Iron Man: Young billionaire industrialist Tony Stark was once approached by a terrorist cell to create for them a weapon off mass destruction. When he refused, they planted a bomb in his car, which exploded and sent shrapnel into his chest, after which he was taken hostage by the terrorists. With the help of a medical scientist named Yinsen, he constructed a suit of armor to both save his life, and to escape from his captors. Afterwards, he continued making newer and more advanced suits of armor, and serving in relative secrecy as the Golden Avenger, Iron Man.
Kim Possible: A teenaged girl, who can do anything and everything, and is always willing to help people out, for no personal gain of her own. Cheerleader by day, and teenaged hero by night, she not only balances the life of a normal, everyday teenaged girl, and the life of a heroine, with her own set of enemies. Aided by her best friend Ron Stoppable, and his pet – a naked mole rat he named Rufus – she's an unstoppable force for good.
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters featured in this piece of fiction belong to me, but rather their respective companies – especially Iron Man, and Kim Possible. The only real contribution I've had to this is changing Iron Man to my own version, which I thought was more suitable to this fanfiction. Also, many of the ideas represented herein are also not mine, and at all times I've tried to avoid straying too far from the characters' original personalities. Also, for picture reference, click this link: http/ . Thank you for your time.
It was night, at the Middleton branch of Stark Industries, owned by none other than Anthony B. Stark, young genius and inventor, and business man, and the only people on the premises were some security guards, and scientists working late-night. That is, they were the only people SUPPOSED to be there. Floating up in the sky, above a skylight that had been taped and cracked open, with a long rope snaking down into it, was a round, saucer-shaped aircraft. A few red jump-suited men wearing black masks were attempting to shimmy down the rope – and not very well. And down below, standing in front of a glass display case that held a what most people assumed to be a mock-up of a large, but clunky, grey suit of armor, was a dark-haired woman with pale, whitish-green skin, and wearing a stylized black and green body suit, with matching gloves and boots, and dark green eyes, with her arms crossed over her stomach. She was eyeing the suit with a wry grin on her face.
"And they consider THIS to be hi-tech?" she asked no one in particular, with a sarcastic edge to it, before placing her hands on the case. They started to glow with a green aura tinted with the occasional black spot, and soon melted through the case. She spread her arms out, melting more of the case, until the armor was standing there out in the open, its eye and mouth slits seeming to cast a dark glare on the woman. She growled a little, the whole effect creeping her out a little, and jumped into the air, spinning as she did, and kicked the helmet off and to the floor, where it impacted loudly, and bounced a little. The sound carried up to the ship overhead, and a somewhat whiney voice yelled out.
"SHEGO! DON'T DAMAGE THE MERCHANDISE!" it rang out even louder than the helmet, and a series of alarms suddenly rang out. The woman glared up at the ship, and shook a fist at it as she rolled forwards and grabbed the helmet, slamming it back in place, then attaching a sturdy harness to the chest. She gave the rope a tug, and soon both she and the heavy suit were being pulled up slowly. This was mostly because one wrong move, and the suit's magnetic locks might not hold properly, and they'd lose everything but the chest plate.
It was at this point that security barged into the room, and opened fire. The woman lay on top of the armor, ducking the bullets, and then popped up, and made a throwing motion with a glowing hand. A ball of green and black energy flew forwards, and hit the ground in between the grouping of officers with a loud explosion, which sent them all flying every which way. Shego laughed, and waved at them, as she and the suit, and the jumpsuits were pulled into a loading bay of the ship, which then zoomed off into the distance.
One of the guards, a younger man with very dirty blond hair, with bangs over his right blue eye and a name tag that read 'Kennedy,' tilted his hat back, and whistled. "Mr. Stark isn't going to like this one bit."
It was the next day, in the home of the Possible family, and the news hadn't leaked out yet, though that would prove to cause a series of unfortunate events in the near future. For now, everything was well…or at least as well as it could be. The teenaged Kim Possible – seated at the kitchen table - was scowling a little, hands on her head, as her younger twin brothers ran around in circles, for no apparent reason at all – they rarely needed one these days. Her father was reading the newspaper, as he was prone to do every morning, and her mother was getting breakfast. She was wearing her usual green top and blue pants, and sported a tired look on her face.
"Mom, can't you do anything about the tweebs? I was up all night, AGAIN," she groaned, finally slamming her head down on the table top and making glasses and the slat and pepper shakers jump up into the air a little, then come back down with a rattle. Her mother just shrugged, and set down a few plates, each one having eggs and toast on them. Kim pulled herself back up, and slouched over backwards, eyes looking up at the roof. "I thought so."
"Kimmy, it's just a phase, really…" her mother said, a smile on her face as she sat down. "They'll grow out of it…someday. You did." Her father laughed a little, nodding, and went back to his paper, turning the page slowly, until he hit what most people in his profession thought was amusing – the science section. It was really more a commentary on random little things people thought amusing…though today, one article caught his eye, and he whistled. "What is it, honey?"
"I can't believe I didn't hear of this…it says here that Anthony Stark is coming to Middleton, to open a new science centre. Wow," He whistled again, and leafed through the pages again. Kim straightened up a little, and blinked. Then she turned to her mother.
"Mom, at the risk of sounding stupid…who's Anthony Stark?" she smiled sweetly, a curious look on her face. Her mother got up, and went into the living room, then set down a magazine. It wasn't a science periodical, but rather one of those teen magazines that weren't really the reading material of a brain surgeon, but on the cover was a handsome young man, with combed dark hair (with just a hint of deep blue), and an easy smile, with wonderfully white teeth, and a dark red dress shirt, black tie, and black pants, with a sportscoat hanging over his shoulder, and the words 'Tony Stark – Man of the Year.' "I see…can't believe I haven't heard of him before."
Her father looked at her, over the top of his paper. "Well, Kimmy, he's not one of your rock musicians, or pop idols…" the redhead cringed a little at that, since her father had a knack for saying things in an embarrassing manner, "In fact, he's a scientific genius – maybe not as smart as the old man, of course, but pretty smart – and business man. And a playboy." He wore a disapproving look on his face at that part, and shook his head a little. "I daresay that if his parents were still with us, they'd be very disappointed." Kim blinked a little at that.
"Does that mean…?"
"Yes, Kimmy, he's an orphan…has been for seven years now. He took over the family business at fourteen, and has been doing great things with it…though they say he was an incredible munitions designer – not like that's something to be proud of. But I shouldn't speak ill of a man I barely know…it's not polite."
The twins paused in their running around, and snatched up the magazine, now fighting over that. Their mother made a small sighing sound, as she sipped at her cup of coffee. "Tim, Jim…behave."
"Yes, mother."
Kim made a face, and poked at her egg. "Looks like this is going to be yet another one of THOSE days…"
At the same time, sitting on a private jet, also sipping on a cup of coffee – this one in a paper cup with the Starbucks logo on it – was none other than Tony Stark, wearing a white shirt, blue slacks, and a red and blue striped tie, and expensive Armani shoes. Sitting across from him was an African American, with close cut hair, a beard, and a mustache, wearing an ill-fitting business suit, with a professional looking black tie, and an uncomfortable look on his face. Tony looked up at him, with a small grin.
"Rhodey, you didn't have to wear that suit…you could've just dressed casual like me," he said, before sipping at his coffee again. His vice-president, and former pilot, gave him a look, one that he'd given him time and again.
"Tony, you know this is important – why couldn't you have just worn your suit?"
"Rhodey, Rhodey, Rhodey…I have a walk-in closet in this crate. I can change as soon as we touch down." He received a disbelieving stare at that.
"You mean I could've just worn my regular clothes and changed when we got there?"
"Mhmm."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Every minute of it, my friend. Every minute of it."
The overhead came on at that point. "Mister Stark, Mister Rhodes? We'll be touching down in half an hour. I repeat, we'll be touching down in Middleton in thirty minutes."
"Oh joy…" Rhodey rolled his brown eyes, leaning back in his seat, and adjusting his tie. "Let's just get this over with so I can get out of this penguin suit, okay?" This earned a chuckle from the young man seated across from him. "Don't even snicker, or I'm kicking you square in your butt." Tony held up his hands, having set the coffee cup down in a cup holder.
"Okay, okay…my bad, sorry."
Sitting down in a lounging chair, and flipping through a current issue of People Magazine, Shego hummed a little, ignoring what she considered the great grey monstrosity over in the corner. Her employer, Doctor Drakken, had pried open the chest plates and hand units, picking through the various circuits. Drakken was smart, but not as smart as he'd like to think, and he accidentally trigged an electric surge, which sent a beam of pure energy sparking from the round hole on the palm, which then blew a hole through several walls.
"Oh my…this thing is even better than I had hoped!" he crowed, an evil grin on his face, as the glove started to cool down. "All I need to do now is adapt this to something of my own design, and build a better armor!" Shego looked up over her book, a little smug smile on her face.
"Doc, if you wanted to make a better armor, then why did you steal that old hunk of junk? I mean, there were at least three better suits than that one…" Drakken's face fell at that, his left eye twitching repeatedly.
"Bite your tongue, Shego! I hadn't factored that in…"
"You mean you were too afraid to actually break into the labs and steal one, because you though the big bad Steel Man would get you?"
"It's Iron Man."
"Pardon?"
"It's not Steel Man, it's Iron Man. IRON Man. Not Steel, Iron."
"Okay okay, just….shut up already, you're getting on my nerves…" she groaned, going back to her magazine. "Besides, how do you know it's even real? I mean, that Centurion project thing was way more impressive than this garbage."
"Yes, well…we're going after that next."
"What now?"
"Well, you see, we need to get into the secret government lab to steal in, but to be on the extremely safe side, I needed an old Iron Man suit to take care of security. There's only one problem…"
"And that would be?"
"Finding someone competent enough to use this thing." This made Shego laugh, putting her black gloved hand over her mouth.
"I see. So, the big part this thing is supposed to play, is useless unless you have someone to use it."
"THAT'S why I'm adapting the suit to make my own. Which YOU will wear."
"….What are you talking about?"
Drakken started pacing, hands in the air, one of them holding onto a smaller glove, with various wires coming off of it, and shook it at Shego. "All I have to do, is copy the 'Repulsor Ray' technology into THIS piece of armor I based off of the Centurion, and test it. Then you use it, and we're in the clear."
"So wait, let me get this straight: You want to steal a complex, hard to use, and compact super armor, when you could just simply make your own?"
"It wouldn't be the same!"
"Oh, that's right…you never could build anything that worked right for very long…"
"What about the Doom V?"
"That only worked because you had your cousin 'Eddie,' who is a car mechanic, to help you build it! On your own, you nearly blew up the engine!"
"…Yes, well..."
"My point exactly…I mean, don't get me wrong…you're smart. Maybe even a genius of sorts…but you're no Tony Stark, or that nerd that helps out Possible."
"BITE YOUR TONGUE!"