On the other side of things, Tony Stark had developed a new daily habit — drinking a thick, green plant juice.
Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan had no idea why. They simply assumed he was trying to get in shape.
Lock knew the truth.
The Arc Reactor in Tony's chest was slowly poisoning him.
The palladium core, while capable of generating the power he needed, was also radioactive. Bit by bit, it was leaching toxins into his bloodstream, corroding his body from the inside out.
The only real solution was to replace palladium with a cleaner, safer element — but even for a genius like Stark, that answer was nowhere in sight.
Lock had given Tony several vials of his recovery serum, but after two days, Tony noticed something troubling.
"This stuff is weird," Tony said, setting down an empty vial. "It scrubs exactly the toxins I built up in the last twenty-four hours — down to the decimal. But the stuff from the day before? Still there. At this rate, unless you can give me three of these a day until I'm eighty, it's not a fix."
Lock shrugged. "Three a day? I've only got a little over a hundred total. They're not renewable — and I haven't figured out the formula yet."
Tony smirked. "That's a shame. Each one could save a life… and here I am being greedy."
Then, after a pause, "Don't tell Pepper or Happy. No need to worry them."
Pepper might be his assistant and Happy his bodyguard, but the three of them trusted each other like family.
One day, Tony would marry Pepper, and together they'd have a daughter named Morgan.
And Happy? If things played out like Lock remembered, he'd eventually find himself tangled up with a certain still-charming Aunt May.
Tony pressed a button on his watch. "Happy, get in here — let's work the mitts."
Lock raised an eyebrow. "Not me?"
"Please. Sparring with you is a death wish. I can't land a punch even in the suit."
A few minutes later, Happy walked in, swapping his blazer for loose gym clothes.
He glanced at Lock with curiosity. He knew Lock was an important guest — the man who'd helped rescue Tony from the Ten Rings in the Middle East — but little else.
That was deliberate. Tony and Pepper were following Lock's request to keep his identity and abilities under wraps. Happy, being a talker, would've accidentally spilled everything over drinks. With Stark's friends constantly under surveillance by both the press and intelligence agencies, discretion was survival.
In the ring, Happy moved well for a man his size. After a few rounds, Tony was bent over, gasping for air. Happy, breathing steady, showed he had more than just a bouncer's reflexes.
"Tony," Happy said, "why don't you take a breather? I'll spar with Lock for a bit."
Tony nearly choked. "No! Do not mess with him. He might put you in the morgue with one finger."
That warning only lit a spark in Happy's pride. Before long, he was facing Lock in the ring.
"You afraid, Mr. Lock?"
Lock smiled. "Not at all. You're perfect. I've been looking for a weaker opponent to practice holding back against. That way, when I slip up and accidentally kill someone… well, it won't be you."
Tony muttered from the sidelines, "Don, be gentle. Happy's my friend — try not to break him too badly."
Happy's ears went red. Was that really how little his boss thought of him? His jaw set. He'd show them both.
Lock didn't even bother changing clothes. He stepped into the ring, adopting a calm Taekwondo stance — slow, flowing, built for redirecting force rather than causing harm. Even with only a basic grasp of the art, his raw strength made each movement devastating.
Happy danced lightly on his feet, trying to keep mobile, then lunged forward with a punch toward Lock's face.
To Lock, the strike was slow as drifting smoke. With a simple "Grasp the Sparrow's Tail" maneuver, he caught Happy's arm, pulled, and sent him flying into the elastic guard ropes.
The cords strained to their limit, rebounded, and hurled Happy across to the opposite ropes — before finally bouncing him into the center of the ring in a heap.
One move. That was all it took.
From the mat, Happy groaned, "I… slipped. Let me rest, then we'll go again."
At that moment, the sharp click of heels echoed into the gym. Pepper entered, followed by a tall, slim woman in a crisp white shirt and black slacks.
"Tony, this is Natalie Rushman from Legal," Pepper said. "She has some acquisition paperwork that needs your signature."
Lock's eyes narrowed. Natasha Romanoff.
Tony's eyes lit up instantly. Compared to his usual flings, the woman's presence was a different league — poised, self-assured, dangerous without trying.
As soon as Natasha stepped in, her gaze found Lock. A flicker of panic crossed her face. She hadn't expected to run into her "husband" here.
In the original flow of events, Fury had sent Natasha to evaluate Tony and decide if he was Avengers material. Now? Fury had an extra agenda — forcing a reunion.
Lock simply smiled, curious how long she'd pretend not to know him.
Tony slipped into Playboy mode immediately. "Legal assistant, huh? I like it. You should stop by more often."
Normally, Natasha wouldn't mind leveraging a little charm. But with Lock in the room — and Fury's warning to keep things professional — she kept her tone clipped.
"Mr. Stark, this is an agreement on subsidiary acquisitions and equity restructuring. It needs your signature."
"No rush. Sit down, have a glass of champagne, we'll—"
"I'm fine standing. And you shouldn't drink on the job."
Her cool refusal only made Tony more determined. Pepper, standing beside him, fumed silently. She wasn't Tony's girlfriend — not yet — but every time he brought another woman around, it hit a nerve.
Natasha's eyes kept flicking toward Lock. The longer she avoided engaging, the more it looked like shyness to Tony.
Spotting Happy sprawled on the mat, she asked, "What happened to him?"
Happy instantly scrambled upright. "Nothing! Just cooling down. You, uh… want me to teach you some self-defense?"
"Alright."
She climbed into the ring, more to escape Tony's attention than anything else, but her gaze stayed sharp on Lock.
"First lesson," Happy began, "keep your eyes on your opponent—"
He reached toward her, but Natasha reacted on instinct. In a blur, she trapped his neck between her legs, swung her body weight down, and slammed him to the canvas in a flawless Brazilian jiu-jitsu takedown.
Pepper's jaw dropped. Tony forgot about the documents entirely.
Happy tapped the mat in surrender, gasping, "Didn't count — I wasn't ready."
Beautiful, poised, deadly. Tony's eyes gleamed. "Pepper, get her on my team."
"No," Pepper said flatly.
Lock decided it was time to intervene. "Tony, your flirting skills are tragic. Watch how it's done."