...At 6:12 PM, at sunset, a magnificent heart-shaped cloud appeared over the Lower East Side of New York City..."
"...This rare natural phenomenon had couples making wishes..."
"...Experts explained it as rising air currents colliding with heat, creating intense atmospheric friction and the release of condensed water molecules..."
Crackle—
Ivan Vanko, sitting in his workshop, wasn't the least bit interested in the news. His thumb tapped the remote until the channel shifted to the one he wanted.
"...For most countries, reverse-engineering this technology would take five to ten years. For Hammer Industries, at least twenty..."
"...But I gave you a gift. I alone can maintain world peace... What more do you want from me? I tried to cooperate with those clowns..."
"...Go to hell... Stark..."
"...The meeting is adjourned. That's all for today..."
"...Listen, I'm working for the people. I'm honored to serve the United States..."
(Switch—)
"I am Iron Man."
CRACK!
A hot, blue-white electric whip lashed across the room. The television sparked violently before splitting in half.
...
"Hello?"
Jack Kadere pushed back a few strands of messy hair that had fallen into his face and answered the phone.
"Ms. Potts? Do you need something from me?"
On the other end, Pepper Potts hesitated before replying softly, "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Kadere. It's just... you're such a thoughtful and insightful person. I've run into some issues, and I hoped to hear your perspective. But if you're busy, I won't trouble you."
Jack leaned back lazily and smirked. "No trouble. Go ahead. I'm free right now, so let's chat. Take your time—I'm not in a hurry."
Pepper let out a small sigh of relief and began.
"You know Tony. He always does things that catch people off guard..."
Since she knew Tony and Jack had been on good terms lately, she didn't hold back, her tone more casual—like gossip between friends.
"...He donated his entire modern art collection... to the Boy Scouts of America."
Her voice wavered. "Except for your painting of Iron Man. He actually climbed up onto the desk in front of me and hung it right there. I don't know what's going through his head. I'm not saying your work isn't beautiful, Mr. Kadere, but it was just so... sudden."
Jack chuckled lightly. "It's fine, Ms. Potts. But I assume that's not all?"
Her voice grew more uncertain.
"The real reason I called is... what Tony told me afterward. He wants me to be the new CEO of Stark Industries. His successor. I... I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Jack narrowed his eyes. Inside, he instantly pieced it together—Stark's worsening palladium poisoning. The man was putting his affairs in order.
But he kept the thought to himself.
Tony's burdens were his to carry.
Jack simply offered her steady encouragement.
"Pepper, don't second-guess yourself. Just do your best—that's more than enough. Tony trusts you. More than that... I think he sees you as family."
"Family?" she whispered, almost to herself.
The word lingered in her mind. After a long pause, Pepper chuckled softly.
"Thank you, Jack."
"You're welcome. Good night, Ms. Potts. And remember—family."
The call ended.
...
"Mmm..."
A faint murmur drifted beside him.
Jack turned, glancing at his little sister Jessica, who was curled up in peaceful sleep. A satisfied smile rested on her lips as one bare shoulder peeked out from under the blanket.
He smiled warmly, tugging the blanket up to cover her.
But then—
[Huh?]
[Who's holding whom?]
On the other side, Gwen and Felicia were tangled together in their sleep, their intertwined legs clamped tightly onto the corner of the blanket.
Jack sighed. "...Forget it. You girls won't catch a cold anyway."
He let it be.
The hour was late, and another strange, wonderful day had finally drawn to a close. Jack leaned back, shut his eyes, and drifted into rest.
...
Some time later.
Malibu, California. Stark's seaside villa.
Tony was sparring with Happy Hogan in the training ring. As Happy threw clumsy jabs, Tony shot a glance at Jack, who was sitting nearby, watching the session.
"I forgot to ask you last time, Jack," Tony grunted while dodging a punch. "How the hell did you ride that motorcycle all the way from New York to here? What kind of speed are we talking?"
Jack smirked. "Call it magic."
"Uh-huh. Translation: you're not telling me."
Tony rolled his eyes. Back then, he wasn't exactly open to the idea of "magic." Stephen Strange hadn't even had his accident yet.
Jack reached over to the drink rack and grabbed a bottle filled with suspicious green liquid. He raised an eyebrow. "What's this? Looks toxic."
"My chlorophyll juice," Tony answered quickly. "Want a taste? It's amazing."
Jack gave him a deadpan look before tossing the bottle aside. "Tony, you promised not to trick me again."
"Sorry! Force of habit."
"Hey, heads up—"
Tony suddenly ducked Happy's punch, countering with a sharp elbow strike.
BANG!
"Ow!" Happy stumbled back, clutching his face. "What the hell was that move?"
Tony bounced around in quick steps, grinning smugly. "Mixed martial arts! Brand new—it just blew up three weeks ago."
"That's dirty boxing, boss," Happy muttered dryly. "It's been around forever."
Tony waved him off. "Hey, don't ruin my moment." He jabbed a thumb toward Jack. "Besides, I learned it from him. 'Don't be constrained by rules,' 'Your opponent won't follow ring etiquette'... sound familiar?"
Jack raised his mug slightly and gave him a thumbs-up. "Not bad, Tony. You actually pick things up pretty fast."
Happy rolled his eyes. "Great, two scoundrels congratulating each other. Fantastic."
"Come on, Happy, get up. Let's keep going." Tony bounced on his heels, eager to start another round.
...
Before they could, Pepper Potts entered, holding a neat stack of documents. "The notary is here, Tony. Come sign the papers. I promise this is the only time I'll ask you to transfer anything company-related." She glanced at Jack with a subtle wink, a quick gesture of gratitude for keeping Stark distracted long enough for her to prepare things.
Jack responded with a polite smile—though since he was in the middle of sipping his juice, it became more of a slight nod.
But Tony wasn't ready to quit. "Pepper, we're having a Happy time right now."
Happy raised an eyebrow at Pepper's wink and misread it completely, thinking she was trying to flirt with Jack. He leaned toward Tony. "Boss, you'd better be careful."
"What?"
Tony paused, his attention suddenly caught by someone else entering the room.
A striking woman with reddish-brown curls and a sharp gaze stepped in, holding a sleek black folder under her arm. She wore a crisp white blouse and tailored black trousers—professional yet alluring.
Natasha Romanoff.
Even before she spoke, her mere presence shifted the energy of the room. Her poise, confidence, and quiet strength were unmistakable. Stark's eyes locked onto her instantly.
Jack also stopped drinking, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. The infamous Black Widow—seeing her up close, he had to admit, the reputation was well-earned.
As Natasha's eyes briefly flicked to Jack, flashes of classified intel raced through her mind. She remembered the files S.H.I.E.L.D. and certain other agencies had compiled.
Jack Kadere.
Vice President of the Ghost Spider Club.
Non-biological brother of Jessica Jones, trusted friend of the Ghost Spider herself. Connected to Black Cat, Daisy Johnson, Cindy Moon (Silk), and even more. Most recently, there were whispers he had also crossed paths with the enigmatic Black Spider.
He wasn't just another "associate of superheroes." He was a key player—a stabilizing figure in a circle of chaotic, extraordinary people.
Natasha's gaze lingered a little longer. He's handsome, I'll give him that… no wonder he's surrounded by strong women. But sipping juice like that? Hm. He seems even more unreliable than Stark.
Happy, trying to break the silence, nudged Tony. "Hey, boss, remember lesson one: never take your eyes off the fight."
But Tony wasn't listening. He was too captivated.
"Fine, lesson two, then—ow!"
Tony delivered a sudden back kick, sending Happy stumbling into the corner. He followed it up with an aggressive flurry of strikes—bang, bang, bang—each move sharp, meant to impress the new arrival rather than truly win.
Good thing Happy was fully padded, otherwise he might've ended up in the hospital.
"Alright, that's enough," Jack called, ringing the bell like a referee.
Happy immediately pulled off his headgear, muttering, "I'm done," before slipping out of the ring as fast as possible.
"Jack," Tony called, wiping sweat from his brow.
"What now?" Jack asked, settling back in his seat. "You want me to spar with you again?"
Tony shook his head. "Nope. Don't want to embarrass myself. Just… hand me my chlorophyll juice, would you?"
Jack smirked. With a flick of his wrist, the mug of green liquid floated effortlessly across the room and landed perfectly in Tony's hand.
Natasha's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. To the untrained, it might have seemed like a parlor trick. But her instincts told her otherwise. That wasn't luck. There was technique there—control, strength, and subtle precision.
"Please sign your initials," Natasha said smoothly, handing the folder to Pepper while continuing to keep Jack in her peripheral vision.
Tony gulped down the juice, wiped his mouth, and pointed at her. "And you are?"
"Natasha Romanoff." Her voice was calm, confident.
"Romanoff, huh? Step into the ring."
Pepper immediately frowned. "Tony, don't. You can't be serious."
"The boss makes the rules," Tony said smugly. "And I'm the boss."
Pepper sighed and shot Jack a pleading look. "This is the 'family' you promised me?"
Jack shrugged. "Don't look at me. I think this is a terrible idea too."
But Natasha didn't hesitate. She slid the folder onto a nearby table, bent slightly, and stepped gracefully into the ring. She clearly didn't think much of Tony's newly-learned techniques.
For someone who'd been an operative since her teens, handling an overconfident billionaire wasn't exactly a challenge.
"I think this is going to be fun," Natasha said coolly.
Tony grinned, then gestured toward Jack again. "Come on, Jack, step up. Teach her a few moves first."
Jack blinked. "Me?"
His eyes drifted toward Natasha, and for a split second, his thoughts betrayed him.
Would I really just jump into a spar with a woman?
Then he smirked faintly to himself.
Well… if she's a beautiful young lady, I guess I can 'reluctantly' spar a few moves—for fun.
With that, Jack rose from his seat and began walking slowly toward the ring.
Once Jack stood across from her, Natasha regarded him with that faint, knowing half-smile of hers. Her arched brows held both subtle charm and quiet arrogance—an aura of someone entirely confident in their skin.
Jack, never one to shrink back, returned the energy with his own faint smile. Arms crossed, eyes shamelessly trailing over her face and figure, he projected the kind of brazen confidence that dared her to blink first.
Truth be told, most of the women Jack spent his time with—Gwen Stacy, or even Jessica Jones—were closer to his age, bright and fiery in their own ways.
But Natasha… Natasha was different. An older, seasoned woman. A dangerous, elegant beauty.
Jack couldn't help but feel curious. What kind of flavor did a woman like Black Widow bring into a fight?
…
For several long seconds, silence filled the air between them. Neither spoke, both unwilling to give up that intangible advantage of aura and presence.
Down below, Tony Stark was already fidgeting impatiently.
What the hell was this? He had asked Jack to give Natasha a sparring session, not to engage in a staring contest that looked suspiciously like foreplay.
"Cough, cough!" Tony cleared his throat loudly, waving a hand. "Kadere, focus. You can start anytime. And don't worry about the cost—I'll cover Miss Romanoff's tuition."
Jack smirked and gave a short whistle. "Then let's begin, Miss Natasha. I take it you've studied a little combat before?"
Natasha's lips curved ever so slightly, almost as if suppressing a laugh. "Yes~"
She didn't need to say more. She was confident—too confident. Jack could see it in the way she stood, the way she watched him.
There was something measured in her posture, something calculated. She was ready.
…
Tsk~ so few words.] [She's trying to bait me into taking the lead… passive on the surface, but really in control.] [Classic pro move. A master of psychological combat.]
Jack wasn't even focused on the physical sparring yet. What interested him was the other kind of competition—the subtle push-and-pull between man and woman.
Jessica Jones, Gwen, Felicia—they were sweet, inexperienced, sometimes playful, but never skilled in this sort of dangerous banter. With them, Jack could say anything and they'd just smile and go along. Easy, simple, hassle-free.
Natasha, however, was a different battlefield altogether.
And Jack found himself enjoying it.
Natasha, seeing Jack remain calm and oddly silent, frowned slightly in her mind.
[Strange. Why does he seem so… dense? Is he used to girls throwing themselves at him first?]
Left with no choice, she tilted her head and spoke. "How about we spar now, hm?"
Jack chuckled. "No problem." He slid into a relaxed stance. "Anything goes. Stop before injury."
Natasha blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Traditional martial arts? What kind of style was this guy talking about? In all her years of fighting, she had never heard of such a phrase thrown out so casually.
"Miss Romanoff," Jack called lightly, "don't space out on me."
Then, without warning, his palm sliced through the air. The strike wasn't aimed at her body—just a hair's breadth past her cheek—but the wind pressure alone whipped strands of her red hair into the air.
The sharp whistle of displaced air rattled her senses. Natasha's pupils shrank slightly, surprise flashing across her eyes.
That wasn't a fluke. He had controlled his strike to the millimeter. If he had actually intended to land it… her nose would be broken by now.
"Whoa, whoa, Kadere!" Tony shouted from the sidelines. His voice was half alarmed, half annoyed. "Careful with the merchandise, will you? Don't go wrecking her pretty face."
He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. Guy doesn't even know how to cherish beautiful women, yet somehow, every knockout in New York wants a piece of him…"
***********
Before anyone questions me about Natasha introducing herself with her true name, it's how the author wrote it and I just let it be because it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things.
Besides, this is more of a slice-of-life, don't overthink it!