I am....Ironman

Chapter Eighteen-Age of Ultron

Bruce was sitting in a cafe shop downtown, glasses perched on his nose as he read from his tablet.

 The coffee shop owners were kind enough to place their 'closed' sign on their glass door so that there wouldn't be an inflow of traffic. 

Bruce also suspected that they didn't want anything to stress him out excessively, so the less people inside the building the better.

 He finished his scroll through on an article written on alumni of MIT, and there was a brief mention of Tony Stark.

 Stark hasn't been heard from in over six years, many believing he went mad and died. 

It caused Bruce to be curious, and he perused the internet, looking for any hard facts on Tony.

 He remembered from MIT that Tony was a very lively person, always doing something or tinkering with his hands.

 Very extroverted in an extravagant way.

 He found an article that tried to piece together what may have happened to Stark, going through a timeline before his drastic kidnapping and shocking statement on live television on shutting down the weapons department. 

There was a picture, about a week before the demo in Afghanistan of Tony at a gala. 

He was dressed sharply as usual, in a black suit, red dress shirt and dark red sunglasses. There was a caption in the photo, saying along the lines that he was very bit of 'The Merchant of Death'-

But in the side margins of the article, it notes that Stark did not drink a drop of alcohol in public, and he didn't speak with anyone around him.

 The problem with this statement was the fact that everyone knew you could not get Tony Stark to shut up about anything. 

When it came to women, technology, being a genius or anything involving him he was a chatterbox.

As Bruce continued with the article, his brows furrowing-he felt the atmosphere around him change. 

He glanced up to see if it was the shop owners seeing if he was still there...but it wasn't them.

 A man was leaning against the dark oak countertop with the register atop it, twenty feet away.

 The man was well built, fine toned muscles on his arms, chest and legs, wearing a 'Black Sabbath' rock band shirt that had seen better days, a muted blue protruding from his chest, and a metal mask on his head.

"Ironman...." Bruce said, an unasked question in his tone.

Ironman walked over to him and flipped the chair opposite him and sat down with the back of the chair to his chest. "Hey there Bruce".

There was a foreign familiarity that Bruce wasn't expecting, he set the tablet down and leaned back in his chair.

 "What do you want? Cuz honestly there could have been a better spot to try and attack other than here".

"I'm not going to attack you, Jesus-"

"Well why else would you be here? And don't try and convince me your here to grab coffee cuz that's the worse bullshit answer you could give."

"I came here to talk with you, I'm sure you've gotten a report of late of a hydra base with Loki's scepter."

Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, "And how, pray tell, would you know about that?"

 He in fact, had no idea what Ironman was talking about, but if he had managed to place bugs or buy out spies, he would have to tell Director Fury about this.

"I have my ways, but you cannot go on that mission" Ironman said firmly.

"Oh what, and you're going to stop me?"

"Of course not, I'm not your nanny", Ironman actually chuckled.

"There's someone in that base that can mess with you head, make you lose control, you have to trust me."

"Kinda don't" Bruce remarked dryly.

"What do I have to gain from telling you this?" Ironman challenged him.

"Better chance at defeating the avengers if the big gut isn't there?" Bruce leveled him a look.

"The big guy actually likes me", Ironman rested his forearms on the back of the chair, an evident smirk in his tone, "Unlike most people".

"So, what, you're going to black mail me into not going to a hydra base? What's the catch in all this, what's in it for you?"

"Nothing at all," Ironman then stood up, "just see this as a concerned friend trying to help".

"Were not friends, I don't know you, you don't know me...do me a favor and get that through your shell-like skull."

Ironman shook his head and a chuckle resounded in the space; he gave Bruce a two fingered salute.

"See ya around Brucie."

The man left through the back and Bruce felt like he could breathe again, he covered his face with his hands, his elbows resting on the table.

The article he was reading going unfinished as he shut the tablet off and walked out of the cafe, trying to figure out the angle that Ironman must be working, and what he would truly benefit from his absence on this supposed mission he's heard nothing about.