She shakes her head. “I’m not an agent. I’m like you.” She taps at the card. “See? Consultant. Freelancer. I don’t take orders. I really do just want to look at the Tower.” She twists her hands in her lap, flushing faintly and obviously embarrassed, she goes on, “I only said one untrue thing. I — I was helping some people, during the lightup. Or I would have been there.”
“What sort of work do you do for SHIELD? My consulting for them has been hit or miss for awhile now. Fury and I never see eye to eye.” Tony pulls out a menu from the other end of the table to glance over. “At least you made it back, and have your home. There will be other times to help out.”
“I’m SAR. And crowd control.” She fiddles the card between her fingers. “I — I helped look for you, when you were kidnapped.” For something, anything to do with her hands, she puts the ID card away and pulls out her driver’s license, to show the waiter when he comes, so she can order amaretto and coke.
After ordering a drink and a basket of fries to eat while they carry on their conversation Tony quirks a brow at her. “You were a part of the SAR for that? Not an easy mission to undertake given the location. Don’t think anyone would have found me had I not blasted out of there. Too many nooks and crannies in the mountains to be able to search effectively. On the upside I’m here and not there. You weren’t with the party that picked me up were you? I honestly don’t remember much of the pickup and the transport to the base.”
“You’re right,” she admits. “I couldn’t do it; after the first few days there wasn’t enough to differentiate you from most of the rest of the folk in the area — and there was so much area.” She sighs, closes her eyes. “I’m not the Professor; I can’t get a sense of you from someone else. Sitwell found you.” She sounds a little disappointed. “I should have been able to do more. Anyway, Colonel Rhodes wouldn’t let me come along once they’d located you; said we’d done enough already.
“I couldn’t get a fix. Not without having met you before.” Her eyes open, haunted. “There are so many pockets of people there, confused, compelled, hurting. I couldn’t pick you out. Not — I failed.”