Here it is, folks! The sequel you've all been waiting for! ;) ;) I hope you all enjoy it, and leave lots of comments. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

A NEW BALLGAME

Prologue

Pepper was feeling better. He could tell. She had calmed down considerably while he drove her home, and had finally started smiling at his jokes again. She would be all right. He was sure she would be able to get some rest.

Now if only he could get some rest.

Tony Stark rolled over in his bed for the hundredth time that night, twisting the sheets all around his legs. Angrily, he flung them off him, then dropped back down onto his pillow with a thump. The light from the chest piece that was keeping his heart safe glowed in the darkness, creating a strange, circular pattern on the ceiling. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. Why hadn't he thought of making a cover for it so that his own heart wouldn't keep him awake?

"Can I do anything for you, sir?"

Tony jerked into a sitting position.

"Jarvis!" he scolded, his heartbeat racing. "You know it scares me to death when you do that."

"My apologies, sir," Jarvis replied serenely. "It just appeared that you were restless and might be in need of some attention."

"No, I'm fine," Tony growled, flopping back onto his bed.

"If you say so, sir," Jarvis replied dryly, and fell silent. Tony glared at the ceiling, at the reflection of his chest piece. He was not fine. A man had appeared in his apartment that evening--had just appeared. He had called himself Nick Fury, and had asked if he had any interest in helping to form a band of fighters that had extraordinary abilities; people that would fight injustice. What the heck? That was a little too much to digest all at once. So Tony had replied that he would sleep on it.

But that wasn't working. Because as much as he had fought to keep a calm exterior around Pepper, the attempt on his life had rattled him. She was right. Without time to maneuver his way out of a sticky situation, and without his incredible armor--he could be killed just as suddenly as anyone else.

And now everyone on the planet knew that he was the one in the suit. Including that scary man who had somehow gotten into his living room.

"Geez, SHIELD was right..." he whispered, rubbing his eyes. "It should have been a bodyguard..."

"Pardon me, sir?"

"I was talking to myself," Tony answered irritably. "Please be quiet, Jarvis."

"As you wish, sir."

VVVVVVVVVVV

Tony rolled over and stared blearily at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was six in the morning. He hadn't slept at all.

Groaning, he rose to a sitting position and swung his legs off the bed, hanging his head.

"Sir?"

"Jarvis," Tony warned, glaring at the wall.

"Forgive me, sir."

Tony muttered evil things about robots in general and arose, running a hand through his hair. With nothing else to do, he threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and slippers, then tripped downstairs, his slippers slapping against his hard steps.

He glanced briefly toward the kitchen as he decided he wasn't hungry yet. Jarvis had kept the windows tinted, so the whole house was still dark, cool and quiet.

"Makes things a little extra creepy," he commented. Impulsively, he glanced around, waiting for Jarvis to reply, but the computer had learned his lesson. Smirking a little, Tony passed the waterfall in his living room, turned and headed down to his workshop.

He sighed as he stared down at the broken glass mess he still had not cleaned up after he bashed the door out. Carefully, he picked his way through the rubble and headed toward a work station. He suddenly stopped. Why was there no illumination?

"Jarvis, could I have some lights, please?" he called out. "It's like the Bat Cave down here."

Jarvis did not reply with the sardonic answer Tony was expecting, but the lights came on.

Tony froze.

Standing in the middle of his workshop, arms crossed over a broad chest, was a man. He wore a rough beard that lined his jaw, and his hair was dark, wild and beast-like. His features were chiseled and rugged, and he was clad all in leather. His black gaze flashed across the distance between them--a fierce and animal-like scowl.

Tony reacted. Reaching for a new piece of plate armor on the table--sharp and hard as granite--he grasped it in his hand and threw it as hard as he could at the intruder.

The man moved. But not to evade. He spread his stance and flung out his arms, his hands clenching to fists--

And three metal blades lanced out from each fist--each blade a foot long. With a bear-like swipe, the man lunged forward and slashed at the piece of armor--and cut through it as if it were butter.

He then dodged, and the pieces of armor clattered to the floor all around him. Silence fell.

A shudder ran all through Tony's body, and his jaw tightened.

"Relax," the man spoke in a deep voice, stretching his neck and relaxing his stance. "If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd have been dead hours ago."

For once, Tony could think of nothing glib to say. He just stared at those wicked claws, until they retracted back into the man's hands with a snap. Tony lifted his eyes and met the fearsome gaze.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"My friends call me Logan." The man shrugged noncommittally. "But my fighting name is Wolverine."

TBC