Los Angeles. Inglewood, California.
Randy's Donuts.
In the center of the giant donut atop the store, the genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist Tony Stark could be seen eating donuts with an expression suggesting they were among the finest things he had ever tasted, entirely oblivious to everything around him.
His moment of peace ended when he heard someone call out.
"Sir! I have to ask you to get off the donut, sir!" Fury said before entering the restaurant.
He saw the girl working at the counter and ordered a double espresso.
She looked a little intimidated and went to prepare it. Fury turned his head and saw his current headache enter the store and walk toward a table.
"That will be two fifteen, sir," the cashier said, still slightly intimidated, as the man handed her the money.
"Keep the change."
"Thank you, sir."
Fury walked over to Tony and sat down with his coffee. For a few brief seconds, a tense silence hung between them, finally broken by the most dramatic man in the room.
"I already told you I do not want to join your top-secret gang," Tony said, annoyed and exhausted from the previous fight and his lack of sleep.
"Hahahaha. No, no, no. I just remembered that you can do everything yourself," Fury said with a laugh as genuine as a counterfeit bill before taking a sip of his coffee. "How is that working out for you?"
"It is...."
He raised his glass, intending to squeeze it, but stopped himself.
"Sorry, I do not mean to be rude, but am I seeing you with the eye patch or the eye? Honestly, I have a terrible hangover, and I do not know if you are real or...."
"I am very, very real."
"Okay, okay."
"I am the most real person you will ever meet in your entire life."
"What bad luck. Where is the waitress? I want to order something else."
He turned his head to look for her, and Fury took the opportunity to examine the marks on Tony's neck.
"That does not look good at all."
"I have been worse," Tony said. Then he heard footsteps behind him, which made him sigh.
"Hello, darling. I would like to ask-...."
He stopped when he realized the person standing there was not a waitress. Both men clearly saw the surprise on Tony's face.
"The perimeter is secure, but we should not stay here too long," Natasha said.
"HA!" Fury smiled mockingly at Stark's reaction. "You are so fired."
"You cannot make that decision."
"Tony, I would like you to meet Agent Romanoff," Fury began before completing the introduction. "Natasha Romanoff."
The three were so engrossed in their conversation that they never noticed the fourth person approaching them.
Even if they had been fully focused on their surroundings, they would never have heard him because of the sound-dampening shoes he was wearing.
In contrast, Natasha suddenly felt someone tap her shoulder.
For a few brief seconds, she felt extremely vulnerable because she had neither heard the footsteps nor sensed anyone entering her personal space, something she had trained herself to detect instinctively.
With that single action, it felt as though all of her training had counted for nothing.
Both the agent and the director were alarmed by the presence they had failed to detect despite their heightened awareness.
Acting on instinct, Natasha seized the person's wrist while simultaneously driving her elbow backward, only to be stopped. She felt the stranger seize her firmly and force her to her feet in one swift motion.
She snapped her head backward to strike him, but it accomplished nothing.
Before she even realized what had happened, only seconds later she found herself pinned on top of the table in a strange restraint.
One of the stranger's arms twisted her right arm into an uncomfortable position, rendering it immobile, while the hand of that same arm held her left wrist in a firm grip, ready to transition into another lock.
She immediately froze when she felt something sharp press lightly against her neck.
"Quiet, unless you want me to break both your arms, Agent Romanoff."
The hold was somewhat similar to the one Natasha herself had used on Hammer during the Expo.
Natasha remained perfectly still and, for the first time in a long while, felt genuinely furious at being subdued so effortlessly. She silently berated herself for letting her guard down.
From now on, she would remain vigilant at all times to ensure she never made the same mistake again.
It was only because of the stranger's restraint that she had not suffered permanent injury.
"Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, born December 3, 1984. Age twenty-six. Sagittarius," Spider-Man said.
Natasha tensed upon hearing her personal information.
"Nicholas Joseph Fury Jr., born July 4, 1950. Age sixty. Cancer."
"Wow. You look old," Tony commented after processing Fury's age. Then he looked at Natasha. "You are very young."
"Anthony Edward Stark, born May 29, 1975. Age thirty-five. Gemini."
Once Spider-Man finished speaking, both Fury and Tony looked at him, one with a frown and the other with a raised eyebrow.
"Spider-Man," Fury and Tony said simultaneously.
Upon hearing the name, Natasha realized that her future surveillance target was standing right in front of her.
Internally, she sighed, knowing Fury would now have to assign another agent to monitor him since she was fully committed to her current assignment.
Most likely Barton, Melinda, or Coulson would take over, as she doubted Fury would assign his best operative to simple surveillance.
Ignoring the other two men, Spider-Man focused his attention entirely on Stark, who felt a little uneasy at suddenly becoming the masked vigilante's sole focus.