New York Airport, Next Day
Tony Stark's jet landed, red wine swirling in his glass. "Jarvis, who's waiting?"
"Suspicious individuals at the exit: Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, S.H.I.E.L.D.," Jarvis replied.
Tony snorted. "Thought it was real trouble."
Pepper looked up from her tablet. "Need security?"
"Nah," Tony said, donning sunglasses. "Let's see Fury's new game."
He sauntered out, arm around Pepper, into the bustling terminal. Natasha approached, black dress hugging her curves, a coy smile on her lips.
"Mr. Stark, fancy meeting you here," she purred.
Tony grinned. "Romanoff, S.H.I.E.L.D. pay so bad you're moonlighting as a stewardess?"
"Fury wants a word," she said, eyes cool.
"About?" Tony feigned surprise. "Avengers? Already said no."
Clint emerged, hands in pockets. "This time's different."
"Got backup?" Tony quipped.
Fury stepped from a side door, trench coat billowing. "Stark, we need a private chat."
Tony whispered to Pepper, "Don't worry, Fury's just stubborn."
In the VIP lounge, Fury leaned forward. "Avengers need you as a consultant. No interference, just help when needed."
Tony lounged, legs crossed. "Pass."
"The world's changing," Fury pressed. "Mutants, alien tech, gods. We need prep."
"For what? A super boy band?" Tony scoffed.
Fury's eye twitched. "What about James? His thoughts?"
Tony removed his sunglasses, smirking. "Fury, you got a no from me once. Want another?"
Fury's voice hardened. "He's not you. He might understand duty."
Tony laughed. "He's not interested either."
"You're just a guy in a suit," Fury snapped. "Not even on Romanoff's level."
Tony froze, then stood, eyes sharp. "What'd you say?"
"You're nothing without the armor," Fury repeated.
Tony grinned dangerously. "Fine, let's talk." He turned to Pepper. "Change of plans, babe. Malibu villa."
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