CLOCKWORK HEART

ONE

CATALYST

Tony Stark was only out to enjoy the night. The stars were bright above his head as he flew beneath them. He blocked out Jarvis as the AI prattled in his ear about the new navigation system in his usual pompous accent. All Tony wanted to do was fly, to revel in the feeling of sailing so high above the earth. He wondered if he should switch the accent for a new flavour, French maybe, or even Southern for something different. He laughed to himself at the thoughts.

'I trust that you're fascinated by these facts, Sir.'

Oh, was that exasperation in Jarvis's tone?

'Absolutely Jarvis, completely and positively captivated. Now, let's focus on the movement on the docks.'

'Of course, Sir.'

Yes, definitely exasperation.

He flew lower to circle quietly overhead, just above the cloud line. He focused on the movement, watching as the men faced each other. There were two sides: all of the men were standing with their arms crossed in a stand off as the two leaders talked. Behind one group he saw numerous crates, the usual shipping markings stamped and painted all over, but he guessed that they weren't exchanging imported stuffed toys.

'What do you think Jarvis? Should we take a closer look?'

Before his companion could answer he dropped carefully to the ground, just out of sight in an alley between two old warehouses. He could hear their voices even from the alleyway, their conversation amplified in the suit until it filled his ears as if he were standing in the thick of it. He peeked around the corner, still hidden in shadows. He needed to see who was talking, to match voices to faces.

'The money, Davis,' the leader to the left said, his jaw set, his dark eyes hardened with frustration, 'where is it?'

'Coming,' Davis said, a smirk on his thin lips, 'as soon as you show me the product, I show you the cash. Now, give me a look Gregor, so we can wrap up this transaction already.'

Gregor pursed his lips before he turned to walk to the first crate. As he took a pry bar from one of his cronies Tony scanned the faces of the groups, seeing only hardened expressions and thick muscles. Jarvis documented each and every face easily: most of the men were bald or wearing beanies, except for one. He stood on the buying side, right at the back with a hood over his head. His was the only face that was concealed.

Tony looked for visible weapons. Some had their guns tucked into the backs of their pants or strapped into slings. None of the men bothering to conceal their pieces except for the mysterious one with the hood, though Tony assumed he would still be armed. Wearing a baggy jumper and track pants it was likely that he had a gun or a knife concealed somewhere out of sight.

The wood of the crate cracked under the force of the pry bar and the side fell open. Tony watched as a few poorly secured semi-automatics slid out, toppling onto the concrete.

Definitely not imported stuffed toys.

The worst part was that he recognised each and every piece, knew all of their names and models. He knew that they should have only been available to the United States military, yet they had fallen into the hands of thugs. He had seen it too many times, had dealt with it too many times, and he knew that as long as he lived he would fight to stop his weapons falling into the wrong hands.

Tony stepped forward. It was time to intervene and stop the deal. Yes, there were fourteen men in total when he combined the two groups, but it would be a walk in the park to take out their weapons, and he was in the mood for a brawl. He was Iron Man and in his suit he felt invincible; no one could hurt him.

Well, not easily.

'Wait, Sir.'

Tony rolled his eyes but paused in the shadows. The AI could have seriously poor timing.

'What now Jarvis?'

'The hooded man is going for something in his jacket pockets.'

'And I'm stopping because?'

'Well, I don't think it's a gun.'

Tony watched as the man pulled his hands from the pockets, a metallic flash dancing from the tips of his fingers before he reached for the men in front of him, a cry escaping their lips when he placed his hands on their shoulders. They shot forward, crashing into the other men, causing the mob to fall like dominos, a tactic that was as effective as it was amusing.

The group that had been unloading the weapons from the crate turned, drawn by the cries of the other men. Gregor swore as he pulled a weapon from the back of his jeans. The other's copied his action, all drawing heavy pistols from wherever they had them stashed. Tony got ready to step forward and intervene, but a burst of white light shot from the hooded man's fingertips like a shockwave, their weapons flying from their grasps before they exploded above their heads.

The dust rained down, white hot metal scalding the men as they shielded their faces, but they were not defeated.

Yet.

The men who had avoided the worst of the shrapnel lunged forward with fists at the ready. The hooded man easily ducked under their heavy swings and avoided their attacks, tossing them like they were ragdolls despite seeming so much smaller than his opponents.

Tony leant against the warehouse wall, watching, wondering how the hooded man – maybe even just a boy with such a small stature – could fight so easily. How could he be so small yet so strong?

How was he using the metallic fingertips?

Soon, all but Davis and Gregor were writhing on the ground in pain, the rest fortunate enough to be unconscious after the skirmish. The two stood on either side of the hooded man, sweat tracking down their temples as they looked around at the destruction he had wrought. Their cronies would be no help to them now.

'Who the fuck are you?' Gregor asked, his jaw no longer set, his eyes no longer hard or intimidating.

The hooded man stood silently between them, a foreboding air drifting over the dock. He reached slowly for his jacket, unzipping it, the air becoming tense at the subtle movements. Tony's, Davis's, and Gregor's eyes widened as the jacket was dropped to the ground, revealing a metallic mask and a black leather jacket moulded to a slim waist and shapely curves. A gulp worked Tony's throat as they reached for the loose track pants, the material disintegrating in a rush of fire ignited by sparks from the metallic fingertips. As the light and smoke faded, slim and shapely legs bound in leather were revealed.

'Jarvis,' he said, having to clear his throat as he watched sparks dance between the metal fingertips, 'that's… that's not a man.'

'Indeed, Sir.'

Tony stepped forward as the two brutes stared. He walked with sure steps towards the three as they faced off. He was not quiet or careful with the footsteps that echoed off the concrete. All three looked his way, the thugs' eyes shooting wide when they saw him. One even stumbled backwards, glancing to the other as if to say 'take him, leave me' as Tony advanced.

'It must be pretty embarrassing to have your asses kicked by a girl,' he said, voice distorted as it sounded through his suit. He stopped a few metres away, kicking one of the unconscious men aside nonchalantly, only gentle enough to leave him with no broken bones. 'Want to regain some of your dignity and have your asses kicked by me? You might even make the news.'

'Iron Man,' Davis muttered, eyes darting as he looked for an escape, taking a step back.

Tony brought his hand up to display the repulsor, a high-pitched sound filling the air as he charged it with power, ready to send a blast at Davis.

'Please man,' Davis said putting his hands up, 'just take me to the cops. I'll go quiet, just don't shoot me with that thing.'

Beneath the mask of his suit he smirked, shrugging as he said, 'it's just easier to carry criminals when they're unconscious. They flail less.'

The woman dropped suddenly, sweeping their feet out from under them, Davis and Gregor hitting the concrete with a solid thud and a cry before she stood up again. Tony could feel her stare scalding him through the suit even though her eyes were barely visible beneath the moulded metal of her mask.

'I'm sorry, I'm not so used to a woman of so few words,' he said, 'but if you don't want to talk, maybe you could just toss me on my back like you did those men? You have to buy me a drink first though.'

She tilted her head, the metal on her fingertips singing as she rubbed them together, sparks flying with the slow circular motion. She remained silent, watching every minute move he made with a cold calculation that sent chills down his spine.

'So, you use electricity. Feel like explaining that to me?'

Still silence filled the docks but for the occasional moan from one of the downed men.

'You really don't talk much.'

He heard a laugh, the sound so very feminine and clear despite the mask that covered her face, moulded to her features, the shine of the metal obscuring them as it reflected the world surrounding her. She took a step back, the metal continuing to sing at her fingertips as she uttered one word: 'Duck.'

'Wh-?' Tony cried out as he was thrown backwards, the concrete cracking as he landed. He pushed up on his elbows just in time to see her step away from a beam of light as one of Gregor's cronies fired at her. Still she was rubbing her fingertips together but the singing of the metal was drowned out by the crackling of the bolts that flew from the weapon.

A new weapon of his design.

'Get out of the way!' he called, watching as she dropped beneath the beam, barely avoiding it as she advanced on the man. He took a chance, charging his repulsors to send a blast to knock the man backwards. Another of the cronies had caught onto the idea and as Tony charged another blast he knew that he would be too late. He shouted a warning but she seemed to ignore it, simply standing there as electricity shot from the weapon. She turned towards it, even opened her jacket as the white beam flowed into her. Sparks danced between her fingertips and on her chest, over every inch of her visible skin as her chest glowed. She absorbed every spark, taking it even as she reached beneath the sleeve of the jacket to her wrist.

The beam stopped and the man stared at her, frozen in place as his jaw dropped. Finally he stumbled back, the weapon clattering to the ground as words of prayer fell from his lips, a name following that definitely quirked Tony's interest.

The Alchemist.

She held her hand up, twirling something silver on the metal tip of her finger, the metal tip that had become a point. She flicked it into the air and caught it between her middle and fore fingers, a laugh sounding from beneath the hood as the throwing star glowed menacingly.

'Thanks for the recharge.'

She threw the star at the man's feet and a burst of light flashed before him, the crony falling back with the shockwave of the explosion. She glanced over her shoulder, catching Tony's gaze as another laugh sounded.

'Later, Stark.'

She turned, picking up the heavy jacket she had discarded earlier to pull it on, zipping it before she flicked the hood up. He watched as the metal on her fingertips rolled up her fingers, turning to rings as she walked away. Tony stepped forward, preparing to go after her, but Jarvis's voice sounded at his ear.

'Sir, I strongly suggest that you tie the men up and notify the police.'

Tony gritted his teeth, wanting to ignore Jarvis, to follow her and find out how she had survived the blast of electricity from the gun, one he had designed, one he knew could fry a person from twenty feet. Yes, he should have been trying to figure out how Gregor had gotten a hold of them in the first place, but all he could think of was whether there had been any truth in what that man had said.

Alchemist.

Tony had heard whisperings from the criminals he'd taken down recently about a vigilante, one they had called the Alchemist. He'd thought they were just rumours, little ghost stories that he always heard exchanged between the scum of the city to scare the newbie criminals. Maybe there was truth to the stories, ones that ranged from intriguing to ridiculous. Some he had heard spoke of the Alchemist's ability to morph metal. Others, of exploding stars just like the one she had thrown.

Funny… he had never considered that the Alchemist could be a woman: all the criminals had said it was a man. Though, he certainly wasn't surprised, not when most men, especially ones who prided themselves on being tough, would never admit that they had had their asses kicked by a girl as petit as her, whether she was using electricity to fight or not. What a funny world. Tony saw it as a privilege to fight beside the women he knew, whether literally in the case of the Black Widow, or simply in the world of business as he did with Pepper. He also knew that, for the most part, when he pitted himself against them, he would lose. He had no problem with that: he put it down to being assured of his masculinity, ass kicked or not.

'Okay Jarvis,' he finally said with a heavy sigh, 'make the call.'

She couldn't help the smile on her lips as she walked away from another successful bust, the air tingling with electricity as a storm rolled over the city. Still, as she smiled she was surprised at the flash of excitement that went through her at her first face to face encounter with Iron Man. Considering all she had been doing, she was surprised that she had never seen him in person before, but then, he usually did go after the bigger fish. She may have been in hiding, but she wasn't living in isolation. She had watched the news, watched as he brought a new era of peace into the world after his little announcement.

So, if he was so hell bent on making the world a better place, why was the city such a cesspool of crime?

Still, it was getting better. Slowly she was seeing fewer major weapons and drug deals, and cons, though she knew there was no way to phase out crime completely. She would keep fighting because if she could just make the city better, safer, maybe she could work her way up to taking out the men she truly wanted to destroy.

She turned down an alley, pretending not to hear the jets above her head even as she flexed her fingers, preparing to morph the rings on her fingers into tips as she heard him drop lower. She cracked her knuckles, unable to ignore the twitch of anger. It was one thing to encounter him by chance, but the fact that he had the balls to follow her tore at her nerves. She did not take well to being followed, not when she knew her old bosses still had people hunting her, not when in this very alley – before she had discovered her abilities – men had tried to take her dignity and her life.

She heard him touch down behind her in the rain, silent but for the light clunk of metal on the pavement. If she hadn't trained herself so carefully to notice any sound that seemed out of place she might not have heard it in the pelting rain that had started to fall after she'd left the docks, the storm churning above her. Despite his quiet steps, she knew that he was nearing. She could feel him, feel the power radiating from his suit.

She tried to block the memories, tried to ignore the tingling on her spine, but she was forced back into the past to the nights two years ago when she had learned just how dangerous the city could be, and just how powerful she could become. Images rocketed through her, fuelling her anger.

As soon as the first clap of thunder rolled overhead she turned, the rings rolling to coat her fingertips as she reached into her left sleeve and gripped one of the nails that was hooked in the leather. Electricity sparked and she threw the nail, knowing that Stark would be smirking in his suit, thinking that nothing could harm him as Iron Man.

How wrong he was.

Before the clap was silenced the explosion tore through the alley. She heard his cry of surprise through the suit as he was knocked backwards, only just retaining his balance as his feet dragged over the concrete. She reached into her sleeve again and light danced over her fingertips as she charged the metal and sent it to Stark. His arms shot up, crossing over his face to defend himself. His stance widened as the blow hit him and this time he wasn't forced back as far, his feet scraping only inches.

She watched him as he lowered his arms, twisting, seemingly surprised by the scratches on his suit. Beneath the mask she smirked.

'You know, I don't think your title as a ladies man suits you,' she said, dropping her hands to her sides, the metal on her fingers singing as she rubbed them in that circular motion that made sparks fly.

'Funny, I've always thought that it suited me pretty well,' he said, ignoring the scalding that Jarvis was giving him up one side and down the other for following her, his pompous accent grating on his nerves.

For the thousandth time, Tony wished he hadn't created Jarvis to be so intelligent.

Another laugh sounded, still so feminine and clear though she wore the mask. 'No, no, I'm thinking you need something new. Something that suits you better,' she said, letting the electricity in the air fill her as more lightning struck, the thunder louder as the storm neared. 'How about Stark the Stalker? I think it's perfect, considering the fact that you're stalking me.'

'I wasn't stalking you, I was just–'

His arms shot up just in time to defend himself from another nail as she sent it sailing straight at his eye, the flash nearly blinding him as thunder clapped above, covering the boom of the explosion.

'Why did you follow me?' she snarled, tossing another nail, advancing on him though he towered above her. She kept moving, throwing the nails as the storm above raged, the lightning fuelling her as electricity sparked through the air. He blocked the explosions, moving back with each hit until he brought his hand up to charge the repulsor.

'I don't want to,' he said, the white disc shining through the darkness of the alley, 'but I will if I have to.'

She paused, nails between her middle and forefingers, waiting for their spark.

'Tell me why you followed me and I'll stop throwing the nails,' she said, letting electricity dance over her skin, the crack of the volts sizzling in the air as more strikes from above thundered down. She absorbed the energy, feeling the storm rage closer. What she received from lightning was unlike the strength she could take form any other source, and she hoped that the storm would be directly above her soon, the strikes hitting the ground at her feet to fuel her with the purest form of electricity.

He did not drop his hand, the repulsor still charged and ready.

'I was curious,' he admitted with a contained shrug, 'can't I be curious?'

'Not in my world.'

She leapt forward, the nails shooting ahead of her. As he shielded himself from the explosion she ducked beneath his arm, grabbing his bicep to swing onto his back. He reached for her, struggling in the suit, but she held on tight as she pressed her hand against the neck, electricity dancing over her skin before a shockwave shot from her fingertips. She hoisted herself higher on his suit, using the leverage she gained by standing on his hips to flip backwards, distancing herself from him as he reached to his helmet.

She watched as sparks ignited from the neck, laughter bubbling from her chest.

'Having a little trouble, Stark?' she asked, 'Maybe a few technical difficulties?'

He turned to her, the golden mask of his suit no longer shielding his face from view. He quirked an eyebrow at her though she knew that he was angry: she could see the fires of irritation igniting in his gaze.

'Don't worry Stark,' she said, 'I just shorted your systems. They'll be back up and running in about fifteen minutes. So, you sit tight, and hopefully no one will come down this alley looking for trouble or an autograph, otherwise you'll have to explain how Iron Man was so easily put out of commission.'

'Why are you so angry at me for following you?'

She shrugged, and he wondered if she was smirking as she asked, 'who said anything about being angry? I just thought I should teach you to have some manners.'

'You can hide behind that mask, but I know who you are,' he said.

She stiffened. 'You can't.'

He quirked an eyebrow in challenge. 'I also know that you're not just angry, you're scared. Why's that, Alchemist?'

She felt her muscles ease, glad that he was just talking about the name she had been given after starting as a vigilante, though the fact that he could sense she was scared pissed her off. She had trained herself so that her body was unreadable, had her mask so that no one could see the expressions on her face, meaning they had to rely on her voice, a voice that never wavered.

'Cute, Stark. Playing the Prince-Charming-and-Damsel-in-Distress card might work with those tooth-pick bimbos you call girls, but it takes a lot to make me distressed,' she said, 'you're nothing to fret over, not when you're life currently hangs in my hands.'

He stared at her, the slightest smile on his lips. 'You talk tough, but even behind that mask I know you're just a scared kid trying to fight the world.'

She reached into her sleeve, this time finding one of her throwing stars. Her forefinger turned to a point, the metal singing as the star spun in a blur of silver and white as electricity charged through it. She threw it at Stark, watching as he brought his hands up to shield his face from another explosion, one that never came.

He cracked his eyes open, glancing to look at his arms and seeing nothing. He reached up, starting when his glove tapped against the metal of the star, his eyes wide as he asked, 'how the hell did you do that?'

Beneath the mask she smirked. 'As if I'd tell you all of my secrets,' she said, 'however, you might want to know that you have about fifteen minutes until that explodes, and if the nail was bad… well, I'm sure you can imagine the damage that star would do. So, as soon as your suit is back up and running, instead of stalking me, you might want to rush home and figure out a way to get rid of it.'

He quirked an eyebrow at her again, that wickedly challenging look in his eyes that said he was about to do something stupid, her thoughts proving correct as he reached for it.

'I wouldn't do that, Stark,' she said.

'Why's that? Are you worried I'll cut myself?'

Beneath the mask she smiled. 'No, but to get that star out you have to drag it from metal.' She rubbed her fingers in that circular motion, electricity in the air as the storm came directly overhead, a bolt of lightning hitting behind her, though she didn't seem to suffer any of the effects. She just looked to the sky, the metal tips of her fingers singing as she walked forward. She stopped only a foot away and he reached for her, but she blocked his arm with a shockwave, giving him a warning look before she reached up, running her fingers over his stubbled cheeks, the electricity tickling his skin as confusion danced in his gaze. 'One spark, Tony, and you can say goodbye to that handsome face of yours.'

'This makes it official,' he said, savouring the tingle that lingered on his cheek from her touch as her compliment played through his mind, 'no woman, even when mad at me, can resist my charms.'

She laughed, stepping back, holding her hand up so he could see the electricity that danced on her skin, a warning that he stay in place.

'And yet I've left you with a possible death sentence rather than a happy ending.'

She waltzed right past him, knowing that as long as electricity danced on her skin and his suit was malfunctioning, he would not dare follow. As soon as she was out of sight she picked up her pace, breaking into a run as she weaved through back alleys, the metal fingertips morphing to rings once again. She listened carefully, straining to pick up the sounds of his flight if he tried to follow her, but only the usual sounds of the city met her ears.

She reached her apartment, the same one that had been her home for the last two years since the untimely beginning of her new life. She stepped inside, locking the door behind her before she went to her room, taking off the hooded jacket before she removed her mask to place it on the bedside table. She traced the formed metal, following the contours before she went to the bathroom, looking forward to a long hot shower before bed.

Even if she wasn't tired, even if the storm that raged over her apartment was still filling her with energy, she knew that sleep would help her heart absorb the electricity better. She would be stronger tomorrow, and after work she would return to the streets, hoping to edge closer to the men who had destroyed her, hoping that Tony Stark would forget her.

His suit had been fine just as she had said, Jarvis once again prattling in his ear. Well, more accurately scalding him. He had quickly returned home, trying to ignore Jarvis's voice when the AI became frantic. Tony had explained the predicament of the throwing star, the worried tone quite a feat for the artificial intelligence that was so prone to a snooty monotone.

He felt sweat break on his brow as he carefully extracted the throwing star, cringing every time metal squealed. As he pulled the shining metal from his suit he couldn't help but wonder how she had managed to embed the star in his armour in the first place, considering that he had been hit by explosions that had barely left a mark. Still, a thought for later he decided as the star finally cleared. He rushed to the nearest window, hurling it out into the abyss of the night. For a moment, as he watched it flash in the moonlight, he thought she had been bluffing, but as the star began to fall to the sea it exploded in a great flash of light, Tony nearly falling backwards at the shock.

As his suit was removed he continued to ignore Jarvis, unable to drag his thoughts from the mysterious girl. She had laughed, yes, but he knew there was something off about it, something strained. She hid it well but he still knew that she was scared, just not of him, even if she had come through on her threat with the star. As Jarvis pointed out so kindly, she had also clearly demonstrated her lack of fear by jumping on his back.

So what was she scared of?

Tony was a curious man. He always had been, but this was almost painful. He sat in a chair, a few computer screens before him displaying the news articles and rumblings of late that featured her, none of them showing pictures.

The Alchemist.

'She's going to drive me insane, Jarvis,' Tony admitted as he leant forward and scratched at his bearded chin.

'Must be the mask, Sir,' Jarvis said, sounding bored of the conversation. He was particularly sassy tonight. He kicked his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his chair.

'She took a hit of electricity from a weapon that has enough power in it to fry anyone or anything in its path and stood there, opening her arms to it like she enjoyed it,' he said, though he knew that only Jarvis and Butterfingers would pay any attention, 'then, in that alley when lightning was all around, she seemed to absorb it. Anyone else would have been thrown by that strike on the concrete or at the very least they would have been jolted by it.

Jarvis didn't respond this time as Tony stared at the screens, more and more articles scrolling over them. He grabbed one, enlarging it to read the descriptions that witnesses had provided, all varied greatly not only in appearance but also in abilities. With so much confusion could he really be so sure of her identity when she was just using electricity, and what might have been some morphing of metal? He could not be sure.

Either way, the girl was a puzzle, one that he desperately wanted to solve.

Next update: Wednesday the 26th of August.