Chapter Text
"People are starting to get suspicious."
Tony inwardly groaned, not bothering to look at Rhodey. He was elbow deep in the torso of his next Ironman suit, as he had been for the last several hours. The lab had always been his safe haven, away from the press and the world, so why did Rhodey have to bring the world into his workshop? "People talk. They've always talked when it comes to me. What's the difference?"
His friend leaned against the table, his arms crossed as he forced himself into Tony's peripheral vision. "The difference is that they're figuring it out. You didn't exactly have the perfect cover story about Ironman."
"I have no clue why they picked that name. It's gold titanium alloy-"
"That's besides the point, Tones." He waved a hand between Tony and his work until he looked up, annoyed, to meet the man's gaze. "They're catching on that you and Ironman are never in the same place despite him being your bodyguard."
"And I told them he's outside surveillance-"
"Conspiracy theorists are always more interesting, and you know some of them are hitting the mark. It won't be long before everyone starts putting two and two together."
Tony put down his wrench, crossing his arms over the glow of the arc reactor. "What exactly am I supposed to do about it?"
"Throw them a bone. Give them something else to talk about."
"I thought you liked that I wasn't pulling media stunts anymore?" He'd left his lifestyle behind after Afghanistan, after Obadiah, after everything. Keeping the peace left little time for partying, even if he wanted to. He was CEO of Stark Industries, which was now a pioneering tech and natural energy company, and Ironman, the latter of which only Rhodey, Happy, and JARVIS knew about.
Honestly, despite how busy it was, it was a much more fulfilling life than what he'd had.
Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Not like that. I mean - you're twenty-eight, world renowned bachelor with a better reputation than you ever had before."
"You're saying that you want me to start dating to get people to stop talking about me and Ironman?" It sounded absolutely ridiculous. He didn't have time to eat half the time, much less date.
(And maybe he wouldn't admit that dating was a bit terrifying. He'd never had a stable relationship in his life.)
Rhodey shrugged. "It's an idea-"
"An idea that potentially would have someone actually finding out about Ironman. Plus, that sounds manipulative to date someone purely to keep people from finding out I have an alter ego."
"You don't actually need to date anyone-"
"What, fake date? This is not some cheesy rom-com."
"Will you let me finish?" Tony made a guesture, telling him to go ahead. Rhodey continued. "I mean, drop some hints that you're on the market. People go crazy for celebrity drama. They'll take a crumb and make it into a whole thing."
"And then women will try to actually date me." With his superhero secret, the arc reactor, everything that had happened since his kidnapping, he wasn't sure he was emotionally stable or even wanting to do that. He'd be too paranoid. He wouldn't want to put anyone in danger either.
He was a hot mess.
Rhodey's face softened, as if he could actually read Tony's mind - and maybe he could. Near fifteen years of friendship allowed for that. "And maybe one of them will become Mrs. Stark. You don't have to be a loner forever, despite all of this." He picked up his helmet for emphasis.
"I'm definitely not a loner right now, though I would like to be that way." He took the helmet from him. "Now shoo. I have work to do and the military will send the dogs after you soon enough."
His friend backed away, hands up in surrender. "I'm going, I'm going. Just promise me you'll think about it? I don't know how many more times I can excuse you and Ironman to the military."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go." He grabbed his wrench again, going back to his project. "Call me when you don't want to talk about this."
"Try not to blow anything up until I call you."
"I swear, I will throw this wrench at you-"
"I'm going, I'm going!" Rhodey laughed and left the lab. JARVIS turned his music back up, but it wasn't enough to drown out the nagging thoughts that maybe he was right.
'I can stir something up,' he decided, wiping his hands on his work jeans. 'That's what I'm good at.'
(Maybe a little too good.)
____
"You need to get married."
That was the last thing Virginia expected to be said when she was called into Nick Fury's office for a meeting. She let the door shut behind her, locking it for emphasis. "Sir, I don't think I understand. If this is for a mission-"
"It is for a mission, just not your typical one." He guestured to the chair across from him. She sat, hands folded in her lap and shoulders loose. Everything about this sounded wrong. "HYDRA has been crawling around, trying to regroup since you and Agent Romanoff extracted their base data. The concern is that you or her could be traced. You need a disguise."
"Undercover work?"
"Not exactly." Again, the cryptic reply set her on edge. She didn't show it, only raising a brow. "You need a new image. Virginia Potts cannot be connected back to being a SHIELD agent. You need to throw off your scent."
It began to make a little more sense. "And the solution is to get married? To who?"
"That will be for you to figure out. I've got too many agents occupied for you to play house with them. It would be better for you to marry someone outside of SHIELD as it is. Someone who doesn't know anything and will not know. You'll need to do it as soon as possible. Within a few days, preferably."
"Sir, that's near impossible-"
"The word is 'near,' Agent Potts. I believe you'll be able to figure it out. All you need is the image. Not a real relationship."
That made it more complicated. Who would marry a random woman within a week without an ulterior motive? She couldn't see it turning out well, but she wouldn't be who she was if she didn't try. "And Agent Romanoff? What will she be doing?"
"Agent Romanoff will be applying for the recent position of Tony Stark's personal assistant. He may be doing better since his stint in Afghanistan, but that man is unpredictable on a good day. He needs eyes on him." He shuffled some papers and signed the bottom of one. "As for you, I expect a copy of the marriage certificate on my desk by Monday. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you're dismissed."
She got up, the wheels in her mind turning. A marriage. In a way, it would be an actual marriage. A cover her partner wouldn't know about. It would be easier if it was arranged with another agent.
How was she supposed to do this?
"And Agent Potts," Fury called, getting her to look back over her shoulder, "good luck, and congratulations in advance."
She didn't dignify that with a response, shutting the door behind her. He was right, in a way. That was the frustrating thing. He was right.
Virginia took a breath, moving down the hall toward her quarters, passing agents on the way who gave her a wide berth. She was Agent Virginia Potts. There wasn't a challenge she couldn't conquer, a mission she couldn't complete, or a target she couldn't take out.
In this case, the target was a husband, and taking out would mean a date instead of death.
(Somehow, that made it worse.)