“You have an appointment with Saunders and Marley on Tuesday at seven pm. It’s a dinner meeting at Masa, I’ve already made reservations at your favorite table. You need to wear the blue tie with the silver clip with your suit. I’ll have it brought to you by five at the latest. No sneakers, all right?”

“Uh huh.”

Paperwork shuffled back and forth importantly in a subtle attempt to draw his attention. It went unnoticed. “And you’ve missed another board meeting this morning. This is the third time this month, JJ. I know you didn’t forget, Jarvis had explicit instructions to remind you.”

“Yeah.”

There was a slow exhale of fading patience. “Are you going to get back to OsCorp? They’ve left another request to touch base wi-”

“Okay.”

“Joshua James Stark!”

Uh oh, the full name. Blue eyes tore away from the holographic image of a target and down to the small screen projecting one frowning Pepper Potts. The few lines that crossed her face were soft and gentle, catching the corners of her mouth and eyes. She was dressed in a simple but stark black suit, different from her usual attire, which meant she had come from said meeting. He heard her, didn’t mean he had to act like he did. Her long strawberry hair had been pulled back into a low bun, carefully combed and sprayed into place, not a single hair out of line. She had a few streaks of silver along her temples, the only real give away to her age. Pepper had aged gracefully and beautifully. He met her severe gaze softened by the lullaby blue of her eyes, his a mirror of color and smiled as sweetly as he could.

“Sorry mama bear, I’m just a little…” His eyes flicked to his right, “Busy!” There was the high pitch sound of a familiar buildup of energy; a reverberation he felt in his chest and a warmth that spread out to his fingers and toes. The red target blipped out of his vision at the release of energy and he muttered a quick exclamation of accomplishment under his breath.

Pepper’s frown deepened, she seemed to be doing too much of that lately. He saw her lean forward unconsciously as if she could peer further than the screened allowed and noticed she was wearing small earrings in the shape of an arc reactor. “Where are you?”

“Bangladesh, I think, or just north of it.” Joshua returned casually. “No, make that east, I can see the sun. I should take you out here one of these days. You know, when I’m not dodging bogeys at mach three.” He leaned his head to the right and continued, the ease of his conversation starting to become disconcerting. “It’s really kinda pretty and they make fantastic Machher Jhol.”

“JJ.”

He could hear the taxing reprimand in her voice as she said his name with clear distinction of each letter. “Oh hey - sorry mom.” His voice cut in and out. “Going - a tunnel - losing you. I can’t - gotta go, call you la- love you.” He cut the feed with a quick nod, indicating Jarvis to do so and the screen vanished into the blanketing darkness around him. With a pleased grin, JJ raised his hands to the silver and blue helmet he currently wore and when he heard the familiar whirl of screws and hinges being undone, he pulled it off his head. Taking a quick breath, he blinked against the sudden change of light in the lab/garage/work area of the Avengers Towner and set the beast beside him on a work bench. That thing was getting heavier every time he picked it up. Never mind how warm it got when it wasn’t connected to the rest of the suit. Joshua scrubbed a hand through his wild hair in a vain attempt to smooth it.

A melody of whirling gears and clicks sang across the room as a large bipedal green robot wheeled across the expansive space, sliding close to the man as he yanked on a length of wire from underneath his shirt. “Shit,” he muttered and slid his hand back the black shirt letting it ride up as he fiddled with something. Through the dark material a faint circle of blue glowed steadily behind a faded Ramones logo. The light flickered once and he exhaled sharply before it returned to normal. The robot paused in it’s energetic attention of wiping a dirty cloth across the top of the pristine helmet and looked to him. The small screen of animated eyes blinked and tilted down.

“I’m fine,” he replied to the silent question as he reached for a screwdriver. “Hey, hey, hey, use a clean rag you lug nut.” He scolded, his tone absent of any malice. JJ flipped the tool over in his hand, a silver bracelet dangling from his wrist and tightened a screw in the metal frame surrounding his left hand and arm to his elbow. Skeletal in structure, he had stripped the gauntlet to it’s bare bones, using his node as a power supple to test it out. Tossing the screwdriver on the war zone of a table, it was instantly lost in the litter of metal casings, wiring, various mechnical parts and coffee cups. Scooting his work bench back with a loud scrap, JJ stood and tugged on the ratty jeans he wore. Torn, ripped, stained and spoiled, they had seen better days but were the most comfortable pair he owned and along with a pair of dark blue sneakers and long sleeved shirt beneath his band t-shirt, he was the epitome of laze.

"Jarvis."

"Yes, sir?" The posh and complacent bodiless voice echoed from the ceiling.

"If mom calls again, forward her to voicemail number seven and hold the rest of my calls." JJ dug around the remains of a gutted toaster for a particular screw roughly the size of a microscopic flea. He didn't want to talk to her, especially about work as their conversations eventually drifted to it. Faking an assignment would give him a couple of days of reprieve.

"For how long sir, sir?"

"Forever sounds about right."

"As you wish."

If he hadn't grown up under the AI's proverbial feet, he'd have thought he detected a note of sarcasm in the bland words. “Better move DeeDee, you’re in the line of fire.” The robot hunched slightly and with a pronounced grind of gears, made it’s way to the opposite side of the work bench, smearing a spot of grease along the helmet. The man sighed and refrained from rubbing his forehead before standing in a quick bracing pose and raised his hand. “Double the punch, double the pleasure, take two.” He held his breath as the repulsor built up energy in a slow whine before being released in a crackle of energy. It sliced across the room, sending papers flying and him stumbling back a step as it slammed into the far wall, disintegrating the clipped Iron Man articles he had pasted to the cement barrier. JJ stared at the gaping smoking hole that had gone through the reinforced wall, leaving a circle of light coming in from the other side.

“Whoops."

“That Reykjavik job, that was you?”

“How’d you hear?”

“A father always knows, Cash.”

Cassius Fury smiled to himself as he sprinted through the crosswalk, his eyes fixed on the flashing red hand counting down the seconds until the tidal wave of cars would no longer be held back. His close-cropped back hair was still damp from the shower that followed his game of tennis doubles at the gym with a couple of acquaintances. He hadn’t held back – and accidentally broke the mesh of his racket and put a dent into the wall of the tennis court. That was a good time to stop. A clean pair of bright green track pants draped over his bright orange tennis shoes as they pattered against the pavement, finally stepping on the curb on the other side of the crosswalk just as the light turned green. Cash clutched two paper bags, one in each hand, as a Bluetooth blinked in his ear, partially hidden by the hood of his black windbreaker.

“One of your buddies at work told you, didn’t they? I thought I was under their radar… or that retirement would slow you down.” Cash laughed.

“I’ve always got my eye on you, Cassius. You should know that. But with you being a freelancer, it just causes me to be more… creative.” There was the sound of ice clinking against glass as his father took a sip. “Where are you off to now?”

“JJ’s. I haven’t seen him for a day or two.”

“What is that, some new kind of record?” Nick asked.

Cash snickered. “Yeah, I’m starting to get the shakes. I need my fix.”

Cash’s father made a noise that was a cross between a dry laugh and a grunt. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Bye, Papa. Love ya.” A beep signaled that Nick had hung up, and Cash continued on his way, the shadow of the Avengers’ tower shading him as he approached. If JJ were anyone else, he would be at work. But then, again, so would Cash. Neither the son of Stark or Fury were what one could consider average, though, and neither was their friendship. There was not a single moment in Cash’s life that he could recall when JJ Stark was his best friend. He was the one that could be relied on when Mama and Papa didn’t understand, who would support Cash being reckless once in a while (or, hell, every single day), and the one who would directly tell him when he was being an ass.

Admittance to the tower was easy. Though it was the headquarters for the Avengers, Cash was in and out as often as some of its residents. Jarvis’ voice greeted the young man as he approached the elevators. “Hey J. Hope you’re doing well today.” Even though Jarvis and DeeDee weren’t human, Cash couldn’t help but treat them as though they were. Who was to say they didn’t respond well to empathy? “May I ask where JJ is?” Garage. Of course he was. Cash was whisked away in the elevator without a single complaint. Cash could bug JJ whenever, and JJ could (and often did) suddenly pop up when Cash least suspected it.

The elevator arrived at the floor, the doors opened, and before Cash could step out, he heard the tell-tale whine and then impact of what could only be JJ’s technological orchestrations. Releasing a small sigh and encouraged to find that he hadn’t been impaled by shrapnel, the freelance spy stepped out of the elevator. “If you’ve hurt yourself, I’m making you watch me eat all of this licorice I brought while we wait for the ambulance.”

“Sir, you have a guest.”

“Not now, Jarvis.” Squinting through the filtering dust cloud, JJ gave a quick sweep of his hand through the air to disperse the rest before DeeDee decided to play maid again. He really couldn’t afford another mop to the face, he could still taste lemons from the last time. The man tilted his head to stare through the hole in the wall, tracing the edges of the cracked cement with a scrutinizing furrow of his brow. The hole was uncannily precise as if he had simply cut a shape out but upon closer inspection, cracks spider webbed out in an abstract pattern taking out smaller chunks and divest. He was already running the schematics through his head, flipping through blueprints he had committed to memory without having to bring them up via hologram. Curling his fingers, he tested the strength return of the pistons when the friendly jest cut through his concentration.

“You’re not that cruel,” he returned as he bent his arm, pointing his palm and repulsor up toward the ceiling, tugging on the wire that slid underneath his shirt. He grinned cheekily. “You should have been here half an hour ago. I went halfway across the room. Beat my record by seven point two inches. Also, that better be licorice rope or we are no longer friends. DeeDee, no!”

The robot had circled up to Cash, giving a quick friendly wave before reaching toward one of the bags in his hand, intent to snatch it away as it raised the cleaning cloth in the air, giving a slow wiggle as a distraction. At the even tempered call out, it looked over her shoulder and the animated eyes widened in a blink before dropping her head and hands as if a guilty and slowly wheeled away.

“I don’t know what’s up with her and bags.” JJ frowned briefly, taking note of what his friend was wearing and returned to his work bench, scouring for another screwdriver. “She’s been hoarding them for the past week like some sort of deranged squirrel and what the hell are you wearing? You are literally assaulting all my senses right now, day glo.”

And there he was, eyeballing his a clean-cut hole in the wall and (as far as Cash could tell) still in one piece. Oh, JJ. His propensity for destruction, especially that of his own home, was unlike anything that Cash knew. Gods were less deliberately vengeful than JJ was at experimental ruin. This didn't detract from them friendship; in fact, Cash was pretty amused by it as long as there was no harm done. In fact, some of Cash's fondest memories of childhood was JJ pulling him along on some ill-advised tinkering that eventually ended in their eyebrows being seared off or that one time that Cash's keyboard was reduced to a puddle of molten plastic.

Good times.

However, that didn't mean that it wasn't fun to play exasperated... except when Cash was exasperated. This was not one of those times. "You don't know me. I could be." Cash rebutted, exaggerated hurt apparent in his voice. "The licorice could be a ruse. A false comfort I provided in case you were bleeding out." But then, one of his dark eyebrows arched towards the heavens, lips parted. "What are you even doing? Remodeling?" He looked pointedly to the glaring hole in the wall and then back to his friend. "You know, there's a safer way to -- Hey, DeeDee!"

Cash was in and out of the Stark household so much growing up that he regarded both Jarvis and DeeDee as eccentric pets. He always had a soft spot for DeeDee -- Maybe because of the exaggerated and insincere abuse JJ always hurled at her. None of it was meant, of course, but that didn't mean that the black-haired young man didn't like to dote on the helping robot. He shifted one of his bags onto his wrist to return her wave just as JJ's sharp reprimand caught both of their attentions. Snickering, Cash crossed to one of the workbenches that wasn't as severely cluttered as the others.

"I'll let you have the bags when we're done, sweetie. We won't let mean JJ discourage your collection, will we? Noooo..." Cash's eyes flickered back to his friend, accompanied by a sarcastic grin. "Alright, the licorice wasn't a ruse. And yes, it's ropes." He reached into the bag and pulled out a fistful of individually wrapped confections, shaking them at his friendly as the wrappers crinkled. "I also brought some salads, yours with an ungodly amount of extra crispy chicken strips, and a sixer of IPA." Cash began pulling the food from the bag just as he began to answer JJ's final question.

"They're called workout clothes, thank you very much. I like bright colors." The freelance spy pulled JJ's salad, a container brimming with sliced deep fried chicken breast atop a scant bed of lettuce, carrots, and radishes. He threw the licorice ropes on top, grabbed a plastic fork, and pulled a bottle of the IPA from its carrier. Offering it to JJ, Cash followed up, "I just came from playing a game of doubles. You should join me sometime -- then I'll look badass for a change."

He hadn’t quite looked his friend in the eye, quick, slightly judgmental wary glances to him brought on by the second night of no sleep. Maybe Cash wouldn’t notice he was still wearing the same clothes from the last time they saw each other. Granted, he took a impromptu shower between then; no thanks to a overzealous robot and a can of WD-40, but the same stained clothes went back on. He didn’t have time to head back up for new clothes, not if he wanted to finish the newly refurbished repulors of his tank suit today. Weary eyes drifted again, nearly glassy as he focused through the haze to finish and he was drawn back to the metal frame around his arm. He had tightened the straps around his wrist tightly and could feel the edges cutting into him slowly through the long thin long sleeve of his shirt. That wasn’t his main focus and he would ignore the bruises he’d no doubt have later.

Cash was observant, always was, and JJ made sure he couldn’t see the hitch of his leg against the stool he was readily ignoring. There wasn’t a need to tell the guy that he spent more time being thrown backwards, skidding along the ground like a rag doll while he tested the power of his broken down suit. Or the fact there were more holes, partially hidden by more newspaper clippings of himself. It was a sort of an inner macabre satisfaction of blowing them away. The fatigue was trying to set in and he was dutifully ignoring it. On his wrist, the silver bracelet flashed once, a reminder and that too was ignored.

His eyes down, he grinned again. “If I was dying, it’s going to take a lot more than licorice to comfort me and I don’t know if you can fill that role. I know how you kiss.” JJ found the screwdriver and nearly stabbed it into the side of his arm, undoing a minute screw to release a thin red wire and motherboard and snorted at the remodeling comment. “Yeah, I figure the place needs more natural light, what do you think so far?”

JJ set the screwdriver down and popped out what he needed before dragging the stool toward him with a curve of his foot. He didn’t quite sit but leaned against it before finally looking up fully. “Don’t,” he started with a shake of his head. “Don’t encourage her. It’s bad enough you baby her. I gotta deal with her after you leave.” DeeDee however seemed pleased at the promise and whirled back to her cleaning duties, nearly knocking over a small box of parts as she swept the rag across the table. “Will you stop,” he said, exasperation working it’s way into his low tone. “You need to stop. Go clean… over there.” JJ gave a wave of his hand to the other tables with a multitude of what could only be described as stuff piled atop it, most of it his. His robot paused, looked to where he pointed before scooting away happily.

Finally. JJ eyed the candy and the food that followed, feeling like it was some terrible trap to get him to eat healthy no matter how big the promise of deep fried chicken was. His mouth tightened as he realized his stomach had started to growl loudly in protest of being starved. With his free hand, he extended the dirty limb toward the beer instead, a pronounced and angry welt of a cut marring his thumb where he sliced it the other day.

“Sure,” he replied in a tone that clearly stated he was lying. “Let me just finish this first and I’ll meet you out there.” Unearthing a bottle opener from his mess; it said a lot to how he was feeling lately, and popped the cap off with a snap. He offered it toward his friend. “So what have you been up to lately?” It wasn’t too odd to have JJ ask about someone else, especially his good pal, but it was best to keep the attention off him as he sagged a little against the work stool.

JJ was almost always moving, always in motion, always doing something. It was dizzying to keep your eye on him unless you had taken a motion-sickness tablet beforehand. Cash had no idea where or how he got the energy. The spy jogged, he played tennis, and he kept himself fit for the physical demands his chosen profession required, but he even had trouble keeping up with his best friend. Sometimes, Cash felt like the vapor trail chasing after a jet in a vain attempt to keep pace and resist being left behind, but JJ would tow him along no matter what.

"To be quite fair, I don't remember much of it, so it's completely conceivable that I wasn't on my A-game at the time." Cash could not help but argue with his best friend. There was no smack of discomfort and not even the slightest hint of sheepishness at such a recollection. All Cash could really remember was the taste of cherry lip balm and then the horrendous hangover that accompanied what had undoubtedly been the best and most confusing twenty-first birthday ever.

Snickering, Cash's copper eyes darted around the room. He wasn't one for interior design, even if he was just BSing with his best friend. "Natural light? Uh-huh... well..." What was JJ trying to do? Turn the walls into Swiss cheese? Well... it was his tower. "I think you're moving in the right direction, but might I suggest aiming for the exterior walls? You know, so you don't knock out a support. And for the feng shui." There was nothing good about any amount of drywall or beams collapsing on his best friend. Yeah, the guy was Iron Man, but he wasn't in one of his suits all the time. If anything ever happened to JJ... well, Cash just wouldn't think of that.

Cash pulled a face, his brow furrowing and his lips twisting in a look that urged, 'Oh, come on man.' What harm was there in DeeDee starting her own little collection? She put up with JJ and... whatever his obsession(s) of the moment happened to be. It was too easy to forget that the robot was a piece of machinery; Cash easily tacked on emotions and sentiment. "I've been told it's what grandparents do. Don't cramp my style, man." One of the security personnel from back when he was with SHIELD, a man named Fred, often spoke of how he adored throwing sugar, new toys, and disruptive electronics at his grandchildren and then just sitting back and enjoying the aftermath as his children struggled to catch up. The memory of Fred's mirthful smile coaxed its own little grin onto Cash's lips. He wasn't that spiteful -- not even with JJ.

How was it that JJ could frown loudly? The suspicion was apparent in his face, cushioned with a healthy amount of apprehension. "I promise I asked them to put the barest amount of vegetation in there. It's a salad on the street but a cholesterol spike between the sheets -- promise." Cash wasn't JJ's mother; no. He might eat salads and drink wheatgrass, but he wasn't going to nag at his friend to eat things that were good for him when he was an adult who could make his own damn decisions. Besides, he was here to unwind with his friend, not pontificate on the virtues of a high protein and vegetable diet.

"One day I'll hold you to it." Cash swore. "And you can bobble back and forth between the net while I slam the ball over it like Thor wielding Mjolnir. And then everyone will say, 'Wow, that Cash Fury doesn't suck at all the things when JJ Stark is around. Good for him." Cash spoke of himself with no self-pity, only good-natured banter with his friend. JJ was the playboy, the boy genius, the billionaire. Cash... was not. That never bothered him. Why would he want to be the same as JJ, and why would JJ want to be the same as Cash? That sounded boring as hell.

Cash fished his own seat, a matching stool, from beneath a pile of soiled rags, and dragged it to join JJ. "Spying," Cash answered with a short laugh, accepting the bottle opener and prying off his cap. He placed the tool on a surface both of them could reach and grabbed his own salad (topped with a single serving of grilled chicken breast) as he continued speaking. "Just work, man. My dropbox has been unusually busy, but the waitress at the coffee shop across the street is funny, so it's a win-win." Cash popped the top of his salad and leaned back to the snag a fork from the bag.

"And you? Besides um..." Cash looked around the garage, "Remodeling? And being big Mr. CEO." He gave his friend a grin. "And, of course, admonishing sweet DeeDee for being so enthusiastic..."

That earned Cash a quiet laugh, mostly a quick upturn of lips to reveal ivory teeth and a rushed breath that came from the depth of his throat as he fiddled with a secondary wire, nudging it aside with a brush of his thumb. He didn’t really remember much of that night either, just that it was a absolute blast and made a couple of mistakes; trading his Cartier watch for an old shaggy grey pony had been one of them. He didn’t even get a chance to ride it, not that he would have. Cash, however, was not one of those mistakes and he took that with a grain of salt. Who didn’t want to kiss their really hot friend at least once? Nothing had changed between them and he was fairly certain it had only cemented the bond of friendship in some odd, scandalous way.

“I’m fairly certain you were, old man.” Fiddling with the wire again, JJ gave a quick yank and pulled it out without a second thought, already knowing he had to reroute that entire section to pull the max capacity of power without frying the buffer nodes he had installed. Nimble fingers went to the black straps of the entire sleeve and he undid one after the other, knowing he was going to need both hands to work. Once undone, the gangly armor was flipped in hand and set down, repulsor aimed down and with it still attached to him, he took a swig of his beer taking a moment to enjoy the taste. It hit his empty stomach with a nice warm feeling and running the tip of his tongue against his top lip, he eyed the food again.

Glancing up past his brow with a familiar lopsided smirk falling into place, he watched Cash for a moment, the flicker of worry in his eyes and stance so readable. “Please, this building is Stark ingenuity, I could take out every support beam here in this room.” He made a wide gesture of his hand, sweeping his arm around. “And it still could withstand a nine point five on the Richter.” Taking another long drink, he ran his thumb against the label before reaching down underneath his shirt. Lifting it slightly, JJ unhooked the cable from his arc reactor and set that beside the armor. The glow of the blue node was faint under the dark clothing he wore, but ever present as a reminder. Without the tug of power being redirected elsewhere, it seemed to take on a brighter hue to him.

“Style?” JJ faked the most incredulous tone he could muster. “Is that what you call it.” And raised his eyebrows as he inhaled nosily between his teeth. Finally his rump found a seat, catching it on the edge and scooting back to keep is balance. He didn’t know how long he had been standing, but the pins and needles in his feet told him exactly how long. “Egh, I’m not really that hungry. Had myself a power breakfast of coffee and more coffee.” True to his word, several old stained coffee cups lay hidden around the table like the most unfun game of hide and seek.

Setting the beer down, the man reached across and dragged the food container toward him, parting his mess like a machinery sea and brushed aside the candy lovingly and popped the lid open. The smell of chicken hit his nose and he was already reaching for one and shoving it into his mouth. Letting it hang there, he wiped his fingers on the thigh of his jeans and grabbed for what looked like a soldering tool and the board he had previously pried out. There was a light spark as he set it to the board and munching quickly, it disappeared between his lips. Even though he looked as though he had forgotten his good friend was sitting across from him chatting, he was paying every speck of attention toward Cash. It was good to have someone understand that and Cassius had plenty of time to figure that out.

“What makes you think they’re going to even pay attention to you when I’m around?” Wrinkling his nose at the brief billow of acrid smoke, he set the instantly cooled soldering tool down and made two quick puffs of air at the board, barely waiting for it to cool down. “They’re going to be standing over my overtaxed dead body and calling for an ambulance because the super smart nerd tried to do something athletic.” He added in a falsetto voice, muddling in a poorly done New Jersey accent, “Oh that poor Stark kid, he was so handsome.” JJ reached for another piece of chicken, this time tearing it into a smaller semi manageable size before popping it into his mouth.

“Oh, yeah? The busty redhead? What’s her name, Jennifer something.” He nodded knowingly. “Sounds… fun.” Spy work was not his forte and knew how important secrets were and how much his friend could divulge. Didn’t mean he didn’t occasionally pry.

He snorted. “I haven’t been to the office in the past week.”

“Seven weeks, sir,” Jarvis corrected.

“No one asked you.” Flicking his eyes upward toward the ceiling, he brought them back down to Cash. With him sitting, he didn’t have to be assaulted by too many clashing colors. “Mom’s been ragging on me about stuff but I just bought myself a couple of days of time off. A week if I get myself captured as a hostage. Other than that, nothing and I am bored as hell.” He said the three magical scary words that would make anyone who knew JJ Stark, flinch. “But,” there was a saving grace. “I need to get this ugly mofo finished today.” He slapped his hand against the barebones armor sleeve. “I wont rest until I can take down an entire wall with a flick of my wrist.”

Cash was able to mostly restrain an involuntary wince that came across as a slight almost-blink as his friend tugged the stray wire loose. Whenever some random wire was dangling off of JJ or some other vaguely technical thing was on his body, Cash always found himself fearing that if it were caught or pulled, JJ's arc reactor (and essentially his heart) would pop out with it. Not only would it elicit blind panic from the sometimes invisible man, but it also had connotations attached that made him want to shudder,

"You don't even know." He rebutted, electing not to wag his finger sassily. True, Cash never had a girlfriend. Or a romantic attachment lasting more than maybe three dates, but... meh. Cash liked to think he'd be a good kisser. Sure, he'd let his best friend be the judge, but only when they were both sober and they weren't in possession of an ungodly amount of baguettes.

Beer on an empty stomach didn't settle too well, so Cash speared a piece of chicken and a spinach leaf and began to eat as JJ finished fiddling with his armor. Chew, watch, swallow, watch, chew. He gulped loudly as JJ addressed his remodeling. "Yeah, but you're a Stark. You're like the god of creation and destruction so -- you know. I believe you can do the impossible, and that includeds canceling out Stark ingenuity with JJ-ness. Yes, JJ-ness. I can't even think of a second word to adequately describe what it is you do."

"You need not be jealous just because I have some." Cash quipped, and then flashed a dazzling grin at the young Stark as he sarcastically snapped a finger and brought it to circle around his head. "DeeDee is difficult for you because she appreciates such sophistication and my certain je ne ce quois. Meanwhile, you're over here withholding bags and blowing holes in the wall. Point, me."

A skeptical eyebrow sassily arched at JJ's assertion that he didn't feel like eating, "I hear too much coffee gives you the runs. If that's what keeps you so svelte, I hear that's classified as an eating disorder." Cash shoved another forkful of arugula, spinach, and chicken into his mouth before saying, words slightly garbled, "But whatever, Mr. Stark." Nonetheless, Fury watched as JJ began wolfing down the fried poultry, leaving his friend with a satisfied grin. Ya did good, Cash. His inner monologue sometimes sounded frighteningly like his father Ya did good."

Laughing at the scenario (though in real life, Cash would be worse than distraught if he brought his friend to a tennis match only for him to keel over), the young man gave a shrug. "That's what the bright colors are for. They'll think I'm a first responder or a stranded motorist -- Until I'm blubbering over your corpse and shaking my fist at the heavens." Planting his fork in the salad tray, Cash raised a fist above his head. "Whyyyyyy? Why must the good die young and leave me out of their will? Whyyyyyyyyy?!" The howl of false sorrow was accompanied by upturned lips and sparkling eyes. "But, you know, I might get some sympathy cuddles, so it evens out."

Rolling his eyes heavenward as JJ commented on the waitress' bust size, Cash released a sigh. "Yes, the very nice waitress Jennifer who's going to NYU for her master's in Russian literature. Yes, her." There were so much more to women than the size of their breasts and their looks. "She told me that there is actually a curse in Russian that means pee-hole dandruff. I'm keeping that in my back pocket for a special occasion. Expect to be surprised."

"One more and you'll make it an even eight. Nice symmetrical number." Even without Tony Stark around, the infamous Pepper Potts was still running the show. Cash found himself wondering if it served as a good distraction for JJ's mom. Sure, she was dating good ol' Happy now, but regardless -- it must be one type of unfathomable hell to lose the other parent of your children before they were even grown. A wave of emotion suddenly clenched Cash's stomach as he recollected the day that Tony died and the mad rush to get to JJ's side... Pepper's puffy eyes, wiping Edward's snotty nose with his sleeve, and JJ... No, those were memories best served to be dwelt on at another time.

Cash was about to ask why telling his mom the truth was a bit too much for JJ, but then he provided the reason for his subterfuge. "This is completely legitimate, though -- R&D." Cash washed down his latest mouthful of salad with a swig of beer, letting the foam linger in his mouth for a second before swallowing that too. "I don't know what would be boring about this -- but after we eat, want me to be your grease monkey? Help you not take out a support beam? I could hand you stuff and make horrible puns. That should switch you from bored to mildly annoyed pretty quickly."

JJ eyed his friend across the table with a slight narrow of his gaze and swallowed his food before resting fingertips to his chest, edging around the glow of his arc reactor. He caught his friend’s almost reaction to ripping the wiring off him and his tech and without thinking, tapped gently to show that yes, it was still there and he was fine. He gave a proper insulted look. “I’m touched by your lack of faith in me.” He flipped the lid of his food closed and reached for the candy, having more than adequate nutrition in him. Three bites totally counted as adequate and he gripped the edge of the rope candy’s wrapper between his teeth and pulled the other side gripped between his fingers, loosing the wrapping in one go. Sweet, sweet bliss. With the length of red candy dangling from his mouth, he went from super serious inventor to instantly puppy happy inventor.

“Inspire? Charm? Arouse?” He replied around the candy as he chewed before grinding the heel of his hand into his left eye socket, determined to rub away the blur that kept trying to creep into his vision. “She’s difficult because of your you-ness. Every time you leave, she mopes for hours on end and makes my day all that more laborious. You
need take her for the weekend and give me a break. It’ll be like shared custody, you can be the fun parent.”

Reaching for the soldering took again, JJ bent his head down nearly to the table as he spent several minutes working in silence. “Starks are naturally little and wiry, why do you think we make such intricate and precise tech. Delicate fingers.” He gave a wiggle of his free hand, calloused and scarred before dropping it down to hold the edge of his armor.

The smile returned at Cash’s theatric response to his hypothesized death and took an extra large bite of his candy, setting it down to keep it from swinging in the way. He missed the spot of oil he set it directly on. “You know I’ll leave you the Jag in my will, babe. You can even have the ditzy robotic maid.” DeeDee raised her head from the box she was rummaging around in, the task of dusting forgotten in that instant. She clicked a few gears but remained where she was, riffling through things and pulled out a large coil.

He had to admit, he was really guessing her name. He knew it started with a J and he thought he had seen her nametag a couple of times, though he wasn’t really looking at the tiny piece of plastic pinned to her uniform. “Right, right,” he said distractedly and added with a joking flair, “Heart of gold, beautiful soul, filthy tongue. My three favorite traits.” He flicked his gaze up briefly at the odd curse and then was focused again his armor.

The silence between them was different, even with the usual banter and his thoughts were quickly drifting. It had been a long time since he’d been at the forefront of Stark Industries, longer than he usually was but his mom had a handle on things, she always did. She had a knack for taking care of the Stark men. “Stop looking at me like that.” JJ said quietly, not looking up. “You’re giving me the mom stink eye and I get enough of that at home.” When I am home, he thought.

“Yeah, not according to mama bear.” Blowing on the tip of his soldering tool, he watched the glowing end brighten briefly before setting it down and reached for his beer. “I only have room for one unhelpful, annoying sidekick. DeeDee,” he called and his bot reacted, looking up from the coil she had somehow wrapped around one of her arms. “You’re fired. Cash is taking over your spot.” If a robot could look utterly wounded and betrayed, DeeDee was the perfect image. She tilted her head toward Cash and the animated eyes widened and blinked. “Now, who’s the fun parent?”

“Sir,” Jarvis was polite in his interruption, his tone however urgent. “There has been a decrease in power in sector twenty-eight. Security has been cut in air ducts five through seven. Backup power has already been reinstated and an unregistered body has been detected.”

JJ set his beer down slowly, set his hands on the edge of the table and sighed, clearly annoyed at what may or may not be a threat. He drummed his fingers on flat space before scooting his stool back nosily. “Jarvis, who’s the dumbass who thought they could break into my tower.”

“Bringing up the feed now.”

To the right of them on the far wall, opposite of the one JJ was currently using as target practice, several large screens flickered on, previously showing a rotating image of the schematics of the Tower. Live feed of the security system ran in the bottom right screen highlighting an airduct with a figure in it. The other three showed past feeds of someone making their way onto Avenger property, breaking and entering and moving through various sections.

Joshua leaned forward slightly and squinted at the stranger on the large screen and side eyed Cash, “One of yours?” He tilted his head slightly as if to talk to someone behind him. “Run facial scanner, I want to know this idiot’s name and if I should shove him headfirst out of a top window.”

A half-hearted shrug was the only rebuttal JJ received. Cash could go on about his feelings and fears and how he feared the sound of the arc reactor crashing to the ground and his friend's skin turning ashy pale as he collapsed -- but the young Fury didn't want his chops busted. And that would be complete buzzkill to what was beginning to be a nice afternoon. So instead, he sipped his beer and consumed another mouthful of food as JJ began devouring his candy. Should have bought double the number...

"What do you say to that, DeeDee?" Cash asked, turning his head to look at the robot, a grin on his face. "You and me this weekend? I'll make gear-shaped pancakes that you can look at and we'll watch 'How It's Made' reruns on my DVR followed by Shark Week on Discovery Channel." The young man's eyes flickered over to JJ, a smug smirk taking place on his lips. He was fully prepared to follow through with all his offers -- it was JJ's fault for suggesting it in the first place. "And, get this, I have alllllll these plastic bags just shoved into my pantry for that dog I never got. You could have them, darling. It's me and you. We don't need JJ to cramp our style, do we?" Cash's apartment could prove to be lonely at times. No girlfriend, no dog, the only visitors were his parents once in a blue moon and sometimes JJ. DeeDee would brighten the place right up.

Cash chuckled at JJ's explanation for his nimble fingers going back to genetics. "I know that there are Starks on that Game of Thrones show and I want to make a reference to them, but I have zero knowledge of them. Oh wait, wait!" The man speared his salad once more and held up his finger. Clearing his throat slightly, Fury proclaimed, "According to the National Enquirer, your fingers aren't the only things that are dexterous which..." His lips contorted into a look of horror. "...suddenly bring up mental images that I wasn't looking for today."

The Jaguar and DeeDee would be poor consolation for the loss of his best friend indeed. "Accepted -- that is legally binding. Throw in JARVIS and I can sob a little harder at your funeral." Cash teased. Even though he had begun this vein of conversation all in good fun, the topic was suddenly bumming him out. Maybe he could turn this around. "Or," Cash offered, "We could make a pact, You go when I go, I go when you go. That way one of us isn't up in heaven or wherever waiting for the other one. It'll be like a suicide pact, except uh... less middle-schooly and much more responsible."

"She keeps telling me about pirozhki, which is apparently like Russian Hot Pockets, except better." Cash continued, willfully deciding not to address the 'filthy tongue' comment. "She had some peach ones in St. Petersburg near the Winter Palace in this little cafe. She's been trying to tinker with the recipe and make her own, but apparently no dice. And I told her about how my apartment has one stool for seating. It's a great friendship, it really is."

He honestly didn't know that his expression had changed. Shying away apologetically, Cash turned his face back to his salad. "Sorry, man. Must have rubbed off on me." Maybe it actually was a good time to get a little personal, if only to ensure that JJ didn't think that his friend was needlessly judging him. "I just worry about you sometimes. And I know you're a grown-ass man and all, but we both know why I'd be concerned." Cash's fingers idly fiddled with his salad fork and, turning up the corners of his lips in an attempt to break any new tension, softly laughed, "After all, I'm supposed to be the responsible one, right?"

Oh, you jerk. Any fanciful thoughts of DeeDee spending the weekend were banished from Cash's mind as her eyes displayed nothing other than absolute hurt. "Dee, no, wait -- JJ, come on man. It's not like --" Sometimes Cash wondered if they were both slightly sadistic when it came to DeeDee. What was he doing, raising her hopes talking of a sleepover when it was more than likely that JJ wouldn't allow it to happen? And now this. "Listen --"

But Jarvis interrupted, perfectly informing them of an unwanted visitor. "The hell?" Cash asked under his breath, brow furrowing. Who was moronic enough to try to break into the Avenger's Tower? The Avenger's Tower? Either it was a rookie burglar who wasn't too bright, or something far more serious --

It was a good thing that Cash was packing heat.

Cash foisted his salad and beer next to the bottle opener, his appetite forgotten. Arms crossed over his chest, Fury's golden eyes focused on the feed, watching as the intruder's location was highlighted. Seriously, who is this massive idiot?

"One of mine?" Cash echoed, confusion clearly contorting his features. "I work alone now -- and what use would I have for it? I came in through the front door." Not at all sheepish about the location of his piece, Cash reached into his pants and withdrew his Seecamp .25ACP. "I've got your back. I wish I had my actual equipment... I don't want to have to resort to stripping if this idiot thinks they have an edge on JJ Stark."

He didn’t dignify Cash’s cooing over his robot and promises of whisking her away by looking up. “Take her,” he said challengingly, “Promise her the world, but when she deconstructs every clock in your house and waters your plastic plants to the point of flooding your living room, don’t come crying back to me.” He spoke from experience, not those exact experiences but DeeDee was quite capable of doing the impossible when he wasn’t keeping an eye on the bot. He still wasn’t sure where she had found the grey loveseat and managed to drag it into the Avengers Tower without him or Jarvis knowing. She had brought it for him he surmised, a place to rest in the garage while he was working. JJ had frowned at the entire thing and scolded his bot until she stood in the corner, looking wholly dejected. Five months later it was still sitting in his garage and one of his favorite places to crash, other than the floor. The floor was generally hard and cold and unforgiving. Much like a lot of his life. Wow, self, wow.

DeeDee slowly looked back and forth slowly between the two men, the uncertainty clear in her movements as if she wasn’t sure she could believe either. But JJ said yes and yes meant yes and no usually meant yes too, or else she wouldn’t have been such a great cleaner. The robot raised the coil wrapped arm and waved it at Cassius and the animated eyes tilted up.

Joshua scratched at the edge of his arc node through his shirt. Game of Thrones, sounded familiar. “You know I don’t have time to watch tv.” He tried not to smile in response, but no such luck. “Is that the same one with the killer fridge and aliens took my husbands and gave me back a sentient quilt? You know those always have an edge of truth to them, I believe the killer fridge.” Dropping an elbow on the edge of the table JJ rested his chin in his open palm and batted his lashes. “Always an edge of truth, darling.”

Dropping his hand, he rubbed a finger around the metal node again, starting to be annoyed with it. “I want the full waterworks. Jarvis, you heard the man.”

“I’ll make a note.” The bodiless voice almost sounded indignant in the reply.

JJ barked out a laugh, “He is getting snarkier with age. You’re slipping there, Jar, I can actually tell when you’re grumpy.” The silence that followed was all the answer he needed. “Cash, what makes you think I’m not going to be working further downstairs at the end. I don’t have any notions otherwise.” Even though his tone was light and teasing, even that was a little too dark for his own liking. Nothing like talking about your own mortality fate to lighten up a conversation.

“Friendship?” He looked up, setting everything down to emphasize the importance of it. “Cash, man… did she offer to make you some?” He paused. “Did she at least imply she wanted to make you some at your place? Man.” JJ glanced away to try to hide his eye roll with little success. “And you’re talking to me about interior decorating. I’m going to buy you another damn chair and you are going to let her come over and bake you some pirozhki. Do not make me make the obvious pie joke here because I will and then we will both be slightly uncomfortable.”

Cash was quick to turn it around and JJ looked back down at the mess before him. It wasn’t a mess to him, though, he had disassembled a good portion of the arm gauntlet to get at the microscopic bits that he really should have had DeeDee doing. As annoying as she could be, she had hands as steady as a rock and the dexterity he wished he had. It was so easy to focus on other things than what was really being talked about. “Thanks, mom,” he replied and he wasn’t sure if he meant it or not. “Wouldn’t want to come down to find my bloated carcass in the dar- Okay, you know what, this day is getting way too macabre and that’s not good for the psyche.”

He shouldn’t have derived that much pleasure from tormenting his robot, but he did and there was no going back. Luckily for everyone, Jarvis cued in and the man was focusing his attention on the body wriggling through the vents. Glancing down at the torn apart tech on the table, he tilted his head upward to look at Jarvis and knew the AI system was already working on getting a suit ready. The inner workings of the tower hid away a lot to make it seem like a normal building and right now his suit was being preassembled beneath their feet.
JJ made sure he didn’t look too keen in the stranger crawling around, though, if he one knew Stark, they’d know he took it as a personal insult someone would come into home. Already standing, he only raised a brow silently as Cash produced a weapon from somewhere and was kicking off his shoes and digging things out of his jean’s pockets. No time to change. “You forget where you’re at? If you want something a little more flashier, just say the word.”

Moving away from the table toward the middle of the room, he stood within a discretely marked section of flooring before it trembled and opened up. Moving with it, he stepped off the solid ground and into dark open air, sliding a foot into an awaiting silver boot. The whirl of gears and screws tightening was instant and his calf was suddenly engulfed just as he brought his other foot down. A mobius of circular metal arms unfolded and surrounded him as he raised his hands and straightened his head. Pieces of his suit rose up like offerings to press against his legs and arms.

“Jarvis, lock down that floor, I don’t want any access in or out, keep the warning lights off, we don’t want to spook our intruder.”

“Should I alert the others, sir?”

“Don’t bother, but if they stumble into range, give them a heads up.” He held his breath as the torso section clamped around him and tightened briefly before adjusting to the extra bulk of his clothing. The little window to his suit lit up like a beacon. JJ turned his head a fraction to catch Cash in his vision and he grinned. The last piece of his suit rose up, “What would I ever do without you?” and the helmet encased his head, locking into place. The suit was lowered back down to solid ground and gave a fraction of a rock before stilling.

Inside, JJ was enclosed in darkness and his breath was loud in his ears until a second later the HUD flickered to life and brought the world back into focus. As flashy as his father’s suits had been in gold and red, JJ’s were more subtle in their silver and dark blue. It was more streamline and more covert, easier to blend. The face shield glowed briefly and then the suit was moving fluidly, stepping forward and the face mask slid up, exposing the man’s grinning face.

“Shall we?”

He pointed a gloved finger at DeeDee, “Not you. You stay here, I need you to guard my suits.” He turned his head as his voice softened. “We can’t let any gross idiot thief take our stuff now, can we?” The robot gave an enthusiastic bob of its head. “Good girl. Jarvis will lock the doors when we leave and he will protect you.”

Turning back to Cash, he crossed the room heading for the elevator. “How do you want to do this?” He knew he didn’t have a problem with taking charge of a mission without so much as letting others had their say. “You’re my guest, it’d be impolite.”

Given that Cash's apartment was, thus far, very spartan in the way of interior decor and furnishing, he didn't think that DeeDee could do as much damage as JJ was suggesting. What was she going to do with a stool, a TV, a keyboard, and a bed? Not much. But she might just surprise him. "Sounds good to me." Cash turned to the robot, flashing her the widest grin ever. "Next weekend, you and me DeeDee. We'll order in Chinese and WD-40 and watch movies and maybe even take a day trip to DC to the Museum of Technology." With a smirk, the freelance spy turned to his friend and cocked an eyebrow that blatantly said, "Your move."

"But really." Cash insisted, seeing the hesitant hopefulness in DeeDee's displays. "Let me take her for a weekend. God knows I need the company, and I swear that I won't get her too hopped up on.. stimuli?"[/b] Cash meant every single syllable. He wanted DeeDee to have fun and spending a weekend with your best friend's robot helper sounded like a great time. Kind of like the Short Circuit movies, but with less government intervention.

"They're also books. You can get the books on tape... CD... er... MP3? Since you don't have enough to occupy your time anyway." The young man vaguely waved at the holes in the wall. He knew that the TV series was kind of like way darker Lord of the Rings, so the question about the fridge came out of left field. "I don't know some things, but I am completely certain that's not the show." Cash stated confidently. "If anything, it's really intense musical chairs."

If DeeDee was the youthful robot that Cash liked to dote on, Jarvis was the stuffy older intelligence that it was enjoyable to poke fun at. He did nothing to conceal the smile that was coaxed to his face at Jarvis' tone, which plainly expressed that he did not find such a fate amusing. He almost followed JJ's statement up with a promise to take good care of him when his best friend's statement about where he'd be spending the afterlife stopped him in his tracks.

"Welp, I'll just have to haul you out of there myself or downgrade my ticket." He stated, no lilt of teasing or humor in his voice. Eternity without JJ Stark? Cash would rather literally go to Hell. "So, if you do find yourself there, save me a seat. Keep it warm."

Cash couldn't help but give a helpless shrug to his best friend on the subject of Jennifer. "I don't know, man... Whenever I even think about talking to a member of the opposite sex, I immediately jump to 'Well, what if we start dating? What if we get engaged? What if we get married? How am I gonna keep the whole spy thing secret? How am I going to share it? How is anyone not going to bail?' And then by the time I'm so intimidated over the state of my own life that I just elect to go home instead." Overthinking was a habit that he had been forced to develop ever since he decided to drink something glittery in his dad's briefcase and had turned invisible by default ever since. Consequences were thought of more often than actions were taken in Cash's book. "JJ, I am a grown-ass man and I can buy myself another stool. But thank you. Don't worry about me and Jennifer. I'm happy being friends and I would hate to make things... awkward."

"...Touche." His friend was right, per usual. With the sudden surge of adrenaline, Cash did forget that he was at the Avengers Tower with his best friend, owner of one of most innovative brains on earth, not on some mission unprepared or out with the civilians in public. "Jarvis, buddy, do you have any --"

"To your left, sir." A panel in the wall slid open, providing one of Cash's symbiotic polymer jumpsuits.

"Thanks, Jarvis, you're the best." Cash switched the safety onto his Seecamp and unabashedly stripped out of his workout clothes and hoodie. Included were a pair of slip-resistant booties, also made of the polymer. Donning them all quickly, Cash zipped the suit up and turned back to JJ, taking his firearm back in hand. JJ's transformation was, of course, far more impressive than Cash could ever hope to be. Sporting something that was slightly better than spandex was never awesome when going toe-to-toe with a suit of technological wonder armor.

Cash only had one magazine on hand, which left only seven rounds for firing. Each shot had to count, but he wasn't too worried about that. He was no slouch when it came to accurate shooting, no matter who this idiot intruder was. And now, where Cash's face was set in a resolute neutral expression, JJ was cocksure and grinning. Which, when you think about it, was almost the perfect summary of their friendship. "Do let's."

"Stay safe, Dee. We'll see you in a bit." Cash promised as they slipped into the elevator. "I'll take point." Luckily, this suit had a pocket with mirroring technology to mask whatever was held inside, so Cash slipped his Seecamp inside (safety one). "I can scout out this idiot, possibly take him down without having you blow more holes into the place. Unless you want to, which I'm totally fine with. Your Tower." Cash gave a small two-fingered salute to JJ before his face and hands dissolved into thin air, followed quickly by his suit once the polymer caught up.

"Let's do this."

To be continued in I need your help

The towering robot slowly rose to its full height to listen more intently on the consideration between the two men, turning away quickly when JJ glanced in her direction. She proceeded to knock over a box, the metal coil snagging a length of wiring attached to a board and she pulled the whole thing free as she tried to free herself. A whirl of gears and clicks in what could only be described as sheer panic echoed around her as she raised her arm and the dangling board and gave a few shakes of the limb to disengage it from her.

Joshua watched for a moment and knew sighing was going to get him nowhere and jabbed a dirty finger in her direction. “I will personally drop her off tonight if you keep her forever.” DeeDee made her version of a gasp, a slow whistle of a sound as she whirled slowly to look at the man. “You know I’m only joking, you dummy,” JJ returned. “We don’t want Cash to get evicted from his nice apartment now do we?” The hopefulness was not lost in the shake of her headpiece. “Okay. Cash, you want her, you got her. I’ll drop her off Friday.”

“Books on tape?” he repeated almost incredulously and gave a tilt of his brow before continuing in only painful sarcasm that even felt a little rough to him. “Cash, you do know what year this is? You gotta stop hanging around that Captain America chick.”

“I’m touched, really. You’ll have to fight off all them lady demons though to sit next to me. I’ll be super popular.” And not the good kind, he conceded as reached for his candy, intent to shove all of it in his mouth and stopped when he realized half of it was sitting in an oil spill. The man considered wiping it off his jeans and eating it without a second thought, but then Cash would frown and scold him about toxins and that’s just not polite JJ.

“All right, All right.” JJ held up his hands as Cash poured out future scenarios of what could and couldn’t happen with something that hadn’t happened yet. “I get your doomsday predictions and what ifs but Cash, man, you are never going to get any if you keep being a…” He ran through different names and deemed them all too harsh. “a… yourself. Loosen up once in awhile. You got to live in the moment, seize the day, some other third inspiring thing.”

Good joking and the donning of weapons and armor and clothing aside, JJ moved into the elevator when he could have easily just jetted out a window, bust through a couple of walls and take out the intruder. Granted, it would have left an awful mess in his fellow Avenger’s quarters and then he’d have to live in his suit for a couple of months to make sure he stayed alive and things could get a little ripe in an airtight machine of perfection. In the elevator it moved silently, the only sign of them actually moving was the change of floor numbers.

The doors closed with a hiss and there was a faint click as the room was locked down. DeeDee stared at the door for two fractions of a second before making a beeline for the abandoned plastic bag. There was a small clatter and Jarvis watched amusedly as the bot waved its arm, the bag clinging to the metal coil around an arm along with the dragging board.

“You know,” JJ started, twisting his body slightly to look at his friend better. “If you let me get your measurements, I could probably whip up some armor to go underneath your leotard. It’d be lightweight and nigh indestructible.”

Cash was quick to lay out a plan and Joshua’s gaze drifted. “Uh huh, that sounds boring.” The face mask of his helmet flipped over and sealed with a slight sound of air slipping between the threading. The cold, dead eyes of his suit alit of light giving the armor a brief moment of life. “But,” his voice came out with a metallic echo. “I’ll letcha do the hero thing. You’re better at it, than I am.” The salute was returned a nod of his head, barely registered as the suit and he stepped out just as his friend vanished.