Monster

The next morning, I had to call Marion for a ride to work. I'd been accidentally calling her both Morgan, Marion, and Megan, but she never bothered to correct me. I was starting to feel guilty for always getting it wrong, but I felt too bad to ask now. When I stepped outside to wait for my ride, a car was already parked in the driveway—a shiny black thing with an obnoxiously large red bow on the roof.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, walking over to it. I ripped the tag off the bow. I didn't need to read it to know exactly where it had come from and why it had a big ugly bow on top. I only knew one person who could deliver a brand-new car overnight.

"Temporary," the tag said. "Your sister says it's temporary. It's temporary. Just put that on the card. Love Stark or something." Since it was printed, Jarvis was probably responsible for making the tag, and Tony either hadn't bothered to double-check, or he thought it was funny. I groaned anyway and yanked the entire bow off the roof before any of the neighbors could see it. Then I dragged it back into the house to call Tony and let Marion know I wouldn't need a ride after all.

"Yep?" Tony said, answering. Because a simple "hello" wasn't cool enough for him, apparently.

"The car in my driveway. Yours or Hydra's?"

"That would be mine. It has a better computer than your—well, your computer. No bombs. Access to Jarvis."

"And it's temporary? You didn't make that clear enough on the card."

"Just a loan. Unless you don't want it to be. Your sister insisted that I call it a loan and reminded me that it's wrong to buy cars for your girlfriend's sister."

"It is. You're a big child in a shiny suit, Tony," I said, heading back outside. "I mean that with love, of course."

"Good. Because that's how I took it. But I should remind you that you're the one with people blowing up your cars."

"You know what? You were on their list first, okay? And you have no room to talk because someone is trying to kill you every other weekend."

"That's fair."

"Where are the goddamn keys? I have to get to work."

"Fingerprint."

"You have my fingerprint? Are you serious? This is some grade-A stalker behavior, Tony. Should I be worried?"

"Someone forgot to eat her Wheaties this morning." I yanked the car door open and slid into the soft leather bucket of a seat. The finger pad definitely looked like a scanner.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I've had a rough couple of days. A simple rent-a-car would have covered at least three Christmas gifts."

"I have access to your fingerprint because you're a former SHIELD agent. And I gave you the car because I don't know if you're aware of this. But you've been personally targeted by a terrorist organization. And the car scans for bombs." I shut the door and pulled the seat forward.

"Well, thank you, Tony. I really do appreciate it. And I'll give the car back when I can afford a new one. Or when I can make payments."

"The only way you'd be able to afford that car is if you came to work for me. Consider it a business perk."

I pressed my head against the steering wheel. It was so tempting. If it weren't for Bucky, I probably would have taken it and packed my bags right then and there. But I couldn't leave him hanging. I had to know he was okay before I accepted a job in one of the most secure buildings in the world. A building he would never be able to get into.

"I can't—Not right now."

"I know. But the job is yours when you want it."

"Thanks, Tony. And tell Clara I said hi."

"Will do. Have a good day, and try not to piss off any murderous Hydra agents."

"Same goes for you." He snickered and ended the call without saying goodbye. I pressed my finger to the scanner pad, and the engine hummed to life, purring like a kitten.

"Whoa," I said out loud. The screen on the dash lit up with the engine. A little greeting scrolled across, telling me to have a good morning. Signed by Jarvis. "Uh—Jarvis?" I asked, feeling like a moron for talking to a car.

"Yes, Miss Hayes?" the disembodied voice responded. I almost jumped even though I'd addressed him first.

"So I can just—talk to you whenever I want?"

"I don't know if I'd make a good conversationalist, but I'm always here if you need me."

"Cheeky robot."

"I'm not a robot, Miss Hayes."

"Right. Sorry."

"It's quite alright. Would you like me to find you a radio station? You are now connected to satellite radio."

"That sounds—like fun. Go right ahead and put something on."

"Right away, Miss Hayes."

It was going to take forever to get used to that.