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Asami doesn't quite know what to expect when she steps at JFK. She's definitely not expecting Pepper Potts to be waiting at the other end of the customs line, flanked by two bodyguards and a pleasant smile on her face.
"Asami Sato?" she asks, stepping forward to shake her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you, I've heard a lot about you."
"Good to meet you too, Ms. Potts," she says, "Though, I have to say, I didn't expect the CEO of Stark Industries herself here to greet a summer intern."
"Well, Mr. Stark is one of our company's highest assets, and we'd be remiss if we didn’t treat his personal intern in kind. Besides, Lin Beifong speaks very highly of you, and Tony's...rather high-maintenance. I thought it would be better having me explain things to you than, say, Happy. No offense, Hap," she calls forward to the driver of the car, who grins and shakes his head.
"None taken, Ms. Potts."
Asami says nothing, her eyebrows climbing higher and higher.
"Ms. Sato, there are three things I want you to understand before you report in to Mr. Stark tomorrow. One, you'll be working very closely with Mr. Stark for much of the summer, and consequentially will be very much in the public eye. No matter what happens--no matter what pictures they post of you, no matter what they say about your hair or your sex life, you keep a cool head when dealing with the paparazzi. Understood?”
"With all due respect, Ms. Potts, I was raised in the public eye," Asami says, "This won't be the first time I've had my picture in the paper, and I highly doubt it will be my last."
"Of course--I should have remembered. But that does bring us to number two. Keep in mind that Tony Stark can be an egregious ass more often than not,”—she smiles fondly as she says it— “and competed with Future Industries for a good number of years. Expect cracks about your father for the first two weeks at a minimum--at least until you've proven yourself. You've got to have thick skin to work with the man--if you don't, you might as well head back to the airport right now."
"As long as he's letting me work for him, there’s really not much more I can ask for,” Asami says.
Pepper nods in approval.
"Three, you'll be taking care of some pretty mundane things, that's the nature of an internship, but if Tony EVER has you relegated to ordering coffee instead of fixing his circuit board, you come straight to me. I'd like to trust him to know what to do with an engineering protege, but we can't always expect him to live up to expectations. He can barely tie his shoes without a PA to help him--make sure he doesn't forget about you."
"I'll do my best, Ms. Potts."
"Can't ask for much more than that," Pepper says with a warm smile. The car pulls up at a fancy apartment building walking distance from Stark Tower--Asami doesn't like to flout her wealth often, but if she's going to be spending her summer halfway around the world she'd like to at least guarantee a comfortable living space.
"I'm leaving for California tonight, but you're to report to Tony's lab first thing Monday morning," Pepper says, "JARVIS has all your paperwork on file, so getting in shouldn't be a problem. Good luck, Ms. Sato--I'm sure I'll be seeing you again before the summer ends."
Asami smiles politely and waves as the car drives away, and wonders what precisely she's gotten herself into.
***
She has no idea what to wear on her first day, because although she’s supposed to report to Stark’s lab, (and presumably, hopefully, she’ll be getting her hands dirty), the internship packet she got from Pepper is extremely explicit about Stark Industries’ dress-code policy. She eventually compromises on her closest approximation to classy-yet-practical—sleek black pants, a deep red button-down shirt, and black leather boots.
“Mr. Stark, Ms. Sato has arrived,” a tinny, disembodied voice says as she enters the lab she’s been directed to. She spies Stark at a table at the end of the lab, surrounded by four different blueprint screens. He waves them aside as he walks toward her, gives her hand a firm shake.
“Okay, first things first,” Stark says, “Tomorrow, lose the fancy getup. You here to file papers or you here to make a mess?”
"Strictly mess-making, sir," Asami says, barely able to suppress a relieved smile.
"And none of that 'sir' crap, either," he waves his hand dismissively, "Else I'll start thinking you're JARVIS, and that’s really not something you want to deal with.”
"I can imagine worse fates, sir," the voice says from the ceiling.
Tony rolls his eyes and turns back to Asami, eying her critically.
"All right, Sato, first thing today is to see if you live up to paper," he says, "I've got a to-do list of things to repair as long as my arm, let's see what you can do to whittle it down."
She's presented with a diverse assortment of electronics, all in various states of disrepair, ranging from a basic laptop to an engine that looks to be hot-wired with a miniature arc reactor. For most the work would require meticulous time and effort, but it’s child's play for Asami. She's not sure how long Stark expected it to take her, but there's a definitive mixture of surprise and respect in his eyes as she calls him back over after an hour and a half.
"Okay, kid," he says as he inspects her handiwork, "Chief was right, you pass. Damn, I hate being wrong."
"Happens to the best of us, Mr. Stark," she replies with a sly grin.
"Tony," he says, "Formality's gonna get exhausting if you're gonna be here all summer."
"Tony, then. I couldn't get that last one 100%--it runs on arc reactor tech, doesn't it? Never worked with it before, wanted to run the calculations by you before I accidentally blew the lab up."
"Good call," he says as his cell phone rings. He looks at the number and swears. "I've gotta take this, but that'll be our afternoon. Meantime, poke around for a bit--see what you can find that strikes your fancy."
Tony orders in for lunch, and over pizza they discuss Asami's duties for the summer.
"You'll be shadowing me in all the meetings Pep makes me go to--as much as I hate to admit it, the corporate side of all this is important, and you'll learn a lot if you watch and listen. But most of the time you'll be helping me out with projects in the lab-- nice thing about no longer being CEO is that I've got a helluva lot more playtime here. Which means you will as well.
"Now, let's get one thing straight--I don't really believe in this whole 'internship' crap, and I never was a teacher," he says, "you're gonna learn by doing, capeesh? And I expect you to keep up. I got no time or patience for anything else."
Asami leaves that day with far too much of a spring in her step. This is turning out to be better than she even dreamed.
****
The first-day glow wears off, and things fall into a pattern--or, rather, they don't. Asami's used to odd hours and little sleep, but working for Tony Stark really takes things to a whole new level. True to Pepper's orders, she never makes the coffee, but she does consume a hell of a lot--it's hard not to, when JARVIS adds what she suspects is a dab of caramel ice cream to every cup.
Tony Stark's a demanding boss, and more than a bit of a jackass, but Asami's still learned more in the first two weeks than she learned her entire summer in Lin's research lab, though she'd never admit it to anyone. Tony shows her the ins and outs of arc reactor tech, and by the end of the second week has her started on long-term projects.
"We've got two main goals this summer," he says, "helping out with the New York cleanup, and making new stuff to go in our clean energy line. The first one’s going to be your standard stuff, the second one’s where you’ve got room to get creative. Can’t get a much bigger prototype than Stark Tower, and we want to work on downsizing it, making things that are more marketable for everyday use.”
They get into their first fight over just that, working on applying the arc reactor technology to the next model of Starkpads. Asami’s sure her specs will hold up, and her stubbornness flares when Tony tries to shut it down.
“You can’t cut corners with computer hardware, you’re being as much of a cheat as your dad ever was,” he says, “if you only stick with those equations it’s gonna blow up in your face, and I’m gonna sit here and laugh.”
Asami doesn’t say a word in reply, merely runs the tests and looks up at Tony smugly.
“Run it through at least five more times before you give me that look,” he says. “Actually, don’t ever give me that look, you’re on enough of a high horse without it.”
Turns out he’s right in the end, as the entire thing overheats and blows a circuit in the middle of the second test. She swears and drops it as she tries to pick it up, knocking over and shattering the coffee cup on a nearby table in the process.
Exactly true to form, he points a finger at her and laughs.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what exactly makes saying ‘I told you so’ so satisfying, but I’m really not gonna question it now. And you know who’s cleaning that up, too, cos it sure isn’t gonna be JARVIS.”
He lets her choose what take-out to order that night so she knows he’s not too mad, but he’s clearly still a bit salty when he finds her working on her new motorcycle in the workshop the next morning.
“Nope,” he says, “no, no, no, side projects are strictly on your own time, out of official company—hey, is that a Triumph Speed Triple?”
Asami sits up, wipes the sweat off her forehead.
“Bought it secondhand on Wednesday,” she says, “the engine was shot, they were going to put it in junkpile—I couldn’t let a beauty like this go to waste.”
Tony walks around the bike, leaning over to inspect the work she’s done to the engine.
“Oh, that is a sad story,” he whistles as he spies the interior, “you shouldn’t even be bothering with it, it looks like Bumblebee hacked up spare parts in there.”
“I like a challenge,” Asami says, “And I’ve gotta get around this city somehow. I’d prefer to do it in style.”
“And there’s not room in your apartment garage for it?”
“Stark Tower’s got way better security—”
“You know, that really ain’t sayin’ much,” Tony says, but looks ready to give in. “Okay, okay, you can keep it here, on one condition—if you ever manage to get it up and running you let me race you on it.”
Asami raises her eyebrows.
“What?” he asks, “I just put in some new modifications on my bike that I’ve been itching to test the limits on. And if you want a challenge, beating me in any road game is gonna be just that.”
She fixes the bike within the week, and as soon as Tony finds out they head out to Queens, near the ruins of the old Stark Expo site.
“One of these days we should actually level this out,” he says, “Meantime, it’s great for our purposes. Just enough obstacles to get creative.”
Happy acts as referee.
“Rule number 1,” he shouts, “don’t kill each other. I’ve got about ten different people who would have my head if it came to that. Rule number 2: ah…well…that’s about it.”
Tony gives Asami a cocky grin as he puts his helmet on. “You’d better hope that thing handles like a dream, Sato, cos you’re goin’ up against grade-A arc reactor modifications.”
Asami rolls her eyes as she puts on her own helmet and guns the engine. Happy throws up the flag, and they’re off.
Not for nothing was Asami nicknamed the Motor Queen at school. And though this track isn’t nearly as exciting as the ones the benders have modified in Republic City, it’s still got enough of its own twists and turns. Tony’s bike is technically faster, but Asami’s got far more on maneuverability. They change leads about five different times, but she finally passes him for good on a particularly sharp turn at the end of the track. She screeches to a halt as she crosses the finish line, and turns back to see him coming behind in the dust.
Tony pulls up behind her, looking more than a little disgruntled as he takes off his helmet.
“You know, showing up your boss is considered a fireable offense in some companies…”
Asami shakes her head she spies Pepper standing on the side of the racetrack, her hair gracefully windswept.
“Learning a lot, Ms. Sato?” she asks, the corners of her mouth twitching.
****
It's a relatively lazy Friday afternoon at the end of June when a man with rumpled hair and glasses wanders into the lab, looking surprised to find Asami up to her elbows in spare parts and shouting at Tony over "Shake a Leg."
“New recruit?” he asks wryly. Tony jumps up and turns off the music.
“Had to get someone to replace your sorry ass,” he grins, looking more genuinely pleased than Asami’s yet seen him. “Didn’t know how long you’d be gone, after all.”
He turns to Asami. “Asami Sato, this is Bruce Banner, one of the greatest living minds of our generation—and, to my knowledge, the world’s only sentient wrecking ball.”
“Must you really?” Bruce rolls his eyes, but he smiles as he shakes Asami’s hand, “I promise you, you’ll only ever see the ‘greatest living mind’ bit in Stark Tower.”
“Good to meet you, Dr. Banner,” she says, “I read your paper on anti-electron collisions for a class last year—it was a huge help for one of my projects. Don’t think we would have gotten the semantics of it right if not for you.”
Bruce whistles.
“Girl knows how to charm. Didn’t know you were the type to take on interns, Tony.”
“Never had been before,” Tony replies, “But my arm got twisted, and whole thing’s turned out to be worth its weight in gold. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised—she’s one of Lin Beifong’s students.”
Bruce looks at Asami with an odd expression.
“No kidding?” he asks, “I didn’t realize she was teaching now…”
“She’s been at RCU the past ten years at least,” Asami says.
“Guess I wouldn’t have known, then,” he shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. ”Lin teaching—how about that?”
Now it’s Tony’s turn to give Bruce a surprised look.
“Wait—you know the Chief?”
“Yeah, we were in the same class at Caltech. She was top in engineering, and I was top in everything else—we complimented each other quite nicely.”
“Wait,” Asami says slowly, putting two and two together, “you weren’t her prankster-in-crime, were you? The other half of the Robot Zombie Incident?”
Bruce blinks for a moment, then bursts out laughing.
“Christ, she still tells that story?” he says, still chuckling a little as he takes off his glasses.
“First anecdote in her ‘Unethical Applications of Mechanical Engineering’ lecture,” Asami grins, “I think she’s still rather proud, personally.”
“Stop right there,” Stark sputters, waving his hand in disbelief. “Back, up because I’m clearly missing something—robot zombies??”
Asami looks at Bruce expectantly, who shakes his head as he rubs the bridge of his nose.
“It was Halloween, the administration was trying to implement a blanket ban on parties, god only knows why. So we think, what’s the best way to create a little excitement on campus? Obviously it’s nothing for Lin to whip up your basic humanoid robot, but she needed me to make it look realistic. I had all the materials in the chemistry lab for synthetic flesh, fake blood, what have you—we made him look pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. Terrorized the campus for two weeks straight before the administration finally caught it and figured out who’d been responsible.”
“The best part, though,” Asami can’t resist from breaking in, “Is that it was programed to vomit fake brains over anyone who came within a foot of it.”
Bruce snorts.
“I forgot about that…Lin’s touch, that one,” he says reminiscently.
Tony puts a hand over his eyes as he shakes his head.
“How,” he asks, “how in God’s name had I never heard about this before now?”
“This is back in the days before the MIT-Caltech hack rivalry was big,” Bruce says, “It never got attention beyond our class and some very disgruntled admins. Lin’s mother was furious, we were on academic probation an entire term…”
But Tony’s not listening as he wanders in the direction of the elevator, muttering to himself “robot zombies…”
“Dr. Banner, I think you broke my boss,” Asami whispers to Bruce.
“Huh” he replies, “nice to know I’m not just capable of doing that when I’m large and green.”
****
“You need to do more schmoozing,” Tony says to her one morning in mid-July.
“Beg pardon?” she shouts behind a welding mask.
“More schmoozing,” he repeats, “You make nice with all the execs in meetings, but you’ve barely talked to anyone your own age, tried to make any real connections. And in this business, those are almost as important as the ability to build the next supercomputer. Which, nice job on that, by the way—I looked it over last night and it’s definitely going on file for the next Starktech model.”
“Thanks” she says, and takes off the welding mask. “Do really mean that—with the schmoozing? Or are you giving me another ‘tried-and-true’ from Pepper?”
“Just giving you some suggestions for how to occupy yourself when I’m on vacation the next couple of weeks. You need to have something to do besides killing yourself with envy that you don’t get to come to the Malibu beach party.”
“I like how you just assume that I'd want to join the whiskey-and-weed club you and Banner have going down there…"
“Bite your tongue,” he replies, “I still might have you come out at the end of the summer. It’s sort of on your way home, and at the very least you need to be introduced to Dummy. Your robots are way too complicated, you need to see the simpler ones. And he’s a charmer once you get to know him…”
“I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly, Tony,” Asami has to keep from rolling her eyes. She has an appropriate amount of fondness for her projects, but she doesn’t know anyone who gets quite as attached to his AIs as Tony does.
“In the meantime, I am serious, try and get to know some of the young twerps in SI. I don’t know, impress a guy with your motorcycle, that thing can only attract the right type of people…”
“I’ll do my best,” she says, though her hopes aren’t really that high. She’s tried to be friendly with the other interns at Stark Industries, has gone on the company-sponsored outings they’ve put together for them all, but has mostly concluded that they’re a bunch of rich white Ivy-Leaguers whose parents got them the internship. She smiles, and makes polite conversation, but knows if she really wanted to make friends in New York it would be far removed from the business-and-tech world. And as much as she’d like to meet other people and explore the city, between her projects in the workshop and going to meetings with Tony there simply isn’t the time to cast her net that far afield. She has her priorities, after all.
She knows her social situation isn’t ideal, but it’s just for a summer—and really, it’s enough to sign onto Gchat at 5 in the morning and see that Korra’s online.
Korrabear:
late night or early morning?
AsamiSato
: Both?
Korrabear
: girl you know you're not getting paid for this right.
AsamiSato
: It'll pay if they hire me after graduation.
Korrabear
: fiiiiiiiine. I just don't want you to start rocking the sleepless-zombie look. Your face is too nice for that.
AsamiSato
: I'd like to think you'd appreciate my face no matter what state it's in.
Korrabear
: obvs. Skype? I'd like to see it.
Asami grins widely as Korra’s face comes up on the screen.
“So, how's the training going? I haven't talked to you in, what, a week?”
Korra makes a face. “Boriiiiiing. No one's on campus except the benders, really, and Tenzin keeps ragging on me to come to his mediation classes. though at this point I'd rather go to those, the gym's becoming intolerable...”
“Hmmm,” Asami replies sardonically, “A gym full of hot, sweaty, disgustingly attractive benders. I can't imagine anything worse.”
Korra sighs. “The attractive ones are in short supply these days. It's mostly that Tahno asshole who's monopolizing everything.”
“He's still bothering you and the Fire Ferrets?”
"Yeah," Korra rolls her eyes, "It's almost sad. If I didn't know any better I'd think it was once of those 'he only punches you cos he likes you' things... little does he know I'm a kept woman."
Asami smirks. "No one can keep you anywhere, Korra, least of all me."
"Not that you don't try," Korra grins back. "So, when do you get to try out Stark's suit?"
“Ugh, don't tempt me,” Asami groans, “I wouldn’t even need to try his… I could build my own in a day now, especially now that I know how the arc reactor tech works. Just...he seems touchy about the suit."
"Doesn't he loan one out to what's-his-name, that Rhodes guy...?"
"Yes, but a) Rhodey's a decorated military vet, b) he’s one of Tony’s best friends, and c) loan is the key word. Every working suit out there, Tony's built himself. Don’t know how he'd react if I built one myself, and I don't want to get on his bad side. Besides, there's plenty else to do, with the clean energy project, and..."
"Girl, you're coasting and you know it," Korra interrupts, "You showed me your specs before you left, you could have built a suit without his help weeks ago—and you’ve been wanting to for months. Besides, you're ten times the hero Tony Stark is any day--"
"Only when we're alone," Asami says mischievously.
But Korra flaps her hand dismissively. "Asami, I'm serious!! You could do it, and there's nothing to stop you. You want to fly, why don't you?"
"I'd like to keep my job," Asami says, "this is the best opportunity I've ever had, Korra. I don’t want to mess it up by making the most visible superhero in the world angry.”
"What Stark doesn't know wont hurt him," Korra says, "and who knows, he'll probably be impressed that you can pull it off so well. I'd be, if I was in his position."
Asami sighs. Before Korra she used to get in a lot less trouble. On the other hand, before Korra she was a lot less happy.
"We'll see...”
"Show 'em what ya got, girl," Korra grins, "Then it’ll be the Avatar and Iron Queen against the world.”
***
Try as she might to ignore them, Korra’s words float through Asami’s head during the first week that Stark’s gone, and she finds herself absent-mindedly doodling her designs and calculations in the margins of her other projects.
Eventually, it’s reading an old feature article on all the failed attempts to reproduce the suit that pushes her over the edge—the number of idiotic attempts is just astounding to her, and she knows she could make a suit her first try. Korra’s right: she’s only coasting if she doesn’t go for it. And Asami wasn’t born for coasting.
She spends two days hammering out the equations and specifications on paper in her apartment before she finally brings anything back into Stark Tower. And even then, she knows it’s going to be a touchy subject.
“Hey, JARVIS,” she asks slowly, “how much can I trust you?”
There’s a brief silence before JARVIS answers.
“I’m not quite sure I follow, Ms. Sato.”
She sighs.
“If I were, hypothetically, to build something as an independent project,” she says, “one that, say, involved individual flight and personalized armor, would you tell Tony or would you be able to keep it between the two of us?”
An even longer silence.
“Technically, Ms. Sato, I’m programmed to prevent and report all unauthorized lab activity in Mr. Stark’s absence. However… I’m also programmed to act in Mr. Stark’s best interests. And a bit of healthy competition is certainly in his best interests.”
Asami grins. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, JARVIS.”
“The feeling’s rather mutual, Ms. Sato.”
She doesn’t leave the lab for three days, barely sleeping, nearly neglecting her other projects in favor of getting the suit built. There’s a lot of sweat and a lot of swearing, and far too much ramen. Though she could easily just copy Tony’s suit she’s determined to get it done without the arc reactor tech and with her own special modifications, for she wants this to be hers as much as it can be. She does, however, wind up painting the thing red in the end—it’s always been her color, as much as she knows she should probably abandon it in this instance. She trims it with black and steps back in the dusky sunlight, admiring her handiwork with more than a bit of trepidation.
“Okay,” she says at last, “Let’s give it a go?”
“Looks as ready as it ever will, Ms. Sato,” JARVIS says, “Though, may I suggest beginning at 2% capacity, and in the basement—as you’ve seen from the video footage, no one’s first attempt ever seems to go well.”
“All right…attempt number one it is,” she says, and steps into the armor. She’d rather imagined a suffocating or claustrophobic effect the first time, but it feels rather like a large glove, and the visuals on the faceplate work nothing but wonders. She wiggles her fingers experimentally. So far, so good.
“Thrusters at 3% capacity,” she says, “3…2…1…”
The suit hums, and she hovers in the air.
“Let’s go horizontal now…oh, oh boy…”
She powers up the thrusters in the boots and shoots forward.
“How am I doing here…” she checks the stats on the screen. All systems look good.
“All right, let’s do this now…”
The suit pushes her up and out of Stark Tower, and she gives an elated shriek as she soars over the New York skyline.
***
Though she’s exhausted she can barely sleep for the high she’s on—she fucking flew, okay, that’s not something you’re going to react to with any sort of dignity—and she comes back to Stark Tower the next morning in a pleased sort of daze. She snaps out of it, though, the moment she steps into the lab and sees Tony standing over a set of blueprints. Blueprints that look suspiciously like hers.
“You know, the funny thing about New York City in the aftermath of an alien invasion,” he says, his voice dangerously casual, “Is that it’s a pretty high priority for the military to be looking out for unidentified blips in the sky. So it’s a bit of an unpleasant surprise to get a call from SHIELD asking if someone’s stolen my suit again.”
Asami keeps her face carefully neutral, but a hard knot forms in the pit of her stomach.
“You said I should keep myself occupied while you were gone?” she shrugs and gives a guilty smile, tries to keep things light, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for it.
“Thought I’d hear about this first from JARVIS rather than SHIELD, but guess you can’t trust anyone, these days.” Asami winces at that—it doesn’t take a genius to see the laundry list of trust issues Tony’s got.
“Tony, that’s my fault, I didn’t—”
“So,” he interrupts, gesturing at the blueprints, “were you planning to ever tell me about this, or were you, just, I don’t know, going to run back to daddy and wait for me to see Future Industries come out with a whole line of ‘em?”
Asami bristles.
“I don’t know how many times I have to make it clear to you that I want nothing to do with my father’s company,” she snaps, “I built it for myself, no one else.”
“And now what, now that you’ve got it?” he counters, “What are you gonna do when the government starts demanding you give it to them? Just going to go waltzing over to SHIELD and register with the Avenger Initiative? Because they’re pretty tetchy about who they want wandering around with type of stuff and who they don’t.”
“I wasn’t under the impression that I needed to answer to anyone,” Asami says, her tone icy, “I’m a grown woman, Tony, I’m perfectly capable of—”
“No,” he cuts her off, looking truly angry for the first time Asami’s ever seen, “No, you’re a fucking kid, Asami, this isn’t just some college project. You don’t know what it does to you, you don’t know the kind of responsibility involved—”
“Right, because you’ve lived such a noble and responsible life since you got that magnet put in your chest,” Asami shoots back, knowing she’s only digging herself in deeper and not really caring. “I didn’t build this on some fluke, Tony, god I—I wanted to do more than— you only—”
“What?” he asks, the challenge in his voice, “I only what?”
“You can’t be everywhere all the time!” she exclaims, “yes, you’ve got your Avenger team, and you’ve got your American spy network that sticks its nose where it shouldn’t belong all over the world, but what’s the point of your ‘privatizing world peace’ bullshit if it’s just you. I don’t know, I thought I could actually be of some use…”
“Listen, if you think for one minute—” he breaks off as his phone rings.
“Stark,” he barks into it. His face darkens as he listens to the voice on the other end.
“No, Romanov, this is not how it works, I am not fucking on call for you people—” he pauses, is silent. “Look, I know it’s open season now, but I’ve got my own problems to deal with at the moment. Isn’t this what you dug up the Capsicle for?”
Asami can faintly make out a woman’s voice on the other end. Tony scowls.
“Let me remind you of my rates,” he says in exasperation, “And that I get paid by the hour.”
He hangs up the phone and points a finger at Asami.
“We’ll talk about this when I get back,” he says, “In the meantime, stay here and try not to build any other personalized weapons while I’m gone.”
“What…where are you going?”
“SHIELD wants an in-and-out job,” he says as he walks out of the lab, “For reasons I don’t quite understand, they want to save New Jersey from the flying robots that are suddenly shooting lasers at it.”
She stares at his back, before she swears and runs after him.
****
“Sato, go home,” Tony’s voice snaps in her ear as she zooms past him in the sky, “you haven’t even tested the damn thing, and you don’t even know—”
“The minute something dents my armor, I’ll fly back,” she snaps back through the intercom, “but the faster you finish this the faster you can go back to the Tower to chew me out— I’m pretty sure two suits will get the job done more quickly than one.”
Tony swears and she sees him fly past her again.
“Well, if you’re gonna stick around, follow my lead,” he says, “do you even have any idea where you’re going?”
They come up to a small suburban town, dozens of tiny aircraft spitting laserbeams into the air, two SHIELD-issued planes circling in the distance.
“Care to fill us in, Agent Romanov?” Tony asks.
“From what we’ve been able to figure out, these things have been in orbit since the Chitauri left,” Asami hears a clipped female voice on the comm in her helmet, “hiding in the midst of all the satellites…alone they’re too small to take up much notice, but put them all together and send them on a havoc-wreaking trip to one city, and they pack a hell of a punch. Loki’s way of playing with us, I can only assume—I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t the first of a bunch of parting gifts he’s tucked away.”
“So nice of him to leave us souvenirs,” Tony replies sardonically, “So, what do you need us for?”
“They’re tiny, and their maneuverability’s too sophisticated for our planes,” she says, “We need the kind of firepower you’ve got—go after ‘em, shoot them down one by one. And, ‘us’? Who’s your friend?”
“The Iron Idiot, for lack of a better term,” Tony says, “But if she’s a good as she thinks she is she’ll actually be able to help out here.”
“I see,” Romanov says, her voice carefully measured. “You got a real name to go with that moniker?”
“Asami Sato,” Asami says, “And I’d prefer that, if you please.”
“Understood, Ms. Sato. Have you managed to put as much specialized weaponry in that thing as Stark’s got?”
“I’ve put in enough,” Asami responds, “you’re both going to want to do the simultaneous-bomb thing, right?”
“Roger that,” Stark says, “program it in, hit ‘em with all you got.”
Asami follows Stark into the center of the town and gears the suit up to fire. Even with the automatic programming, though, she only manages to knock out about three of the robots on the first pass, most of them managing to dodge their fire.
“God, what I wouldn’t give for that kind of reaction time,” Tony says, “Only for me and not for them.”
“Well,” Asami says, as she notices all the robots all turning towards them, “at least we managed to get their attention?”
“Stark, Sato, get out of the line of fire,” she hears Romanov on the comm, “You’re sitting ducks out there.”
“Then what did you call us in for, if not to get put in the line of fire?” Tony asks, clearly exasperated.
“We’re gonna have to try a plan B,” Romanov says, “You’ve made them mad now, all they’re going to do is chase you until they’ve shot you down…”
“No,” Asami interrupts, “no, let them chase one of us. Their reaction-time is fast, but if they’re so fixated on going after one of us they’ll be that much less likely to notice one of us coming at them from behind.”
There’s a pause on the comms. Then….
“That could work,” Romanov says, “A strategist in the suit, that’s a nice change…”
“Ah, stow it,” Tony says, “Okay, Sato, let’s do this. I’ll be the bait, you shoot ‘em down.”
“Roger that,” Asami confirms and banks left.
Asami’s prediction holds true, and with Tony acting as a distraction she manages to shoot down most of the robots. One final one escapes their notice and chases them all the way back to New York, and Asami’s so distracted from trying to shoot it off of Tony’s back that she barely notices when one of her shots misses and shatters a window in the penthouse of Stark Tower. It does provide her with a ready entrance into the Tower when the robot is finally destroyed, however, and Tony flies in soon after her. He swears as he inspects the penthouse damage, grabs the whiskey from behind the bar and pours himself a drink.
“I am done,” he says, “I am DONE with that goddamn window being broken by every otherworldly thing that comes to this planet.”
He looks at Asami, still in her armor, standing around awkwardly for what might be the first time in her life.
“Hope you figured out how to program getting the armor off after it’s gotten a good beating,” he says, “otherwise you’re gonna have a fun couple of hours.”
Asami blinks. That hadn’t, in fact, been something she’d factored into her calculations.
Stark rolls his eyes, shakes his head.
“Get JARVIS to help you with it in the workshop and go home,” he says, “Get a drink, get some rest, whatever you need to unwind, I don’t care. We’ll talk in the morning.”
She nods, heads to walk out the door, but stops and turns back around.
“Tony, I…”
“Talk later,” he says, pointing to the glass of whiskey in his hand, “Drink now.”
****
She’s on her way out of Stark Tower an hour and a half later, tallying the number of bumps and bruises she’s got, when she hears a familiar voice call out her name behind her.
“Ms. Sato!” she turns to see a red-haired woman in a flight suit walking toward her. “A word, if you don’t mind?”
“Agent Romanov, I presume?” she asks. Romanov nods and holds out her hand for Asami to shake.
“That was some impressive work back there,” she says, surveying Asami sharply, “And that suit didn’t look like a Stark model—you build it yourself?”
“I did,” Asami responds carefully. Romanov gives her an expectant look, but Asami’s not particularly in the mood to elaborate, especially not with a SHIELD agent.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Ms. Romanov, but it’s been a long day—is there something you need from me?”
“Just a conversation,” she answers, “SHIELD’s going to want to officially debrief you very soon, but I thought we should talk first.”
“There’s really not that much to talk about,” Asami says, “Unless they want a full blow-by-blow of how to blow up flying spiders, and I’m pretty sure you can give that to them yourself.”
“I’m afraid that’s not quite how it works,” Romanov answers, “You’re on SHIELD’s radar now, and you need to be fully aware of what that means—and what choices you’re going to have to make.”
“I’m quite aware of what it means,” Asami says, “and I’m not interested in anything Director Fury has to say to me. I know you all fashion yourselves as world police, but if I continue to use the armor I’ll be doing so for United Republic—not Tony, not the Avengers, and certainly not for SHIELD.”
Romanov sighs, and something—sympathy, perhaps?—flickers behind her eyes as she looks at Asami.
“Listen, I understand how your feelings toward SHIELD might be less than positive—”
“Agent Romanov, I know you’re just doing your job here, but please don’t presume to understand my life or my opinions,” Asami interrupts, “you don’t know anything about me or my history with your organization.”
“Ms. Sato, you forget that SHIELD’s currency is information,” Romanov replies, “and I do, in fact, know a fair amount about your history with SHIELD. Perhaps more than you do yourself.”
“Do you really—”
“Look,” Romanov sighs, “I’m the last person you’d expect to speak in favor of SHIELD. But it’s done me a lot of favors in my time, done the same for people the world over. Fury’s not going to try to tether you to us—not too hard, anyway—but I thought you should be fully informed before you make a decision about anything.”
“What exactly is it you want me to be informed about?” Asami asks suspiciously.
“Namely, this,” Romanov replies, “SHIELD isn’t above getting its hands dirty, but the world’s changed, in ways no one ever could have anticipated. We’re changing with it, too. Hell, this is the third alien invasion we’ve fought off within the year—it’s a whole different song to be singing. So just—don’t write us off, okay? Fury will be in touch.”
Asami sighs as Romanov walks off. She could definitely use that drink Stark mentioned right about now.
***
She’s at her desk in Tony’s office early the next morning, alternating between checking online tabloids (“SUPER-INTERN SATO SEDUCES IRON MAN”) and her email (“Keep a cool head” [email protected]; “FLY ASAMI FLY!” [email protected]) when the phone call comes in. She picks it up, not recognizing the number, and freezes when she hears the voice on the other end.
“I have to say, Asami, the last thing I expected to see on the news was my own daughter flying around with Tony Stark—and SHIELD agents to boot.”
“How did you get this number?” she asks, closing her laptop shut with deliberate care.
“Oh, you’d be surprised, my dear,” Hiroshi Sato chuckles, “When you get to be a man in my position, there’s a remarkable amount of information at your fingertips, even from a prison cell.”
Hang up, she thinks to herself, just hang up now, there’s nothing good he has to say to you…
“What do you want?”
“I just thought we should have a little talk,” he says smoothly, “Now that the Sato name is back in the papers again, I’m rather interested in how it winds up doing so.”
“It’s really none of your business…”
“I have to say, I find myself disappointed, Asami,” he cuts in, “I thought you’d sunk far enough associating with those benders, but I still never thought you’d stoop low enough to emulate the Merchant of Death himself—particularly given the money Stark’s company siphoned off from Future Industries over the years…”
“Isn’t that the point of capitalism? Competition, only the strong survive, all you ever taught me?”
“And this is the equivalent of sleeping with the enemy,” her father replies, “I don’t trust Stark any farther than I can throw him, nor do I trust that damned SHIELD that he associates with. I’m still convinced they had something to do with your mother’s death, and as such I can only advise you…”
“I think,” Asami interrupts, her tone icy, “That after you tried to kill me you lost any right to advise me on anything.”
“Asami, please,” he says, “I still have nothing but your best interests at heart, you know…”
“All I know,” she cuts him off, her hands shaking, “is that if you ever attempt to contact me again I will personally fly out to wherever they’re holding you and make sure you’re put in a place where you never can.”
She hangs up the phone and slams it onto the desk, glaring at it, silently daring him to call her back. She tries to occupy herself with the computer but gives up after five minutes, pushing her chair back and storming out of the room.
Asami has always prided herself on her composure. Three years ago she walked away from her father and never looked back, held her head high throughout his trial, barely blinked twice when his lawyers tried to smear her on the cross-examination. She knows that she’s tougher than half the people she knows, that her ability to push through a crisis is one of her greatest assets. Life will come, and you have to take the rough roads in as much stride as the smooth ones.
But she never fully mourned that first time, and it’s been a shit week; her girlfriend’s halfway across the world and Asami’s never felt quite so alone. So it’s only with a little bit of shame that she locks herself in the basement lab and breaks down sobbing, because if Asami’s earned anything in the past few days it’s the right to turn into an emotional wreck.
She pulls herself together enough to try and call Korra, doesn’t care if it means using up all of her long-distance minutes. Of course she doesn’t pick up, but at least, for once, her voicemail isn’t full.
“Korra, it’s me…look, I know you’re probably in training or at a movie right now but…my dad called me, and you know, I just…” her voice breaks, “I can deal with aliens in New York, I can deal with SHIELD harassment, I can deal with Stark being pissed at me, but this is, it’s the one thing I can’t deal with right now, he had the nerve to bring up my mother, and there aren’t words for how much I want to just…” she takes a deep breath, knows she’s sounding hysterical and that Korra’s probably going to freak if she ever listens to this.
“I’m okay,” she says, “You know I’ll be okay, I’ll be fine, I just…I want to hear your voice, if you get a chance. Call me, okay?”
She puts down the phone and looks up to see Stark standing in the doorway. She swears and swipes at her eyes hastily, embarrassed that he’s seeing her like this, wondering how much he heard.
“Rough morning?” he asks.
She lets out a bitter laugh and takes another deep breath, making sure her voice is steady before she speaks.
“One way to put it, yeah,” she sniffs. “Not my day for long-distance calls.”
“Yep, those are always terrible ideas,” he walks over and sits next to her on the workbench. “I have a strict avoidance policy of any out-of-state phone number, they only ever want money or the next five years of your life.”
“You and my girlfriend would get along famously,” she snorts, shaking her head weakly. “Advice I should have taken today, I guess.”
He shifts, almost uncomfortably, on the workbench. “So, you…got a call from your old man, then?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Trying to dispense his own ‘fatherly advice,’ as per usual.”
He nods.
“No offense, but, ah…from all I’ve heard, you don’t seem like the person your old man would wanna waste his one phone call on.”
“Oh, I think he gets more than one phone call,” she answers bitterly, “Put a rich man in prison, doesn’t sound like it does all that much.”
“You know, it really depends on the prison,” he says, “Beifong ever tell you how the two of us first met?”
Asami gives Tony a dumbfounded look. He waves his hand away.
“Another time,” he says, “Pepper’s gotta be there whenever I tell that story anyway, she keeps me straight.”
“I’ll look forward to it, then,” Asami says with raised eyebrows.
They both lapse into silence,
“So, ah…wanna…talk about it?”
Asami snorts.
“Not much to talk about,” she says, “besides, you’re my boss, Tony, you don’t have to be my babysitter, too.”
“Hey, kid, in case you haven’t noticed, the password for this tower’s super-secret boy band is ‘daddy issues.’ I won’t pretend to know your exact situation, but …I think I’ve got a bit of a feeling of what you’re goin’ through. And, to put it frankly, it sucks balls.”
She looks sharply at him. She forgets, sometimes, that he’s the son of Howard Stark just as much as she’s the daughter of Hiroshi Sato.
“My dad could be a mean sonovabitch,” he continues, reflecting, “cared way more about the company and the legacy than he ever did me, at least the way I saw it. And, y’know, the two times in my life I’ve allowed myself to get sentimental about him, I wondered if things would’ve been different if he’d lived, if we’d have reconciled. But I’d be lying to you if I ever entertained that possibility longer than five seconds. Geniuses are usually dealt shit cards in the family hand—just hack into Banner’s file sometime. Actually, don’t, unless you want to drown yourself in misery.”
Asami shakes her head. She’s not above some friendly hacking, but there are some things she’d prefer not to know. She stares at her hands.
“I thought of changing my name, you know, after the trial,” she says slowly, “he had done so much to me, to my friends— I was so many different kinds of finished. I was going to take up my mother’s maiden name, cut all ties once and for all. But…I couldn’t do it. For all that happened, I couldn’t make that break, god only knows why. Then days like today happen and I think I should have done it the moment I left home.”
Tony considers her thoughtfully.
“Well,” he says, “It’s your name as much as it is his. I mean, Christ, you know as well as I do what the name Stark still means in most places of the world. But—I’m trying to make it mean something else, make up for the mistakes my dad made and I followed. Whether it’s with Iron Man, or the clean energy project—I dunno, you’ve gotta make a new legacy. And correct me if I’m wrong, but seems to me like you’re already headed down that path—it’s why you’re so gung-ho about flying around in the damn suit, isn’t it?”
She blinks. She’d never really thought about it in quite those terms, but—she’s always been acutely aware of the fact that the Sato name had a lot to answer for. And what had she been working towards these past three years anyway? What good would the suit be, would good would her work ever be, if she didn’t use it to try and repair the damage her father had wrought?
“Yeah,” she says finally. “I guess that is one way to put it.”
She gives him a sidelong glance.
“So…does that mean you’re not gonna fire me for unauthorized use of lab materials?”
“Nah,” Tony says, patting her shoulder, “I’ve got a full month left of free labor to extort outta you, I’m not gonna waste that. And, you know, your flying form’s not bad, but you could use a few tips from a master. Gotta be in top form when you go home and deal with all those metalbending cops in the Republic City Police Department.”
“Oh, my flying form could use some work?” Asami asks sarcastically, “just who exactly was it who shot those spider-bots off your back yesterday?”
“I wouldn’t have needed them off my back if you hadn’t led them there in the first place…”
***
August passes in a blur, and suddenly Asami’s departure date looms large in the calendar. She rushes to complete all her official projects and finally get started on the side ones she’s been putting off all summer. She almost forgets her 21st birthday in her haste to put finishing touches on the Iron Maiden suit and install her self-sustaining motorcycle engine, but remembers in time to tell Tony that no, she’s been able to legally drink since she was eighteen, she doesn’t need him to pour her kamikaze shots in the penthouse.
“Don’t be a killjoy,” he says as he drags her to the elevator, “I’ve got to pour you your first legal drink in the States, I’d be the world’s worst host if I didn’t.”
She rolls her eyes but allows herself to be led to the elevator—and opens her mouth in astonishment as the elevator opens on at least a dozen people in the penthouse shouting “SURPRISE!”
“You just wanted an excuse to throw a party, didn’t you?” she mutters sidelong in Tony’s ear.
“I’m an opportunist if nothing else, Sato,” he mutters back, grins, “But if you’re complaining, I can tell them all to go home…”
She follows his gaze and spies Korra and Lin standing near the bar, both with sheepish smiles on their faces.
She turns to Tony and gives him a fierce hug.
“Next time anyone calls you a narcissistic tool, just send ‘em over to me,” she says, kissing him on the cheek. She laughs at the horrified look on his face and bounces over to Korra, who takes her up and spins her around enthusiastically.
“You are never allowed to live on the other side of the world again,” Korra says, brushing her hair out of her eyes affectionately. “At least, not in a place where the Avatar’s services wouldn’t be required too.”
“Hate to break it to you kids, but long-distance relationships are gonna be part and parcel of your life if you keep on your respective career paths,” Lin says. Korra scowls at her.
“Been hearing a lot about your work from Stark,” Lin says to Asami, a rare smile on her face, “You’ve done me very proud, Asami—I hardly even know what to give for you to work on this year.”
Asami beams, and looks around to see who else has come. A couple of the friendlier interns from SI are here, and Pepper’s flown in from California—Asami makes a note to buy her a nice bottle of wine before she flies back to United Republic. She frowns as she sees Agent Romanov in the back corner with a man who looks to be another SHIELD agent. She groans to herself as Romanov catches her eye and makes her way over.
“Damn,” Asami says, “Hey Korra, can you do me a favor and head off that red-haired woman? I don’t know, regale her with stories of your pro-bending matches?”
“Yes ma’am, Asami ma’am,” Korra salutes and marches straight toward Romanov, asking her if she’s ever seen a real bender in action before.
Asami rolls her eyes. Subtle, Korra…
“What was that all about?” Lin gives her a curious look.
“I’m trying to leave the country without getting sucked into an official SHIELD debrief,” Asami says, “But it’s a bit difficult if Tony’s inviting his favorite agents to every get-together he throws.”
“Aah,” Lin says. “You know that avoidance trick’s only going to work for so long—they’ve got a pretty far reach.”
“Well, I’ll run til they catch me,” Asami replies, “I don’t have a problem with telling Nick Fury to bugger off, but I’d rather not have the argument if I can help it.”
“Understood,” Lin says, an amused look in her eyes.
“So,” she asks, “What are you planning to do now, once you come back home? Republic City could certainly use the Iron Maiden, but I know you—you’re going to want a day job too, aren’t you?”
“Well, Pepper’s already gunning for me to come back to Stark Industries after graduation,” Asami says, “And it’d be lovely to work with her and Tony again, but…”
“But…” Lin supplies.
“I don’t know,” Asami says, “Something I’ve been thinking about since I built the suit..about going back to Future Industries. There’s enough stock left in the Sato name, I could totally pull a hostile takeover from the inside. There’s been a void since it went downhill, and…I don’t know. That company’s left a legacy, all in my father’s name, and not much of it is good. I’d like to turn that around.
Lin gives her a disbelieving look, and lets out a boom of laughter.
“You realize Stark will have my head if it turns out his initial prediction about you was right all along?”
“I don’t know, Lin,” she says, looking over at Tony, arguing with Pepper about god only knows what. “Somehow, I think he’ll understand.”