The moment Tony and Johnny stepped through the private lift doors into Stark Tower, they were greeted by the clear voice of JARVIS.
"Welcome home, Sir. Director Nicholas Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. has been attempting to contact you repeatedly. He also attempted to enter the Tower physically."
Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Wow, You were right, They would take the bait"
Tony let out a tired huff. "If Fury's trying this hard, it means he's found something." He shot Johnny a look, "And it probably has to do with our magical adventures"
Johnny whistled low, "You're sure these 'Shield' people know about magic?"
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back against the sleek countertop. "Come on, Johnny, you really think a paranoid global surveillance group wouldn't have tabs on wizards...?"
Johnny hums. "I didn't even know about this Shield until you told me. I might need to call my friend for backup if this escalates."
Tony glanced at him, curiosity sparking. "Friend? Anyone I should know about?"
Johnny smirked, "Distant family relative, technically. He's probably here in New York right now. I'll go grab him; if you need me, let me know. Otherwise, I'll leave the 'talking' to you."
Tony chuckled, "Oh, I'll talk alright." His brown eyes glinted with mischief, "Fury thinks he can scare me into submission. Forget it."
Johnny grinned, "Good. Because if I have to hex a government agency to protect you, I'm charging you double."
"Pfft, please. No one can touch me. And Sheild can't even come after me because if they do, My lawyers will be on their ass"
"Fair enough, Still I double charge you!"
With that, Johnny stepped into the lift and the doors sliding closed with a soft ding.
Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair, then glanced around his tower—his sanctuary. It was late afternoon, the city sprawling beneath him, lights beginning to flicker on like stars.
"JARVIS, is Fury here in the tower?"
"Negative, Sir. I informed him you were out with Mr. Skylar. He was... displeased."
Tony smirked, rolling his shoulders as he settled into his office chair, feet propped up on the table. "Good. Let's not keep the cyclops waiting. Call him. And I meant Video call"
A holographic interface shimmered in the air before him, and after a few rings, the screen flickered to reveal the stern, one-eyed gaze of Director Nicholas Fury, his dark leather coat barely visible in the low-lit background of his office.
"Stark," Fury's voice was a controlled growl, lips tightening as if he tasted something bitter.
Tony grinned, lacing his fingers behind his head, leaning back in full billionaire brat posture. "Fury, buddy, how's the weather? Eye infection acting up again?" Fury, definitely got his gift basket. It felt too good to give Fury a taste of his own medicine.
Fury's single eye narrowed, his jaw working, "Cute. I've been trying to contact you for three days. I don't like being ignored." Aww, he missed him.
Tony smirked, tilting his head. "You know, it's funny. You trying break into my tower, call me non-stop, and I'm the rude one?"
"Don't play games with me, Stark," Fury snapped. "We need to talk."
"Oh, we're talking," Tony replied easily, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. "What's on your mind, Director? My new energy projects? The new suits I'm testing? Or is it something else?"
Fury's eye gleamed, reading between the lines. "We have questions about your recent trips to the UK."
Tony's smirk didn't falter, but his eyes darkened a fraction. "Oh? Did your precious satellites catch me having tea with the Queen, or is this about that incident in Surrey? Or is it about the one with the hammer??"
Fury's silence was telling.
Tony's grin widened. "Right. Thought so."
Fury's lips pressed into a hard line, "We know you've been associating with certain individuals—ones with abilities."
Tony raised an eyebrow, "Oh, so you do know about magic." He leaned forward, all playfulness dropping from his face, his eyes sharp as glass, "Let me give you some free advice, Fury: Don't poke your nose into things you don't understand. You think sending one of your spy into my place with such lame flirts would get me wrap around her finger? Oh please. I have good taste. Kindly, I advise you, Don't bother to poke into my business and if you do, I will make sure I have your whole organisation 50ft buried into ground. And you know I am not joking"
There was a tense silence over the line.
Fury finally spoke, voice low, "We protect this world, Stark."
Tony's smile returned, but it was cold, "And so do I."
"Stark—"
"No," Tony cut him off, voice calm but firm, "Whatever you think you know, whatever you think you're going to do, understand this: My father and my godmother, Peggy Carter, trusted me with their legacy. You don't get to question how I handle it."
Fury's jaw flexed, but he said nothing, simply glaring at Tony through the screen.
Tony leaned back again, "Anything else, Director? Or are we done here?"
For a moment, the air was thick, Fury's eye practically boring through the screen, but then he sighed, leaning back, "We'll be in touch."
The call ended with a soft click, the hologram disappeared.
Tony let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair again before glancing up at the ceiling. "JARVIS, remind me to install a thicker firewall on the tower's systems. Fury's going to try to poke around."
"Of course, Sir."
—————
The evening was quiet in Stark Tower, The lights were dimmed, the glow of an old black-and-white movie flickering across the expansive room while Tony, dressed in sweatpants and a faded Black Sabbath tee, lounged on the couch with a bowl of popcorn on his chest.
JARVIS softly announced. "Sir, Mr. Skylar has returned, accompanied by a guest."
Tony lazily tossed a popcorn into his mouth. "About time," he muttered, sitting up, brushing crumbs off his shirt as the doors slid open.
Johnny walked in first, looking amused, and behind him stepped a man who made Tony blink twice.
The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with a regal, controlled posture and sharp grey eyes that flickered around the room with quiet assessment. His dark black hair was slicked back, his charcoal coat swirling around polished shoes, and his expression was a blank mask of professional neutrality.
Tony let out a low whistle, "Johnny, you didn't tell me you were bringing a model over."
Johnny snorted, "Don't start."
The man's sharp gaze turned to Tony, and for a moment Tony felt like he was being measured down to the molecular level. Then, the man stepped forward and extended a gloved hand.
"Percival Graves." His voice was deep, clear, with a polished American accent tinged with something older, something that carried authority without raising its volume.
Tony stood, slapping the popcorn bowl onto the table, and shook his hand firmly, grinning, "Tony Stark. Billionaire, genius, and most sexy man known on this planet, pleasure to meet you, Mr Graves"
Percival's lips twitched—a brief, rare smirk flashing across his stoic face before it was gone, replaced with polite neutrality.
Johnny chuckled, "Graves, you'll get used to him."
"I doubt that," Graves replied dryly, though his eyes held a glint of amusement as he moved to sit on the sleek armchair opposite Tony, while Johnny flopped onto the other end of the couch.
Tony plopped back down, grabbing a handful of popcorn, offering the bowl toward Graves who eyed it, shook his head once, and raised an eyebrow in the kind of judgment only a wizard who wore suits under robes could deliver. "Johnny told me about S.H.I.E.L.D.," Percival began, his gloved fingers tap on armchair. "But I wasn't aware you, Mr Stark, were entangled in our world's politics."
Tony chewed, swallowed, then grinned, "Yeah, well, it's not exactly by choice. I save one kid, accidentally kill a giant snake, blow up a door with my repulsors in a thousand-year-old castle, and suddenly, everyone wants me at the table. I am sure Johnny told you what Kid, right?"
"Not yet"
"Oh okay, Harry Potter, that's my baby brother"
Percival's eyes sharpened, "The Chamber of Secrets incident." He already knew about Harry Potter, British Wizard community chosen one who survived a killing curse.
Tony lifted his brows, impressed. "You keep up with the magical grapevine."
Johnny piped in, "Graves has contacts everywhere. MACUSA, the Auror Corps, even a few in Gringotts."
Tony leaned forward, "So you know about the Horcrux mess too?"
Graves inclined his head, "I do. Johnny informed me, I was surprised when he asked me about it and if you're tangled with that, you're in deeper than I assumed." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly, "And you're untrained. Non-magical."
"Hey," Tony looks ready to throw popcorn at him. "I have some magic, apparently. It just decided to show up fashionably late like a Stark."
That got a soft exhale of amusement from Graves, who nodded once, "Point taken."
There was a comfortable silence as Tony leaned back, eyes studying Graves, who seemed so perfectly composed it was almost unnatural.
"You know," Tony said, voice teasing, "you've got that dark broody wizard aesthetic down perfectly. Must kill at parties."
Johnny nearly choked on his soda, while Graves shot Tony a flat look, though his lips twitched again before he rolled his eyes, "And you have the reckless billionaire aesthetic perfected."
Tony laughed, "Touche."
The humor faded as Graves leaned forward slightly, voice dropping "You do understand what you're getting into, Stark?"
Tony's smirk softened, and he glanced at the paused movie screen before looking back at Graves with tired, but determined, eyes. "I'm in it. Whatever 'it' is."
Graves studied him, then nodded once, approvingly, before sitting back, his posture relaxing the slightest fraction. "Then I'll help"
Tony grinned, tossing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it. "You know, I like you, Graves. You're like the serious than Johnny"
Johnny sighed, muttering, "Here we go."
Percival smirked again, a rare warmth flickering across his cold features. "Just don't get yourself killed, Stark. You're too loud to be replaced."
"Deal."