Chapter 22
Nick Fury's desktop was strewn with manila folders. They were the day's reports that he would have to review before he could mercifully go home. Two of the folders were labeled "ROMANOFF" and "HILL".
Fury poured himself a splash of whiskey into his coffee, then plucked the top page from Natasha's folder and skimmed it. He began reading and found that her report was mostly operational. There were reports on the methods of surveillance performed, the subject's movements, and so on. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary … at least until he reached page four. He read the paragraph and sighed.
Agent Hill exhibited signs of developing an emotional attachment to Subject Potter. This could compromise operational effectiveness. Recommendation: reassignment, psychological evaluation, and increased monitoring.
Fury grunted in annoyance. He flipped to the next folder, marked "HILL", and fished out the latest incident report. This report only furthered his annoyance. Maria wasn't one to beat around the bush. She went straight for the jugular.
Agent Romanoff is demonstrating behavior inconsistent with professional detachment. Evidence: continuously contacting the Subject after hours, unauthorized surveillance of the Subject, and a pattern of inappropriate social interaction. Recommendation: replace and censure.
He set the report down, poured more whiskey, and sipped. He stared at the two folders with a scowl. From upstairs, the low rattling of the building's outdated air conditioning kicked on. The sound made Fury's good eye throb.
He took a yellow legal pad from his drawer and drew a vertical line down the center. On one side, he wrote "ROMANOFF." On the other side, he wrote "HILL." Fury then listed their respective transgressions. By line three, he realized the entire exercise was a pissing contest. Both agents had always been very good at gathering intel, but it appeared that they were doing their best to sabotage each other.
He pulled out the Potter file. This file was a composite of official SHIELD investigations, debriefs, and months' worth of non-redacted field notes. The top page was the last incident in Mexicali. Below that were pages and pages of operational notes. They listed Potter's likes and dislikes, his eccentric routines, and, of course, his womanizing tendencies.
Fury felt a headache forming and added another splash of whiskey to his coffee. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
The core problem was that Maria and Natasha's jobs had been too simple. They were to get Potter on the hook, or at the very least, keep him from doing something he shouldn't. If they could get close enough to extract details about his powers or his goals, even better. Fury knew both women saw the assignment as a test to earn Fury's personal respect. The rivalry between the two women had been known for quite a while. It was even in both of their personal records. However, Fury still wasn't sure if this was a simple case of professional jealousy or perhaps something worse. If both of his agents had actually developed personal feelings for Potter, it could turn out very badly for both of them. He should have foreseen that both would end up screwing him, literally and figuratively.
He pulled his phone from the drawer and dialed Coulson's secure line. Coulson answered on the first ring. "Director," Coulson said. His voice was tight, with a hint of anxiety there.
"Are you reading the same trash I am?" Fury gruffly asked.
There was a pause. "I've seen both reports. It's a bit embarrassing, sir."
"It's more than embarrassing," Fury said. "At this rate, we're going to have a catfight in the middle of an op. Can you get me a list of candidates for a shadow assignment? We need somebody to watch them both … quietly."
"I'll have a list on your desk first thing in the morning," Coulson told them.
Fury grunted. "Good. I'll decide what to do with these two lovebirds after I read the shadow file."
He hung up and sipped the bitter coffee. He leafed back through the reports. Natasha's detailed account of Maria's "covert romantic entanglement" was juicy, but not nearly as juicy as Maria's forensic breakdown of Natasha's surveillance. Both agents provided attached media. Natasha's folder included a USB drive. Fury eyed it, then slipped it into his laptop. A folder popped up with time-stamped JPEGs, GPS logs, and interestingly, a video file.
Fury clicked the video. It opened to a view of a sunny hillside, shot from a higher vantage point in the grass. The camera panned, zoomed, and then locked onto a pair of figures on a picnic blanket. Maria and Potter came into view, eating and drinking. Fury watched as the two began to get intimate. He forwarded ahead by thirty seconds at a time. In less than five minutes, Maria had Harry's shirt off and was climbing on top of him. The camera was rock-steady. Natasha had held her post through the entire thing, recording every second. Fury felt a mixture of disgust and admiration.
He closed the laptop and pushed it aside. Fury sat back and sipped his whiskey-laced coffee. "Both agents are compromised," he commented to himself. "What to do, what to do," he said in a sing-song voice.
He thought about calling Hill and Romanoff in for a tongue-lashing, but the idea felt childish. If he brought them in, he'd lose whatever trust remained. Worse, they might turn on him and each other in a way that would be even more catastrophic. No, the best thing for now would be to make Maria and Natasha work together, or else give them an enemy worse than each other. The only thing both women hated more than losing was being outmaneuvered.
Fury sipped his coffee and then stood up. He grabbed the Hill and Romanoff folders, stacked them, and clipped them together with a black binder clip. Fury typed in his digital combination and opened his safe. He put the folders inside and shut the door.
Metal and Magic
Maria was about to knock on the door, but she decided against announcing herself. She didn't want to seem like a guest. She wanted to make it clear that she belonged here, and that the new arrangement was not just some temporary punishment. She turned the knob, opened the door, and let herself in. Her duffel bag hung from her shoulder as she made her way into the house.
From the living room came the rustle of a page turning. Natasha sat on the far end of the couch with her legs crossed, reading an operations brief. Her hair was up in a messy top bun. Her feet were bare, and her fingernails and toenails were painted a daring shade of burgundy. The way Natasha looked up was perfectly calculated. She was neither hostile nor warm, but edged with mild disdain. Maria didn't bother with a greeting.
She was still in her work clothes from the day. She wore tailored pants, a white blouse, and a gray blazer that still had the creases from her car's seatbelt. She slipped off her shoes at the threshold and padded into the living room in her socks. She dropped her bag next to the couch.
Natasha closed the brief and set it on the coffee table, next to an untouched cup of tea. Her posture was rigid, but Maria could tell that she was trying really hard to appear casual. She watched Maria cross the rug, her eyes unreadable. Maria stayed standing, her hands clasped behind her back. She let the silence hang in the air.
"So," Natasha finally said in a cool and even voice, "I take it you received Fury's orders, too."
Maria took her time answering. "I did. You seem thrilled."
Natasha's lips barely twitched. "The prospect of a roommate is always exciting," she said with no excitement in her voice. She gestured to the empty seat at the other end of the couch. "Please, make yourself uncomfortable."
Maria snorted in derision and sat at the opposite end of the couch, her spine perfectly straight. She surveyed the living room. There was nothing out of the ordinary. There was only the operations brief, the tea, and a single coaster on the table. "Did they at least give you a warning?" Maria asked.
"I got a ten-minute head start on moving my stuff out of the master bedroom." Natasha's voice was sharp and displeased. As much as she didn't like it, Maria still outranked her.
Maria crossed her legs with a smirk. "That's nice to hear."
Natasha regarded Maria for a moment, then leaned back and drummed her fingers on the edge of the coffee table. "Fury must be out of options. Unless you want to explain to me why he'd put us under the same roof."
"He obviously doesn't trust us," Maria said.
"Maybe he's tired of all the bickering and complaints." Natasha picked up her tea, sipped it, and set it back down. "Did you know he assigned Coulson to monitor our phone calls?"
Maria nodded. "Coulson told me he's auditing the digital logs."
A silence fell over them, and neither woman looked at the other. Natasha ended up speaking first. "Fury wants us to pool all operational intelligence regarding Harry." Her tone made it sound like "operational intelligence" was code for something else. "He wants us to keep separate logs, but also submit a daily joint summary."
"How is this even going to work?" Maria asked. "We're both "dating" Harry. He's going to find out we're both playing him."
"That's probably why Fury put us together. He obviously wants one of us to take a step back," Natasha told her.
"Yes, one of us should definitely take a step back," Maria said, thinking Natasha should be the one to bite the bullet.
"Don't look at me," Natasha snorted.
"Well, I'm not going to either," Maria shot back. There was once again silence in the room.
"Maybe we should force Harry to decide," Natasha said with a smirk. Maria raised an eyebrow.
"Winner takes all?" she asked, and Natasha nodded.
"Fine by me," Maria said with a smirk. She had faith that Harry would choose her. She was, after all, integral to his new and booming business. However, when Natasha stretched, and Maria got a good look at her large, perky assets, she suddenly wasn't as confident as she had been just a few seconds before. She would just have to wait and see.
Metal and Magic
Harry rocketed above Southern LA, his suit's thrusters muted against the smoggy haze. The suit's autopilot kept him in a gentle curve as he scanned the grids below. Tony's suit was a flicker on his HUD. He was way off to the north, doing his daily patrol. The city looked almost peaceful from seven hundred feet up, but Harry knew it was anything but. To his right, the ocean expanded as far as the eye could see. Harry leveled out, killed the autopilot, and dropped to six hundred feet, cutting west above a band of strip malls.
"Any sign of a disturbance?" Tony's voice crackled through the comms.
Harry's helmet filtered out most of the wind as he sliced through the turbulent breeze. He scanned to his left and did the same on his right. "There's a wreck wreaking havoc on the interstate, but not much else."
"Let's stay ahead of the curve. Jarvis, keep us updated on all 911 traffic." The blip of Tony's suit on Harry's HUD streaked across the sky.
Jarvis pinged in, polite as ever. "Mr. Potter, I am detecting some police chatter approximately fourteen blocks to your east. They reference gunfire and possible hostages."
Harry felt his heartbeat quicken as the rush of excitement settled in. "Can you give me a waypoint?"
"Placed," Jarvis replied.
A yellow diamond lit up on Harry's display, and he banked toward it, dropping two hundred feet in the span of a second. A quick glance at the data overlay told him the radio calls had started thirty-two seconds ago. He throttled up and rocketed ahead, and the buildings and houses blurred below him. At ground level, three police cruisers boxed in the mouth of a cul-de-sac. Their red and blue lights strobed brightly, and many more police cars sat staggered down the block. Farther down, a group of neighbors clustered behind a taped-off median.
Harry landed just outside the tape, raising a swirl of dust as he touched down. The crowd shrank back, silent except for the excited squeal of a kid. One of the beat cops tried to posture up, but it was clear he'd never been face-to-face with Harry in his suit. As soon as Harry stepped up to him, the man shrank back.
Harry didn't bother with introductions. "Are you the man in charge?"
The cop was in his early fifties. He had a crewcut, and it appeared that his nose had been broken at least three times. He looked him up and down. "I guess so. I mean, my boss is over there, but ..."
"Give me the quick and easy version," Harry said. He kept the faceplate down to intimidate.
The cop thumbed at the powder-blue house at the end of the drive. "There's a guy inside. He already shot his girlfriend, and he's holding her sister hostage. He's barricaded upstairs and shouting through the window overlooking the street."
"How long has he been in there?"
"Maybe five minutes before the first call. One of the neighbors was doing yard work when the guy drove up. He said he heard a gunshot a few minutes later, and he called 911."
Harry turned to the house, and Jarvis keyed his visor to thermal vision. The blue, yellow, and red blotches inside were easy to spot. There was a heat bloom hugging the floor behind a bed, and a taller, shifting one at the window. "Does he still have the gun?" Harry asked.
"Affirmative," Jarvis replied in Harry's ear. "It appears to be a nine-millimeter."
Harry watched the biggest heat shape shuffle to the window, then fade back. "Tell your people that I'm going up there," Harry told the cop.
The cop grunted and stepped back, motioning for the others to retreat. Harry strode down the sidewalk, each boot clanking on the cracked concrete, and he could feel every phone in the area recording him.
He reached the curb and said, "Jarvis, can you patch me through to the house line?"
"There is no active landline, but I have found a mobile registered to the address. Would you like to call?"
"Text him," Harry said, "Tell him he's surrounded by police and he should surrender. I don't expect him to. I just want him to stay near the window."
Harry heard the ping of a text sent, and a moment later, the heat shape at the window jerked violently. The guy was still watching the front yard. Harry edged to the side of the house, angling for a view of the bedroom. The window was cracked open by about an inch.
Harry lifted off with his thrusters set to their lowest possible level, creating a barely audible whine. He coasted up to the second floor, hovering to the left of the window. Tony chose that moment to show up. He hovered in the distance, positioned right in front of the house. "I'm here, Harry," Tony told him.
"Can you zoom in through the window and patch me the feed?" Harry asked.
"You heard the man, Jarvis," Tony replied. Suddenly, a video feed appeared in the bottom corner of Harry's HUD. He could now see everything going on in the room.
Inside, the man held a gun in both hands as he stared down at the cops. He wore a black tank, sweats, and a pair of dirty white sneakers. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and he looked like a man with nothing to lose. There was another woman in the room, cowering behind the bed. She had a nasty cut on her forehead, and there was a thick line of blood running down one side of her face. The girlfriend was sprawled motionless on the bed. Below her, a large dark patch stained the sheets.
Harry waited and watched the man's patterns. Every time the guy looked out, he led with the gun. Harry took a breath and tapped gently on the glass with one steel finger.
The man spun, gun up. His hands shook, but he didn't shoot. "Who the hell is that?!" he yelled out after not seeing anyone in the window. When the man turned to look at the other woman, Harry tapped again. The man spun around again with a wild look. He stepped closer to the window and tried to look straight down.
Harry cocked his elbow, punched through the window, and wrapped a fist around the front of the guy's tank top. The man yelled as Harry pulled him through the shattered window like a ragdoll. He didn't let him down gently. Instead, Harry flung him forward, and everyone watched as the man tumbled head over heels. The woman inside screamed loudly, but Harry didn't pay it any mind. He also heard the neighbors' reactions. They were yelling and gasping as they filmed the whole thing on their phones.
The man did one last flip before he landed flat on his back in the middle of the front lawn. The gun went spinning across the yard as his back arched in pain. In an instant, a flurry of cops rushed forward to apprehend the culprit. Harry hovered above and watched as they handcuffed the screaming, thrashing man.
"There's a woman in the bedroom," Harry told the cop. "She may need medical treatment."
The cop's face was full of disbelief, but he managed a shaky "Roger that." He looked at Harry with awe as he lazily flew down the street. Down below, the crowd had swelled to fifty or sixty, all of them recording. He ignored them and turned to Tony, who was coming toward him in a slow hover.
"Hostage situation neutralized," Harry said. "There was one casualty, but the hostage is fine."
Tony nodded in relief. "Good job. It was a smart move pulling him through the window like that. It gave him no time to react."
"What can I say? I guess I'm just naturally gifted," Harry said with much bravado.
"Yeah, a naturally gifted jackass," Tony snorted in amusement. "Let's go get some lunch. I'm starving."
Harry eyed a taco truck a block away. It was surrounded by blue-collar workers. "How about something greasy?" Harry asked, pointing at the truck.
"Fine, but you're buying," Tony chuckled.
Before leaving, he looked back at the house. Two paramedics were rushing up the porch, and a cop was still kneeling on the suspect's back. Harry felt the tension bleed out of his neck and back, replaced by the satisfaction of a job well done.
They fired up the thrusters and took off, not bothering to do it quietly. The crowd scattered as the shockwave rolled through them. A minute later, Harry and Tony were standing, fully armored, in line at the taco truck. For them, it was just another day at the office.
Chapter 23
The sun had barely dropped below the horizon, and the mansion was already alive with the scent of grilled meat, expensive Scotch, and the salty air of the Pacific Ocean. Tony stood on the patio, sipping his drink and staring out at the darkening ocean as if it were his own private aquarium.
Harry wandered in from the living room and went straight for the grill. He grabbed one of the shishkebabs and flopped onto a lounge chair, staring up at Tony with a bored expression. "You look like shit," Harry said, which was true. Tony's hair was sticking out in every direction, and his eyes were full of exhaustion. Harry began munching on his food.
Tony took the jab in stride. "I was up all night rewriting Jarvis's code so he'd stop nagging me about it. I was hoping to take a long nap today, but then I got called into the office by Pepper. The investors aren't pleased with Stark Industries' lack of new products on the market." He peered at Harry over the rim of his glass. "You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Did you get laid last night?"
Harry smirked. "No, but Natasha did give me a BJ while waiting in line in the Jack in the Box drive-through."
Tony cackled. "I always knew she was a keeper." He set his glass down and leaned against the railing, his eyes glinting. "When's the last time we did something fun?"
Harry blinked. "We took down a drug lab two days ago."
Tony wagged a finger. "That was work. You and I need a little mindless recreation. I'm talking about the real stuff. You know … booze and tits. When's the last time we actually went out?"
Harry gave it some thought. "You dragged me to a strip club two weeks ago. I spent $3,000 on bottles and got a lap dance from a girl named Destiny. She spent the whole time trying to get me to invest in her goat yoga business … whatever the hell that is."
"Exactly. We're overdue." Tony pushed away from the railing and snapped his fingers. "We're going out. None of that boring, polite billionaire charity bullshit that Pepper forced us to go to last week. We're getting trashed at the best gentlemen's club in the county. The one with the three stages and the sushi bar."
Harry grinned. "You really know how to show a guy a good time."
"Correction, my friend … We're going to have a GREAT time!" Tony clapped his hands and called out, "Jarvis, order us a car. We'll be in no condition to drive tonight."
"Which car would you prefer, sir?" Jarvis asked in his polite voice.
Tony hesitated, then said, "The Limo. I like to make an entrance. It shows we mean business."
After getting ready, they found the limo already waiting for them outside the mansion. They piled in and made their way to the club. The gentlemen's club was tucked away in an older building near downtown. The windows were blacked out, and a bouncer wearing sunglasses stood at the entrance. Harry had no idea why he was wearing shades at night. The neon sign glowed blue and pink.
Inside, the concussive music hit them in pulsing waves. The air was dense with perfume, lotion, and alcohol. A thick crowd of men in cheap suits lined the stage and scattered around low-slung tables. The moment Tony and Harry walked in, the temperature in the room seemed to jump.
Every dancer in the place seemed to notice the new arrivals at exactly the same time. There was a shift in their posture and a sharpening of smiles. Harry could tell that each girl was in it to win it. The best of the bunch made a beeline for them. Tony strode through the club as if he owned it, which, as far as anyone here was concerned, he did. Harry followed, amused to see the way the regulars shrank back when Tony swept through.
A manager in a too-tight suit intercepted them before they reached the back. "Mr. Stark, welcome back. We have your usual table. Would you like your …"
Tony cut him off. "Yes … and tell Tiffany to bring the top-shelf stuff. We don't want that swill you pawn off on the dentists." He tossed a casual arm around the man's shoulders, then let him scurry ahead.
They reached the VIP area. The table was ringed with blue LED lighting and set just off the main stage. No sooner had they sat than a blonde dancer in a tiny black bikini appeared on Harry's lap as if conjured. She wrapped both arms around his neck and squeezed her tits against his face. "Hi, Harry," she said in a sugary sweet voice.
Tony dropped onto his seat and surveyed the menu, already ignoring the three dancers who loitered at his elbow. Booze took priority over everything.
Harry squinted at the girl in his lap. "Do I know you?"
She pouted. "You tipped me a hundred bucks last time, and said I had the best natural rack in the Western hemisphere." She leaned back and thrust her chest at him for emphasis.
Harry greedily examined them. "Still true."
The manager returned with a bottle of champagne and four glasses. "Compliments of the house, Mr. Stark. Also, we have a new dancer on the main stage tonight. Her name is …"
"Say no more," Tony said, popping the bottle. The cork hit the ceiling and bounced into another guy's drink. Tony then began filling each glass halfway.
Harry craned his neck to look at the stage. A blonde was up there, swinging around the pole with a gymnast's grace. She wore high heels and a pale blue g-string that was hidden between her shapely cheeks. She was in her early twenties, with perfect, white teeth and tits that were made to be played with.
Tony nudged Harry. "That must be the new girl. We haven't seen her before."
Harry nodded, watching the blonde bend backward. Her large breasts bumped into her chin. "She's new," the manager confirmed, standing way too close. "She's from Las Vegas. We poached her."
Harry grinned. "You poached her, huh?"
The manager blushed. "Well, she was highly sought after. Would you like an introduction?"
Tony clucked his tongue, already reaching into the trouser pocket that Harry had magically expanded. Harry's pocket was also expanded, and both his and Tony's were stuffed full of cash. "This is what we came for." He pulled out a stack of hundreds and waved the manager off. "We'll introduce ourselves."
The blonde in Harry's lap giggled and nuzzled her face into his neck. She then started slowly grinding against his thighs. Harry, not to be outdone, cupped her ass and squeezed, earning a delighted squeal.
Tony drained his glass and stood, his eyes locked on the blonde as she hit her bigfinale. He pushed his way to the edge of the stage, holding up the folded wad of bills like the degenerate that he was. As the song ended, the blonde strutted toward him. Her hair was messy, and her skin glistened under the lights. As she strutted, her bare breasts bounced around, drawing the eyes of every man in the club. Tony tossed the money up, and the bills flew high into the air. They spun through the air and rained down over her like a ticker tape parade. The other men at the stage stared, slack-jawed with amazement, as the dancer dropped to her knees and collected every bill. She had her eyes on Tony the whole time. Harry knew who she'd be targeting tonight.
Harry watched from the table while his blonde dancer still ground against him, and laughed out loud at Tony's antics. "Show-off," he yelled. Tony smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
The manager brought over a second bottle, bowed, and disappeared. Within minutes, Harry's table had attracted a critical mass of dancers. Two more had joined and sandwiched him on either side. One was a brunette with a perky rack, and the other was a Latina with a tongue stud. Both had clearly decided the best way to compete for Harry's attention was a direct assault. The brunette reached around from behind and pressed her chest to the back of his head, smothering him in cleavage.
"Can you even breathe?" Tony called over, returning with the blonde, who was already twirling a finger through his hair.
"Barely," Harry said, his voice muffled by soft, smooth flesh.
"At least you'll go with a smile," Tony laughed and poured himself another glass.
Harry extricated his head just long enough to address the stripper in his lap. "Is it always like this, or do you girls just go nuts whenever Tony and I show up?"
She giggled, shaking her boobs in his face. "You two are celebrities. We argue in the dressing room about who gets to dance for you."
"Don't worry. There's enough of me to go around," Harry joked, and the girls giggled while continuing to smother his head with multiple sets of breasts.
Tony's blonde laughed and slid onto his lap. "The other girls warned me about you. They said you were trouble," she teasingly purred, playing with Tony's chest.
"You have no idea," Tony said. He handed her a glass, which she downed in a single gulp. Harry caught Tony's eye and grinned.
The music shifted to a slower, dirtier beat. The Latina inched closer to Harry, practically straddling his knee. The blonde decided it was time to step up her game, so she planted a kiss directly on Harry's lips and held it there. It didn't take long for her tongue to slip into his mouth.
Tony banged his glass on the table. "Let's make a night of it. Drinks for everyone." The dancers cheered.
The manager reappeared and discreetly slid the bill for the bottle across the table. Tony didn't even look at it. He just signed the slip and winked. "Don't let anyone say I'm not a gentleman," he said, then grabbed the blonde by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss.
Harry turned to the blonde in his lap. "It's going to be a fun night," he said.
She beamed, mashed her tits into his face, and giggled when Harry sucked on her skin. All around them, the lights strobed, the music pounded, and girls gravitated toward the two big spenders.
Metal and Magic
The morning came, and Natasha shuffled out of the bedroom in a faded tank top and pajama shorts. Her hair was tangled, and her eyes were puffy with sleepiness. Maria was already up and sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balanced on her knees. The TV was on, and the sound was low. It was tuned to one of the local news channels. Natasha grunted a hello, padded to the kitchen, and poured coffee into a mug.
Maria didn't look up. She wore black leggings, a sports bra, and a focused expression. The only sign of life was the way her bare foot jiggled at the end of her leg. Natasha took her coffee, dropped onto the couch, and set her heel on the edge of the coffee table.
The news anchor's voice was lively and professional, but Natasha only half listened. She went through the messages on her phone, pausing once to scratch her thigh. The house was silent except for the drone of the anchor and the clacking of Maria's keyboard. Natasha sipped her coffee, wincing at the bitterness.
"Did you see the latest incident report?" Maria finally asked, eyes still glued to her screen.
Natasha snorted. "Which one? There were four."
Maria sighed. "The traffic citation one. Harry told me he couldn't come to work because he and Stark were going out to buy toys to donate to needy children. Instead, they decided to take out Stark's new supercharged Mustang and blew through two red lights."
"Were they drunk?" Natasha asked.
Maria's lips twitched. "It occurred at nine in the morning, but knowing them, it's definitely a possibility. The dispatcher called it 'exuberant behavior.' The police chief is annoyed that the mayor made him scrub it from the records." She closed the laptop with a slap. "I just knew that Fury would somehow blame me for this mess."
"Us," Natasha corrected her as she continued to look through her messages. "Fury sent me a text stating that he's disappointed I can't keep Harry's reckless behavior in check. Apparently, he believes that I'm Harry's mother or something."
Natasha eyed the TV, where the anchor had shifted to a new story. A headline scrolled under her. "Billionaire Tony Stark Spotted at LA Gentlemen's Club." A grainy photo of Tony stepping out of a limo filled the screen. It was followed by blurry footage of him and Harry striding into a building under neon lights.
Natasha huffed. "Those assholes don't even try to be discreet."
"They never do," Maria sighed, reaching for the remote. She turned up the volume just as the news shifted to security cam footage from the club. Harry and Tony appeared on-screen, trailed by a procession of half-naked dancers. Harry was shirtless with a tie knotted around his forehead like a headband, and he had a girl draped around each arm. Tony stumbled and nearly face planted, but he was luckily saved by the bimbo on his arm. The anchor tried to suppress a smile.
"Early reports say the two men left the club with several dancers at approximately 2:30 AM," the anchor said, her professionalism slipping as she barely held in a giggle.
The screen cut to a video of the sidewalk outside. A black limousine pulled up to the curb. Tony opened the door, and Harry swept one of the strippers off her feet. She squealed, flung her legs in the air, and clung to his neck as he carried her to the car. He set her down, smacked her on the ass, and said, "Get your sexy ass inside." The mic picked it up perfectly.
The stripper laughed and wriggled into the backseat. Another girl trotted to the limo and bent over, giving Harry an expectant look. Harry looked at the camera, shrugged, and smacked her on the bottom, too. Tony and the rest of the girls cheered. The whole crew vanished into the car, and it peeled away from the curb.
Maria aimed the remote at the screen and muted the TV. She didn't move. She just stared straight ahead with her lips pressed together in a thin line.
"Charming," Natasha said.
Maria stood, stretched, and yawned. "This is the man Fury expects us to keep in line."
Natasha shook her head, then smirked. "Maybe Fury should give him a curfew … or a chastity belt at least."
"Neither would work," Maria said. She grabbed her laptop and walked toward her room. Before she disappeared down the hall, she looked back at Natasha. "We may have to work together if we want to keep up with those idiots."
Natasha sipped her coffee and grinned. "I'll do my part. Just try not to get in my way."
Maria snorted. "Does your part include sucking him off in a cheap fast-food drive-through?"
Natasha flipped her off. Maria grinned and disappeared into her room.
On the muted TV, the news anchor amusedly finished her report on the two drunken morons. The camera cut away, and the next story started without fanfare.
Natasha finished her coffee, then closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the cushion. She was already mentally drained, and it was barely 9 A.M. She groaned and stood up. She desperately needed a long, hot bath before starting her day.
Metal and Magic
Harry Potter woke up and immediately wished he hadn't. His mouth tasted terrible, and there was a low, steady pounding behind his eyes. For a minute, he forgot why he was suffering. He then remembered the night before, the club, and the strippers. He looked next to him and saw the two women cuddled up together. They were still asleep. He swung his legs over the side and got out of bed.
He'd had the foresight to down three vials of hangover cure. He drank one down and checked the time. As usual, he was late for his meeting with Maria, and he was sure she wouldn't be pleased. As fast as he could, he jumped into the shower and washed off. He brushed his teeth and ran a brush through his wet hair. Harry then strolled back into the room and put on some clean clothes.
He wandered out into the hallway, squinting against the daylight. The house was oddly quiet, except for the whirring of a vacuum cleaner somewhere far off. He followed the sound, past the kitchen and down a step into the lounge. There, in the middle of the mess they had made last night, stood Pepper Potts.
She had one hand on her hip and the other gripping the handle of a Dyson. She wore a white button-down and a crisp pencil skirt that ended just above her knees. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail.
"Thank god," he said, and his voice came out in a dry croak.
Pepper spun, startled, then gave him an unimpressed once-over. "You look like you fell out of a garbage truck."
"I'm pretty sure I did, at some point last night." He rubbed his face, then looked around at the lounge. There were empty champagne bottles everywhere, and at least two glittery bras hanging from the ceiling fan. "How bad is it?"
Pepper leaned on the vacuum and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's an all-time low, even for you two hooligans. There's a lipstick smear on Tony's Picasso. There's a half-naked woman asleep in the laundry room, and Tony left a note that says, 'Sorry for the damage. Had to show a stripper how to use the plasma torch. Will buy a new one tomorrow.'"
"Which plasma torch?"
"I don't know," she snapped. "There were three of them in the kitchen when I came in. FYI, the fridge is ruined. Someone welded the doors together."
Harry grinned, then instantly regretted it when he saw Pepper's expression. "Sorry for the mess. I'll … well, actually, that's not true. I won't clean any of this up. But I'm sorry you have to."
She sighed. "That's the most honest thing you've ever said to me." She pointed the vacuum at him. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Yeah," he said. "But there are a couple of girls in my room. Can you, you know … handle them?"
Pepper rolled her eyes. "Do you want me to call them a cab, or throw them in the pool?"
"Whatever you think is best." He started for the garage, then stopped. "I left a couple of hangover cures for them next to the bed. That should get them up and running."
"You know … When Tony made me CEO, I thought these days would be over. I'm very sorry to say that I was wrong," Pepper told him. Harry shot her a boyish smile, and Pepper couldn't help but crack a small smile.
"Nah. You'd miss us too much. Thanks a million, Pepper," Harry said and scooped her up in a hug. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around, making her squeal.
"Put me down, you big ape!" she yelped, smacking his shoulder. Harry chuckled and put her back on her feet. Pepper huffed and smoothed out her clothes. He winked at her, which earned him a glare, then headed for the door.
In the garage, he found his car. The windshield had been Sharpied with the words "CALL ME." The words were followed by a phone number and a large heart. He shrugged, got in, and drove to the bottling plant.
The sun was already high in the sky and beating down on the pavement outside the factory. Harry pulled in and parked in a reserved space, then took a minute to gather his wits before heading inside. He found Maria in her office. She wore a black skirt, a light purple blouse, and her hair in a bun. There was a faint sheen of sweat on her temples, but her eyes were cool and calculating.
"Hello, love," Harry said, ducking in and closing the door behind him.
Maria didn't look up from her laptop. "You're late."
Harry shrugged. "At least I made it. That's an achievement all on its own."
She glanced at him, unimpressed. "Did you see the production numbers?"
"No, but I can guess from your tone." He slumped into the guest chair and ran a hand through his hair. "Let me guess. We can't keep up with demand."
Maria nodded. "That's one way to put it. Orders have doubled since last week. We're two shifts behind, and the bottling line is jammed because some idiot dropped a wrench into the conveyor belt mechanism. Also, the health inspector showed up unannounced and wasn't pleased."
"What did Tony do this time?"
"He swapped out the water for alcohol in the water dispenser. How the hell did he sneak five gallons of vodka in here? The inspector was pretty tipsy when writing his report."
Harry laughed, then coughed. "That's pretty good."
"It's not. Those guys just love to shut people down."
He leaned forward. "I'll fix it. All these guys do is look for payouts. I'll pay them off, and they'll forget all about it."
Maria stared at him, skeptical. "You don't even know what day it is."
"It's …" He tapped his chin, thinking hard. "Thursday?"
She snorted, but there was a faint smile. "Nice try."
He eyed her, then stood and walked around behind her chair. Maria pretended to ignore him as he set his hands on her shoulders.
"I'm trying to work," she said, but there wasn't much conviction in it.
He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. "You're tense."
She huffed, "Maybe because I've been up since five trying to clean up your mess."
His hands slid lower, squeezing her waist. Maria's breath hitched, and he felt her shudder. She elbowed him, but he barely felt it.
"Harry," she said in a husky voice. "This is not the time."
He nipped her ear. "It's always a good time."
Maria exhaled, stood, and faced him. "If you're going to make a scene, at least close the blinds."
Harry picked her up and sat her up on the desk. Her skirt hiked up, revealing a strip of dark stocking over her thigh. He grinned, then planted both palms on her legs and slid them apart, exposing the crotch of her panties. Maria huffed. "Fine … but make it quick."
He knelt between her knees and slid her panties down in one fluid move. They were black and tiny, and Harry spun them on his finger with a smirk. She arched an eyebrow at his efficiency.
Harry ran his tongue along the exposed portion of her thigh, then moved it up and over the slit. She was wetter than he'd expected, and he felt her shiver at the first contact. He flicked his tongue over her clit, then sucked it between his lips. Maria gasped, trying to keep quiet, but a little moan slipped out.
He alternated sucking and massaging it, keeping it unpredictable. Maria bit her lip, then reached for his hair and gripped it hard. "You're such a bastard," she whispered.
Harry hummed loudly, and the vibration made her squirm. He slipped two fingers into her wet pussy, curling them upward. Maria's hips bucked, and he heard her high heels clatter to the floor. She came faster than usual. Her pussy let out a small squirt in a shuddering climax that left her nails digging into his scalp. He kept gently sucking her clit until she pushed his head away.
"It's too sensitive," she panted, pulling him up by the shirt. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were glassy. Harry kissed her, and she tasted herself on his tongue. Maria pushed him back and hopped off the desk, steadying herself with a hand on his shoulder.
He wiped his mouth, grinned, and said, "Feel better?"
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "You still have to fix the production numbers."
"I'll handle it," he assured her.
"Good. Now get out. I have work to do," she said, and Harry chuckled. Before he left, she pulled him back in for another kiss. Maria moaned into his mouth and squirmed away when he cupped her ass.
"Later," she said. "Now go," she demanded, pointing at the door. Harry shook his head and chuckled. Maria was in a much better mood when he left.
Chapter 24
Pepper liked to pretend she only watched television to keep up with current events, but Tony had seen her weep at a dog-food commercial and lose her shit at the season finale of a baking competition, so he was onto her. On a Tuesday evening, she commandeered his couch with a bowl of microwaved popcorn between her thighs.
Tony arrived in the living room carrying a couple of bottles of beer. He handed one to her and eyed the bowl of popcorn. He dropped down on the couch with a groan and scooped a huge handful of her buttery treat. "What are we hate-watching tonight?"
Pepper crunched down on a tasty handful and glanced over at him. "Don't be cute. You know why we're here."
Tony closed his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "If you say the words 'Harry' and 'interview' in the same sentence, I'm leaving and never coming back."
She tossed a popcorn kernel at his face. It bounced off his cheek and landed somewhere on the floor. "It's important to watch him. He's your business partner. Besides, you love him."
"That's the Stockholm Syndrome talking," Tony said, but he didn't move. Instead, he grabbed more popcorn and swigged his beer.
The TV flickered to life. The logo for Capital Gains, a business gossip show dressed up as a serious program, filled the screen. The host, a professional brunette with a gorgeous face, grinned through a row of suspiciously white teeth.
"She's new," Tony said, gesturing at the screen with his beer. "They keep hiring these beautiful female sharks. She looks like she would cut a man's scrotum off if he even whistled at her."
"I admire that in a woman," Pepper said. She took a drink of her own beer and set it on the coffee table. "Shush, here he comes."
Harry emerged onto the studio set, wearing a very expensive black suit tailored to fit his form perfectly. His shirt was open at the throat, and his hair was styled in a manner that suggested both carelessness and professionalism. He wore sunglasses indoors. Pepper snorted. "It's eight at night. Is he drunk and trying to hide it?"
"He wishes," Tony said. "He saw one interview with Bono, and now he's convinced he's the coolest guy on Earth. He's still got some catching up to do if he even wants to reach my stratosphere, though." Pepper shushed him again.
On the TV, the interviewer, Mara, gave Harry the once-over, clearly liking what she saw. "Ladies and gentlemen," she purred. "Please welcome the man who claims he can cure your hangover … Harry Potter."
Harry took off his sunglasses with a slow, theatrical flourish, then hooked them on the front of his shirt. "It's a pleasure, Mara. You're even more beautiful in person."
The audience laughed, and everyone knew Harry was being outrageous but also that he meant it. He sat down on the low leather couch beside the host, his posture relaxed and legs splayed. Mara leaned in just a touch too close, presumably for the camera angle, but she didn't retreat when Harry angled his knees toward her in response.
Back on the couch, Pepper snorted. "Jesus. Look at him. He cleans up really well. He looks like a young James Bond." Tony, still chewing popcorn, shrugged. "If he ever gets tired of selling cures for drunkards, he can rent himself out for bachelorette parties." Tony made a fake gagging sound.
On screen, Mara began her attack. "So, Harry. The world wants to know … what possessed you to cure hangovers instead of, say, inventing something to better humanity?" Her voice had the silky smoothness of a practiced seductress.
He pressed his hands together in mock gravitas. "Well, Mara, when you've experienced as many hangovers as I have, you tend to get creative. And as for bettering humanity, the world is already full of rich, smart, and in-love people, but it's criminally short on folks who can enjoy the morning after an all-night rager."
Mara laughed and reached out to pat his knee. Her hand lingered longer than necessary. "That's the best pitch I've ever heard." She composed herself and crossed one spectacular leg over the other, flashing a lot of sexy thigh. "Well, it seems to be working. Harry's Hangover Cure is the fastest-growing beverage company in the world right now …"
Tony coughed and made a face. "That's not the name of the company!" he exclaimed. "It's Harry and Tony's Hangover Cure! She completely left my name out!" Pepper giggled and wiped her eyes, barely able to breathe. "Look at that smug prick," Tony sourly stated. Harry actually looked into the camera and smirked. His green eyes were practically twinkling. "He's not even correcting her."
Mara continued, her eyes locked on Harry's. "And rumor has it you're opening three more bottling plants before summer?" Harry nodded. "That's true, Mara. We're looking at another in California, one in Florida, and one on the Texas coast. My team thinks it's about logistics and shipping, but really, I just want to spend more time at the beach."
Mara grinned and shot him a hungry gaze. "You also recently inked a deal to distribute internationally. Are you planning to take over the world, and if you do, can I come with you?" This got a small laugh from the studio audience.
At home, Tony muttered, "He's going to sleep with her by the third ad break."
Pepper patted him on the knee. "It looks like the king has been dethroned." She shook her head sadly, but it was obvious that she was trying not to laugh at him.
On screen, Harry considered Mara's question, tapping his chin with one finger. "To answer your second question … I'll take you anywhere you want to go. But I also believe we're on the cusp of something big. If I can make one hungover college student feel a little better about their life choices, then it's all worth it."
The host leaned in even closer. "And what about your own life choices, Harry? Can we expect to see you expanding your interests beyond beverages?" She trailed her eyes down his body in a way that the studio audience noticed, erupting in a choir of polite oohs.
"Oh, Mara," Harry said with a smirk. "Since seeing you, my interests have expanded greatly."
Tony scowled at the TV. "He's getting all the attention!"
Pepper found this hilarious and doubled over, spilling popcorn across the cushions.
Metal and Magic
The Capital Gains interview ended with Harry winking at the camera, Mara clutching his forearm, and the studio audience clapping like Harry was the second coming of Elvis Presley. Natasha killed the volume and let the TV fade to black. She leaned back in her chair and exhaled through her nose.
Maria sat on the arm of the couch in gray yoga pants and a white t-shirt, and she tossed the remote down and let it bounce off the coffee table. "What a jackass," she said. "Did you see the way he kept calling her Mara, like he was going to take her out behind the set and fuck her on a pile of cue cards?"
Natasha folded her arms. "It was unsubtle, even for him. She couldn't even finish a question without staring at his mouth." She let out an annoyed sigh.
Maria's foot began to tap furiously. "That man's getting out of control. I mean, I know he likes women, but sheesh!"
Natasha stared at the ceiling for a second before looking down at her own cuticles. "Did you see how she touched him? It was four times in two minutes."
Maria snorted. "Four times in the first thirty seconds is more like it."
Natasha felt the tension migrate from her jaw down her neck. "What's the point of being the two most dangerous women in North America if we can't control our own boy-toy?"
"We don't control him … remember?"
"Yeah, I know. Harry's not an asset." Natasha dropped her arms and crossed the living room to the kitchen. She opened the freezer and yanked out the pint of overpriced gelato she'd been saving for a rough night. She pried off the lid, grabbed a spoon, and ate standing up.
Maria came around the counter, her arms folded. "You know he does it on purpose. The suits, the smirk, and the way he sits with his legs spread out … he loves the attention. He's turning into another Tony Stark."
Natasha stabbed the gelato. "I don't think he's that far gone. He's just horny and has no shame. We can break him."
Maria smiled at the challenge. "You mean, we could if we worked together."
Natasha looked her up and down. Maria's smile was so tight it looked a bit threatening. "You mean if you stopped fighting me for every inch of turf."
Maria rolled her eyes. "You mean if you stopped trying to win every argument by sheer willpower." There was a pause as both women thought about it.
"We have to do something," Natasha said.
Maria nodded. "We do."
Natasha leaned on the counter. "We make him choose … like right now. The loser backs off."
Maria stared at her for a long moment and slowly nodded. "I like it. There's no point in dragging it out."
Natasha felt herself start to grin. "He won't know what hit him."
"Who gets to call him?" Maria asked.
Natasha considered her question and then held up the spoon like a baton. "Me. Harry always comes running when I call."
Maria rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll go get ready."
They separated in the kitchen, both women heading for their rooms. Natasha peeled off her black t-shirt and tossed it over her shoulder before she'd even made it to her door. She caught her own reflection in the hallway mirror. Her hair was a mess, but in a sexy way.
She dug through her drawer for the black lace spaghetti strap top she had recently bought. She'd never worn it, but if there was a night for tactical lingerie, this was it. The straps took a moment to untangle. She yanked them into place and checked the fit. Without a bra, her tits looked spectacular. She could even see her nipples through the lace. She grabbed a lipstick and drew a line of soft pink over her lips with steady hands. Natasha then pulled off her jeans and slipped on the tiniest shorts imaginable. Her wide, thick butt cheeks practically devoured the material. She turned and checked out her ass in the mirror. She bounced a few times on her toes and smirked when her cheeks jiggled. That would certainly make an impression on him, she thought. She nodded, happy with what she saw. On her way back to the kitchen, she called Harry's number.
He picked up on the first ring. "Hey, Natasha. Did you see me on TV?"
She grinned into the phone. "Did you fuck her?"
There was a pause before he replied. "Do you want the polite answer or the honest one?"
"Neither," Natasha said. "Get over here."
Harry's voice dropped an octave. "Did you miss me?" he asked teasingly.
She said, "Maybe. You'll find out when you get here."
He laughed. "I'll be there in an hour."
She hung up, returned to the fridge, and put the rest of her gelato away. Maria emerged from her room just as Natasha was closing the freezer door.
Maria wore a sheer green blouse and a black skirt that could have passed for office attire if you squinted. Upon closer inspection, the skirt was incredibly short, showing off her smooth, toned legs. Her blouse was unbuttoned enough to show off a deep valley of cleavage. She'd put on eyeliner and lip gloss.
Maria looked her up and down. "Lace? That's a bit trashy, isn't it?"
"You look like you're going to an HR meeting," Natasha shot back.
Maria smiled. "I'm just giving him the illusion of professionalism. It looks like you're trying to make his cock pop right through his trousers."
Natasha thought about it, then shrugged. "So we're both in character."
Maria gestured to the couch. "Should we sit together … or should we ambush him at the door?"
Natasha sat on the couch and crossed her bare legs, gesturing for Maria to take the other side. "I'll answer the door, then you can ambush him." Natasha clicked on the television.
They both stared at the muted TV, which was now running an infomercial for some kind of fitness device. It was so irrelevant that it made the silence feel even worse.
Metal and Magic
Harry parked half a block down, mostly to avoid the wrath of Natasha's neighbor, who once threatened to tase him for stepping on her azaleas. In Harry's defense, he had apparated to Natasha's house with a heavy buzz, and he fell into the azaleas. He approached the house at a lazy stroll, whistling and spinning his car keys. He didn't bother to knock. Natasha's security cam picked him up before he was on the porch, and the door opened as if by magic.
He stepped in, and Natasha was right there. He greeted her by lifting her up by her ass and planting a passionate kiss on her soft, full lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, laced her arms behind his neck, and shoved her tongue into his mouth. Harry grinned into her lips and gripped her ass harder. He spun her in a circle and pinned her to the wall. She moaned into his mouth and rolled her hips against him. It seemed that Natasha had lost all sense of reason the moment Harry got his hands on her.
He was about to slide his hand under her top when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat with lethal intent. He broke the kiss and looked over Natasha's shoulder. Maria stood in the hallway, her arms crossed, and her foot tapping like a metronome.
Harry feigned surprise. "Maria! What are you doing here?" In reality, he already knew that she and Natasha were shacked up on SHIELD's orders. After Jarvis had planted his own malicious code in SHIELD's servers, he made sure to keep Harry up to date on anything involving him. Of course, Harry was also continuing to spy on them as well.
Maria's smile was tight and joyless. "I should be asking you that same question. Natasha came to the bottling plant looking for you. We got to talking and …"
"You both found out Director Fury had ordered you to join forces while pumping me for information?" Harry asked with a knowing smirk. He knew that they had finally decided to confront him, and he wasn't about to let them play him for a fool.
It was comical the way both of their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "You knew?" Maria practically screeched. Harry nodded and set Natasha down on her feet.
"Of course, I knew. I'm not an idiot. I've known all along that SHIELD has been watching me," he told them. Natasha stepped away and looked at him.
"So, you've been playing us?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry shrugged.
"No more than you've been playing me," he countered. Natasha sighed, and Maria huffed.
Natasha took his hand and led him into the living room. Maria followed, still in full Icy Bitch mode. Harry flopped onto the couch, spread his arms, and waited for the onslaught.
Maria sat at the far end of the couch, and her skirt rode up her thigh. She fixed him with a look that could curdle concrete. "So, if you knew I was here, why did you come tonight?"
Harry leaned back and stretched his legs. "Natasha invited me. I thought it was date night." He looked at Maria with a smirk. "But if it's a group date, that's even better."
Maria rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."
Natasha snorted. "We already established that."
Harry shrugged. "So, not date night?"
Maria ignored that. "You knew I'd be here when she called?"
Harry grinned. "I hoped, but I didn't want to assume."
Natasha sat on the armrest beside him. "You think this is funny?"
Harry nodded unapologetically. "A little bit, yeah. You two fighting over me … it's like my adolescent dreams come to life."
Maria's mouth twitched, but she held the line. "We're not fighting over you."
"You could have fooled me."
Natasha glared at Maria, who glared right back. Harry watched this silent battle with open amusement. When it became clear neither would yield, he sat up and said, "Let's cut to the chase. Why am I here?"
"We want answers," Maria demanded.
"About what?"
Maria's eyes narrowed. "Everything. The interviews. The bottling plant. The Iron Man stuff you're doing with Stark. We know you're up to something."
Harry smirked. "Is this where you waterboard me until I confess?"
Natasha didn't smile. "We want the truth."
Harry leaned in and dropped the playboy act. "Okay. Go ahead and ask."
Maria was ready. "When did you find out Director Fury put us together to keep tabs on you?"
Harry's grin came back in full force. "Later that same day."
Natasha blinked in surprise. "What?"
He shrugged. "SHIELD's security is good, but not good enough to stop a guy like me. I pretty much know about everything involving me. I found your reports particularly amusing."
"You've read our reports?" Maria asked.
He looked at her, almost sheepish. "Sometimes. But there wasn't anything in there that I didn't already know."
Natasha stared at him, unblinking. "So all those times you acted like you didn't know what was going on …"
"Acting," Harry confirmed. "Pretty good, huh?"
Maria looked at Natasha, then at Harry. "You're an asshole."
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Hey, you two are the ones who started it," he told them, and neither could deny it.
"Did you even really like us?" Natasha asked him, nervous about what his answer might be.
"Of course, I did. I really like both of you girls. I wouldn't have hung around if I didn't," he truthfully told them. The girls silently looked at each other.
Maria looked down, her lips pressed together. "So what now?"
Harry looked at Natasha and Maria. He put his hands behind his head. "Honestly? I don't care about SHIELD. They can keep nosing around if they want. I'm just going to keep doing what I do, and hopefully, they'll stay in the background. You can keep spying on me if you want. I actually enjoyed the attention."
Maria looked him dead in the eye. "Maybe we will."
Natasha leaned forward, her face inches from his. "Challenging us isn't a smart move."
Harry kissed her softly, then looked over at Maria. "I'm smart enough to know that I'll win."
Maria watched the kiss with a poker face, but her cheeks were pink. "So what's your move, Harry? You've got us both here. What now?"
He thought about it and said, "Why don't we get ready for bed, and we'll discuss it in the morning?" Natasha snorted, and Maria huffed and rolled her eyes.
Harry stood and surveyed the room like a king inspecting his new territory. "If you want me to choose between you … that's not happening. I'm a greedy man."
Natasha arched a brow. "You think you can handle us both?"
Harry grinned challengingly. "Try me."
Maria and Natasha shared a glance, and their entire conversation was compressed into half a second of eye contact. They could always tell him to fuck off and call the mission. However, with the truth finally out there, they might be able to gather much more information than before. Besides, their work schedules were brutal, and it was nice having someone who was willing to take care of their needs with no questions asked. They hadn't realized how much they needed that until Harry came along. "Fine … but you have to earn it," Maria bluntly told him.
"No sweat," Harry cheekily responded.
Natasha rolled her eyes and stood. "You're so annoying."
Harry hooked an arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips. Natasha didn't pull away, and her mouth opened invitingly. "Tell me something I don't know," he said after breaking the kiss.
Maria stood and straightened her skirt. She gave Harry a long, slow look. "Don't get cocky."
"It's not cocky if it's true," Harry said.
He walked to the kitchen and raided the fridge, returning with three beers. He tossed one to each woman. They all stood in the living room, sipping and eyeing each other, waiting to see who would blink first.