Author Note: This story will feature characters from Marvel's Cinematic Universe and Harry Potter which are creations of Marvel Studios and J. K. Rowling respectively and I take now credit for any recognizable characters. I am posting this story, however that does not mean that I have abandoned my other story, The Law of Three, I will simply be working on this story on the side.

This is rated M for violence and suggestive content in the following chapters. (Consider yourself warned :), and I am saying now that I do NOT right sex scenes, if I did it would be terrible, so I don't.)

"Blah." = normal speech

'Blah.' = thoughts

*This* = scene change

Stark Attraction

Prologue

Africa

He sat in the local bar with his back to the wall, perfectly positioned between the front and back exits; there wasn't any risk of danger it had just become habit. The War had been brutal and after eleven years he still had the occasional nightmare. Of course traveling around the world afterward, and getting into some pretty sticky situations along the way, didn't help his overly cautious mind-set.

He still remembered the end of the War clearly; when everything was still in shambles after the loss of so many people that he knew and cared about; when he was depressed and asking himself if surviving was worth it. For months after the last battle the papers had stories about the authorities apprehending criminals and rebuilding the previously toppled government. His bank had demanded that he pay for damages which he argued had been sustained during wartime and therefore he could not be held accountable for, thankfully they came to an agreement and he was able to access his accounts again, which of course was when he removed every valuable object from his family vaults and invested most of his money in various companies. His bank manager had not been happy but did as he requested, after all he needed the money for what he had planned. He admitted to himself that he had come out of the War a changed man, so he intended to discover who he had become.

During the following year he used his spare time to go through all of the family heirlooms that had been collected over the generations which included manuscripts that he studied with a new found passion. At the end of that year, things had returned to something resembling normalcy and he graduated his last year of school in peace.

Later, when he announced that he was leaving to travel for a while; his friends were hesitant about him going, especially alone. He had brought up his plans to go on an extended trip to other countries for some "self discovery", during one of their yearly get-togethers. It took hours for him to argue that he really didn't want to stay, and he didn't have a job, girlfriend, or family that needed him there. He countered any argument they made by stating that; he wasn't interested in settling down because he had so much to see now that he didn't have a war looming over his head; he could still right and come back anytime he wanted; and finally he explained, that more than anything, he needed to go because he wasn't able to move on there. His friends reluctantly agreed that he should go if it was the best thing for him. It took a little time to say his goodbyes and collect the things he would need on his trip, but then he was off.

In a little less than ten years he had traveled to every continent, at least twice. He saw things that most people didn't even know existed and got into trouble more than a few times. The places he went filled him with awe and terror in equal measure. His sense of self-preservation led him to not only develop his current skills, but he also learned hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, and field medicine. He had some brutal teachers and met one particularly sadistic black-ops agent who decided his survival instinct was strong enough to be worthy of training, but he never complained because his extra training insured he was able to take care of himself during his travels. The trip was exactly what he had been looking for; not the adrenaline rush that came with life and death situations, but the freedom to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He had been intrigued by some of the more obscure knowledge that he had come across; and using his spare time to round out his academic education, he was able to get a Doctorate in Criminal Psychology, which was ironic considering his personal experience. He returned home often to see his friends throughout the years and was happy to see they had moved on with their lives, got married and had children; but he still wasn't ready to settle down, so each time he returned he eventually left again, no matter how many times his friends asked him to stay.

So there he was, in a no-name-bar somewhere in Africa drinking a refreshingly cold beer with a drown-eyed, dark skinned woman staring at him from across the room. In his first week there he had met the temptingly beautiful woman, who was the local Chief's daughter, but he had no interest in her and never returned any of her advances. Actually he hadn't been interested in anyone of either gender for a while, because as coincidence would have it, it was during his trip that he found out he was also attracted to men. Oh sure, he had seen plenty of beautiful men and women around the world who had been very interested in him, but he wasn't one for casual flings and too restless to take the time to build a proper relationship. When it came down to it, he just never found anyone who could catch his interest and make him want to stay. His heart was searching for the elusive 'one', sure he was a 27 year old virgin but he could wait, after all he had plenty of time.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing, and he smiled while pulling it out; the phone and service were expensive but had guaranteed that he could speak to anyone anywhere around the world, and he was happy that it worked.

"Hello," he said in his ever-present British accent as he answered the phone. "Africa…why would I go to Afghanistan...sure, I can help…alright, I'll take a plane and meet you at the airport when I land…okay, so I'll meet him at the airport…you do realize this means you owe me one…right, I'll be there as soon as possible."

Laying a few coins on the table, he stood and walked out without a backwards glance.

Afghanistan

Rhodey stood at the arrival gate waiting for the "specialist" the Brass had called in to help with the search for Tony. He ground his teeth, Tony had been missing for a week and a half and the destruction left in the wake of the attack did not bode well; Tony had more than likely been injured, but the question was, how bad?

James realized that he must have been distracted, because he suddenly realized that someone was standing in front of him. He looked up and met the green eyes of a young man with long brunette hair that had been pulled up into a messy bun. He recognized the face of the man he was supposed to meet.

Rhodey raised a brow when he noticed what the brunette was wearing. The man had on a pair of hiking boots, tactical khakis, a leather vest and a light green button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the look was topped off by what James swore was an Indiana Jones replica in the man's hand; he looked like he was going on Safari and if what Rhodey had heard was correct he had just come from Africa.

"You must be my contact," the man said. The man rolled his eyes when James gave him a surprised look, "Don't look so shocked Lieutenant Colonel, the uniform gave you away."

"You must be, Doctor Potter," the soldier said extending his hand, "I'm Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Call me Harry," the young man said accepting the handshake, "I understand that a man's life is in danger, Colonel. I just hope I can be of some use."