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  <title>Bethany Cabe</title>
  <subtitle>Bethany Cabe</subtitle>
  <author>
    <email>lifeinpolaroid@gmail.com</email>
    <name>Bethany Cabe</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2010-10-23T04:55:03Z</updated>
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    <id>urn:lj:scribbld.com:atom1:ironclad:314</id>
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    <title>ironclad @ 2010-10-22T20:15:00</title>
    <published>2010-10-23T03:04:09Z</published>
    <updated>2010-10-23T04:55:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div&gt;Bethany Cabe looked over her morning reports with a glare firmly  affixed to her face.&amp;#160; From just the few seconds she'd glanced over the  pages in front of her she could tell that this was going to be one of  Those days.&amp;#160; Her blood pressure was already threatening to rise and a  curse of &lt;em&gt;I haven't had enough coffee yet to deal with this  shit&amp;#160;&lt;/em&gt; had already passed from her lips.&amp;#160; As per the usual there  was only one person who could infuriate her so much before ten in the  morning and she knew precisely where to find him.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;She yanked the sheet off of the bed, not caring that a model-esque  young woman&amp;#160;fell out and hit the floor with a weak little thud.&amp;#160; The  anorexia queen probably broke a rib; Bethany didn't care nor did she  care that Tony Stark, her boss and primary Pain In Her Ass, was well &lt;em&gt;stark&lt;/em&gt; naked.&amp;#160; He was nice to look at, a considerable  perk, but it wasn't the point.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;quot;Out.&amp;quot; Bethany threw the skimpy things that passed for the model's  clothes out into the hallway and the tone of her voice kept the girl  from protesting.&amp;#160; Her eyes never left Tony even as she crossed her arms  over her chest, delivering unto him the same glare she'd given her  reports not even an hour earlier.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;quot;So let me get this straight one more time, for the record.&amp;#160; That  crazy woman from Kalamazoo who claims you are Jesus and also the father  of her unborn child--which doesn't exit--and has not only threatened to  kill you so you can rule Heaven together but has &lt;em&gt;tried&lt;/em&gt; to make it so resurfaces in the city and you  decide to respond to this threat by ditching your personal bodyguard,  aka me, so you can go party and bring home a twig-sized Friday night  fuck?&amp;quot; She arched a brow.&amp;#160; &amp;quot;If you were really that desperate for  horizontal entertainment we might have been able to work something out.&amp;quot;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;She pulled a small device from her pocket and tossed it onto the bed.&amp;#160; It landed near Tony's bare thigh.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;quot;Buffy who just skulked out of here up until two months ago worked  for Hammer.&amp;#160; &lt;em&gt;Worked&lt;/em&gt; for, not serviced so either she  has a taste for men in your particular line of work or she might have  been up to no good.&amp;#160; I know the company you keep, Tony.&amp;#160; You should know  by now a set of tits doesn't equal a lack of espionage skills.&amp;#160; We're  already checking internal security.&amp;#160; Pepper's re-working your  itinerary.&amp;#160; You &lt;em&gt;might&lt;/em&gt; want to consider some pants.&amp;quot;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
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