently on task.

"Well, that's the whole reason I'm here," Howard paused dramatically as he took a bite of the bread roll. "I'm the only one that can turn it off."

Peggy smirked. "I thought you were here because of a camera pen."

"Nah, Tonya could've given you one of them. I expect she's got a few stocked."

Peggy frowned and glanced between them. "and why couldn't Tonya do this too?"

Tonya turned to Howard with the same question. "I tried making it work a different way after we'd abandoned the idea, that's why it looks different," he explained to her, as if he'd read her mind before. "You won't know it now like you knew it before. I don't doubt that you could probably still work it out, but I didn't think it was a risk worth taking." He pointed to a spherical object on the bed beside Tonya, who picked it up to inspect it; it appeared to match the invention in the photograph perfectly, though it felt far too light to be what it was supposed to be. "This is a mock-up: you swap that round with the real thing, no one will be the wiser."

She passed it over to Peggy who turned it in her hands as she looked at it. "I'll figure out a way of telling the technicians what the button does without having them touch it."

"Since when has the US military ever had a weapon that they didn't use?" Howard raised an eyebrow and shared an uncharacteristically serious look with Tonya who didn't need to be reminded of the thought they were both thinking.

Turning to Peggy, she shook her head imploringly. "Don't let anyone touch it."

Slightly taken aback by their unusual solemnity, Peggy looked at the two of them uncertainly. "I'm already considered a traitor, Peggy," Howard said. "Don't let me be the guy who shut down the greatest city on the planet."

Tonya stood up, suddenly feeling ready for action. "Call Jarvis on the hall phone – he can give us a lift."

Howard's head snapped to face her. "Us?"

"I'm not gonna try anything with it," she held up her hands, assuming he was concerned about the invention. "I just think its best that one of us is on hand while its being transported, and it can't exactly be you, can it? Besides, once it's here safely, Jarvis can just take me home from there."

"Well, can't he just pick you up when he comes back with Peg?"

Tonya was touched that he wanted her to stay. "We don't know how long it'll take to get it back, no offence, Peg," she added with a smile to the agent. "I'm afraid Miss Fry won't let me out if I'm here too late and we're definitely exceeding the room limit."

Howard nodded, looking pointedly at the photos of the inventions on the table. He looked so troubled, she couldn't help herself pulling him in for another hug. Breaking their unspoken rule of silent hugs, she muttered. "I'll come back to see you again tomorrow."

She felt him nod. She didn't notice at the time, but he seemed unable to meet her eye again once they pulled away.

***

Tonya lounged comfortably in the backseat of the car. She knew what Peggy was about to do was an anxiously vital part of the mission, but she couldn't help feeling at ease with it all; Howard was back to sort it out and, before they knew it, everything else would be sorted too. Or so it seemed.

She would come back to the Griffith tomorrow to see Howard before he left – she assumed he would have to leave as soon as he finished what he came for, but she hadn't like to ask. She'd almost forgotten her fake glasses before leaving – that would have been awkward to try to explain to Miss Fry, who'd already tried to waylay them on their way out about their absence at dinner – so she'd don her simple disguise again tomorrow and return to Peggy's apartment to visit. She wouldn't let herself be sad about him leaving; it surely wouldn't be long now until he could come home properly.

She was so caught up in her own head that she didn't even realise a conversation was playing out in front of her until a change in Peggy's tone caught her attention.

"Are you alright, Mr Jarvis?"

The cogs turning in Jarvis' head were louder than his actual words as he seemed to take excruciatingly long to craft his next sentence. "I'm... simply nervous on your account, Miss Carter."

Tonya could only see the back of Jarvis' head, which made it somewhat difficult to read his expression, but Peggy's raised eyebrow was visible to her and that told her enough. "Howard came back to New York for this one invention, right?" the agent clarified.

"It was a risk he knew he had to take."

Jarvis was, what Ana liked to call, 'efficient with his words', but his replies now sounded like some kind of automated machine.

Peggy herself paused this time, as if weighing up which words were more likely to provoke a straight answer. "You don't think he's planning on using the device himself to wipe out a city's electricity, do you?"

This was where Tonya came closest to interjecting, because why on earth would Howard want to do that? However, she found that she had become temporarily speechless for one of the first times in her life as she watched the scene play out before her eyes; for once, she was the one watching the movie.

This time, neither of the women in the car felt any doubt in Jarvis' answer as he turned to look Peggy in the eye as he replied earnestly. "Of course not."

"At least the Blitzkrieg Button isn't like nitramene," Peggy was testing the waters less covertly now; it seemed she was running low on prompts and yet was no closer to gaining a proper answer. "If I was to accidentally activate it, no one would get hurt."

Tonya was hardly ever this quiet for so long, especially on car journeys, but she didn't want to interrupt Peggy's questioning – the agent had always been better at getting an answer out of people.

Jarvis' hand jumped seemingly instinctively to pull on his ear. "Just bring the device back as fast as you can, Miss Carter, and then we can all stop worrying." Tonya was beginning to wonder whether they were all worrying about the same thing.

A feeling stirred in Tonya that she was sure could be compared to an ancestral instinct at Jarvis' action and she tried to put the pieces of everything she'd just seen and heard together in her head. Unfortunately, Peggy was getting out of the car before she could work it all out, glancing back at Tonya wordlessly, and Tonya found she could only stare back with a slightly clueless expression on her face as she continued trying to figure out what it all meant.

As soon as Peggy was inside the building, Tonya leapt into the front seat before Jarvis could set off to park around the corner; interrogation may be Peggy's forte, but she wanted some answers.

"Howard and I worked on the Blitzkrieg Button together," she started immediately before Jarvis could say anything, trying to embody her inner Peggy Carter – she'd been told by the original that there was one in everyone. "It was important to us, because it was more than just a weapon: it was a defence for civilians. We worked on it harder than practically any other invention during the war and we hated being unable to finish it. Howard would have told me if he'd tried working on it again, I'm sure of it."

Jarvis had held her gaze when she'd been speaking, but now he seemed to prefer to focus on a point slightly below her eye level. "I think you need to reconsider how much Mr Stark tells you, Miss Stark."

"What are you saying? Howard tells me everything important."

There was a stretch of silence as Tonya tried again to rearrange it all in her mind and then something clicked. The decoy had been far too light to pass for the real thing – Howard wouldn't make that kind of mistake – unless the real thing wasn't as heavy as it should have been, because the real thing wasn't what it was supposed to be.

"Jarvis," Tonya said, and Jarvis was unable to avert his gaze any longer; she never sounded this wary or this solemn. "What has Peggy really gone to get for Howard? Because it isn't the Blitzkrieg Button, is it?"

[☆]

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[☆]

Series Masterlist

Jack's day had been full of pleasant surprises, and he still had a few hours left of his shift. He'd come in to work early, as per usual – it was certainly more interesting than staying at home. Jack prided himself on being the first agent there, and so he always wondered how he found Chief Dooley looking like he'd already been working for hours even before Jack arrived. This time the reason was obvious, and it came in the form of a pinboard of evidence that Dooley was glaring at like some mad conspiracy theorist.

"You've been working all night on the Stark case?" he'd asked as he approached the Chief. The enquiry felt slightly hypocritical; it seemed he wasn't the only one being kept awake with their mind on a Stark.

Dooley had informed him that he'd come to one too many dead ends in regards to the Battle of Finow, a battle in which two of the fatalities of this case had apparently already died in. "Our intelligence indicates the Russians were overrun by a Nazi regiment at the Battle of Finow led by this man," Jack had followed him into his office where Dooley had handed him a file. "Colonel Ernst Mueller."

The Chief was going to ask a man due to be executed what he knew about some mysterious battle. It seemed they truly were running low on leads. "You're going all the way to Germany? What's some Nazi gonna tell us about Howard Stark?"

"I got two Russians who both reportedly died in Finow only to show up alive here looking for Stark's gizmos. Nobody, including our own government, wants to talk about what really happened in Finow."

It was a fair point, and not one Jack was about to argue with, especially not when Dooley appointed him acting Chief as he shook his hand farewell.

The next surprise had not appeared so pleasant at first and, in fact, Jack wasn't sure it was entirely pleasant by the end either. While he'd been discussing various files and potential leads with a group of agents, Sousa had walked by pulling along a handcuffed man that could only be described as worse for wear. He certainly didn't look like a valuable use of their time.

He'd jeered in front of the other men to hide his irritation: "Hey look, Agent Sousa found Howard Stark – we can all rest now!" before going over to berate the agent as he directed the man inside the interrogation room. Sousa was insisting the man was a witness to the events at the dock and might have even seen who'd sent them the anonymous tip.

Jack wasn't convinced at first, but Sousa was an admittedly good agent when it came down to it. This fact had plagued his mind for most of the day, and so he'd come in with his own offer to the potential witness when Sousa's sympathy play had failed. He only had to show the guy a sandwich and a drink and he was practically ranting about what he saw.

"There was a guy – duds all fancy – he was with two women. They got on and off the boat before police showed up."

Daniel held up a photo they'd got of a blonde woman from Spider Raymond's club the night he was killed. "Were either of them this woman?"

The witness peered at the photo disinterestedly. "Nah, they both had dark hair."

Daniel had been disappointed, but Jack thought it was something. He didn't say in so many words – that would mean admitting he was wrong, and he wasn't about to do that. It would also mean potentially giving away which dark haired woman had first sprung to mind when the man had mentioned that fact, but it couldn't be her.

The next surprise had been Peggy – again, not so pleasant – working far too late and dashing into a room she clearly believed to be empty.

"Marge?"

He'd said it as more of a declaration than a question and she'd jumped as she turned and finally noticed he was in the room.

"Didn't I say only the men have to work overtime?" he questioned as he retrieved the drink he'd bribed the witness with earlier from the waste basket.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you enjoying the rewards of your promotion." She indicated the bottle in his hand with her eyebrows and he nodded sarcastically.

She'd turned to leave, but he hadn't noticed as he set the waste basket down again. "Why do you work here?"

Her answer had been immediate and efficient: so perfectly British. "To uphold democracy. Did you need a reminder?"

It had also been a dissatisfying answer, and so he'd prodded further as he took a sip of the scotch. Unsurprisingly, there was hardly any left, but it was strong enough for him to feel temporarily lighter in its effects. "But the rest of us get to do more than take lunch orders." He honestly wondered what she did for the rest of the day.

"You'll never know the thrill of learning whether or not Agent Yauch is in the mood for a club sandwich." she'd reasoned sardonically.

Jack had chuckled to himself and he recalled how he'd spent his last few lunches; he wondered if Peggy had noticed his absence when she'd gone round collecting the orders. "Hm. You're trying to hide something, Peggy," Hypocrite, again. "and the only one you're fooling is you."

Little did he know, the agent's blood had run cold at this statement. He failed to notice, in his slightly heady state, how her hand had crept to the doorknob as she was practically itching to leave the room. "and what's that, Agent Thompson?" Her voice had been strained, but he hadn't realised that either.

"The natural order of the universe," he'd stated simply, as though that alone was everything she needed to know. When she'd appeared rightfully confused, he'd continued. "You're a woman: no man will ever consider you an equal," He'd spread his arms as though he'd just proclaimed some kind of ground-breaking philosophy and sat down on the edge of the interrogation desk. "It's sad, but it doesn't make it any less true." he shrugged.

"I can always come to you for the truth," she'd sighed, finally opening the door. "Good night."

When she'd slipped out, Jack had returned to the scotch, which, to his disappointment, he'd found empty. Chucking the bottle back into the waste basket, he'd risen from the table and walked back through the bullpen to his temporary office. As he'd come to the window to close the blinds, an agitated figure on the street below had caught his eye. Peering down, he'd come to the surprising conclusion that it was none other than a rather distressed Tonya Stark, pacing around as though it was not unusual for her to be by herself in the middle of the city at this time of night. What had struck him most was that she did not appear to have even attempted to disguise herself, like she had on every single one of their meetings, as she marched very conspicuously back and forth along a very public road.

To his annoyance, the conversation he'd just had with Peggy floated back into his mind as he looked down from the window and he involuntarily imagined himself saying what he'd said to Tonya instead. Shaking his head as though to clear it, he grabbed his hat and coat and marched towards the elevator before she could pace away altogether.

Here was his last pleasant surprise of the day.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

Howard seemed to be making a habit out of changing their arrangement last minute to remove Tonya from the plans. "For your own safety" he'd reasoned on the message he'd sent through the telex in their code. She didn't doubt that he had her best interests at heart (he always did – Jarvis had once said that he believed the only person Howard ever thought of before himself was her), but she would have much preferred he had alerted her of this change of plans before she had got up and ready to collect him at four in the morning.

She'd considered pretending she hadn't seen the message, but she always found it difficult to lie to Howard: he knew her far too well. Jarvis also knew she had been checking the telex for messages at least twice every day, so it wouldn't be easy to lie to him either. She was anxious to ensure she didn't land him in any deeper trouble than he was already in and so she felt she had no choice but to trust his judgement – ironically, that was exactly what had got them into this mess in the first place.

So, when Peggy and Jarvis set off to fulfil the plan and collect her brother, Tonya had to watch them drive away into the dim light of early morning from the window. She was struggling to shoulder the guilt that seemed to grow heavier every day; it had increased tenfold last night when she had admitted out loud for the first time, over the phone to Peggy, that she was equally to blame as Howard and yet he seemed to be suffering all the losses.

As she stood watching from the window, she was reminded of the night she'd watched Howard leave from the dock; like then, she hadn't meant to be watching. She should have been helping, doing as much as she could to make up for what she'd let her brother take the fall for. Instead, she was left again, helplessly allowing the burden to fall on everyone else. Like every other time her mind fell into this spiral, she tried to remind herself that Howard had told her it had to be this way; Howard had told her to let everyone believe the stolen inventions were all his; Howard had told her to stay behind while he fled the country; Howard had told her to wait at the house while Peggy and Jarvis went to collect him as he was smuggled back into the country. Selfishly, she hoped that seeing him again would ease her guilt; he could remind her that it had been the right thing to do, and it wasn't her fault really.

She had a couple more hours to wallow in these thoughts before she would have to pull herself together and make an excuse to Ana as to why Jarvis had left so early that morning. It felt so unnatural to have to conjure a story to tell Ana – she was one of the few people she'd never felt the need to create an act for. She'd felt dreadful about lying to her recently. Was it really lying? Technically, she just wasn't telling her everything. But she'd always told her everything, so it certainly felt like a betrayal. Ana didn't seem to mind. Tonya supposed it was easier to pretend everything was alright when everyone kept telling you nothing was wrong. Her friend wasn't stupid though; she knew perfectly well everything was not alright.

Besides, it was for Ana's own good that she didn't know. Not just to give her a false sense of comfort, but also to prevent any more unpleasant interrogations like the one Jarvis had endured. Tonya had been close enough to marching into the agency and giving them a piece of her mind after Jarvis had been there; she didn't think she'd be able to stop herself if it had been Ana they'd dragged into the boxy questioning room.

Once Ana had got up, she'd have to make further excuses and lies to go and meet the others at Howard's most private residence, which wasn't particularly private in general terms, but was the best they had between them. They couldn't let Ana wake to an empty house; practically speaking, it would be far too suspicious, but she and Jarvis agreed on fonder terms that it wouldn't be fair, and so Tonya would have to stick a couple more anxious hours for the sake of her best friend. This waiting was not eased by an unexpected phone call from Peggy about half an hour before Tonya was supposed to be meeting them.

"Peggy? Is everything alright? I thought I was just supposed to come and see you, I didn't realise you'd be phoning, has something gone wron–?"

"No, no, everything's fine, Tonya, I promise," the British accent whispered down the line before Tonya got carried away with herself. "Just an annoying change of plan is all."

Peggy explained how the S.S.R. seemed to be aware of Howard's return or were feeling desperate enough to leave agents watching his residences. Sure enough, when Tonya glanced out of the window again, an unfamiliar car had appeared at the end of the driveway since she had last looked out; she wondered absently whether it might be Jack. Even if they had been able to sneak Howard in unseen, Peggy stated she wouldn't put it past them to search the houses again, and so she had had to take Howard back to her own residence.

"Can you put Howard on?" she asked eagerly, unsure she could wait much longer.

"I'm calling from the hall telephone, I'm afraid," Peggy's apologetic tones didn't do much to ease her disappointment, though this did explain why she'd been speaking in hushed tones. "It's too risky for him to come out of my apartment, even at this hour – though it certainly hasn't stopped him working his way through my hallmates thus far."

The two of them shared a telepathic eyeroll.

"You can come and see him later though. It'll be easier to sneak you in than it was Howard, but I think you're going to have to dig out another disguise – make it your best one yet."

"Honestly, I'm impressed you managed to get him in Peg. It's hard enough to get an unknown woman into the Griffith – let alone a man."

"How do you know–?"

"When can I come then?" she asked swiftly, deciding it wasn't the best time to answer Peggy's enquiries as to why she was so familiar with sneaking into the Griffith.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait longer than we'd planned," Peggy explained apologetically. "I've got to get to work and Howard's insisted that I go in to check on the inventions for him. You won't be able to get in unless you're with me, so I'll come and pick you up with Jarvis later on." Tonya groaned at the thought of having to wait nearly a whole day before seeing Howard, but Peggy's next remark was a welcome one. "I'll be able to leave once I've taken the lunch orders; they don't notice whether I'm around after that, so it'll only be a few hours until you can come."

A few hours often had a habit of stretching themselves to feel like years when something exciting was at the end of them. Usually, that exciting thing was being able to go home after an exhausting day shooting scenes for a movie non-stop. Directors seemed to enjoy the challenge of creating a film in as few days as possible; easy enough for them, they could eat their sandwiches behind the camera. Those on the other side of it would have to wait. Such days had taught Tonya that counting down the hours did little to hurry them away and focussing on finishing the present task was a far better way of getting to the end of the wait, and so she decided she would not look at a single clock as she got herself ready for her mission into the Griffith.

"Good morning!" Ana chirruped as she came into the kitchen, remarkably cheery for someone whose husband had disappeared early with no explanation – perhaps she thought she'd find him down here.

Tonya had heard her coming down the stairs, and so she'd dashed to the kitchen and began making tea in what she hoped appeared a natural manner. Apparently not, because before she could even reply:

"What are you doing?"

Ana sounded amused, which confused her slightly. "Making tea?" Was she doing it wrong again? She'd kept Jarvis' 'tips' in mind from the last time she'd attempted to make any.

Her friend laughed. "You don't know how to make tea!"

"Yes, I do!" she protested indignantly. "I've seen Jarvis do it enough times."

Ana tittered again and left her to it as she dug out some bread and eggs to prepare breakfast. Tonya smiled to herself; she knew exactly what Ana was making.

"Voila!" she smiled as she reappeared with two dishes. They were very simple meals, and yet Ana had managed to prepare them in such a way that they looked like the most delicious meal Tonya would ever eat. She'd seen scrambled egg about a million times before – it was about the only thing Howard could manage to cook without wrecking entirely (she supposed it was the scrambled aspect that helped, since every other food he attempted to make ended up in a similar state) – but she'd never seen it glowing in such a way before. She knew the bread would be gorgeous too; you didn't get properly European bread anywhere in America. It was one of the things she'd loved most about being here – the first, of course, being meeting Ana at last.

Howard had been persuading her to join him on his business trip to Europeever since he'd got there – well, persuading her rather possessive agent more than her, though Tonya was admittedly reluctant herself. It was the first time she had been torn between her two lives, with her rapidly growing success as a young actress and the fantastic opportunity to expand her and Howard's industry. It had therefore been a truly wonderful coincidence that, on his excursion, Howard had checked into the very hotel where her long-term penpal worked. He had recognised his sister's handwriting when he glanced at the freshly opened letter left on the desk and almost simultaneously, Ana had recognised the name she was writing into the hotel's record book. The pair then excitedly wrote a telegram together and Tonya needed no further persuasion to fly straight over: her agent could stuff it.

She'd currently only been there less than a week, but it felt as though she'd known Ana for years – technically, she had! They got on just as well in person as they did on paper. It felt exactly like characters from a book coming to life in a movie.

"Ana, this looks amazing!" Tonya beamed, glancing at Ana to confirm whether she needed to correct herself: finally meeting in person had also been the perfect opportunity for the two of them to ensure they had mastered one another's languages out loud – it was easy enough on paper once you got the hang of it, but speaking was an entirely different matter. Ana's school had taught them English to a practical level, but there had been no language teachers at Tonya's school that spoke Hungarian. Despite this, Ana assured her that she was practically fluent and remarked that she must have a knack for learning things – if only her teachers had seen her enthusiasm in the same way. Tonya wondered whether what was considered a 'practical level' of English had been lost in translation, because Ana was a natural. It seemed she had no faults at all, in her English and in herself; she was as perfect as Tonya had always found her to be through their letters.

It was a pleasantly, quiet morning at the hotel. All the mornings had been like this, to be honest. Tonya liked it that way. It made it feel like the two of them had the place to themselves. Howard had been overjoyed at finding an irrefutable reason for Tonya to join him in Europe, but he quickly realised that his sister finally meeting her penpal meant that he'd be seeing very little of her himself. He was pleased for her though. He'd seen her face when she'd received letters from Ana; he knew how much she meant to Tonya.

Ana smiled and sat in the chair behind the counter of the hotel tailor shop where she primarily worked – how lucky they had been short on staff the day Howard had checked into the hotel and she had needed to work on the front desk – while Tonya sat on the chair she'd pulled up alongside the counter. "It's a simple breakfast, but I've always enjoyed it myself." she replied in English – it was a peculiar bilingual sport they had perfected.

Tonya was already tucking in. Not that it needed confirming, but it was far better than Howard's attempts, bless him. "Well, you're a wonderful cook." They continued their peaceful little breakfast together in friendly conversation and comfortable quiet. Once they'd finished, Tonya confirmed: "This is the best breakfast I've ever had."

Her friend laughed her tinkly laugh that Tonya had decided matched her perfectly when she first heard it. "I don't know about that! This might be the extent of my good–"

But she stopped abruptly as another tinkling noise sounded in the shop and Tonya looked up to see a tall, smart-looking man enter the shop. If the phrase 'formally British' was ever personified, Tonya imagined this man would be perfect for the part. She was ready to return to her breakfast when she noticed Ana seemed fixated on the man who, on second glance, was equally fixated on her. Tonya glanced between the two a few more times, silently betting with herself on who would break the excited silence; she bet Ana.

"I see you like the tie I sold you." her friend commented with a smile.

The man looked down at himself. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, as though he hadn't noticed he was wearing a tie. He was a terrible actor – Tonya was, after all, qualified to judge. "Well, it really is beautiful." But he'd stopped looking at the tie by now.

Tonya smirked as realisation dawned. "Ah, this is the tie man?" she asked her friend, in Hungarian, of course. Ana's message to Tonya on her and Howard's joint telegram had been in English, as it usually was, apart from the last few lines which excitedly informed her of the tall British man that had come into her shop to buy a tie and had waved at her whenever he saw her afterwards but was yet to engage in another conversation with her. Tonya wondered whether the man had actually come in to buy a tie.

The man glanced at Tonya, which seemed to make Ana register the question as her smile widened and she replied, in Hungarian herself this time. "Yes – he's back!"

Tonya grinned at her friend's evident delight and looked back at the man; he was clearly eager to talk to Ana, but it seemed his inherent politeness refused to allow him to go without introducing himself to every stranger he met, though he appeared hesitant on how he should instigate the conversation. Tonya glanced back at her friend bemusedly and Ana explained. "He doesn't speak Hungarian."

"...yet." Tonya added with another smirk. She expected the man might be willing to learn it for Ana. Was that what she had done?

She decided to save the poor man from his internal struggle on how to begin the introduction and started in English. "Hi, we haven't met," She held out a hand – he seemed the type of man that would appreciate that kind of thing. "I'm Tonya Stark."

The man appeared to have a realisation of his own as he nodded when he took her hand to shake. "Yes, of course, I've seen you in the papers... and I've recently acquainted myself with your brother, I believe. Edwin Jarvis, pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," she nodded with a smile and then shot Ana a meaningful look. "Speaking of my dear brother, I promised I'd meet him before lunch."

Before either Ana or Jarvis could say anything, she'd swept off her chair and past Jarvis. It was only when she got to the door that she turned around to give Ana a wink and a thumbs up, which her friend returned with a wide and grateful smile. Then the bell jingled again, and she left them to it. Ana had better make her the bridesmaid.

Ana had, in fact, made her the bridesmaid when it came to it.

There had been many similar breakfasts since then; Ana always made scrambled egg on toast when it was just the two of them, as though they'd started a kind of tradition that day all those years ago. But if she was making that, then that meant she knew–

"Where is Mr Jarvis?"

"Erm..."

***

By a useful twist of fate, Ana's life-drawing class was starting earlier than usual today, and so she left soon after they had breakfasted together, which gave Tonya some time to prepare her disguise. She dug out an auburn wig she'd been allowed to keep for her troubles after rehearsing for a play that never was; she would much rather have kept the polka dot trousers her character was supposed to have worn, but they had already been claimed by another dramatics company. The wig looked awful on her, she thought, but not unnatural, and the curls crowded her face, so it was the perfect inconspicuous disguise. Finishing the look with a pair of rounded glasses, a hat that cast a useful shadow over her face and an outfit uncharacteristically lacking in red, she studied herself in the mirror.

It had been a useful distraction, getting herself ready, as she wiled away the hours until she could see Howard. They only had to convince Miriam Fry that she was Peggy's cousin and that she had certainly never been there before on more than one occasion for rendezvouses with more than one of the residents. She didn't look much like Peggy at all, even without the disguise, which made her look rather less like the agent; at least their hair had been similar before.

The one reassuring factor was her faith in her impression of a British accent. Having been coached by the most British man she thought she'd ever meet, she believed Jarvis' lessons had scored her numerous acting roles after the first one that had asked for the accent. Decidedly, none of them had felt as important as the one that lay before her now.

The wig was rather itchy anyway – she had been slightly relieved when that particular play had been cancelled – she decided to abandon it and settle for the hat and glasses. She'd just finished making these adjustments when she heard a car rolling up the driveway. As she raced down the stairs, she wondered whether her excitement had increased her senses slightly; it was surely impossible to hear a car driving over smooth stone from the upper floors of the house.

Poor Jarvis barely had time to open his own door, let alone hers, when she was flying into the back seat. With admirable unperturbedness, he restarted the engine as Peggy turned around in the passenger seat with an amused expression on her face. "Whatever are you so excited about?" she asked sarcastically. "Nice glasses." she added, equally sarcastic.

Tonya scoffed playfully and began poking Jarvis' shoulder impatiently. "Come on, let's go, I think I'll die if I wait any longer!"

"So dramatic," Jarvis muttered, unable to suppress his own smirk. "Have you ever considered a career in acting?"

"I'll drive myself in a minute." Tonya warned. Peggy laughed as Jarvis' face told her that he did not like that suggestion one bit and they zoomed off the drive without another moment's hesitation.

Tonya didn't draw breath for the entire journey, asking about Howard and how he was holding up (Peggy tried not to imagine what on earth Howard was doing in her absence) and so when they finally pulled up outside the Griffith, she felt as though she'd ran there.

"Okay, how's this?" Tonya cleared her throat as though she were testing a stage microphone. "Good afternoon, Miss Fry," she began in her false British accent. "I'm Peggy's cousin, Elizabeth Carter."

Peggy raised her eyebrows. "That's... scarily accurate," she commented, impressed. "Did you base that on me?"

The actress grinned. "Don't sound so surprised – I am a professional after all. It's just a bit of this and that, with some help from the best teacher, of course." She patted Jarvis' shoulder before practically leaping from the car.

Just before she and Peggy crossed the road to their destination on the opposite side, Jarvis wound down his window. "Miss Stark, I just wanted to check what you told Ana about my absence this morning. You know, so our espionage excuses can maintain continuity."

Tonya and Peggy shared a look as they tried to contain their grins at Jarvis' unwavering enjoyment of the 'espionage' lifestyle he had adopted. "Er, actually, Jarvis, I told her I had no idea where you were," Jarvis' face fell and Tonya truly struggled to hide her amusement as she could practically see the cogs whirring frantically in his mind. She could feel Peggy shaking with suppressed laughter beside her. "I'm sure you can come up with your own 'espionage excuse' on the matter."

Before the poor man could even reply, she and Peggy had linked arms and jogged across the road, freely laughing between themselves once they reached the other side.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

Tonya had been pacing in front of the phone for the last half hour. She kept sitting down quickly every time Ana came in so she wouldn't realise anything was wrong, but her best friend knew her far too well. Ana had also realised by now that her husband and Tonya were involved in some sort of conspiratorial scheme that was no doubt related to Mr Stark's missing inventions. She was no fool. She didn't particularly mind their secrecy – it was understandable, and she privately appreciated being able to pretend she didn't have any reason to worry about the two people she loved most. After Tonya had assured her multiple times after questioning that nothing was the matter, she realised that the whatever was the matter (because something obviously was) was to do with their secret scheme, and so she urged her rather reluctant husband to go and find out what was wrong.

Having resumed her pacing, Tonya jumped to sit down again as she heard someone enter the room. She was slightly bemused, though not particularly surprised, to see that this time it was Jarvis who had ventured in. He strolled in with an exaggerated air of casual activity and seemed to have resolved to pretend he hadn't realised Tonya was there, as he went straight to the couch on the opposite side of the room and began straightening cushions that didn't need straightening. The actress watched him with an unconvinced gaze for a few minutes so that he was startled when he turned to address her only to find her already staring at him.

"I know Ana sent you in here."

Jarvis dropped all pretences. What was the point in keeping up a fruitless act in front of one of the greatest actresses in the world? It was frankly embarrassing. "Obviously."

There was a pause and Tonya found her gaze drawn to the telephone on the side table.

"Is something the matter?"

She could take it no longer and she leapt dramatically to her feet. "Yes, Jarvis! I need to phone Peg, I have to tell her, but I keep thinking about it too long and then it doesn't seem like a good idea anymore."

Jarvis nodded slowly. "I see." He was fully prepared to give her his full list of reasons on the matter, for this was not the first time she had brought it up to him. He was one of the few people, however, to have some insight into how the mind of a Stark works: a debilitating trait of theirs was to contain their problems in their own minds, where the brilliance of their brains had the nasty habit of twisting what were often minor issues into troubling thoughts. It was often the case, therefore, that they only needed to outline the problem outside their own mind for all to appear suddenly clear and inconsequential. It was one of the reasons the two siblings worked so well together: neither was particularly fantastic at giving advice to the other, but they were always willing to be a pair of ears for the other's troubles, which was usually all that was needed. Jarvis was more than happy to fill in for Tonya's brother in his absence.

and so nature ran its course: "Howard never actually said I couldn't tell her, but he didn't say I could, and I'm just so scared of messing something up for him when we've come so far with everything. It feels like we're so close now, and he's coming back tomorrow anyway, so I could just ask him then, but if Peggy finds out before that, I'd feel awful for not telling her first. After everything she's done for us with all this so far, it just seems so unfair that I haven't already told her and I feel guilty every time I think about it."

Hardly a second passed before a decision was reached. "Well, I suppose there's no use in continuing to feel guilty about it." she shrugged, picked up the handset and began to dial the number that Jarvis was now reciting for her. He returned her grateful smile with a nod and swiftly left the room having not said more than ten words.

"Peggy Carter, who's speaking?"

"Hi, Peg."

"Tonya? Is everything okay? Why are you calling so late?"

Perhaps she had been pacing for more than half an hour...

"Yes, sorry, everything's fine, I just need to..." she paused as a noticeable sniff sounded down the line. "Peg, are you alright? You sound a bit... choked up...?"

"Oh, I'm fine, it's just..." a sigh, and then: "One of the agents at the S.S.R. was killed last night after they came for the inventions."

Tonya felt her heart sink rapidly in her chest and she struggled through a sudden constriction in her throat to make her reply. "That's awful, Peg, I–"

"I don't know why I'm so upset," Peggy continued in an uncharacteristic rush. "He was never even nice to me or anything – not at all decent, like Sousa – but I can't help but feeling guilty about it. He wouldn't have even been there if I hadn't sent the anonymous tip in the first place."

Tonya got the impression the agent had poured her heart out to someone on the matter, but for obvious reasons, hadn't been able to divulge the whole story, and so was finishing the cathartic conversation with someone who was allowed to know.

Rather guiltily, she found herself struggling to focus on her friend's issues as one jarring thought plagued her mind: had the agent been Jack? Peggy had complained about him a lot, but she didn't like any of the men in the agency, except apparently this Sousa guy – the ever-living mischievous part of her made a mental note to bring that up later.

"What, er... what was his name?"

"Ray Krzeminski. He was driving back with the man who attacked us on the boat. They were both shot en route."

A feeling of relief swept over Tonya that she knew she shouldn't feel at the announcement of someone's death, but she couldn't help it.

"Geez, Peg, that's too bad. The witness too, huh? That's odd... I know we weren't gonna kill him, but who else would want rid of him besides us?"

But that was a matter for another time, because now that she'd got over the fear of the man in question being Jack, she felt Peggy's guilt manifest itself in her: the agent wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for the inventions, and it was then that she was reminded of the original intent of her phone call, which suddenly didn't feel like such a good idea.

Peggy didn't deserve to be lied to though, she resolved, especially after a shock like this; especially after all she'd done and all she was sacrificing for them.

"That's actually what I wanted to call you about, Peg."

There was a pause filled with obvious confusion. "Krzeminski?"

"No, last night... well, the inventions, specifically," she took a breath before going on – there'd be no stopping once she started. "You know how everyone thinks their Howard's? Well, some of them aren't. Some of them are mine. Like a lot of what we make, most of them can be loosely described as collaborations, but we aren't entirely a double act: some of them are just his, as much as some of them are just mine. We decided to lock them away after the military used them without our permission. I thought we should just destroy them, but Howard was set on keeping them locked up for whatever reason. I trusted him and now we're here, but that's my fault as much as his."

Silence followed and Tonya was starting to regret having this conversation over the phone; she would have rather seen Peggy's reaction than listen to the seemingly endless silence following her confession.

"I know you don't really blame him like everyone else does, Peg, but I still feel bad for letting him take the hit for it all. Howard told me it was best to go along with what everyone was saying. Most people think all of Stark Industries is his anyway, so no one's gonna suspect that the stolen inventions are partly mine. But I wasn't sure whether he meant I shouldn't tell you. It didn't feel right though, with all that you're doing for us, so I thought you should know."

"Well, it does make sense," Peggy's voice eventually responded down the line. "I know better than anyone what you're capable of, and it does explain a few things I had been wondering about."

Tonya paused, but she had to ask. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," There was no hesitation in the reply and Tonya was relieved to hear the smile in her friend's voice. "No, I feel like I've always known, really, and it wasn't a particularly harmful secret either way – not to me, anyway, but thank you for telling me."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner," Tonya apologised, but she couldn't help but smile with relief at how it was all working out. "I wanted you to hear it from me rather than someone in that office of yours."

Peggy was suddenly concerned. "You think they know?"

"Well, I reckon they might be on to me considering the Chief keeps sending Thompson to speak to me."

"What?" The agent sounded incredulous now. "The Chief hasn't been sending Thompson anywhere, at least, I don't think he has..."

It was Tonya's turn for confusion. "What do you mean? He keeps calling me to meet him about the case – 'on Chief's orders' he says."

"Is that where he's been going? Well, it saves me from taking his lunch order, so thank you, I suppose."

Yet again, Tonya found herself with another mystery within this whole debacle, but one that it was decidedly too late to worry about. Peggy seemed to think so too.

"Well, I'm sorry to go Tonya, but a certain someone requires that we're up before dawn, I believe, so I really must get some rest now."

Tonya chuckled, beaming involuntarily at the thought of Howard's imminent arrival. "You're right, and he can answer to all of this then. I'll see you early tomorrow then, and Peg" she paused. "I'm sorry about that agent. It wasn't your fault though."

"Thank you, Tonya," she sighed. "I just wish it felt that way."

Tonya thought the receiver felt a little heavier when she put it down. She sincerely hoped this would all be worth it in the end.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

"Careful what you reveal on this line, I've got a whole sandwich bar watching me now since they announced my name for the call..." Tonya muttered, trying to appear outwardly casual about her illicit-based phone call.

"I'm terribly sorry, I never thought to issue us with codenames..."

Tonya had to duck away from the phone momentarily to stifle her laugh. "Codenames, Jarvis? You really are getting into this espionage lifestyle, aren't you?"

Her jibes had clearly been misinterpreted when his proud reply sounded down the phone. "Oh, do you think so? I have been rather enjoying myself."

She was relieved to hear that he hadn't let his run in at the S.S.R. get to him too badly. "What codenames would you give us then?"

"Well, personally I think 'Dangerous Debonair' suits me–"

She was thankful for the small scuffle that followed, as it allowed her uncontained laughter to go unheard – Jarvis seemed to have confused codenames with superhero names. She chuckled more as she heard two indignantly bickering British accents before Peggy's voice came down the line. "Since Mr Jarvis doesn't seem capable of getting to the point: we called to say we've found Howard's stolen inventions."

Tonya gasped and beamed. "This is exactly why Howard recruited you Peg, you're a star. Where should I meet you?"

"We'll pick you up."

"No, no, there's no time to waste," hushing her voice again as she realised she'd grown louder in her excitement when a few heads turned her way. "You get going – I'll meet you there."

"They're on the 'Heartbreak' in a dock near the South Side pier – the boat has Mr Brannis' symbol on the side."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

***

It would be a decidedly bad move to have the taxi drop her off right by the dock – if anything got followed up, she'd be landed right near the scene in question – but she was hugely regretting her choice of footwear for the extra walking.

"Yeah, Howard Stark's stolen inventions – they're on a boat..."

She froze as she heard an odd American voice as she reached Dock 12. Had someone got there first? Were Peggy and Jarvis here? Did they know? As quietly as she could, she picked up a loose metal rod from the ground and crept the last few steps to peer around the wall at the man on the phone.

"Just a pal."

The man sounded slightly panicked – not at all what a man apparently involved in such suspicious circumstances should sound like, though Jarvis was often admittedly an anomaly to that fact. Jarvis! It was Jarvis on the phone call. She wasn't sure how much more of the butler's amusing antics she could take today as she found herself suppressing her laughter for what must have been the fifth time in the last hour.

The butler practically threw the phone back onto the wall with a hurried: "Have a lovely night!". Tonya smirked and rounded the corner completely.

"What the hell was that?"

Jarvis gave a yelp and whipped round. "Miss Stark! You frightened the life out of me, I–" he paused, anxiously focusing on the metal rod still in her hand. "Were you going to assault me?"

"You're lucky your American accent is so lousy, or I would have been convinced to take you out!" she chuckled, and Jarvis didn't look at all relieved. "Who were you phoning anyway?"

"Miss Carter's agency," he explained. "We concluded that it made more sense for them to 'find' the inventions, as it were, in order to avoid incriminating Miss Carter along with yourself and Mr Stark."

Tonya nodded. "Right, I'll go and check on Peg then. Oh, do you happen to have a change of shoes for me in the car? I didn't really think these through..." she gestured to her exhausting heels.

"I'll go and check," Jarvis nodded. "I'll meet you back in there."

They split off and Tonya approached the boat Jarvis had indicated to her.

It didn't take long to find the room of inventions as she was guided by the sound of an alarming commotion. It seemed she arrived just in time as she found Peggy being choked by a man holding a metal pipe not dissimilar to the one she was still holding; perhaps it was time he got a taste of his own medicine. With no time to waste, she ran up behind the man and hit him around the back of the head with the rod, which produced a rather satisfying metallic clang. Though dazed, he seemed too thick-skulled for this attack to have much effect, and so as he stumbled around (allowing Peggy chance to catch her breath) Tonya kicked him just above his kneecap for good measure – maybe the heels hadn't been such a bad idea. He crumpled with a groan and Tonya stepped past him to help her friend sit up.

"Thanks," she rasped, her throat evidently still struggling to recover. "That was good timing."

"Well, you know I like to make an entrance," Tonya smirked as she lifted Peggy's chin to see the damage. "Though thank yourself for that last part: you taught me that move."

Tonya gasped as she was suddenly wrenched to the ground as the man on the ground pulled her leg from beneath her. Apparently, he wasn't beaten yet and as he stumbled to his feet, he shoved a rising Peggy so that she toppled backwards over the crates she had previously been lying on.

Before Tonya could properly attempt to get up, the man stopped her with a foot on her abdomen and she groaned. "These don't belong to you," he snarled, gesturing to the crates of inventions around them. "You ain't no inventor and you won't be wanted for acting when I'm done with your pretty little face."

He raised the hand holding the thick iron pole to bring it down on her head, but wound up losing his grip as he was hit suddenly from behind. It still hit Tonya, but with much less force as it slipped from his grasp and bounced onto her forehead, dazing her slightly, but thankfully with little lasting damage. She blinked through the stars gathering behind her eyes to see Jarvis wielding a pair of her shoes that he must have found in the car – he seemed to have been following her example of perfect timing – get pushed roughly against the wall by the man, who had snatched up the metal pipe to use in his next attack. Strangulation appeared to be the man's best move, as he pressed the pipe against the butler's throat.

To complete the set of perfectly timed rescues, Peggy appeared behind him wielding a familiar looking gadget, which she deployed onto the back of his shoulder with disconcerting effect. Tonya got to her feet in time to see the complete function of her bone-cracking invention.

Peggy raised her eyebrows with an alarmed but impressed expression on her face. "Well, that works."

"Not if you want a massage." Jarvis gasped and Tonya chuckled drily as she recalled the original intent of her creation.

Tonya bent down to retrieve her discarded shoes and the notorious metal pole that had been dropped as the man's arm had begun to crumple in on itself. "These had better be alright," she held them up to Jarvis with an amused expression on her face at his choice of assault weapon. She then turned to Peggy and held out the metal pole to her. "Only fair that you finish it." she shrugged.

Peggy made an expression of reasoned agreement and in one swift moment, she took the weapon and smacked the man across the face with it; this time, he was well and truly wiped out.

There was no time to relish in the effect, however, as the sound of approaching sirens echoed into the room.

"I imagine that'll be your colleagues," Jarvis croaked, swallowing thickly in an attempt at recovery. "We must go."

Peggy frowned. "We can't leave him here he's a witness."

"There's no time." Jarvis implored as he ushered the two of them to the door, and he was right: as they pulled out of the dock, Tonya saw headlights driving through the other entrance.

***

It seemed he would be arranging another lunch date with Tonya a lot sooner than he thought; that was the first thought that popped into Jack's mind after he received the call from the Chief about the discovery of the inventions. He frowned as he thought about how many excuses he had made to see her recently – not just to his co-workers, but to himself – but now was no time for guilty reflections.

Once they had loaded the inventions and their latest potential lead into their cars and vans, Dooley raised the latest question they needed to pursue:

"He had his hands on an arsenal of Stark technology, but he just sat there with it. What's he waiting for?"

Jack turned to glance at the man sat in the back of Krzeminski's car. "I'll get it out of him." Though as his mind jumped back to the conversation he'd had with Tonya about his last interrogation, he found he didn't sound as confident as he usually did; he hoped no one had noticed.

It seemed no one had, though unbeknownst to Jack, as Krzeminski expressed his faith in Jack on his ride home with the man from the boat, who they'd discovered to be a 'muscle for hire' by the name of Jerome Zandow.

"I don't envy you, buddy. My pal, Jack, he's got a special gift for interrogations. He's real convincing gets guys to spill their guts," he smirked maliciously at the anguished man in the backseat through the rear-view mirror. That's not an expression – we've had to use a mop."

"I need a doc," Zandow groaned. "My arm's broke."

"What's the point of fixing you up if we're just gonna break you again?" Krzeminski asked with a savage rhetoricity.

Zandow huffed. "Was that dame working for you?"

Krzeminski frowned, suddenly intrigued. "What dame?"

"The one on the boat: English broad – solid right hook." he admittedly with a tone of mixed fury and admiration.

A dawning realisation slowly spread over Krzeminski's mind. "English?"

"You'll never believe who else was there neither," Zandow went on, as though the agent hadn't spoke. "Blood is thick though, right? Guess she was just looking out for her brother..."

The traffic light overhead clanged as it changed to red and they slowed to a temporary stop. Krzeminski turned in his seat to get more answers. "Brother? What're you talking about? Say, what'd that English girl look like?"

But before he could get any kind of reply, a car suddenly rammed into the back of them.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

She was walking so purposefully down the busy street that she wouldn't have even noticed Peggy if she hadn't stopped right in front of her.

"Tonya! I was hoping to run into you. Have you seen Mr Jarvis?"

"Yes, he's quite shaken," Tonya sighed. "I hear you were the reason for his lucky escape – honestly, you're a godsend, Peg. He's with Ana now, so he should be alright."

"Does she know?"

Tonya shook her head. "No, and I think he'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Of course," she hesitated, and Tonya guessed what was coming next before it was said. "Do you know why Mr Jarvis was charged with treason?"

"The charge was dropped." she replied immediately.

"That wasn't what I asked."

Now it was Tonya who hesitated. "Yes, I do, but it isn't my place to tell you. I'm sure Jarvis will tell you what happened if he feels he must, but I can promise you right now: it's nothing that discredits him in any way. You can still trust him absolutely, Peg, you have my word."

Peggy didn't look entirely convinced, but there was nothing else Tonya could say to assuage the agent's curiosity, so she left it at that; Peggy had clearly recognised the dead-end anyway and changed the subject herself.

"What are you doing around here anyway? Aren't you checking the vault with us?"

"No, I'm afraid something's come up," Tonya wrinkled her nose irritably. "Besides, it would be a rather tricky situation to explain if I was found wandering down tunnels coming from my own vault. Call me if you find anything though – I might prove more useful at that point."

The agent nodded. "Where will you be?"

Tonya glanced around with an air of careless indecision. "Whichever food joint is closest to here – I'm hungry and I don't want to walk any further – I'm meeting someone. Which reminds me, I'm going to need to get their number off you."

Peggy quirked an intrigued eyebrow. "Oh? Who is it?"

Tonya shared a meaningful glance with her friend. "I'm going to have a little chat with Jack Thompson."

***

Jack got the call barely an hour after Jarvis had left. He should have put two and two together really, but hearing her voice down the line had thrown him off slightly. It was because it had been unexpected – why else would he have been affected by such a thing? In fact, it had been rather a coincidence...

"Funnily enough, I was about to call you–"

"I saved you the trouble then, didn't I?"

"Oh, you're no trouble at all, Stark."

"Don't you know me at all, Thompson?" she purred, and he was quite grateful he'd taken this call sitting down. "Isn't your current investigation centred entirely around trouble regarding myself and my brother?"

He would have corrected anyone else for missing his title, but he didn't want to put her off saying his name. It sounded nice the way she said it. "Let me get to know you better then," he smirked. "I need to speak to you."

"Likewise. When do you finish playing around in your glorified police station?"

"As a matter of fact, speaking with you is Chief's orders, so I'm free to see you now."

"I've got you on demand just like that? Good to know..."

He was trying very hard to not picture her smirking face as she said that; he was failing, but he wasn't complaining. "Where should I meet you?"

"I'll call you when I get there – I haven't decided yet."

Preparing himself to come back with a witty remark, he blinked in surprise as he heard the dull tone indicating the call had ended. For the sake of a few nosy agents that he caught glancing at him, he added on: "Right, see you then", rather convincingly, if he did say so himself; he could give Stark a run for her money.

He got another call barely five minutes later from a vaguely familiar voice, though not the one he'd been hoping for. It was Darlene from the sandwich bar, informing him in clipped tones that a 'Miss Stank' wished to meet him there. He made a note to reprimand Tonya for passing out the agency's telephone number to random food joints as he grabbed his coat and tried not to walk out of the office too quickly.

***

"You liked my recommendation then?" he said as he took the seat opposite Tonya, wondering whether she would have objected if he'd sat next to her instead. Glancing around, he realised she'd sat in the exact same booth they'd been in last time.

She hadn't looked up at him at all until now and he met her unexpectedly steely gaze as she acknowledged him for the first time. "What?"

He gestured around them. "This is where we were the other day – the place I suggested when we needed somewhere to talk."

She looked around herself with an exaggerated air of indifference. "Is it? I hadn't noticed."

She returned to glaring pointedly at the wall just over Jack's shoulder, so that he had a clear view of the look on her face that he just now registered to be one of fury, but received the intended unnerving effect from her refusal to point this glare directly at him. Was something bothering her? Was this why their phone call had ended so abruptly? Even furious, she was undeniably attractive, but Jack would do anything to relieve her of whatever was plaguing her.

He coughed pointedly and as she turned her burning gaze on him, he found himself wishing he hadn't. "Er, is there something the matt–?"

"Are you aware that Mr Jarvis' wife is my best friend, and I would do anything in my power to protect her?"

She stared at him unblinkingly and it took him a moment to register what she had said, but it set in fairly quickly after he got over his initial shock. So that was what this was about? Well, if she was going to be like that about it...

"and what power do you think you have over the United States government exactly?" he raised an eyebrow in mock intrigue.

"Oh, to hell with the government, Thompson," she snapped. "If an institution acts unjustly, then I will not conform to the rules of such a corrupt organisation."

"That's a lot of big words for an actress."

It had slipped out, and as soon as it had he felt the twinge of regret in his chest. If she'd been affected by it, her face didn't show it, but then again, she'd trained it not to, hadn't she?

"I think you forget I'm a scientist first, Thompson, or have you not done your research properly?" she hissed and then leant forward as though she intended to force each of her next words straight into his head. "Do you need me to simplify it for you? I don't give a sh*t what you or your petty little government organisation has to say if they are putting my friends in danger."

Jack was struggling to work out exactly how he was feeling about this situation. On one hand, he was admittedly in awe of her; he'd seen some of this side of her during their hours-long interview at the S.S.R., but she hadn't been so confrontational then. On the other hand, his pride was certainly taking a hit from this, and so the safest thing to do was to save that, he supposed.

"You're not above the law, sweetheart, however rich you and that brother of yours are," The mention of Howard hit a nerve, and he could tell, but something hot in his head was blinding him to the guilt increasing inside him and so he ploughed on. "and neither are your treasonous little friends."

Tonya felt herself rapidly losing her composure. She was practically vibrating with fury now. She wasn't sure whether it was because Jack had brought up Howard or if it was just the injustice of the whole situation or if it was because the thing that scared her most was that Jack might just be right. It hadn't all exactly been plain sailing since they'd made their fortunes, but any problems that did have seemed to be solved a lot faster – until recently, of course. It seemed everything had gone very suddenly downhill, and Tonya was feeling rather lost with it all, especially without her brother. Even during the war, she'd never spent more than a week away from Howard and the ever-increasing amount of time they were apart was taking its toll on her. He was an absolute pain, but one she missed sorely, and even if he was an idiot, he always seemed to know how to make things work out. But he wasn't there now, and she had no idea how to fix this.

She slumped slightly in her seat as she felt the energy that she'd built up drain from her at this hopeless realisation. "Go to hell, Thompson," she muttered. "You had no right to do what you did to him."

"Look, sweetheart, I kept my promise: I didn't lay a finger on him."

"You didn't have to. What you did was bad enough."

There was a lengthy pause in which Tonya felt too defeated to even look at him. "Just doing my job," Jack grumbled, getting tired of this now that it appeared Tonya had given in. "Besides, that's not what I came here to speak to you about. Now, you've gotta talk to me about that car–"

"No, I don't think I will," Tonya frowned and was suddenly filled with a new indignant energy at the nerve of Jack moving on from their previous conversation so ignorantly. He opened his mouth to protest, eyebrows raised in surprise at her sudden regain of enthusiasm, but she went on. "You don't get to threaten my closest friends with deportation and then expect me to aid you with your petty little investigation."

"Don't you think you and that brother of yours are in enough trouble already? This is a federal investigation, and you have no right to evade the course of justice." He hadn't realised he'd raised his voice until a few of the nearest customers fell silent with curious glances.

"Then you would do well to keep your voice down," Tonya hissed, pulling her droopy hat further down on her head; he felt a pang of guilt at how anxious she looked then. Her expression quickly turned furious once more when she brought her eyes back to meet his. "My brother is completely innocent: that is all there is to it."

Jack quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. "Then why are you so reluctant to help us prove it?"

Tonya stared at him in scathing disbelief. "You know full well that's not what your agency is trying to prove."

He shrugged. "Maybe not, but your lack of cooperation is only giving us more to hold against him. You're yet to prove any kind of innocence of your brother."

"The truth shouldn't have to be proven." she stated confidently.

"Don't you know at all how the world works?" Jack questioned tauntingly. To her irritation, his jeer jabbed her like a hot poker.

Mindful of keeping their conversation quiet, she leaned forward to emphasise her next snap at him. "I think it's safe to say I have a better idea of how this world works than you do, Thompson."

Infuriatingly, the man before her only raised his hands in a shrug. "Agree to disagree. My point is," he leaned forward, and she found she didn't feel inclined to lean away – only to make sure he knew she wasn't intimidated, of course. "You're actually helping your brother less by clamming up every time we come to you for information. If you actually gave us something to work with, we could wrap this whole thing up a hell of a lot quicker and he'd be fine and dandy to go back to doing whatever it was he did."

He tried not to smirk as he saw her turning this over in her mind; he already knew he was persuasive, but he liked that it worked on her too.

Tonya was thinking very hard. She was used to thinking, contrary to the opinions of many, but she usually managed to find a logical route to her answer. This kind of thinking was more dangerous: Howard and Peggy were both at stake. She supposed she could answer a few questions – Howard had never really said what she shouldn't say – and as long as she didn't get Peggy into trouble it would surely be fine. She could pick and choose between lying and the truth with each question that came anyway; countless press interviews had taught her that.

"Okay," she nodded. "I don't think I know as much as you think I do, but I'll answer what I can."

Eureka. He'd hit the absolute jackpot. If he didn't get a promotion at the end of all of this, he was wasted at the S.S.R.. "Great, so your Fleetmaster. What can you tell us about it?"

Too close to Peggy that one – it'll have to be a lie. "Well, that one's Howard's really. One of his favourites, so I've not been near it since he left. He'll be heartbroken when he finds out it's gone. Jarvis reported it stolen a few days ago," she gasped suddenly, though hopefully not too theatrically. "Why, have you found it?"

Jack had been watching her closely. He hadn't accounted for the fact that she was a highly-skilled actress, and he wasn't exactly the best at reading people – that was more Sousa's bag. She certainly had a lot to say about that car – did detail mean it was the honest truth or just a really good lie?

He shook his head when he eventually registered her question. "'Fraid not. Well, we found the bumper at a major crime scene, which is why we're so interested in it. Not found the rest of it though."

Tonya winced. "I hope nothing's happened to it."

Jack smiled sarcastically. "I'm sure Stark can buy a new one. Speaking of, do you know when he's getting back?"

This time, she shook her head. "No, I haven't heard from him."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I've got no idea."

She looked genuinely upset about this – he thought – and so he decided this was a solid truth. Seemed odd though: surely Tonya was one of the best allies Stark could have? Who else could he have on his side?

Jack was slightly taken aback when two sandwiches were suddenly set down in front of them – they hadn't even been given menus yet. He looked up to see whether Darlene had treated him, but she didn't seem to be there anymore; the waitress retreating from their table certainly wasn't her, anyway. Tonya didn't seem at all surprised, however – though he wasn't sure there was much that phased her – and so he took her lead and tucked in. It was the same he'd ordered last time and, looking up, he saw Tonya also had her previous choice.

"Is the 'Italian Classic' your favourite, then?" he asked, and then after a pause he added: "You're half-Italian, right?"

"Why? You gonna try and deport me too?" Jack gave her an exasperated look, which seemed to be what she'd been aiming for as she smirked before carrying on. "Yeah, my mother was Italian. I'm named after her – Antonia."

He nodded, taking another bite of his sandwich. "You close?"

"More of an 'in memory of' namesake, I should say," Tonya clarified. "I never got to meet her, really – she passed when I was a baby."

Jack (now very much out of his comfort zone) cleared his throat and mumbled. "Sorry." Tonya shrugged, and he was certain for the first time that an element of acting was involved.

"Turned out alright anyway, didn't I?" she smiled suddenly. "Mostly down to Howard, I'd say. Don't tell anyone this, but he's surprisingly good at French plaits. Apparently, he got one of his earliest girlfriends to teach him, so he could do mine before school every day."

Jack chuckled gently at this thought but found himself more focused on how Tonya's face seemed to shine with her smile. He'd love to be the one to put that smile there one day.

"Was your old man not around much, then?"

"Oh, he was. He was great, actually. Real down-to-earth kind of guy, you know? Feels like he's been gone for so long though with everything that's happened since. He didn't live to see my first show, or even my audition, for that matter; he died a few years before the war. I'm glad he missed it – he wouldn't have coped. It's just been me and Howard for the longest time."

It struck Jack for the first time just how unfortunate this entire situation was for Tonya. Sure, it was never the most convenient when your brother gets accused of treason, but Howard was her entire family at this point. For someone so famously popular, it was strange to discover that Tonya had so few people in her life that were truly important to her; one of them was on the run who knows where and he, Jack, had just threatened to deport the other two. Nice one – he certainly wasn't going to be joining the list anytime soon.

"You close with your folks at all?"

Jack coughed and straightened up a little. He realised this was unavoidable since he started the topic, but he still didn't feel quite prepared. "Er, well, my old man passed before the war like yours. He was the kind of father every guy wants, you know? Got me pretty much everywhere I needed to be in life. It was actually an old friend of his that got me the S.S.R. job, so he's still helping me out from wherever he is." he laughed.

Tonya smiled and Jack could feel the next part coming.

Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask...

"and your mother?"

"She's still around..." he nodded vaguely.

He could just lie.

"Not seen her in a while."

But she'd been so honest with him.

Tonya frowned. Had he let on that something was wrong? How could she tell? "Jack, you–"

Just say it.

"I'm not sure she even knows I'm alive."

There was the bombshell.

There was also a pause.

"What?"

"We, er, we fell out just before I left for war..." Jack nodded, staring fixedly at the table. "Well, it was sort of because of that really, I think, and then when I got back, I never heard from her."

A stunned sort of silence followed, one that Tonya so rarely found herself trapped in. However, she regained her voice soon enough. "You have to speak to her!"

Jack frowned, his expression clearly showing that he considered this the most ridiculous idea in the world. "There's no point. I don't even know what I'd say, I–" He cut himself off abruptly as he felt an unpleasant ache in the back of his throat threaten to crack his voice.

He wasn't sure how much more silence he could take. This certainly hadn't been how he'd imagined this meeting going. He was even more surprised when he felt a hand reach across the table and gently squeeze his own.

"Whatever disagreement you had," Tonya said gently, cautious to keep her voice and speech to a minimum. "I'm sure she'd be glad to know you're alive."

He didn't know whether she was expecting a reply and he didn't know what to reply at all, so he just held on to her hand for a few seconds longer until he didn't feel so uncomfortable sitting there.

There were a few minutes of a more agreeable silence before Tonya piped up with her third question:

"Are you an only child, Jack?"

"Yep."

"Hm, thought so." she hummed sagely.

Jack frowned in bemusement and laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! It just... makes sense." Tonya smirked.

"I don't like what your implying, Stark," he pointed a finger at her, narrowing his eyes in a good-humoured way. "I don't know what it is, but I don't like it."

She laughed and he felt something in his stomach swoop at the sound and the fact that he had been the cause of it. He also felt an intense relief at how smoothly she'd managed to change the entire mood of the situation. He hoped his smile told her how grateful he was in a way he could never say out loud. All too soon, though, it was all cut short.

"Someone on the line for Tonya Stark...?" an uncertain voice suddenly rang out, followed unsurprisingly by a chorus of excited whispering as people around them swivelled eagerly in their seats, attempting to find the hidden celebrity among them. The young waitress stood by the phone appeared apprehensive, and with good reason: it wasn't often that an award-winning actress dined in the local sandwich bar, though it had happened twice in the last few days.

Tonya huffed and began to rise from her seat. "I hate it when they announce me like that..."

Jack smirked, knowing full well her discomfort was only for show. "Nah, you don't."

The actress grinned a guilty smile and winked at him. "Nah, I don't."

The waitress holding the phone looked relieved that she hadn't been the victim of a strange joke, but also rather taken aback by the consequential reality as Tonya strolled over to answer. She returned less than a minute later but didn't sit down again.

"Duty calls, I'm afraid, Jack Thompson," she said, picking up her coat. "I'm starting to like these sandwiches, though, we should do this again sometime."

"Is it only the sandwiches you enjoy?" Jack quipped with a smirk, trying to hide his disappointment at seeing her go.

Tonya shrugged and winked. "I guess you'll have to find out."

With that, Tonya found herself walking away from one of the most peculiar encounters she'd ever had, and she'd had plenty of those in her young lifetime to compare to. She'd never spoken that openly to anyone about any of that stuff before, except maybe Ana, but even then, never so much in one go. How the hell had they moved on to such a personal conversation after how their meeting had started? They'd just sort of slipped into it in the way old friends do so easily, except they weren't old friends at all; something about Jack gave her that easy kind of feeling though.

and why the hell had she bought him a sandwich? Thank goodness he didn't ask why one had appeared before him. She'd done it almost automatically, though how could she have? They'd only been there once before. Come to think of it, she shouldn't have felt so inclined to buy him one in the first place; she'd called him there to confront him, not for a 'spot of lunch', as Jarvis would say. She should really have been more worried about why she'd remembered his order...

Jack was left sat there, reflecting on everything that had just been said, but at the same time, trying not to think about it all too much. Thankfully, it was soon after he finished his sandwich – and what Tonya had left of hers (why let it go to waste?) – that he got Dooley's phone call telling him that they had found Stark's inventions. It was funny how he and Tonya kept getting calls so close together.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

Once the car had driven completely off the driveway, Tonya turned to Peggy to indicate that the coast was clear, but also in a helpless plea for what to do next. Peggy stared back at her with an equally anxious expression, which did not reassure Tonya in any way. The skilled agent that she was, however, it did not take her long to formulate a plan.

"I'll follow them. It's time I showed my face at the office, anyway; I'll watch the interrogation and do what I can to get him out."

Tonya nodded along, trying not to wince at how harsh 'interrogation' sounded. Poor Jarvis.

"They can't really do anything to him, can they? They've got nothing to go on!"

Peggy frowned. "That's technically true, but tensions are high in the S.S.R. at the moment – they'll latch onto whatever lead they find, I expect, but I'm sure they meet a dead end with this one," she continued hurriedly when she caught sight of the nervous expression on Tonya's face. "Mr Jarvis is... somewhat coolheaded in a crisis. Stay here – I may need to call you – I suspect he'll find his own way out of this, but I'll go and do what I can."

Tonya tried to keep this in mind as she waved Peggy off. She now faced a different kind of frustration to what she had felt the day before – while she was still at a loss for something to do, this time she was tormented by the helplessness of it all rather than boredom. However, this was suddenly pushed aside when she saw Ana bustling around the dining room through the window. She didn't know.

"Edwin, is that you?" Ana chirruped as Tonya closed the door behind her when she returned to the living quarters of the estate.

She called back. "No, it's me!" Improvisation. "He had to go and sort something for Howard, so he's gone into town for a bit, I'm afraid."

Ana came out to meet her in the hall. "No matter," she said with a smile. "It will give us some space to work on your dress."

Tonya smiled back, and it was genuine. Not only was she grateful for the distraction, but in the recent tumultuous times of her life, this little project she had with Ana had been a pleasant escape from it all. She said 'little project', but the reality was that it was her current pride and joy: her outfit for the first ever Met Gala. Many first-class designers had approached her as soon as she'd been announced on the attendance list, but she'd already had the most fantastic idea for it. Unfortunately, her practical skillset was purely limited to scientific creations, and so she had enlisted the help of Ana, whose talents she knew were boundless in this particular area. Wonderful as ever, she had been more than up for the job, and so they had been working together of their respective elements of the creation for the past few weeks – because, of course, Tonya couldn't help but include at least some science in the design.

It wasn't just the familiar thrill she always felt when she had a project to work on that put her at ease; Ana always seemed to have a truly calming sense about her that never failed to make her feel safe, even on her worst days, which she seemed to be having a lot of at the moment. On the surface, many would say that they were practically opposites – easy-going Ana and fiery Tonya – but she would tell them that they'd never heard Ana's quick wit. Either way, they complimented each other quite perfectly, and there was really no one else Tonya could imagine as her best friend.

The respite lasted almost an hour – though it felt far too quick to Tonya – until Ana announced she needed to go and buy some new fabric. Tonya almost volunteered to go with her, but remembering Peggy's advice, she made the excuse of needing to finish off what she had been working on, and so Ana set off on her own, leaving Tonya equally alone.

Tonya wasn't sure how long it had been, but she gave a start when the forceful slam of the front door shook the threshold of every room; Ana mustn't have been able to find that fabric. Strange, though: she was usually a very patient woman. The only thing that could have possibly been stranger was the revelation that the disturbing arrival had in fact been that of Mr Jarvis, who looked uncharacteristically shaken as she peered down the hallway. He was typically a nerve-wracked man, but he usually managed to remain composed in a manner very fitting for his position. Tonya noted she'd only ever seen him in such a state as this in Hungary when his General had refused to sign Ana's letter of transit.

"Jarvis?"

He turned around so quickly she feared he would get whiplash, only deepening her concerned expression. He didn't appear physically harmed, but the dread remained in her gut: she'd seen the consequences Jack's interrogation techniques had on himself – she'd hate to see how the other guy turned out. She'd prayed that he would stick to the way he had performed her own interrogation when speaking to Jarvis, but she wasn't quite sure what they'd expected to learn from the butler. Either way, the state he was in now made her resolve to wring the neck of whoever had been responsible at the first chance she got.

"What the hell happened to you?" There was a strange reversal of roles as she rushed forward to help him out of his coat and jacket as he was too disconcerted to do so himself or to refuse her help. He still hadn't spoken and the furiously distressed look on his face made her so desperate to hug him in consolation, but knowing him as she did, she knew it would only make him more uncomfortable. Instead, she did the only thing she was almost certain would calm him in the absence of his wife: guiding him silently to the table, she began making a pot of tea.

Jarvis had always insisted on performing this task himself, and as she and Howard ran majorly on coffee, she had never actually brewed tea herself. She prayed that given the countless times she had watched the butler do it, she could at least manage to concoct a passable cup of the beverage. Despite her intense concentration on the task, she managed to sneak a few glances to the man sat at the table: he was sat aberrantly slouched with his fists clenched white on the table.

After pouring two cups, she set one of them in front of him and sat in the adjacent seat. Blinking suddenly, as if he'd only just realised she was there, he thanked her quietly and paused before lifting his cup.

"It's hot." she warned gently. He simply nodded and set it back down again.

There was a silence. She wondered if he'd rather simply sit there, but she felt as though she had to say something. Just as she opened her mouth, he spoke hoarsely.

"They threatened to deport Ana."

Tonya had not been expecting that. Surely, they can't have been serious? It was positively blackmail! Of quite the cruellest kind, as well. She was filled with such intense rage at the thought of her best friend being treated so unfairly that she had to nudge her tea away from her, wary that she might hurl it at the wall if she thought about it too hard.

She took a deep breath – it was no use getting angry about it now when Jarvis needed her. How many times had he helped her in the past? She certainly wasn't going to miss a chance to repay at least some of her debt to him; she could redirect her anger to those who deserved it later.

Returning her attention to him, she noticed he was still staring with a seething glare at nothing in particular. As jarring as this was in comparison to his usual composure, she hoped it meant he hadn't noticed the brief lack of response from her. Reaching cautiously to clasp the hand closest to her, she squeezed it gently in an attempt to emphasise what she would say next. "Jarvis, you know we would never let something like that happen? I, for one, would never let them even try to–"

"What can you do?"

She blinked in surprise at his uncharacteristic interruption. "Sorry?"

"What exactly can you do, Miss Stark?" Jarvis asked quietly, not looking at her. "With all due respect, yourself and Mr Stark are rich, but you do not own America."

"Jarvis, we've helped you and Ana before, we can help you again."

Tonya paused at the door when she heard hushed voices within. She wasn't one to make a habit of eavesdropping, particularly not on her best friend, but the urgency in the voices she could hear told her it was something that she shouldn't miss.

"Let me go and say goodbye to Antonia!"

"There's no time – we have to leave now."

"Edwin, I can't just leave her behind with no explanation! We've only just finally met; she'll be so upset if I just go. What's the rush anyway?"

"I'll explain on the way, we can telephone her when we get there, but now we really need to–"

Before Tonya could react, footsteps had approached the door and a startled Edwin Jarvis almost collided with her as he went to step out.

"What's going on?" Tonya's eyes flicked between the nervous-looking man in front of her and her best friend who had just appeared by his side.

Jarvis' hand leapt up to his ear in a peculiar movement and Tonya frowned. "Nothing." His voice was suspiciously higher than usual.

"Oh, Edwin! Tonya's not going to tell anyone – she's my friend," If she hadn't been feeling so apprehensive about the whole situation, Tonya would have smiled at the comment. Ana turned to face her. "Edwin has found me a way out. It's not safe for me here, but he's getting me away. I'm so glad you came here before we left: I couldn't bear not saying goodbye!"

Tonya beamed and embraced Ana tightly. She'd been so worried her friend's safety with the growing tension in the current climate, but there had been little she could do to help her case – Howard had already almost landed himself in a lot of trouble bringing Tonya here in the first place. Now, thanks to Jarvis, Ana would be okay.

"I'll see you again, Ana, I promise you," she said as she pulled back from the hug. "We may just have to go back to penfriends again for a while. How did you do it?" she enquired suddenly, curiosity piqued, as she turned to the man lingering anxiously beside them. "Did you manage to convince your General to sign the papers?"

"We really should be going, I–"

"Edwin, stop fussing! If your General signed the papers, then everything is okay – why do we need to rush away so?"

There was an extensive pause in which Jarvis shifted awkwardly under the gaze of the two women. They caught on simultaneously and Ana gasped while Tonya gaped at him.

"You signed them yourself?" Tonya raised her eyebrows, looking at the man before her with a newfound respect: Ana really had found a good one.

"Edwin, you forged the documents?" Ana said in a quietly awed voice.

Jarvis winced as he seemed to receive the wrong impression from her sudden drop in volume. "I'm sorry, Ana, but I really saw no other way. The General refused to sign them, so I–"

He was taken by surprise when quite suddenly Ana kissed him, and he went bright red as Tonya whooped quietly somewhere beside them. Once they pulled back, he still felt the need to clarify. "You're not upset?"

Ana smiled warmly at him, which was really all the answer he needed. "You're a truly remarkable man, Mr Jarvis." she declared, and he burned even redder than before, though a small, delighted smile also made an appearance on his face.

"Right, now that's sorted," Tonya interjected, now fully aware of why Jarvis felt the need to hurry. "Where will you go?"

"England, I think," Ana smiled. "Edwin says it's nice there, but I expect it will be dreadfully cold."

"You can't go there!" Tonya frowned suddenly, looking at Jarvis imploringly, who didn't appear to understand the issue. "Jarvis, you've just committed treason, they'll be arresting you as soon as you touch ground!"

"Oh dear..." Ana frowned, seeing the problem.

"Go to America," Tonya nodded. "You'll be safe there. The war hasn't properly kicked off over there just yet, so they'll be less averse to foreigners flying in anyway. Howard and I were going back at some point anyway – we can meet you there!"

Jarvis and Ana seemed more satisfied by this idea. Proceeding with hurried caution, the three of them carried out their plan and before she knew it, Tonya was waving them off as they flew to safety. She only hoped the landing went just as smoothly.

"I appreciate you would do all you can for Ana – as, of course, would I. Although I could just as easily be deported, so I suppose that makes me a rather inadequate husband, doesn't it, if I can't even protect my own wife from being ousted from her home?" he huffed a dejected chuckle and shook his head. "No, if it came to it, there's nothing that could be done."

A rather unsettling silence followed his dispirited conclusion. Tonya was still quite taken aback – Jarvis wasn't exactly a breezy optimist, but she'd never heard him sound quite so helpless. She'd always felt that there was a solution to any problem as long as Jarvis was around, but now she wondered whether he was only good at solving other people's problems; who helped Jarvis when he had his own troubles?

He was right as well. She and Howard had helped the Jarvises before, and although it had arguably been more serious on that occasion, it had been vastly different circumstances. That wasn't to say she and her brother wouldn't fight tooth and nail to keep anything from happening to them, but maybe there really wasn't anything they could do in the end, no matter how much money and persuasion they possessed.

Her thoughts had begun to spiral unpleasantly when Jarvis' entire demeanour changed quite suddenly and he began stammering anxiously. "I– I'm so sorry, Miss Stark, I don't know what came over me," Jarvis frowned at himself, looking down shamefully. "I've spoken extremely out of turn, forgive me."

The number of witty remarks Jarvis had come out with over the years may have ordinarily been considered informal, but she and Howard had never cared for such strict conventions, especially as Jarvis was more a friend than a butler. Tonya rolled her eyes fondly, sending a silent prayer to whatever power there was to give the poor man a break; he was clearly at his wits' end and wasn't at all thinking straight. "Jarvis, for goodness' sake, we've known you too long for any of that formal nonsense; you could shoot one of us and we still wouldn't call it 'out of turn' – although, please don't," she chuckled, in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere. It seemed to work as Jarvis offered her a weak smile, though maybe he was just being polite. "As for what could have come over you, I'd say it was probably the unwarranted threat of deportation; it's more than enough to knock anyone off their axis."

Jarvis nodded jerkily to indicate he had actually registered what she'd said. She felt slightly relieved to see he was already regaining his senses. Tonya gave him a moment to continue to compose himself a little before carrying on.

"Personally, I think they're all mouth and no trousers, but I can't make any promises there, because I don't know how these people work. I can promise you something though," She brought her hand to join the other in holding onto his, as if to anchor him, feeling further relief when he responded by squeezing her hand back this time. "There is nothing on this earth that I wouldn't do for the pair of you."

For the first time she they'd sat down, Jarvis looked her in the eye. She wondered at first whether he was judging the validity of her vow, but she soon realised there was nothing but complete and utter gratitude in his gaze. Confirming this, he gave her a quiet "Thank you.".

After a few minutes of a more comfortable, less burdened silence, the butler smirked. "I can think of one thing actually."

Tonya frowned. "Hm?"

"You cannot, for the life of you, make a decent cup of tea."

She gave an involuntary laugh and looked at the untouched cup in front of him. "Have you even tried it?"

"Well, you're not supposed to actually empty the contents of the teabag into the water," He was clearly trying very hard to not laugh. "and you forgot the milk."

She glowered down at her own cup, realising her mistake. "Alright, alright! I'll leave the tea-making to you in the future."

"I think you should." Jarvis quipped with a chuckle.

Standing up, she swatted him with a tea towel, but smiled to herself at the return of his usual wit. She knew he was probably still quite shaken and was likely trying to convince himself as well as her that he was fine; he certainly would want to be as close to okay by the time Ana returned as to not worry her. But the worry that the threat had thrust upon him would plague him for quite a while and so Tonya resolved to make a call.

Hopefully, deportation would never become a real possibility, but even if it wasn't anything more than a threat intended to intimidate, she could still do something about it now. She wouldn't leave Jarvis alone, and so when Ana returned, she excused herself with the fib of an errand to run.

She supposed it was a sort of errand.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

Tonya didn't like being left out of things, especially when she had every right to join in. It wasn't easy to convince people of that right, but Howard had always helped, so it hurt twice as much when he had been the one depriving her of it. So, when he returned, she made sure she was ready and waiting to give him the piece of her mind he had left too quickly to receive when he earned it. He came marching into the room with an uncharacteristically sullen look on his face, but her irritation towards the man that had been building up inside her for days blinded her to this fact.

"You don't let me come with you and then you don't even call to tell me about it?" she snapped, as he stared around the workshop like she wasn't even there. "'We're in this together, Ton'... 'I'll make sure you never get left behind, Ton'... so how come it's okay for you to leave me behind, hm? Because, personally, I don't think–"

She cut herself short, not because her words were falling on deaf ears, but because when she had begun to pace frustratedly towards him, she had caught sight of the darkening bruise on one side of his face. Gaping at him as she came to a halt, her eyes widened when he finally turned to look at her properly.

"What happened to your face?"

Howard didn't answer her. Instead, he looked away from her again and began gathering pieces of half-finished inventions and boxing up those that were completed and waiting on multiple worksurfaces.

"We've got to hide them, Ton." he said shortly after a minute, offering no other kind of explanation.

She frowned and started following him in his crazed tour of the room. "Hide what? Howard, what are you talking about?" No answer again, and so she took hold of his arm as he reached for another of their projects. "Howard, what–?"

He wheeled around so suddenly that she jumped and let go of the arm she had grabbed onto. "I don't regret for a second not letting you come with me on that plane," he snapped, though she somehow realised that his fury wasn't meant for her. "I sure as hell wish I hadn't gone myself, but I'm glad I did, because it made me understand."

He took hold of her shoulders like he did when he was trying to be genuine. Howard's sincere moments were rare, even rarer between the two of them, but she always found herself appreciating the times when he tried to reassure of things in this way; she didn't need streams of empty promises or nonsense lies that she was supposed to take for truth; she just needed her brother giving her a few simple words and she always knew in a heartbeat that he was right – she only had to look at him as he faced her.

But she hardly recognised the man in front of her now as her own brother. She had seen him serious before, but the look on his face now was so solemn that it was barely his own. It terrified her, and maybe that was what had made her listen to him, despite the easy assurance she'd been hoping for when his hands had grasped her shoulders.

"We can't trust anyone, okay, Ton? They only need us to make the stuff; they don't care what we say they should or shouldn't do with it, even though we know better than anyone. I won't stand for that and if you're still the kind of person I think you are, then I know you agree with me."

The shock had worn off as her words sank in and she didn't even hesitate with her reply. "Of course, I do, Howard. So, what are we going to do?"

Howard sighed as he looked around himself as though the solution would materialise in the air beside them. "Get ourselves out of this damn contract for starters."

Tonya nodded. "Right, and the inventions? It's probably best if we just destroy them all, right?"

"No, we can't do that," Howard frowned, thinking hurriedly. "We'll lock them up somewhere where no one can get at them."

Tonya frowned now, and if they could see themselves, then they'd understand why people said they were so alike. "But if no one can ever reach them, then why don't we just–"

"Tonya, I went on that plane, not you," She opened her mouth to protest indignantly at this remark, but fell silent once again as the sincerity of Howard's glare caught her off-guard. "You have to listen to me here – I know what I'm doing."

She'd believed he had for the year or so the vault had been secure. The weapons had lay there, untouched, for nearly two years, but now she was staring down at the gaping hole that tunnelled from the vault room and the security wasn't the only thing she had been questioning for the last week...

Why hadn't Howard wanted to destroy the weapons? It would have been so much easier. They wouldn't be in this mess at all if they had. She kept trying to convince herself that he'd had some significant reasoning for it, but the underlying fear that what everyone said about him was true kept gnawing at her mind; he had said himself, in fact, the night before he left: "I can damn well control what I sell". He'd never mentioned even considering selling those inventions since that day in the war, and she hadn't thought much of it at the time, but the newfound silence that replaced the gap of Howard in her life had left a lot of room for thought on such matters. She decided she didn't like the quiet.

At that thought, like someone had been reading her mind, she heard voices on the stairs outside. She'd been in here a few times over the last week, which she realised wasn't the wisest ideas, but it had been the start of all their problems and so some strange part of her believed it might also be the end. But the inventions were still lost and Howard was still miles away, so she knew it was a futile thought.

To her knowledge, no one else had come here since the investigation, and so she was slightly surprised to run into Jarvis and Peggy after she had closed the vault door and come out to the stairway.

"Tonya," Peggy blinked in surprise and Jarvis looked equally bemused. "What are you doing in here?"

"Well, I live here," Tonya chuckled, smoothly avoiding the real meaning of the question. "But I could ask you two the same thing."

At that moment, there was a dull banging on the door at the top of the stairs and a familiar voice made something within Tonya give an involuntary jolt.

"S.S.R., open up!"

***

It felt like they were finally making some progress on the case. They'd annoyingly arrived what must have been merely seconds late to the scene of the implosion the night before, but not without gathering some valuable evidence once they got there.

"We got footprints," Dooley had indicated with a finger, as Jack and Krzeminski returned from looking at the remains of the latter's skinny-dipping site. "A woman's. She was with him till he died."

"Or up until she popped him herself." Jack had pointed out, frowning as he stood over the man sprawled in the dirt.

Krzeminski had then given his own input. "Got to be the broad who cuffed fatty to his chair."

"Could be that blonde at the nightclub."

"We ever get a look at her?" Dooley then questioned as he looked up at the two agents standing beside him where he was squatting.

Jack had shrugged absently, as something else had caught his eye. "Pics were Sousa's detail."

The Chief had then yelled something at Sousa, but Jack was engaged with something glinting a couple of feet away in the road. Crouching down, he'd found it was a hairpin, and something about it felt vaguely familiar. It could have been any girl's, in all honesty, but something made Jack pocket it for later reference. He'd considered showing it to the Chief, but Sousa had found something with a much clearer lead, and so as to not look stupid, he kept it to himself for the time being.

Sousa's find had been a key that had led them to the room of the other victim of the second implosion where they'd found some kind of type-writer transmitter. They'd also found out that Brannis had apparently already been dead for two years, which raised some worthwhile questions. The current task at hand, however, was the immediate lead they had on a car bumper Krzeminski had recovered from the Roxxon implosion; it belonged to one of Stark's cars.

As he and Sousa pulled up on the vast driveway, a jarring thought struck Jack. With Stark supposedly AWOL, the first suggestion of who could have been driving it had been Stark's butler, but now Jack suddenly remembered that there was still a Stark in the country.

Trying not to remember the very clear motive he'd uncovered from his conversation with Tonya, Jack dismissed this thought and rapped professionally on the glass door. "S.S.R., open up."

After a few moments of unanswered knocking, Sousa commented sarcastically. "Unbelievable. A known fugitive isn't answering his door."

"Knock harder." Jack shrugged.

"Sure, can I borrow your forehead?"

His patience was wearing thin, and the troubling thoughts about Tonya and Sousa's sense of humour were not helping matters. He took his frustration out on the door as he pounded on it irritably, making the glass shudder ominously.

The butler they both recognised from one of the many files they were now all too familiar with appeared at the door and greeted them as though they had only knocked once. "Good afternoon, gentleman, how may I help you?"

"Afternoon," Jack nodded. "Agents Thompson and Sousa with the S.S.R.."

The butler glanced at the ID they flashed at him and then went on smoothly. "If you're looking for Mr Stark, I'm afraid he's indefinitely unavailable."

"We're well aware of that, Mr Jarvis," Sousa replied. "That is your name, isn't it? Mr Edwin Jarvis?"

Jack pressed on before the man had chance to confirm what they already knew was true. "You misplace anything recently?"

"Yes! I did lose a fountain pen on Fifth Avenue."

Squinting at him, Jack tried to figure out whether Jarvis was trying to be funny. "How about the bumper off a Fleetmaster? Anything like that?"

"Just the bumper? I wish you'd found the entire car – I reported it stolen several days ago. Detective Davis at the 19th precinct was very helpful."

The agents glanced knowingly at each other, but Jarvis seemed to take this as an end to the threshold interrogation. "If there's nothing further..."

He began to shut the door, but Jack quickly moved his foot to block the action. "That bumper was found in a major crime scene," he stated, bluntly. "There's plenty further."

At this, the butler glanced at something in the room behind him, but before Jack could see what it was, he had continued in a voice significantly louder than before. "Mr Stark doesn't like visitors, whether he's here to receive them or not."

"Yeah, and neither do I when they march here uninvited, nearly shatter my door with knocking and confront my butler." Something caught in Jack's chest when Tonya appeared at that moment in the doorway beside Jarvis. She glared at them for a moment, but then a smile crept into her face as she looked at the man before her. "Hi Jack, are you here for me again?"

He recovered himself fast enough to answer without too much delay. "'Fraid not this time, sweetheart, we'd like to hear a little from this butler of yours."

"Are you trying to make me jealous, Agent Thompson?"

She knew damn well she didn't need to call him that anymore, but he wasn't going to correct her when he could hear her say it like that. He could practically see Sousa's eyebrows raising, but he didn't care. He expected the agent's expression was practically a mirror of the butler he remembered was still stood in front of him.

As his eyes flicked back to where his attention should have been, Tonya's face snapped back to the glare she had entered with. She was a talented actress after all, he reminded himself. "Jarvis hasn't done anything, so without evidence you can't–"

"Not to worry, Miss Stark, I'm sure I won't be long."

Her head snapped up to face this unexpected interruption, and she wasn't the only one surprised. Jack honestly thought it was going to be a lot harder than that. He supposed the Starks were the only difficult members of the household; a compliant butler was the balance.

"With any luck, these gentlemen can help us find that missing car."

Tonya stared imploringly at Jarvis and then glanced apprehensively at the agents on the doorstep. Jack tried to read her expression and it wasn't until she spoke that he understood her reluctance to let the butler go with them. "If he comes back with so much as a crease on his jacket, I swear I will–"

"We'll take good care of him, don't worry." Sousa interjected quickly and Jack could only nod as he felt an unwelcome wave of guilt surge over him.

"Well, lead the way." Jarvis said, before Tonya could make any further protest.

She looked on as Sousa opened the door and the butler ducked in, commenting: "Well, this will be novel. I haven't been in the back of a car in years."

Just before he got into his own seat, Jack turned to look back at her as she stood anxiously in the doorway. She looked smaller, worried, and a sudden urge to reassure her somehow. With Sousa there, however, there was little he could say without prompting unwanted questions.

"We'll probably want to speak to you to afterwards." he nodded at her and she looked less unfamiliar as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, you know from experience that I won't come as quietly as Jarvis has."

As he pulled away from the house, Jack smirked to himself as he remembered how she had quite willingly run to his car the last time he had needed to speak to her.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

"Do you think there's time to grab a cake?" Tonya asked as she peered into the automat and spied the treats in the vending machines within.

"Miss Carter seems to want to proceed with the mission as quickly as possible, so I'm afraid there probably isn't," Jarvis replied. "Though, I will admit, they do have a rather good lemon drizzle that I'm in the mood for right now."

Jarvis honked the horn to announce their arrival as Peggy appeared distracted by a waitress while she hovered in the doorway. "Didn't Agent Thompson buy you dinner on your outing? Ana was keen to know where you were, so I'm afraid she'll insist you fill her in on the details when we–"

But at that moment, Peggy came through the revolving doors and towards the car, so Jarvis leapt out and started to run around the front of the car to open her door for her.

"Too late!" Peggy called when she reached it first and Jarvis returned rather defeatedly to his own seat, prompting Tonya to hold in her laughter for the poor butler's sake.

He seemed rather offended as he started the car. "Miss Carter." he greeted her stiffly.

"Mr Jarvis." Peggy returned.

Since it seemed no one else was going to say it: "Miss Stark." Tonya piped up in her best impression of a British accent. It was rather good, if she did say so herself – she had been coached by Jarvis himself, after all, when she'd had to learn it for a film.

Peggy turned in her seat to look at her with a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Peg." Tonya smiled sarcastically.

"When I received your call," Jarvis offered an explanation on her behalf. "I assumed you'd want the mission team reassembled, as it were."

"Oh, is that what we are?" Peggy looked half-annoyed, half-amused. "Mr Jarvis, this particular part of the mission requires stealth, and I'm not sure a well-known Hollywood film star exactly fulfils that criteria!"

"I've brought my hat!" Tonya reasoned, holding up the veiled garment for Peggy to see. "These are also my inventions we're trying to get back, so I'd quite like to be involved, thank you very much."

Peggy frowned in thought momentarily, but the question she'd been about to ask was washed out of her mind by the sudden fanfare blasting through the radio Jarvis had just turned on. It was that ridiculously sensationalised Captain America show. She'd rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than this waste of airtime.

"I nearly went for that part you know," Tonya mused when Betty Carver's voice drawled through the speaker. "I'd have played you better than she does, Peg."

"Well, I'm quite glad you didn't honestly. This show makes me grind my teeth, honestly, who writes this rubbish?" the agent huffed as she clicked the radio off.

"I rather enjoy it, actually," Jarvis admitted, before hurriedly continuing. Although the real thing is considerably more impressive."

"Smooth, Jarvis..." Tonya muttered with a snort.

Peggy fixed the butler with a suspicious look. "Are you trying to butter me up, Mr Jarvis?"

"Merely pleased to receive your call."

"Well, you are faster than a train."

"How flattering."

Peggy glanced around the car. "It's very nice. You did dispose of the old car?"

Jarvis nodded. "I left it in Hoboken with the keys in the ignition. I don't imagine it's still there. It did seem a terrible waste, though."

"You got rid of the cream Chevrolet?" Tonya gasped. "Oh, that is a shame. I'll let one of you two break that news to Howard – he loves that car."

"He'll get over it, or buy a new one," Peggy shrugged. "Besides, it was used in the commission of a crime. One doesn't park that sort of thing in a garage."

"Cedar Grove," Jarvis remarked as he looked at the trees lining the road they were on. "Aptly named."

"You might hurry. We don't have much time," Peggy implored. "I'm afraid Agent Thompson can be rather persuasive."

"Oh, I don't believe Agent Thompson has been persuading anyone other than Miss Stark for the past few hours." Jarvis said with a smirk and Tonya glared at the back of his head.

Peggy looked at Jarvis, then Tonya, then back at Jarvis again, frowning all the while. "What on earth do you mean?"

"Jack took me to a sandwich bar to ask about mine and Howard's connection with Hugh Jones." Tonya explained flatly, sincerely hoping there would be no further questions.

"For two hours..." came Jarvis' unhelpful input.

Peggy was staring at her in disbelief. "You had dinner with Thompson?"

"Well, it was more like a late lunch, but–"

"Hang on, did you just call him 'Jack'?!"

"Oh, I think we're here!" Tonya had never been more grateful to locate a van of glowing explosives (and strangely enough, she could actually say that, given it had technically happened once already).

The agent was successfully distracted once more and turned back to look at the road as they approached the address they'd been heading for. "Down the road – pull up by the side." she instructed Jarvis.

"and here we are again." the butler sighed as he stopped the car and Peggy pulled out a pair of binoculars to peer into the darkness.

"Fewer guards than Roxxon, at least." she noted.

"Shall I leave the engine running in case you trigger another implosion?"

"Mr Jarvis, go home to your wife. If you leave now, you may just catch the end of Benny Goodman." Tonya failed to contain a snort of laughter, provoking Peggy to turn to her. "You too, Tonya, I'm afraid you're just too recognisable. I'm sorry, but we really can't risk our cover being blown."

"Miss Carter, when you called me, I assumed it was because you needed more than a cab. I thought I– we," Jarvis corrected himself after a prod from Tonya. "I thought we proved rather useful last time."

"I agree, but on this occasion, I've got my own ride home."

There was a moment of silence in the car after Peggy closed the door and began walking towards the isolated house. "Hang on, is she really planning to drive a truck full of explosives back to the middle of New York? All it takes is a reckless driver and half the city gets compressed into a lump of skyscrapers!" Tonya frowned.

"While I truly admire Miss Carter's skills in espionage and do not doubt her commending record," Jarvis said, gazing thoughtfully at the now empty road ahead of them. "I quite agree – this plan is severely flawed."

Tonya shrugged. "We'd better stick around to help patch it up, then."

Jarvis nodded eagerly. "Yes, I think we should."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Tonya felt strangely on edge; Jarvis reminded her at the minute of an over-excited puppy, which wasn't a bother in itself, but she believed there was more than just the present mission on his mind. Just as it seemed he was going to make another remark about today's dining events, a further thought to her previous statement appeared in her mind.

"I think we should probably do something about the van of explosives, you know," she mused. "Peggy really can't just drive it away and someone else may even beat her to it – who knows what could happen then."

Jarvis, apparently removed from his previous thoughts, nodded slowly and then, quite simultaneously, they both got out of the car and snuck over to the milk-truck parked by the house. As quietly as they could, they lifted the bonnet of the truck and smoothly removed what they knew was a vital component of the car's motor. Tonya had never given it much thought before, but she was particularly grateful in this moment for her and Jarvis' working compatibility; as their butler, Jarvis often found himself in the Starks' lab, having been roped in to give them a hand when he'd simply come down to try and urge them to bed. Since this was practically every other night, he'd learnt a thing or two from the pair and also exactly how to work with them without ruffling any feathers – they weren't exactly known to be the most cooperative people, Howard and Tonya.

Suddenly, a door slammed somewhere, and they swiftly ducked around the back of the van as a shadowy figure – that was definitely not Peggy – ran out of the house and attempted to start the truck. Listening to his failed attempts, Jarvis and Tonya grinned triumphantly at one another in the dark.

"Get out." They heard Peggy's voice from around the truck and the unmistakeable thud of her slamming whoever the man was into the side of the vehicle. "Car trouble?" she enquired sarcastically.

Jarvis chose this moment to saunter into view and lean on the truck in an amusing attempt at suaveness. "Nothing that can't be fixed."

Peggy's head snapped around. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Mr Stark asked me to help you and so I have," he held up the engine component as demonstration. "I sabotaged the motor. I thought you'd be more impressed."

"Well, I'm not," she snapped. "I told you: I don't need your help."

Jarvis drew himself up to a dignified pose. "An ideal butler provides service without being asked."

By now, Tonya had come to stand beside Jarvis. "That he does." she noted.

The man who Peggy had learnt to be Leet Brannis didn't seemed to have noticed Tonya before, but now his eyes widened at the sight of her and he made a sudden wild lurch in her direction; Peggy drove the barrel of her pistol into his forehead to force him back as the actress' eyebrows shot up. Jarvis pulled Tonya back a little, unnerved by the fact that she hadn't seemed to sense the danger she was in, as she had not moved away from Brannis after his leap at her.

"Try anything like that again and I'll shoot you." Peggy warned. Brannis motioned for her to bring his voice device up to his throat and after digging in his pockets, she obliged.

"I refuse to cooperate if she is part of this." the almost robotic voice offered as an explanation.

"Whyever not?" Peggy demanded, but when there was a lack of answer from him, she turned to Tonya. "Have you met this man before?"

Tonya narrowed her eyes a little as she peered at him, Jarvis looking antsy behind her as she got worryingly close to the man. "I don't think so."

"He's not one of your...?" Peggy trailed off, raising an eyebrow as a finish to her question.

The actress laughed at the classically British evasion of direct questions on such matters; Peggy and Jarvis were more similar than they realised. "No, I don't usually go for dark hair."

Peggy looked amused. "Is that out of modesty?"

"Of course, it is," Tonya replied sarcastically with a smirk and then went on. "Well, blondes are my type, really. Though, I'd be happy to make an exception, Peg, if you'd consider wearing that wig from the other night more often." she winked.

Peggy smirked and glanced down momentarily. "Of course, you would," She then cleared her throat to resume the matter at hand. "Mr Jarvis, put that back, I need to drive this thing out of here."

Tonya frowned now, looking uncharacteristically solemn. "Peg, are you really going to drive a truck full of nitramine into the middle of New York?"

The agent hesitated momentarily as though she was seeing her plan for the first time. "Maybe not, but we at least need to get it away from here."

"Well, why not just call the S.S.R. to come to us?"

"Tonya, if you and Mr Jarvis are going to insist on following me on these missions then I would be much happier if you would do as I say."

Tonya sighed. "Fair enough, but, Peg," she sounded so serious that Peggy turned to face her without being prompted. "I know how dangerous this stuff is. You've got to trust me when it comes to the inventions."

Peggy stared back at her as though waiting for Tonya's grave face to crack into a smile; it did not. "I do," she nodded. "But you've got to trust me when it comes to the S.S.R.. Mr Jarvis, could you put it back, please?"

Jarvis hesitated only momentarily to glance at Tonya who simply shrugged in a defeated sort of way, before nodding. "I won't be a moment."

The agent turned back to Brannis as Tonya came to stand between her and Jarvis should he require any assistance in reassembling the engine. "Where are Stark's inventions?"

"I want protection." Brannis' automated voice demanded.

"The S.S.R. will take you in provided that you say something interesting right bloody now." Peggy spoke through gritted teeth.

"Pst!" Jarvis whispered theatrically, making Tonya smirk. "Ask him about Leviathan."

Peggy asked reluctantly. "Who is Leviathan?"

"Not who, what." Brannis corrected.

Tonya frowned. "Your employers?"

Brannis seemed to be refusing to look directly at her as he stared over the top of Peggy's head at nothing, but he answered her nonetheless. "Not anymore."

"So, Leviathan sent you to rob Howard's vault and you double-crossed them?" Peggy peered at him dubiously, but she was clearly rather impressed. "Well, that seems incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."

Brannis smirked momentarily and then continued in his eery, electronic voice. "Leviathan only wanted one thing from the Starks."

"The Starks?" Peggy's head snapped to look at Tonya questioningly, but at that moment Jarvis slammed the bonnet of the van back into place.

"All finished." he announced.

"Well, fetch Mr McFee, I need to take him in too." Peggy ordered, before turning back to Brannis, apparently not expecting any kind of explanation from Tonya. "What was the one thing? What was Leviathan after?"

Brannis spoke slowly and deliberately now, evidently rather stubborn on the matter. "I want protection."

"Then start talking." the agent retorted in the same manner of speech.

"Ask him what he has against me, I'm curious."

But before they could indulge Tonya's curiosity, Jarvis came running back to the from the house. "Er, bit of a snag, actually," he said breathlessly. "I'm afraid Mr McFee's left the premises. I did find this." He held up a shotgun.

"Hm, don't shoot yourself in the face," Peggy mocked and then shoved Brannis towards the front of the truck. "Get in the truck."

Tonya did her best to suppress a smirk when Peggy suggested the butler sit in the back among the explosives after herself and Mr Brannis had taken the seats in the front. For the sake of her friend's dignity, Tonya kept him company behind the transparent curtains as Peggy held the gun to Mr Brannis driving in the front.

"Comfortable back there, Mr Jarvis? Tonya?" Peggy chimed a few minutes into their journey.

"Perfectly, thank you," Jarvis replied rigidly. "These racks of explosives have distracted me from the smell of stale milk."

"Oh, good – you did say you wanted to help." the agent reasoned smugly.

Tonya snorted, but did her best to keep still as she noticed Jarvis eye the explosives warily every time she moved just a tad too quickly. "True, but I'm not sure this was what we had in mind, Peg. Also, I can still smell the stale milk."

Peggy rolled her eyes and addressed the captive driver. "Take the Lincoln Tunnel back to Manhattan and stop fidgeting; nothing's going to happen."

"You know what's funny?" Tonya piped up. "In the movies, people always say that right before something–"

A loud clanging thud prompted all four heads in the car to jerk upwards to the roof of the vehicle.

"–happens."

Poking his head between the plastic curtains, Jarvis raised his eyebrows quizzically. "Did any of you hear that?"

Tonya and Peggy both opened their mouths to reply in indignant disbelief, because of course they heard that, but quite suddenly a bullet ricocheted inside the van and they all jumped. "Well, I definitely heard that!" exclaimed the agent. Clambering out of the window in a rather impressive fashion considering the restrictive skirt she was wearing, Peggy shouted at Brannis. "Shake him loose!"

The actress slid into the seat Peggy had vacated, preparing to intervene on the driving if Brannis tried anything funny. However, the man did as Peggy said and accelerated the van as the agent attempted to climb up to meet their attacker on the roof, but she was thrown onto the bonnet by a shot and her gun was lost on the road.

Turning to Jarvis, Tonya snatched the shotgun from his hands and rushed back to the passenger window. "Jarvis, hold my legs!"

"Hold your what?!"

But before he had time to give it further question, Tonya was leaning dangerously out of the window with the shotgun, attempting to get a clear shot at Peggy's attacker. She shot him in the arm, which incapacitated him long enough to prevent him from shooting Peggy as she recovered herself from her tumble onto the bonnet.

The butler rushed into the front of the van to prevent Tonya from falling onto the road and he turned to yell at Mr Brannis. "Pull over!" The man ploughed on resolutely as though he hadn't even heard Jarvis and so the butler went on. "If you do not pull over this instant, we will have no choice but to shoot you!"

By now, Peggy had managed to haul herself onto the roof and Tonya was finding it increasingly difficult to shoot at the man on the van without hitting Peggy. Another bullet ricocheted into the van, snapping one of the straps securing the nitramine explosives. "For God's sake, will you please stop shooting things?!" Jarvis wailed as the rack in the back of the van toppled dangerously. Tonya considered getting Jarvis to help her back inside the van as she realised the explosives wouldn't stay inactive for long at this rate.

Suddenly, the safety net that was Jarvis disappeared as Brannis was shot in the shoulder by a third bullet and the truck swerved dangerously on the road. The butler instinctively jumped to grab the wheel, letting go of Tonya in the process, and she gave an alarmed shriek as she fell backwards out of the window. Only just catching herself before she hit the concrete they were speeding over, she dropped the shotgun in favour of hauling herself back up to the window.

"Thanks a bunch, Jarvis, your service is very much appreciated!" she yelled sarcastically, as the butler held out one hand to help her back into the vehicle, keeping the other on the wheel Brannis was slouching on. Tonya got in just in time to see one of the orbs roll off its rack and crack as it hit the floor. She and Jarvis shared an alarmed look as the device began to emit a high-pitched whistle.

"Miss Carter?!" Jarvis cried.

"I hear it!" came Peggy's voice from the continued fight above them. There was a thud and then: "Get Brannis! Jump clear!"

Looking out of the front window, Tonya saw a sharp turn in the road ahead and realised Peggy's plan. It was clear that Jarvis hadn't caught on so quickly, but before he had any time to clarify, Tonya had shoved him and Brannis out of the side of the van. Then, grabbing the wheel, she swerved the van to direct it right towards the fence lining the edge of the steep road.

Fumes were now blossoming from the fallen orb as it jerked around in the back of the van. In the nick of time, Peggy appeared at the door and reached in to yank her out and they tumbled into the road together, rolling on the concrete as the van smashed through the fence. They'd ended up dangerously close to the edge, but as the explosion erupted blindingly, they were pushed back to safer ground by a sudden rush of wind and they shielded their eyes from the flash of light.

As quickly as it had begun, the blast imploded in on itself into a swirling storm of the remains. They looked on in horror at the nothingness left behind and a thick mist hung around them in the aftermath of it.

Peggy staggered to her feet, and when she saw her friend was limping, Tonya scrambled to support her, ignoring any attempts to refuse her assistance.

"Are you alright?" Jarvis enquired as they stumbled towards him.

Tonya found she couldn't quite form words yet, and simply nodded as the tumultuous mass behind her rumbled ominously.

Peggy, on the other hand, managed to reply. "I'm fine. You?"

"Yes, I..." He turned to the figure splayed out on the ground. "I'm afraid Mr Brannis broke my fall."

The agent all but collapsed besides the dying man and she leaned over him imploringly. "The rest of the weapons that you stole from Howard: I need to find out where you hid them." Rummaging in his pocket, she searched for his voice device as Tonya found her own and knelt beside them.

"Mr Brannis, you're the only one who knows. We need to find them, so my brother can come home. Please, I–" she cut herself off hopelessly as she saw the mangled remains of the device in Peggy's hand. She stumbled back defeatedly and Jarvis helped pull her upright again. Staring miserably at the man on the ground, she wondered how she was managing to stand at all, but she supposed a lot of it was down to Jarvis, who valiantly had not left her side.

In one last attempt before it was too late, Peggy pleaded. "Leviathan is coming. Help me stop them."

Weakly, Brannis moved his arm to draw something in the soft dirt he was lying in. Jarvis frowned as he looked on and Tonya gazed at it as though silently pleading it to provide all the answers they would need.

"What is that?" Peggy questioned. "Mr Brannis, what is that, a heart?" A curving line was drawn through the shape and then the hand rested limply beside the symbol. "Mr Brannis..." Peggy stopped as soon as she realised she would receive no reply. Tonya stared silently at the symbol, the man on the ground and the symbol again, praying she could commit one image to memory and forget the other forever.

There was a prolonged pause and then sirens wailed distantly. Peggy was the first of the three to come to her senses. "Where is the car?"

"It's that way," Jarvis indicated. "I think we should retrieve it immediately." When he received no reaction from either of them besides Peggy checking Brannis futilely for a pulse, he pressed. "Miss Carter, please."

The sirens grew louder, a sense of urgency dawned and the two women snapped out of whatever had been gripping them. Peggy erased the symbol in the dirt and Tonya followed Jarvis around to help the agent off the ground, so the three of them could hurry back to the car as quickly as they could.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

Jack hadn't really thought about it properly until the bell jingling above the door seemed to bring him to his senses. Of course, his favourite sandwich joint had been the first place to pop into his mind at the mention of lunch, but he probably should have considered his lunch guest when making his decision. Looking around the place now, it seemed duller and plainer than he usually saw it, but maybe that was just the actress' habit of absorbing the spotlight of every room she entered. On second thought, he should have taken her somewhere fancier, somewhere she would fit in even if he didn't. His mind raced for a way to backtrack the situation he'd landed himself in, but Tonya had turned around before he had a chance to form a proper plan. However, to his utter surprise – and relief – she seemed to be smiling beneath her veil.

"This is perfect."

It was hard to tell whether she was being serious, but it always seemed that way with her. He knew for a fact though that she would not be afraid to voice her opinions if she was unsatisfied, and no such opinions were made vocal, so he returned her smile and escorted her to one of the quieter booths in the corner.

Despite her apparent satisfaction, Jack still felt the need to offer an explanation. "This was the first place I thought of. If it's a slow day at the office, I usually come here for lunch – they've got good sandwiches."

Tonya nodded with a small smile and looked around them from where they were sat. "I like it."

He wasn't sure why, but her approval of his favourite sandwich bar gave him a sense of achievement. Before he could dwell on that thought, however, someone had suddenly appeared beside their table.

"Hey, Jack."

He felt himself tense involuntarily for the first time ever on hearing this familiar voice. Ordinarily, he enjoyed the back and to flirtations he had with this waitress – it was arguably one of the reasons this joint was his favourite – but for some reason it seemed uncouth to continue the game in Tonya's company. The waitress didn't seem to care; in fact, he wondered if she'd even noticed Tonya sitting there at all, though how anyone could be blind to such a presence was unknown to him.

"Hi..." – his eyes flicked to her name badge – "...Darlene." He nodded with a smile, trying to sound casual as he glanced at Tonya who seemed engaged in the details of the menu that he had handed her from the rack by the door.

Darlene hadn't even looked at Tonya. She practically had her back to the actress as she faced Jack, as though she was trying to block her from existence. "You don't usually sit over this side. Don't you want to keep me company up at the bar?" She appeared to be forcing as many teeth as she could into her smile.

Jack chuckled nervously and glimpsed Tonya still studying the menu. He wondered whether the two women had silently challenged one another to see who could ignore the other the longest. "I'm here on business, actually, so we're just gonna order from here today." He nodded at Tonya, hoping to diffuse some of the rising tension. Darlene finally turned her head to glance at Tonya, who gave her a sarcastic kind of wave. The waitress acknowledged this with nothing more than a raise of her eyebrows before turning back to Jack.

"Ah, business," Darlene nodded in a satisfied sort of way. "Oh, Jackie, what happened to your hands?"

All three pairs of eyes were suddenly drawn to the backs of Jack's hands, which had started to bruise from his interrogation with Van Ert. The agent found himself anxiously laughing again as he generated another excuse in his mind. "Bar fight," Darlene gave an almost theatrical gasp. "Shoulda seen the other guy though."

"You should be careful getting into stuff like that," Darlene simpered. "But I bet you always win them anyway."

Jack gave another hollow chuckle and looked down in search of a menu to escape to, but there was nothing there to save him; his order was the same every time anyway – Darlene knew that. Tonya coughed pointedly, but Darlene seemed to be deaf to her side of the table.

"Er, yeah, like I said – business – so we'll order from here today, Darlene." Jack prompted, which, unsurprisingly, Darlene responded to.

"Of course," she grinned toothily again. "Are you ready to order now? Are you having your usual, Jack?"

"I'm not ready to order yet," Tonya spoke up suddenly, and Darlene's head snapped to glare in her direction. "So, if you could come back in a few minutes once I've had a look that would be great."

Considering she'd been staring at it for the majority of the last five minutes, Tonya had likely read the menu twice over by now and Darlene looked as though she'd like to voice as much. She turned back to Jack as though expecting some kind of support from him.

"Um, yeah, a few minutes would be good, thanks."

Darlene paused for a moment, as if she thought he was joking, and then she turned quite suddenly and stalked off sulkily. Jack looked back at Tonya, but her eyes had gone back to the menu. There was, what felt to Jack, a rather awkward silence, though the reason for such atmosphere escaped him and he wondered if it was just his imagination. Tonya seemed perfectly content with the situation, humming as her eyes scanned the list of sandwiches for what had to be the fifth time.

She wasn't really looking at the menu – she hadn't been at all, really. For all she knew, this place could sell a sandwich with mice in it and she'd be none the wiser. But even now the waitress had gone, her focus was on something else. Tonya knew she wasn't the most observant of people, but she'd seen an awful lot of Jack's hands today as he'd driven them there, held the door for her, handed her a menu and now he was sitting directly opposite her with them clasped in front of him. There were a few things revolving around her mind as she looked at his hands, but the thing that piqued her curiosity most were the blotchy lines of purple running across his knuckles that seemed to grow darker by the minute.

After a minute or so, she finally spoke. "So, Jackie..." She smirked slightly as Jack shuffled in an indignantly embarrassed sort of way, but she carried on before he could interrupt. "What did you do to your hands?" The look on his face told her he was only going to use the same excuse on her and so she interrupted. "and don't say it was a bar fight, because I know that's a load of bull."

She wasn't stupid. There was really only one way to get those kinds of bruises and it wasn't a casual bar fight. Peggy had told her how interrogations usually went with Jack and the Chief, which was why she had been surprised to see the blond agent walk into the room she was being held in that day; she reckoned the S.S.R. wouldn't have appreciated the reviews of the 'carrot and stick method' she would have provided to the papers the next day.

Jack was looking down as though seeing his own hands through new eyes and he made a sudden movement as if he was going to attempt to hide them under the table. If he was, he clearly realised such an action was futile at this point, and his hands remained in view on the tabletop.

"Uh..." Jack flexed his fingers and kept his eyes on his hand, if only to avoid her gaze, and chuckled humourlessly. "Some interrogations aren't exactly easy."

"Are you saying mine was easy?"

"Well, technically, yours was an interview." Jack corrected, though he didn't really believe that at this point – he doubted even Dooley did.

"Oh yes, I forgot," Tonya scoffed, though it was less derisive than previous. "Well, if you had taken that route, I suppose I could have sued you for lessening my employment rates: no one would have me in a film if my face was black and blue; this takes work you know." She gestured to her veil-covered face and flashed him a smile.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jack interjected, suddenly looking quite alarmed. "That was never the plan anyway! I'd never hit a lady, especially not you."

She wondered what had inspired the latter part of his sentence. "Well, you're one of the few men in America that holds that view, unless you're a 'behind closed doors' kind of guy," Quite suddenly, she shot him a glare so fiercely piercing that Jack very nearly squirmed in his seat. "Besides, maybe you just shouldn't be hitting anyone."

"You don't fight in the Pacific without bringing back a few habits." he reasoned.

"Hm, I never made it to that side of the war. What went down while you were over there?"

Jack's hesitation was visible and he looked as though he was fighting the urge to spill someone's secret. In the end, all that came out was a dry chuckle as he dropped his gaze and fidgeted with the menu.

"I'm not sure it's first date kind of stuff..."

"Oh, is this a date then?" Tonya hoped she'd come off playfully amused and not whatever the thumping in her chest was trying to express.

Jack looked at her again and grinned. "It can be whatever you want it to be, sweetheart."

"Can it?" she suppressed a cough as she felt her throat tighten slightly. She managed to squeeze out a casual laugh. "I'm not sure your Chief would appreciate that. Didn't you say he sent you here to ask me something?"

"Oh, yeah," Jack would never admit it, but he'd somehow completely forgotten their real reason for being there. "He wanted me to look into your connection with Hugh Jones."

Almost alarmingly, Tonya's face darkened significantly, and she sat quite rigidly, as if she was bracing herself against something disgusting. "I have absolutely no connection with that vile man."

"Well, he seems to think otherwise." Jack attempted to reason, though he was beginning to get déjà vu of their last conversation. It seemed Tonya's acting skills also extended to that of an impenetrable wall.

"and you believe the word of a slimeball like that?" she spat back.

Jack was sure they'd start drawing attention if he pushed further, but he couldn't cave on this one. The role 'in charge of all matters regarding Tonya Stark' may be passed to someone else if he failed here, and then this would be their first and last date. It would also probably be bad for the investigation. "Look, we know your brother wanted to buy one of Roxxon's refineries and now that refinery has imploded," he paused as though expecting a question here, but no such thing came; Tonya simply continued to stare back resolutely. "You gotta admit, it doesn't look good."

"What exactly are you insinuating? That Howard had a hissy fit and blew up some fat cat's factory?"

Boy, she sure got touchy where her brother was concerned. That didn't make this entire situation, which revolved completely around the man in question, easy at all. "I'm not insinuating anything," he began carefully. "I'm just asking if you can shed a little light onto the matter, give us your side of the story – you know, for your brother's sake."

He immediately regretted his last remark. She'd just started to look as though she may be willing to talk, but as soon as he made his final comment her eyebrows furrowed once more and she fixed him with a stony glare. "Don't patronise me, Thompson, I know whose side you're really on."

"It's Agent."

"Oh, I thought it was Jack?" she quipped. "or have we gone backwards since our dance?"

An involuntary smile jumped to Jack's face at the memory and Tonya couldn't help but return the expression. There was a pause in which each felt as though their heads were both full and empty simultaneously.

"Fine," Tonya caved. "If it's really so important, Hugh Jones and Howard were good friends both in and out of business. Howard was going to buy one of his refineries – the deal was almost done until Jones made, what some would call, 'unwanted advances' on me. So, naturally, Howard slept with Jones' wife and called the whole deal off."

It took Jack a moment to fully absorb this whirlwind of information. He had many questions – and, strangely, a sudden vision of Jones at his mercy in the interrogation room – but he filtered them down to the ones he deemed professional. "Hang on, Stark pulled out? ...of the deal?" he added hurriedly at the raised eyebrow from Tonya. "Jones said he refused his offer."

"He what?!" Tonya looked genuinely scandalised. "That lying, cheating piece of–"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack interjected hurriedly as Tonya's voice rose in volume and he felt more than one pair of eyes flick in their direction. "He said Howard tried to buy it back in January and he refused."

"Well, that's a lie," Tonya pronounced stubbornly. "You can probably find the paperwork if he hasn't burnt the evidence. Hell, we might still have our half of it lying around somewhere. But either way, Howard's the one that cut ties, not Jones."

"Alright," Jack nodded. "I believe you." and he did. He wasn't sure if it was the uncharacteristic solemnity on her face as she said it, or his newfound hatred for the Roxxon founder, or the assured existence of evidence for it, but he believed her.

Tonya looked momentarily surprised, as though she'd expected backlash. "Right," she said finally. "Good."

There was another silence and Jack glanced down at the table. It was only the sight of the menus that reminded him where they were. "Well, that was actually all Chief wanted me to ask you about, so why don't we–"

"Yeah, I should probably be getting off too, I–"

"Woah, no, hang on! You can't leave this place without trying their sandwiches, trust me, they're the best."

Tonya paused, considering this for a moment. "Well, I suppose I'll have to see if there's any truth in that claim now." and she settled herself more comfortably in the booth.

He wasn't sure why he'd asked her to stay. He'd got what he came for and he could have just gone up to the bar after she'd left and ordered his own sandwich. Darlene probably would have appreciated it. But Tonya had been the one to suggest finding a place to eat and he had brought her to what he believed was undoubtedly the best sandwich joint in the city.

The actress admitted that he had been right once they'd both been served their orders and he was pleased to see that she was evidently glad she had stayed. He'd begun to dread the return of the tense silence he'd felt before, but they quickly fell into pleasant conversation, and he kept nearly pinching himself as the entire situation still seemed so unbelievable. Not that he wanted it to end, but he wouldn't say he wasn't looking forward to rubbing this in Krzeminski's face when got back to the S.S.R.. Every now and then there was a lull in their chatter, but it was a comfortable sort of quiet and Jack was warmly reminded of the atmosphere of their dance the other night. He wondered if Tonya thought about it as much as he did.

Much too soon, Darlene had sauntered over to their table and announced with a smug smile that someone was calling for a 'Miss Stank'. Tonya went to take the call and returned a moment later, though not with good news.

"I have to go, I'm sorry," Jack's disappointment was lessened only slightly by the fact that she did look genuinely apologetic. "But thanks for bringing me to what is admittedly the best sandwich bar I've ever been to."

Jack couldn't help but grin. "and exactly how many sandwich bars have you been to?"

"Don't underestimate my love of sandwiches, Jack!" she laughed. "I didn't bring anything though, but do you think I can leave a name or something so I can come back and pay–?"

"Hey, absolutely not," Jack cut in. "I'm paying for the sandwiches, don't worry about it."

Tonya looked as though she was about to argue and then she smirked suddenly. "Is that because this was business or do you always pay on the first date?"

The agent returned a smirk of his own. "Whichever you want it to be, doll."

"Well then, it was a pleasure doing 'business' with you, Jack." she winked and with that, she left before he could even offer to drive her.

Jack stayed sat in the booth for a few minutes trying to memorise the last hour or so. Had it been an hour? It felt so much and so little all at once, he couldn't be sure. He also debated with himself on whether to bother going back to tell Dooley what he'd found out now or whether he should just call it a day and update him tomorrow. They might not have found anymore leads tonight, anyway, they could have gone home for all he knew.

His deliberations were decided for him, however, when Darlene returned to the table looking a lot less smug than the last time she'd come over. "There's a call for you too."

"Jack, we got the milk-truck driver," Sousa's voice came down the line once Jack had reached the phone. "Meet us back at the office, asap."

[☆]

Series Masterlist

It seemed they were at a dead end. They'd managed to apprehend at least one of the guys involved in the Roxxon implosion, but he was yet to prove any use to then. Despite Jack's best efforts, nothing he said seemed at all relevant and other than that, he'd made no noise except the occasional undignified yelp as Jack took a particularly hard swing at him. The Chief, however, seemed pretty insistent that the man would point them towards the next step in their investigation.

"Sorry, Chief. I pressed Van Ert pretty hard in there on Howard Stark – I don't think he ever met him." Jack admitted.

"Doesn't mean anything. Stark could have go-betweens between his go-betweens," Dooley dismissed Jack's remark with a frustrated gesture. "The same goes for that sister of his. Speaking of–" the Chief sat up, suddenly remembering something. It seemed to dawn on Jack in the same moment too. The chain of events that had followed their meeting with Hugh Jones had left them no time in between for recalling the mental memo they'd made, but it flashed back in Jack's mind now...

He'd set his glass of whiskey down on the businessman's desk after a disapproving look from the Chief and quickly attempted to redeem himself by pressing on with the investigation. "So, what came between you and Stark?"

"My wife," Jones had raised his eyebrows with a sigh. "In my opinion, anyway."

"Walk us through another opinion," Dooley had suggested. "We're interested in every angle."

Jones curled his lip resentfully at that. "Well, Stark would say it was his sister."

"Tonya?" Jack had interjected, then went on hurriedly after he received more than one reproachful look. "Tonya Stark?"

The businessman had only shrugged, evidently unwilling to dwell on that side of the matter any further, and so Jack had turned to Dooley who had given him a meaningful nod. It looked like he'd be booking another appointment to see the actress.

It seemed Dooley had decided his meet and greet was to be now.

"–go see if you can get more out of National Treasure than we got out of Hugh Jones. It might have nothing to do with this, but we're desperate for leads at the moment, and the more we know about the Starks the better." Chief inclined his head at Jack, who returned the nod and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

Slow on the uptake as per usual, Krzeminski sat up suddenly as he realised who Dooley was referring too. "I'll come." he volunteered eagerly, but Dooley waved a hand at him.

"No, you stay here, Krzeminski. Thompson's got a special role regarding Little Miss Stark's involvement."

"What, just 'cause he danced with her the other night?" Krzeminski scoffed, eyeing Thompson slyly, evidently hoping to land him in trouble. Little did he know, his first attempt had already failed.

"That's exactly why, Krzeminski." Jack winked triumphantly and grinned to himself when he heard Dooley's chuckle behind him as he swaggered out of the room. He wished he'd seen the look on Krzeminski's face before he left.

Standing next to his desk in the bullpen, he dialled the number he'd been informed was of Tonya's current residence, but he began to doubt the sources when the crisp, accented answer sounded at the end of the line.

"Jarvis residence."

Jack hesitated only slightly. The name Jarvis sounded familiar somehow – he was probably one of the many servants working for the Starks. "Is Tonya Stark there? I need to speak to her."

"May I ask who is speaking?"

This guy sounded more like security.

"I'm an agent from the S.S.R. working on the ongoing Stark investigation."

He paused as he could just make out a voice in the background as the man on the line hesitated. If it was Tonya, she might remember him from the other night.

"Tell her Agent Thompson is calling, she'll know who it is."

He sincerely hoped she did.

The reserved tone of the man on the line changed to what Jack could only describe as glee, but he supposed he must be misinterpreting it from the other end of the line. "Agent Thompson? Well, I have to say, I've heard a lot about–"

There was a sudden small kerfuffle at the other end of the line and Jack frowned at the handset, wondering whether he'd lost connection, when a familiar voice rang out.

"Jack, is that you? I assume you're calling for me."

"I am," he said with a smile she couldn't see and that he hoped she couldn't hear. "Chief wants me to speak to you about something. Can I meet you somewhere?"

"Hm, I think I could find some time," came her reply, and she continued before he could answer. "Now works quite well actually. You'll come and pick me up?"

Slightly jarred by her spontaneity, he stuttered out a reply. "Oh, um, yeah, I could–"

"Great! The address should be wherever you found this phone number – you must be rather good at your job, eh, agent?" and before he'd even had time to think of what to say next, she'd hung up.

***

Tonya was beginning to understand Jarvis' frustration at being left out of missions. Boredom rarely overcame her busy lifestyle, but when it did, it was unbearable, and so when the phone rang, she practically leapt for the handset. To her annoyance, efficient as ever, Jarvis beat her to it.

"Jarvis residence," he answered formally, holding himself straight as though the person at the other end of the line was watching him. Tonya gave a petulant huff and flopped back down onto the sofa she'd been lounging on. She sat up again when Jarvis' tone changed. "May I ask who is speaking?" As far as she knew, people tended to introduce themselves immediately on the telephone.

"Who is it?" she whispered loudly, and Jarvis shot her a rather irate look as he endeavoured to listen to both ends of the line at once. Frowning a little as he finished listening to the caller's reply, he opened his mouth to answer, but then Tonya watched as his expression changed from reluctance to one of mild amusement.

"Agent Thompson? Well, I have to say, I've heard a lot about–"

In one rapid movement, Tonya had launched herself off the couch, snatched the handset from the butler and spoken into it herself with a voice that smiled but a face that glared at the smirking man before her. "Jack, is that you? I assume you're calling for me."

"I am, Chief wants me to speak to you about something. Can I meet you somewhere?"

"Hm, I think I could find some time," she ignored Jarvis' scoff at this remark; he knew better than anyone that she had absolutely nothing to do that day. In an attempt to escape any remarks or questions from the butler, she continued quickly. "Now works quite well actually. You'll come and pick me up?"

"Oh, um, yeah, I could–"

"Great! The address should be wherever you found this phone number," she grinned. "You must be rather good at your job, eh, agent?"

With that, she hung up. As much as she tried, it was practically impossible to ignore Jarvis' enquiring look – nearly as impossible, it seemed, as it was for the butler to keep the mischievous smirk off his face.

"What?" she said eventually, trying to sound casual, but it came out more frustrated than she had meant it to.

This evidently only amused Jarvis further. "Is there to be more dancing or do I need to locate the earmuffs for when you return?"

Tonya gave a scandalised gasp, though she was now struggling to suppress her own grin and apparently a warm blush. "I thought Ana was the only risqué one between you two!"

She could tell Jarvis was going to get as much out of this situation as he could as he lingered in the hallway after helping her into her coat. He insisted he was simply being a good butler and waiting to see her out, but he didn't even attempt to hide the smirk on his face that said otherwise. However, just as they were sure Jack would be arriving, a telephone rang from within the house. Jarvis' face dropped as a grin rose to Tonya's.

"I guess you'll have to answer that."

She could see the internal battle taking place before her as he debated with himself over his next move. Eventually, his dutiful side got the better of him and he resolved to speed-walking down the hallway to answer the call. Howard would be over the moon that she'd finally got her hoax call machine to work – he'd been right when he'd said it was one to keep secret from Jarvis – it was a shame he wasn't there to see her glory. Just as the butler was out of sight, she heard the roll of tires on the driveway. Perfect timing.

She reached the car before Jack had even stopped, let alone had chance to open the door for her. He looked slightly taken aback as she dropped into the seat beside him. "Am I late or something?"

"Nope," she turned to face him and grinned. "You're right on time. Let's go!"

With absolutely no idea of where exactly they were going, Jack started the car as quickly as he had stopped and pulled out of the driveway. Tonya glanced back before they turned onto the road and saw a disappointed Jarvis reappear at the door, only just too late, and she waved with a triumphant grin on her face.

The grin soon faded, however, when she realised in her hurry that she'd forgotten her veiled hat. She huffed a little as she glared down at her incomplete outfit. She'd probably need it for subtlety too considering she was meeting a federal agent about her allegedly unlawful brother, but she felt the superficial needs were more important. It was required either way, but there was no way she was going back for it; Jarvis would never let her hear the end of it.

"You alright?"

She jumped slightly as she'd nearly forgotten Jack was there and suddenly an idea popped into her head.

"Er, yes, but we need to make a quick detour..."

***

Jack had done his research. He'd coordinated the searches of the Stark residences, so he was practically an expert at this point. Though the majority of their wealth was shared, there were a few houses in their collection that seemed to belong primarily to one of the siblings; this was one of Tonya's, though there was a hyperbolic controversy around this verdict, as particularly nosey fans had seen numerous mystery women leaving the grounds – as well as the mystery men – suggesting to them that Howard frequented the manor just as much. It was larger than the one they'd just left, but only slightly. It had more rooms, that much he remembered as he scowled up at it – the search had started to feel tedious after the eighth bedroom.

"Do you not like the décor or something?"

He turned to look at Tonya as they sat in the parked car and found her frowning at him slightly, though she still managed to convey, rather charismatically, the humour behind her question. She reminded him of Howard on the footage of his court case when he'd managed to turn the whole thing into a joke. He supposed it was a certain talent of the Starks to make light of any situation; the way her brow was already softening made it clear it was difficult for any genuine solemnity to remain on her face for long.

Unsure of exactly how long he'd been looking at her in silence, he rushed to answer her. "No, no, erm – I've been here before, actually," Jack felt as though he had to admit the fact. "when all the house-searching was going on."

"Ah, of course," Tonya remarked, suddenly bitter. "That's a downside to sharing almost everything with a troublesome brother, isn't it? He lands himself in a spot of business and my personal things get mixed up in the fuss as well. Don't you agents have documents telling you that this one is in my name? I don't think Howard has ever even stepped inside this one..."

If nothing else, Jack was sure he could make some sort of deal with the press after this – he'd be a Tonya Stark expert by the end of it all. "We felt it was wise to check everything belonging to the two of you. It's extremely likely you could have been hiding him away, after all."

"While I was in a prison cell, you mean?"

Jack desperately tried to think of a subject change, eager to steer the conversation away from any kind of hostility, particularly since he should really be keeping her sweet considering he was meant to be bringing up a potentially uncomfortable topic with her. He needn't have worried, however, as the irate expression on her face was soon broken by a grin and she elegantly slipped out of the car, informing him she'd be: "Back in a minute!"

Wasn't this where they were having their meeting? He hadn't been quite sure what to think when she'd announced the detour, and originally he had thought they'd be talking at the house he'd picked her up from. It seemed he had been wrong on both accounts. She was far more spontaneous than he'd realised and while it stirred a youthful thrill within him, he couldn't help but consider the extent of Dooley's patience and the grin that was sure to be on Krzeminski's face if he failed his special mission.

Thankfully, she wasn't gone for long and she had jumped back into her seat beside him a few minutes later. She had a large round box with her that was adorned with an excessively frivolous bow and seemed to be shedding a concerning amount of sparkly stuff onto the crisp seats of the agency's car as she took the lid off. At least it could be considered evidence if none of the guys believed he'd met with Tonya Stark.

She'd smiled at him upon her return but made no effort to explain herself; it seemed that was another thing that ran in the family. Jack's curiosity pricked him, but he didn't want to be too upfront and cause her to clamp up when he still needed information from her. Interrogation without the stick was a lot harder than he ever thought it would be. As much as he hated to admit it, Sousa's technique of going round the houses to pry information out of a suspect wasn't all that useless. He'd never tell a soul, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to give the method a try.

"Is this the one you're staying in at the moment?" he started, hoping he sounded casual. His heart sunk at his evident failure when received a raised eyebrow. "Just in case we need to find you again," he quickly reasoned. "I'm afraid it's quite likely, given the circumstances."

She smirked. "I don't mind at all if you want to see me again, but this isn't where I'd be. I'm staying elsewhere, but I wanted to come here first."

"Why?"

"Well, I couldn't let you near where Howard was hiding, now, could I?"

Jack's head snapped suddenly to face her properly and he was momentarily taken aback by the complete seriousness on her face, but it didn't last long before a wide grin split across it.

"I'm kidding! You agents are too easy," She leaned over slightly to check herself in the central mirror. "I needed this hat and I'd left it here, so I wanted to come and get it."

Jack raised his eyebrows in disbelief and mild amusement. "What d'you need that hat for?"

Tonya turned to him with a small smirk and a look that suggested the answer should be obvious. "It's the only one that goes with this dress." It probably did, but Jack decided it covered too much of her face; although, thinking about this properly, he realised that was probably the point.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I quite fancy lunch. There's no kitchen staff at this place right now and believe it or not I'm pretty useless in the kitchen – so, do you know any good places we can eat, agent?"

Was this a date? No, of course not. It was strictly professional. They were finding somewhere to eat while Jack asked the questions he needed to. It just made everything run a lot smoother.

Would he tell Krzeminski it was a date?

Absolutely.

[☆]

Series Masterlist

Tonya quirked an eyebrow as Jarvis bustled around the kitchen preparing a pot of tea. She wasn't sure if he'd realised, but he had boiled the kettle three times now and the last time she checked, there had been nothing wrong with it. Then again, she never found herself checking the kettle...

"Are you alright there, Jarvis?"

The butler jumped and Tonya became certain that she had snapped him back to reality from whatever troublesome thoughts were occupying his mind. "Yes, quite, thank you, Miss Stark."

"It's just I don't think the kettle will take much more boiling, you know."

"No," Jarvis looked down absently at the appliance in front of him. "I suppose not."

Tonya rolled her eyes and swivelled in her chair, so she was looking at him. "Right, what's the matter?"

Jarvis gave a rather melodramatic sigh and turned to face her. "I just settled Miss Carter at one of Mr Stark's less frequented manors, on his insistence."

She sat up suddenly. "You've spoken to Howard?"

Jarvis suddenly looked slightly guilty on realising he'd forgotten to mention that fact to her; considering Tonya seemed to have inherited the few considerate genes of the family, it was unlikely she had heard from him and had probably been worrying about his safety, though she never would let on to such concerns.

"Yes, apologies, it slipped my mind."

"Is he alright?"

"Perfectly fine and as safe as he can be right now."

"Was he only calling to offer Peggy a place to crash?"

Jarvis' hand crept up subconsciously to itch his ear. "Yes, that was all we spoke about, as far as I can remember."

"Hm, well, I could have let her stay in one of mine," Tonya frowned. "Which one is she staying in?"

"The one with the specialised oyster oven." As much as he enjoyed proprieties, Jarvis knew the Starks better than anyone and had realised it was practically useless to refer to things by name when attempting to jog their memory; unless it was superficial or scientific, it was unlikely it had remained in their minds for long.

"That's one of the ones he doesn't like me visiting," she raised her eyebrows and huffed a little, though she said nothing more – she was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. "I'm not sure how much Peggy will like staying there..."

"She seemed quite comfortable."

"What's the problem then? You've practically worn out the kettle – something has to be bothering you and I can't imagine Peg was much of a hassle."

"Not at all, she seems a very self-sufficient houseguest. It's just–" Jarvis sighed again. "I do wish Miss Carter had allowed me to accompany her on the next part of the mission."

Tonya had to try very hard to suppress her laughter at his moping. "You're rather enjoying the life of espionage, aren't you, Jarvis?"

"Well, if you're going to be like that..." Jarvis muttered sulkily and turned back to making the tea.

"No, no, I'm sorry, I swear I'm not laughing at you!" Tonya took the opportunity to let out a grin while his back was turned, but quickly recovered herself when he faced her again. "Wasn't she only going to look for a milk truck?"

The butler made a rather comical expression that Tonya believed he thought was somewhat mysterious. It was not at all. "Yes, but who knows what she'll find!"

"Probably just a milk truck."

"Either way," Jarvis continued regardless. "I'd rather like to be involved."

"Well, I think we can safely say that this mess is far from sorted. I'm sure there'll be more chances for you to join 'missions' in the future," she grinned, and Jarvis looked at her reproachfully. "Honestly, though, I think Peg has really warmed up to you – faster than she does with most people – you two must have some fancy British connection. She'll come back to you for help soon, don't worry."

Jarvis finally brought the teapot to the table and poured out two cups for each of them and another for his wife, who was due to come home from the shops any moment. "I do hope so."

"Hello you two!" Ana Jarvis chirped as she came into the kitchen, making them both jump; they hadn't heard her come in. She chuckled. "Did I catch you by surprise? What were you talking about?"

"Bread."

"Tea."

Ana didn't seem to catch onto their blunder and laughed airily. "Tea? But you're having tea now."

Rather comically, Jarvis and Tonya both looked down at the table as though for the first time – ah, so they were.

"I meant, I was just saying to Jarvis, that it's been ages since you and I have gone out for tea somewhere." Tonya improvised, though it was true.

Ana hummed in agreement. "Yes, you're always quite busy, aren't you?" Tonya looked a little guilty at that. She felt even worse that she'd only thought to say it as an excuse to cover a secret, but she really hadn't spent enough time with her best friend recently. Amicable as ever, Ana waved a hand in generous dismissal. "I do not blame you, my dear, you have had a lot on your plate."

"Well, not so much right now, actually," Tonya mused. Yes, she owed that much to her friend, and a good old catch up with Ana was long overdue. "Let's go now!"

"You've not finished your tea here, though." Ana noted with bemusement.

"Oh, it's fine, I know a place that does it better." she grinned mischievously at a scandalised Jarvis and Ana laughed jovially.

While she adored the attention that she gained from her habitual place in the spotlight, Tonya held a special place in her heart for the tiny little cafés in the city that rarely held more than a few customers at once, especially if two of those customers were herself and Ana. She'd never give up her life of fame – she relished it too much – but she was grateful for the anonymity a large hat and decent pair of sunglasses miraculously granted her when she desired to have tea peacefully with her friend. Though, she probably wouldn't mind too much if a particularly observant fan caught on and requested an autograph...

"Edwin tells me you went out dancing the other night," Ana knew her well enough by now to know she certainly wouldn't have been dancing on her own; Tonya looked up to see the impish smirk Ana supplied with her statement. Ordinarily, she would have returned one of her own, but she surprised herself as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. Observant as ever, it did not go unnoticed to Ana. "You really liked this one then?"

Ana always enjoyed listening to Tonya's stories of her 'romantic endeavours' – Jarvis' words – as though they were the promiscuous tales of a romance novel. She wondered with amusement whether Howard tried to share recounts of his own with Jarvis; she reckoned the butler would enjoy such stories far less than his wife. As they often did when it was just the two of them, Tonya and Ana were conversing in Hungarian. Living in America as they did now, their only reasons for speaking the language were to keep up Tonya's practice and to annoy Jarvis, who didn't know the language as well as the two of them. The latter was the main reason, as the reality was that Tonya was just as fluent in Hungarian as Ana was in English. However, Tonya did notice a nostalgic kind of comfort that overcame Ana whenever she spoke her first language, because as unsafe as it had been for her to stay, Ana still missed parts of her life in Hungary from time to time. Tonya was more than happy to keep up the little tradition in their friendship; after all, it was the reason they had come to know each other in the first place.

However, on this occasion Tonya found a new appreciation for the privacy the language granted them, as there certainly weren't many people in America who knew it and Tonya would safely bet everything she had that no one else in the café spoke a word of it. She was slightly puzzled with herself; she'd never minded too much about keeping her 'romantic endeavours' private – it's not like the press gave her much choice anyway – but something about discussing her dance the other night made her feel like a schoolgirl swapping secrets with a friend.

Tonya shrugged. "He was a good dancer." He wasn't particularly, but in fairness, he had said it was his first since the war. That was new – she didn't usually remember details like that. More often than not, she couldn't even remember their name. She saved her brain space for more important things: the most recent project for her and Howard's industry; her lines for whatever she was filming at the time; that dress she'd seen in the window of a shop on her way here with Ana; and now, apparently, the details of the life of a certain agent.

"Just a good dancer?" Ana raised her eyebrows, the smirk never leaving her face. To her perplexed annoyance, Tonya found herself blushing even harder.

"Well, to be honest, there was nothing like that at all," Tonya admitted. "We just danced."

Ana smiled knowingly, as though she has realised something that Tonya hadn't. "He must be quite special then..."

"How'd you mean?"

"Well, considering what I know of all your other little... adventures," Ana giggled. "There isn't usually a lot of dancing before the rest of the night."

"Ana!" Tonya gasped, pretending to be scandalised as she struggled to hold back a laugh at her friend's cheeky remarks. It only began to dawn on her now, but her dance with Jack had been on her mind more than she'd realised over the last few days. She usually flitted so quickly between things – all sorts of things, not just men – she didn't like to dwell, it made things... difficult. Goodness knows she'd had more than enough to think about at the moment, but now here she was, blushing like a teenager over a modest little dance in a nice club several nights ago. "He was nice..." she concluded.

Gazing at nothing in particular, she missed the glint in her best friend's eye as she smiled at her. "Well, if you ever end up dancing with him again," Ana gave her a meaningful wink as Tonya looked at her again. "You must tell me all about it."

[☆]

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Jack smirked as he and Dooley strode down the corridor; he didn't envy Krzeminski having to dig some evidence out of a giant metal scrap ball. He wondered whether Dooley had been right in thinking it was the Starks doing; that kind of technology seemed almost alien.

"I need a word with you, Thompson."

That kind of thing was never good. Jack's mind tracked rapidly through recent events to try and work out where he might have gone wrong. He'd learnt quite quickly from a young age that staying on the good side of your superiors got you better chances in life, so he was usually very careful to keep it that way. As he came to a halt at Dooley's indication, he tried not to let his apprehension show as he struggled to think why the Chief might be displeased with him.

"I heard you were getting pretty close with Stark at Spider Raymond's the other night."

Jack frowned in confusion. The mission report had already been filed, the Chief knew what had gone down. "Yeah, well we thought we had been, but like we said, the invention was gone by the time–"

"No, no, no," He was cut off as the Chief waved his hand dismissively. "I meant the broad: Tonya, I heard she was there, and you were apparently more interested in her than her brother's invention."

Ordinarily, Jack would have been trying to figure out whether Krzeminski or Yauch was more likely to have ratted him out, but currently his mind was recalling the feeling of Tonya so close to him as they danced around the club. He wondered how many men had been lucky enough to say they'd danced with Tonya Stark – well, probably quite a few, come to think of it.

Dooley's irritated tone, raising in volume by the second, unpleasantly snatched him from his thoughts. "Now I know your plan was everyone feeling 'real comfortable' on this mission, but I thought you were talking exclusively about Raymond when you said that. I didn't realise you'd meant yourself too."

Jack realised he'd need a solid excuse to get himself out of this one; Krzeminski's focus hadn't exactly been primarily on the mission, but it never looked good to drag a man down to the gutter with you. "I thought I'd be able to get a bit more information from her, Chief, since it wasn't like the interrogation, so she might have been a bit more willing to talk."

"Interview," Dooley corrected. "and I don't care what you thought, Thompson, I care about what you found out."

Jack hesitated. "Well, she didn't say much, but–"

"But at least you had a good time dancing with her, is that right? Look, I like you, Thompson, alright? You're one of the few agents that I know I can count on, but that's gonna start to change if you keep slipping up and wasting mission time like this, you hear?"

"Yes, sir. It just didn't seem appropriate to reject Stark after we'd already upset her that day."

As soon as he said this, Jack's mind jumped to ways of backtracking at the irate look on Dooley's face at another excuse, but the tension dwindled as Dooley's expression changed to one of intrigue.

"Reject her? What, she asked you to dance?"

Jack nodded slowly, unsure of the relevance of this detail, but jumping on the distraction from Dooley's exasperation. There were a few moments of silence as Dooley thought this over and Jack almost jumped when the man's hand landed on his shoulder.

"We can work with this," the Chief mused, patting the agent's shoulder thoughtfully. "It might not be much to go on, but don't it seem weird that she asked to dance with the man who she was apparently furious with for interrogating her only hours before?"

'Interviewing...' Jack thought to himself, deciding it wasn't the moment to correct the Chief out loud.

He watched the shorter man in fascination as he pointed a finger at him, almost gleefully. "She might be soft on you, Thompson, or at least, you're her current 'person of interest', shall we say?"

Jack felt like he should try and deny this but found himself unable to form words; maybe he didn't want to deny it.

"You might've been onto something, Thompson. Krzeminski made you sound like some buffoon wasting my time, but I knew that could never be you." Jack didn't even have the headspace to make a mental note to have some words with Krzeminski later for grassing him to the Chief – he was far too enthralled in what the Chief was going to say next in regard to Tonya. "I'm gonna put you in charge of all matters regarding Tonya Stark, how's that sound?"

He had hardly registered the question. 'In charge of all matters regarding Tonya Stark'. He certainly liked the sound of that. "Whatever you say, Chief." He managed to nod his submission to the statement.

Dooley grinned – he seemed almost as elated as Jack by this new development, though for an entirely different reason, Jack was sure. Wait, no – it wasn't different. They were both pleased for the sake of the investigation, for the advance in the mission. That's why Jack was happy, what other reason would it be?

"You can go rub that in Krzeminski's face, if you like: sly jerk thought he was getting you into trouble when in fact he just landed you a pivotal role in our investigation!" Dooley patted his back and walked off. Jack would have usually been grinning at such an opportunity to lord something over someone, especially Krzeminski, but it wasn't this that had him smiling: 'in charge of all matters regarding Tonya Stark' – he'd certainly be seeing a lot more of her than he'd previously thought.

[☆]

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