Tony came back from Afghanistan and covered up the horror and torture with a smile and a gold-titanium shell. Things like that never go away, and he never forgot what he saw there. But he keeps marching on, because lying down and being upset about it isn't the Stark way.

Enter Loki, fresh from a mission gone wrong, who's also got a body full of scars and a head full of tortured memories.

Tony needs a new bodyguard, and Loki's more than willing to fill the position as he gets his life back together. When they discover their common link in Afghanistan, well...

Warnings: Future smut, graphic depictions of violence and mentions of torture.

A/N: This is based off another !verse it's related to on AO3.

All you really need to know is that Loki's a (fairly) ordinary guy, Thor's an ordinary guy, and the Avengers got together without the battle in New York.

This borrows quite a bit from Earth!616 canon, but it's going to stay easily understood.

Also, the idea for this and a lot of the information can be credited to dear Akuma_River over on AO3, who's been a big help = D

This has five chapters on AO3 already so I'll post daily to catch up.

If we're still alive my regrets are few

Prologue

The Forehead of Security.

Tony missed him with a passion.

Especially right now, when Tony had simply just been at a goddamned party.

Nice party, until HYDRA had attacked. Now it was goddamned.

Oh, the other Avengers had been fine. They'd suited up, fought the forces of evil, and been lauded as heroes.

Tony had hidden with the other patrons in the kitchen, under a table that smelt like raw chicken.

"Aren't you Iron Man?" A man there had asked. "Shouldn't you be out there?"

"Not tonight," Tony had said grimly.

The man did not look happy.

Then the fight had moved to the kitchen, with someone in a bodysuit screaming "Hail HYDRA!" as people screamed and tried to stuff themselves through the emergency exit.

This was the fourth attack by HYDRA in the last two months. Today they were trying to break into the archives under City Hall where this event was being held.

I wish Happy was here, Tony thought as he utilised a spray bottle of cooking oil and a firelighter to fend the HYDRA agent off. I could have my goddamn suit. I'd be in less risk of being shot.

This opinion was reaffirmed as Hawkeye flipped into the room, took down two more agents and then started laughing his ass off at Tony crouching behind an overturned table with just a spray can and a plastic salad knife.

"Fuck off, Legolas," Tony snarled.

"Oh, come on, Tony! Your oil beats my bow any day!" Clint mocked.

"Hey, you assholes could've brought the suit with you!" Tony shouted back as he shuffled out from behind the table and made for the exit.

"Dude, you can bring your own stuff! Or at least make someone do it for you! What's the point of being a rich bastard if you can't have that?" Clint laughed as he shoved his way through two trash cans into a freezer. "Get your ass out of here!"

He had a fine point, Tony had to admit later. He didn't have Happy as a driver, so he'd been driving himself or getting taxis, and that meant he had no one to get him the Iron Man suit he kept in the trunk for emergencies. The whole bodyguard thing had been pretty cute, too, but he actually missed the whole having-Happy-around thing.

A sparring partner who couldn't kick his fucking ass every single time had been nice.

An explosion rocked the building behind him and a flying piece of glass slashed the sleeve of his favourite suit.

"You know what, fuck this," Tony snapped to himself, making a fleeing child look even more shocked than before. "I'm getting a fucking driver. Or a trained monkey or a really smart Labrador or even Clint if it comes down to it. Fucking fuck this!"

Tragically, the lamppost had nothing to offer him.

"You want a lift, snookums?" Clint grinned as he swept down on his sky-cycle. Tony angrily climbed on behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"I'm coming with you, but I'm not happy about it," Tony sulked as they soared off to the carpark so Tony could pick up his car.

-O.O-

The problem with getting a new security man or even a new driver was that Tony was Iron Man.

This meant that he was affiliated with the highest security in the world. Therefore his new bitch had to be equally high calibre.

You ever try to find a SHIELD-cleared, non-SHIELD-employed straight-up person to be your replacement Happy Hogan?

See, back when Tony had hired Happy - after Jarvis died (Jarvis the replacement father, not JARVIS the Very Intelligent System) - things had been a little more low-key. Yeah, he'd been Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, but so long as you stayed out of his workshop there were no secrets for you to steal, unless you were interested in the gossip of who went home with him.

Now, there were secret identities and covert operations and pieces of valuable technology everywhere, and someone who could be bought for a bottle of nice wine and a cheeseburger would not cut it.

"So, do you or do you not know a guy?" Tony said, after listening to Happy um and ahh.

"Sorry, Tony. I know a few guys in the business, but no one who'd pass a security check," Happy said.

"Of course, you could always come back," Tony shrugged.

"I miss you too, Tony, but I'm happier here. Pepper is nice to me."

"Aw, I wasn't? I'm hurt, Hap. Get back to me if you think of anyone," Tony said before disconnecting. Happy had a point. His girlfriend Pepper may not be, but she could always do with some security.

The best option he'd come across so far was getting a SHIELD agent out on secondment, and he didn't want to hand Fury the ability to spy on him on a silver platter.

But asking Happy had given him an idea.

-O.O-

"Clint! Natasha!" Tony shouted across the gym.

They both stopped their sparring after a moment and turned to face him, slightly out of breath and wearing tight gym clothes.
Great, now Tony was having inappropriate thoughts about how athletic they both were.

Shaking himself a little to concentrate, Tony said "Hey, I just wanted to ask a favour."

"What is it, Tony?" Natasha said impatiently.

"I'm looking for a new bodyguard, and I was wondering if either of you knew a guy. Or a girl. I can't get my hands on someone who passes SHIELD security checks," Tony said quickly. The wrath of Natasha was a worrying thing.

"There's Sitwell in External Affairs-" Clint began.

"No SHIELD agents. I already have enough of you riding my ass, I don't need Fury shoving in another one." Tony frowned.

"That...is a horrible mental image," Clint winced.

"Most of my contacts wouldn't be that enthusiastic, though there's always private security companies," Natasha said briskly. "It can be an issue finding a cleared, skilled security agent who's willing to lower themselves to bodyguarding someone like you,"

"Yeah, it's not a popular niche, as it turns out," Tony snorted. "Like me?"

"You're not exactly the ideal mark, Tony, so yeah, your work is cut out," Natasha said.

"What's wrong with me?" Tony said indignantly.

"The amount of stress you put your personnel through is legendary," Natasha said with her tiny little smile. "You know, seeing as you change your plans without warning, don't have a history of following orders and treat people around you like lesser beings."

"Psssh, I don't do that," Tony lied.

"Yeah, Shellhead. Most guys in this line like someone who does what they're told when they're told," Clint added. "And don't get blown up every five minutes."

"Jesus, I'm looking for a driver, not James Bond," Tony said exasperatedly.

"I'm pretty sure no one will be happy with just some ordinary, easily bought driver," Natasha said. "Did you ask Happy to come back?"

"He says he doesn't want to come back and I'm willing to assume neither of you want the job. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually stumped," Tony admitted. "I was seriously thinking about a private security company, but I thought I'd ask you first - you know all the names, after all, and who wants some boring old professional guard who hasn't done covert shit in Genovia or wherever?"

Natasha was clearly running through that brilliant archive that was her brain. "I've got two people who might be interested. A man and a woman. Any preference?"

"Depends. Is the woman hot?" Tony grinned.

"Both of them are," Natasha smirked. "First, there's Bethany Cabe - her and her partner run a security firm, but Ling's hired out - she's tough, smart and can definitely hold her own. She might be a bit miffed at being relegated to driving, but so long as she gets a chance to spread out her network, she'd be a short-term solution."

"Short-term?"

"She's a busy woman, Tony," Natasha said.

Clint frowned suspiciously. "Who's the other guy?"

Natasha leaned over and whispered it in his ear with a secretive smile.

"Oh hell to the fucking no!" Clint said. "He's such an ass!"

"I think he's amusing," Natasha replied.

"Of course you would," Clint said with a put-upon eye roll.

"And what is that implying?" Natasha said.

"Cut the theatrics, kids," Tony cut in. "Who is this guy? Anyone I've heard of?"

"His name's Loki. He's an MI6-trained mercenary; one of the best I know," Natasha said. "I heard over the grapevine - from Murdock - that he's looking for some quiet work for a while."

"Here's my criterion: can he drive, protect my perfect ass, pass a security check and not be a pain in the butt? Cause that's all I want. Really," Tony said.

"First three, definitely. Last one? Depends on what annoys you."

"I suppose. How 'bout you try and contact them and if either of them say yes then give me a full run down," Tony said. After a nod of confirmation from the archer and the assassin, he said "Thanks, guys. I was actually a bit lost."

-O.O-

"Cabe can't do it," Natasha announced at dinner about four days later.

"Pardon?" Steve asked.

"Tony misses Happy, so we're looking for a new one," Clint explained shortly, before turning back to Tony. "Cabe's protecting some paranoid Latvian, apparently."

"Oh. Dammit. I liked the sound of her," Tony said flippantly. "What about the other guy? The one you hate?"

"I don't hate him," Clint said. "He's a real ass. He likes to mess with people."

"Sounds like my type of person," Tony grinned.

"He's not the fun kind of asshole," Clint explained. "He's the asshole kind of asshole."

"That's the best kind," Tony pointed out. "What'd he say?"

Natasha snickered. "I'm quoting him when I say 'If I'm looking for a rest, I see no better job than defending a rich bitch wrapped in a tin can,' - so he's available."

"That's rude!" Tony gasped mockingly.

"He's rude," Clint shrugged.

"Tell me about him in ten minutes. It's food time. We don't interrupt food time," Tony said, pushing two bowls of soup towards them.

-O.O-

"So, if this guy is such a pro, then why's he happy being Happy?" Tony asked.

It was just him and Natasha now, watching Tony's new robot do the dishes for them.

"I'm not sure. Last time we met, about two years ago, he was an adrenaline junkie of the worst kind - so easily bored he'd start to lose it without work. As far as I know, that changed about six months ago when he vanished on a job," Natasha said.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I've never heard. All I know for sure is that he turned up two months later in hospital in Iran and he's been out of action ever since," Natasha said. "He's the best of the best, but if he was seriously injured he might've lost his spark."

"Any idea what it is?"

"Not a clue."

"Well, tell me about him. You seem to know him, so..." Tony said.

"Hm," Natasha said. "He's good at what he does. He could out-sass Clint on a bad day. He's got a wicked sense of humour - you'd probably like him. His specialty weapon is throwing knives. He turned down a job at SHIELD a year or so ago. He's probably the only person I know that I could honestly say might be smarter than you. That's about it."

"No one's smarter than me," Tony pouted.

"He might be. We'll put you in a room together and see, right?" Natasha smiled.