Tony Stark

Authors Note: Thanks for choosing this particular story to read out of the many, many others! Review it if you like it, review it if you didn't and tell me why!

(I don't own anything blah-de-blah and whatnot. Enjoy!)

"Goddammit, JARVIS!" The welding helmet flew open and Tony dropped his welding torch. "Why isn't this on full power?! The metal isn't just going to melt itself!" He pulled the helmet off and dropped it, too, running his hands through his hair and over his face.

"I am very sorry, sir, but that specific unit only reaches a maximum of 1450° Celsius, while titanium melts at 1668° Celsius. I recommend a new unit, sir." JARVIS replied, giving a chuckle.

"Dummy, clean this up." Tony swept his arm towards the mess of suit parts and titanium pieces. "JARVIS, open the blinds." A blinding light filled the dark lab, forcing an arm over Tony's eyes. "Slowly! Open them slowly!" He turned from the light and stumbled to a chair, nearly collapsing into it. Resting his face in his hands, Tony turned the previous day's events in his mind.

Pepper left. She really left. It had started with yelling, as it always did, and ended when his rage sent a marble vase flying across the room. Her eyes had welled with tears. She had moved from him as if she was scared. Scared of him. She wouldn't even let him near her, so he could try to comfort her and tell her how absurd he had been, that he hadn't meant to chuck it so far, to break the glass panel of wall. Instead she rushed to their room and pulled her clothes from every drawer and closet, stuffing it all in bags. Screaming at him that this was it, she was done. Pushing past him and having JARVIS call a cab and get her a plane ticket to her mother's. He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye.

The weight of her loss was crushing him, wiping his mind of all sanity. Of course his ancient arc welder maxed out at a lower temperature. His good unit was in the shop, due to a small explosion in the lab, and he was forced to use the old one. "When is the other unit coming back?" He lifted his head.

"The status says it is ready for pickup. Shall I send for it?" JARVIS pulled up the website of Nathan's Welding Emporium. A green checkmark next to the receipt for the repair of his 450 duo CST showed that the mechanic had finished with it.

"No, I'll go after it myself. Pull the truck around front." Tony stood and strode upstairs, avoiding looking at the framed picture of Pepper hanging at the end of the stair well. He had it placed after her 32th birthday. He had originally put it up in the dining room, but she had protested, complaining that she didn't want to look at herself as she ate. The memory made Tony smile for a moment before he shook his head and walked faster. He walked past the door and out the still shattered panel, making a mental note of getting it replaced sooner rather than later.

The Chevy Silverado sat idling in the drive, a small trailer for the unit hitched to it already. As he drove down to the highway, Tony searched the radio for a suitable rock station. His usual was playing Christmas music far too early, and the more popular stations insisted on playing pop music. After a few minutes of hit and miss, he found one playing Def Leppard and he twisted the volume knob to its highest setting. Music so loud made it very hard to think, and if he couldn't think he wouldn't be worried about Pepper.

It didn't take him long to find the shop and pick up his unit. Instead of rushing back to his lab to finish his newest suit, Tony decided to find some lunch. He had missed breakfast, and dinner, too, the night before. He had been working since Pepper left and that gave him very little time for his mind to wander if it was constantly focused on dynamics, plate placement, and other such things. A host of fast food places lined this street, but not one sounded good to him. Nearly a mile passed before he saw the small sign pointing at a hole-in-the-wall café. He braked hard and turned into the gravel lot, parking closer to the back.

It was a small establishment boasting a neon sign that read Lou's Kitchen in swirly script. Tony strode to the side door and pulled it open, the glorious smell of a well-cooked burger soaking into his clothes. He smiled to himself and chose to sit at the bar. He smiled at the woman two stools down. She had a book propped up against a napkin dispenser and a hefty plate of fries smothered in gravy. She smiled back briefly, and then went back to reading and munching on her southern concoction.

"What'll it be, hun?" A waitress straight from the 50's strode up to the counter and pointed at Tony with the pen in her hand. The mustard yellow smock covered the front of her blue sweater and skirt. Her hair was piled ridiculously high on her head, giving her the tousled bee-hive look. Tony glanced around the restaurant, noticing another waitress in the same getup. She smacked her gum and cocked her hip as she waited for an answer.

Tony pushed his menu away. "I want the biggest burger you have, a plate of the heart-attack fries girly over here has," He pointed at the oblivious woman, "and some water." He watched the waitress jot down his order and twitch away. For the first time he looked around the room. The floor was blue and yellow tile to match the blue and yellow booths. The walls had an odd farm scene going on with sheep and cows dancing with their heads thrown back. If the food was any good, he could see himself coming back.

Soon enough, his food arrived. Along with his gravy-fries, the waitress set down the largest burger Tony had ever seen. "Just to warn ya, this here burger weighs about four pounds. The meat is three by itself, the toppins do the rest. Call me if ya need me." She pulled a glass from under the bar and poured him some water, then pulled a cigarette from her apron pocket. "But don't need me." She smiled and made her way back to the kitchen.

"Have you ever seen a burger as big as your face?" Tony directed his question to the still absorbed woman. She paused, a sopping fry halfway to her opened mouth and a surprised look on her face.

She hurriedly ate her fry and wiped her mouth on a napkin. "Uh… Yes, actually. I come here quite often." She smiled a sheepish smile and picked at her plate of fries. "I see you ordered the smothered fries?" She finally turned towards him, pushing a strand of wildly curly hair behind her ear, and looked him in the eye.

Tony was mildly surprised by her Southern drawl for a moment, but mostly he was lost in her intelligent eyes. The way she looked at him, it completely threw him off guard and off his game. "Oh. Yes. Fries. Gravy." He mentally slapped himself for sounding so stupid. "I'm Tony. And you are…?" He swirled a fry in the air with one hand, and held his monster burger in the other.

"Hermione Granger, PI, but you can call me Hermione." She smiled more boldly now and stuck a hand out to shake his, but withdrew it as she noticed they were otherwise occupied. "I know who you are. You are not just Tony. You are the famous Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man." By now she was grinning like a fool. She quickly composed herself and turned back to her book. "Or, at least, that's what I've read."

Tony could see the blush that crawled up her cheeks. He would have never guessed this beautiful woman was a Tony Enthusiast, but it somehow made her even more endearing. He, too, turned back to his plate and started to eat, his mind working as he chomped on the best burger his taste buds had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Whoever this Lou is, he makes a hell of a burger, Tony thought. Eyeing the plate of fries, he nibbled the tip of one. "Hey! This is good-" He turned to thank Hermione for the idea, but she had left. Tony sighed and finished his food. As he stood to pay his bill, he noticed writing on a napkin.

Stark,

I don't do this sort of thing normally, so DO NOT peg me as that sort of girl. Feel free to call me. I would love to learn more about your work. And maybe a date. Maybe.

Sincerely, Granger.

A number was scrawled on the flipside, along with a smiley face. This girl was different than most Tony Enthusiasts, but he liked it. A lot.

As he paid for his bill, he mulled over the whole encounter and tried to unravel the mystery that was Hermione Granger. She was a private investigator, but interested in Tony's work. What was his work? Stark Industries? Iron Man? Tony shook his head and left the restaurant, intent on making it home and working on his latest suit. This girl would not get under his skin. He would just shake her out of his mind and be done with it.

Hermione Granger

Hermione kept her composure for the cab ride to her hotel, and then up the stairs to her room. She hurriedly pushed the room key in and almost fell into the room. When the door closed, she threw her purse down and did a silent dance, her fists clenched against her chest.

"Tony Stark! Tony freaking Stark!" Hermione screamed into the room, grinning all the while. "And I gave him my number…" She backed up against the door and slowly slid down to the floor. "What if he thinks I'm desperate? I'm not desperate. I'm not. Am I?" She dropped her head onto her knees. "Crookshanks. I need advice, sweetums."

A mewl sounded from the restroom and a large, ginger cat came prancing out. He pushed his head into Hermione's arms and forced himself into her lap. Hermione couldn't rest her head on her knees with him in her lap, so she opted to pet him instead. "What do you think, Crookshanks? Should I have left that note? What if he calls me? Oh goodness! What if he calls me?!"

Hermione jumped up, sending Crookshanks to the floor with a hiss. She grabbed her purse and rushed to the desk near the window, spilling nearly everything in it as she went. Her phone battery had died earlier that morning and she hadn't had time to charge it. If Tony had called already, she wouldn't have been able to answer it. A nasty feeling began to bubble up in her stomach at the thought of him not being able to reach her. He would probably think she chickened out and decided to ignore him.

She pawed through the pockets and found her phone and its charger. She then crawled under the desk to plug the charger into the wall. When she emerged from under the desk, she fell into a chair and clicked the smaller end into her phone's outlet. The little apple logo popped up and glowed as it turned on, taking its own sweet time as Hermione nervously chewed her lip. After what seemed like an hour, the home screen appeared. No missed calls. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and laid her phone down.

"I was probably overreacting, anyways." She spoke to the irritated cat, who now sat on the bed swishing his tail back and forth. Hermione picked up the contents of her purse that lay scattered from the door way to the desk, muttering to herself as she put each item in the appropriate pocket. "Of course he wouldn't have called me yet. It's only been an hour or so. Why would he want to call me, anyways? He most likely has girls fawning over him every day. I'm no different. Well, I am different. I'm not after his money, or even a night with him to tell my friends about. I want to know why he does all of it. How he chooses to build each suit. I want to ask him about the first suit. And possibly go out for some coffee. He is kind of handsome…"

Crookshanks had been watching her wander around the room cleaning up lipsticks, stray coins, and folded bits of paper. He hopped from the bed and sauntered to the desk, crouching low before he jumped up onto it. Then he did something odd; he sat directly onto Hermione's phone and stayed there. When Hermione finally stopped talking to herself and fell into bed with her newest mystery novel, she didn't notice Crookshank's absence. Nor did she notice the muffled ringing that came from underneath the disgruntled cat, who shifted his weight as to quiet it.

Several hours passed before Hermione set down her now finished book. She scooted to the edge of the bed and stretched her arms out before her. "Crookshanks, would you like some kitty food?" Hermione scanned the room and smiled when she saw Crookshanks stretched out in a sunbeam that had settled on the desk. She gathered him up in her arms and carried him to the bathroom. She hummed an old song to herself as she opened a can of cat food, wrinkling her nose as she got a whiff. "Crookshanks, this food smells not so good."

Crookshanks mewled in response and batted his empty dish. Hermione smiled at him and scooped the food into his dish. "As long as you like it, silly cat." She giggled at the expressive cat, who had begun to eat like he had never seen food before. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you haven't eaten in a week!" She stroked him along his back and over his tail before standing back up. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and turned towards her reflection. Her reddish-brown hair was curly today, and she didn't like it. She tried to smooth down the tangle of curls with one hand and ran a brush through it with the other. It was useless. She knew if she didn't spend an hour on it attacking the mess with a straightening iron and hair spray, it would go back to its natural state.

She poked her tongue at her reflection and walked back into the main room. Her body stiffened as she remembered the Tony Stark ordeal. She hurried to the desk and unplugged her phone. A missed call! A tiny icon at the top of the screen showed that she had a voicemail, as well. Hermione hugged the phone to her chest and squealed. He had called her! Really truly called her! Before she lost her nerve, she dialed her voicemail number and punched in the security code.

"Uh. I think this is the right number, so, uh, hi. This is Tony. Tony Stark. From the restaurant today, but you probably already know that. Oh, geez, I sound so stupid. Here, if you still think you would like to talk to me, call me back. Or don't, that's cool, too. Yeah. Bye."

Hermione clicked the end button and sat down. That was what she least expected. She had always thought the Great Tony Stark was so put together and suave, but she must have been mistaken. The Tony she just heard was really awkward. She frowned, wondering why he had seemed so uncomfortable. Whatever the reason, she was unsure if she wanted to call him back. Maybe he was only calling her so she wouldn't feel terrible and he didn't want her to call back. But he had said to call him back, didn't he? Hermione dropped her head onto the desk and rested her cheek against the cool surface.

"What's the worst that could happen? He could not answer, that's what. If he really doesn't want to talk to me, he will not pick up and then I can move on. It's that easy." She sighed and picked up her phone once more, her thumb hovering over the call button. She took a deep breath and hit it, bringing the phone to her ear. One ring. Then another. Two more and she was ready to hang up, but then the receiver clicked.

"Hello? Hermione?" A husky voice sounded from the other end.

"Oh, hi! Yeah, I saw you called." Play it cool, Granger, Hermione thought. She bit her cheek until it hurt, holding back all the words she needed to spout out. "What's up?" Her eyes went wide, and she nearly hung up right then. Did I really just say that?!

Tony laughed, but quickly cleared his throat. "Oh, nothing much, just working on a project. What is up with you?"

Hermione was unsure if he was making fun of her, so she tried to let it go. "I just finished a book. And then I fed the cat." She bit her cheek harder, wishing she wasn't so socially inept.

"Okay, so this conversation is going nowhere fast. Would you have dinner with me?" Tony's question was abrupt, and silence hung in the air for a moment.

"Yes! I mean, that would be great! Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, as I'm sure you know, but this weekend would be awesome." She squeezed her eyes shut and grinned. Tony Stark had just asked her out. Twelve hours ago, she had never met the man, and now she was going to have dinner with him.

"Are you eating Thanksgiving dinner with family?" His voice sounded small.

Hermione hadn't planned on eating thanksgiving dinner with anyone but Crookshanks. "Not exactly. I'm in town on business. I assumed you would be." She picked at her nails, glad he wasn't there to see how nervous she was.

"I'm sure you know who my dad was. Emphasis on the past tense. JARVIS will be the only one to keep me company for the holidays. Unless you would like to join me, that is." His voice definitely sounded timid to Hermione. She never would have thought Tony Stark could be shy.

"I would be glad to join you, Tony. What time?" Hermione was beaming by now. Not only was she going to be having dinner with him, she would get to see his home. And quite possibly his lab. She kept in a squeal of joy.

"Be ready around seven and I'll pick you up. Where are you staying?"

"I'm at the La Quinta on 114th. Thank you, Tony. I appreciate this. Your generosity and all." It was all Hermione could do to not tell him that this was a dream come true, but that would probably freak him out.

"You're welcome, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow evening."

"Okay, bye." She heard a click and pulled the phone away from her ear. She gingerly sat it down and leaned back in her chair. Closing her eyes, she imagined a sports car pulling in to the hotel. She would step out of the lobby in a long, green dress- "Oh, no! I don't have a dress!" She jumped up and found her baggage, searching through it for the dress she knew wasn't in there. She checked her watch, and saw that it was nearly 6 o'clock.

Hermione grabbed her purse and cell phone and rushed out the door. If she was quick enough, she could make it to the mall and find a dress before everything closed. Tomorrow night would be perfect.