A/N: Hello guys! This has been an idea for a while and I feel like there's not enough Tony/OC stories so here it goes. I know the Pepperony army is big and that's perfectly fine, I respect all ships! But personally I always thought Tony and Pepper were great as friends, but terrible as a couple. Tony Stark is Iron Man, you can't have one without the other, and Pepper calling the armors "just machines", letting him destroy them all for her and needing time in Civil War... And don't even get me started with his lack of tact and gestures towards her. I think it's not a healthy relationship and they both would be better off alone/with someone else. But hey, that's just my opinion.

Anyway, this story starts with IM3 and will go on with CAWS, AoU, CACW and, in the future, with Infinity War.

Let me know what you think! xx

I only own my OC's and blah blah blah. This is fiction. Rated M for cursing and future lemons.

TINK. TINK. TINK. … TINK. TINK. TINK.

That's the only sound you'll hear in the Malibu mansion nowadays. And only if you go down to the workshop. Not loud obnoxious music coming from hidden speakers, not even JARVIS. Tony Stark refused to talk to his AI since it diagnosed him with an anxiety attack. Which sucked, because he needed JARVIS to continue with the Mark 42 autonomous system. And so while he mopped around trying to come to terms with his miserable life, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist-PSTD'd restored to do what he did best: tinker.

After the battle with Loki and the chitauri he stayed for a while in New York City, mostly helping to clean up the mess. He signed a contract with the government by which his company would provide all the means necessary to get the city back up and running. That meant money, machinery and workers to clean up the rubble and rebuild what was demolished. Yes, he did it out of guilt. Looking down to the city that saw him grow up from his tower made him cringe. They saved New York from an alien invasion with minimum casualties, but at what cost… Stark Tower had suffered too, so he took advantage of the situation to add some improvements, like a new lab for Banner to do his thing and containment modules for the Hulk, made from poly-tectic adaptive materials that can withstand his blows. At least for a while. Tested.

Busy times signing contracts, doing science with his science bro, and joining the efforts of his fellow citizens to make it all better. For a while it was common to see him and his heavy-construction armors coordinating rescue and cleaning missions. All in all he was feeling quite good. Useful. But as things went back to normal and he had more time to spend with his friends and girlfriend, that's when his life went down the sewer, ironically.

With time to sleep, and not simply taking siestas, came the nightmares. In those, he never came back from the wormhole and into the awaiting arms of the Hulk. He felt the propulsion system of the suit dying, leaving him behind as the missile he carried on his back continued on towards its objective. As JARVIS and his OS powered down so did his mask, leaving his sight limited to thin slits. But it was enough, enough to see the explosion. To see it, but not hear it. Oh, the silence. The eerie and total silence. He was spinning backwards now. There was no more fire. And not going back. He did it. They won. Would they be celebrating? Or would they be looking up to the sky where he disappeared? It didn't matter. He was alone. More alone that he would ever be. Alone for the last time. That should give him some peace, right? It didn't. It was too much. It was too big. Too cold.

Cold creeped inside his armor and claustrophobia constricted his chest. He felt tears freezing in the corners of his eyes. What now? Was he moving at all? He couldn't tell. For how long would this go on? Until he asphyxiated? Until he floated into a celestial body? Death was the only thought crossing his mind in his last moments, and the worst part? It never came.

Those nightmares returned every single night, ruining any possibility for a normal life. Particularly with Pepper. Their relationship was done the very moment he crossed the wormhole. Although the more he thought about it, the more he believed it was doomed from the start. After the Battle of New York they were too busy and barely saw each other. And when they finally had time it went worst. He couldn't sleep, and his trashing around in bed made it so she couldn't sleep either. Before long they both were overtired, snippy and picking fights over nothing. But they kept trying. Going to bed together, night after night, only to end up having the same argument. Those arguments escalated quickly. Some nights she would take her pillow and go to try and sleep in one of the many spare rooms. Sometimes he would be the one leaving and going to the workshop. He figured if he couldn't sleep at least he could spend the time in something useful. Until the fruit of his hard work attacked Pepper when she was trying to wake him from his nightmares.

That was the last time they slept (or tried to) together. And the last time they had sex? Before the Battle of New York. As explained before, first they were too busy, and then they were too tired. They didn't even kiss anymore. They hadn't for a while. Sometimes she tried to approach him, but he was beyond that. He was hiding from the world. Hiding from her. Even Rhodes and Happy were strangers now. His science bro, Bruce Banner, was his only form of human contact. The way everything around him turned upside down he felt he could relate with the constant struggle in the doctor's life. Both of them spent the hours in their labs, barely eating, barely sleeping, consumed by their work. Their hobby. Their obsession. Soon, even Pepper got tired of trying. She wouldn't go down to the workshop anymore. She would walk into the Malibu mansion late at night, after work, and go straight to bed. Hours later, when she left early to deal with Stark Industries, all dressed up like a business woman, he was still tinkering downstairs, and most probably stinking too.

"Ouch! Shit!" – He put his thumb into his mouth after nailing it by accident-. "JARVIS, what time is it?" – He cleaned the excess of grease on his hands with a cloth-. "JARVIS?" –He insisted before realizing he had muted the AI hours ago-. "You can speak now, JARVIS."

"It's half past nine, sir."

"Ok, I'm going to take a shower. DUMM-E, clean up this mess, will you?"

"Should I order some take over?" –The AI asked him as he made his way upstairs two at a time.

"Not hungry."

"But sir-"

"I don't want to hear it JAR."

He strolled into the room he used this days. It was on the ground floor, turning under the stairs, right over the workshop. Honestly, he didn't really use the place to sleep. But this room turned out to be the only safe place in the house other than the workshop. In their last argument, Pepper had followed him there, and he closed the door on her nose with surprising distress. He didn't want her oppressive persona tainting the calming space between those walls. God, when did it all go so wrong…

He stepped into the ensuite bathroom taking off his clothes rather clumsily. He was more tired than he previously thought. He leaned on the faucet, reaching blindly to turn on the shower tap. As the place filled up with steam, he looked up at his own reflection. The bags under his eyes were bad, his hair was a mess, and the muscles of his arms and shoulders were overly pronounced as they used to be when he hammered on plates of armor for far too long. Finally he stepped into the shower, turning his neck side to side, allowing the water to soak every inch of his body, relaxing in its warm caress. He closed his eyes and let it fall directly onto his head and down his back. When he opened them again, he saw the nuclear white of the tiles turn a swirling black and grey with diluted grease. Pepper always freaked out when he stepped into their shower dirty like this. God, she was preppy… He closed his eyes again and exhaled, rubbing his face with his now clean hands. He didn't want to think about her. He didn't want to think about their fake of a relationship. He thought about masturbating, only to look down in frustration to his unresponsive limp cock. He was in his thirties, for fuck's sake, the mere thought of having sex –even if it was with himself- should have him swelling.

He stepped outside, drying his body quickly and walking to the chair where he kept a tank top and trekkie pants. This was something he couldn't do either with Pepper: walk around naked, in his own room. His sad little worm was to stay put and covered unless required. And since when was it sad and little? He used to be proud of it. Why was he undermining himself this way? Could he have plumbed such depths?

"JARVIS, call Doctor Banner."

He sat at the end of the bed, pulling in the little coffee table and opening his laptop. As he waited for a response on the other side of the line he looked outside, to the glimmering path the moon painted over the pacific. He didn't know why he didn't choose this room when moving into the Malibu mansion. Sure, it was smaller than his master bedroom –now Pepper's, when she wasn't spending the night with her mom-, but somehow he liked it better. The bed was on the small side. Yes, it was good for one person, but two wouldn't be able to turn around keeping their distance from the other. The outer wall was made-up of panels of glass, ceiling to floor, like a big curved screen connecting live with the ocean. The floor was a simple sand polished concrete, much like the one in the workshop. Maybe that's why he favored this room among all others.

"Hey, Tony" – the voice coming from his laptop took him out of his musings.

"Hey, Bruce" –he returned lively-. "Look at you! Eating and… not working."

This was the first time he didn't see the lab behind Bruce Banner when he picked up. As Tony, Bruce used to work late nights, and he would always pick up in his white lab coat, complaining about the billionaire interrupting his work. But not today. From what Tony could see, Anger Issues was actually wearing pajamas, chilling in the penthouse living, eating some kind of noodles, and by the reflection on his glasses and the background noise, watching TV.

"Yeah, I figured I could take a break. Work isn't going anywhere, anyhow." –Tony could hear the weariness in Bruce's voice as he picked at his food with the chopsticks.

"Do you need anything, pal? I can have it in the lab first thing in the morning."

"Nah, it's not a problem of resources. I just need to take a break and look at it with a fresh mind. What about you?"

"Same as you? On paper it's ready. But I can't get it to work properly. The propulsion system is erratic. Not smooth enough to try on safely. I need to come up with a new autonomous system. High precision is what I need."

"Tony, turn on the TV. TBS."

Automatically the TV over the drawer turned on – the perks of JARVIS-.

"Are we chilling and Netflix together?" – Tony joked.

"Just watch."

Tony focused his attention on the screen, curious as to why his science bro would interrupt that way their science babbling. It was that late show with the ginger host, Conan. Tony was invited more than once in the past, and he would be probably invited again, but just now his public agenda was closed, he wasn't in the mood for interviews.

The celebrity of the night was sitting in the blue armchair designated for the guests. It was a woman Tony didn't recognize.

"I've been wanting to ask, how do you pronounce your name?"

"Like you did before."

"EE-MOH-GEN?"

"Yeah, exactly! I also pronounce it were-my-parents-drunk-when-they-named-me? But that's a bit of a mouthful." – She joked making the host and audience laugh.

"Were the other kids mean to you because of your name?"

"Of course. Kids can be cruel, and when you have a name that sounds like a nutritional supplement meanness is something that happens."- She joked again.

"So you go by Immy."

"Yeah, makes life easier."

The last laughs died down marking the end of the first part of the interview, where host and guest usually broke the ice with a light banter.

"You mentioned your parents being drunk when they named you. Did they name you? I mean, you're a well-known orphan. Did you ever meet them?"

"No, I never met my parents. But I know for a fact that my biological mother decided my name before giving me up to the Maria Stark Foundation Hospice."

Now that drew Tony's attention.

"And you never were adopted. You lived there all your life, is that right?"

"Yes, I guess adopting wasn't as much of a popular option thirty years ago as it is now. Few were the lucky ones. Most of us stayed at the hospice until we were off age or had the means to sustain ourselves."

"So when did you leave the hospice behind?"

"Well, I was fifteen when I won the Maria Stark Foundation scholarship for MIT and had to move to Massachusetts."

"Fifteen!" – The audience erupted in catcalls.

While her admission at a young age didn't impress Tony –he himself was admitted at the same age-, it peeked his curiosity even more. Who was this chick? Obviously she was famous, she wouldn't be interviewed by this guy if she wasn't. And apparently she was brainy. Was she on his field? Is that how she became a celebrity? He leaned forward unconsciously, his ass dangling precariously over the edge of the bed, to take a closer look at her. She looked younger than him, mid-twenties, maybe. There was a naturalness about her. Her make-up was light and her brown hair was loose, falling in natural waves behind her shoulders with a simple straight parting. She was wearing a black fitted dress to her knees, with a busier-style top. The wide straps, V-neck and subtle paneling created a flattering silhouette, and the dark color enhanced the stormy gray of her eyes. You didn't see many women wearing that kind of dress anymore. It was classy but not boring. Striking but not showy. She wasn't trying. Most celebrities prepared those interviews beforehand, from their answers to the outfit and body language. As someone who fed off this kind of public attention for many years, Tony knew. Men wore tight shirts to show off their muscles, and women favored short outfits and lots of cleavage. Even the smiles were rehearsed.

The woman giggling in the screen right now didn't fit in all of that. She oozed candor. Where other people would be worrying about acting pretty she was making silly faces and gesticulating exaggeratedly. She was out of place. This wasn't her kind of thing, and she was going with the flow.

Tony focused again on the interview when he heard his name. Apparently the whole fifteen-and-MIT issue ended up in his persona.

"Do people compare you often to Tony Stark?"

"I've read articles that drew some comparisons between the two, yeah, but uh…"- she made a face and shook her head no.

"You don't think you two are similar in a way?"

"Well, yeah, sure: MIT, genius, Stark Industries, GeoTech…" –she listed swatting her hands left and right like it didn't matter-. "But we specialize in very different fields, and his accomplishments surpass mine by far."

Wait a minute… GeoTech? This woman was Manfredi? Immy Manfredi? The mind behind the Galilei Project? The automotive satellites? Before he could realize, Tony was up and with his nose barely a feet away from the screen. Things were starting to make sense in his head.

"What are you suggesting, Banner? - He asked with his eyes still on the TV.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just saying. You need high precision. That happens to be her area of expertise."

"So what, I should just call her and ask for help?" – Tony asked sounding slightly angered. Of all his titles, genius was the one he wore with more pride, and the idea of asking someone else's help, with his armors of all things, made him bitter.

"No. I should call her and ask her if you tagging along is acceptable.''

At that Tony snapped around to look at Bruce with an open mouth.

"You should call her? – He asked pointing his index finger first at the laptop and then to the TV-. "Banner you sly dirty dog! You have a hot date with the girl of the moment?!"

"It's not like that!" – Bruce clarified quickly, pushing his eyeglasses up his nose flustered-. "She used to be my student."

"That's even dirtier. Did she ever ask nicely for a pass?" – Tony joked earning a scolding face from Bruce-. "Easy, tiger. Just joking."

"I'll call you first thing in the morning."- Banner reached for his own laptop ending the call.

The billionaire was left alone in the dark room. He turned around the chair where the clothes he used as a pajama were before and straddled it, going back to the interview still going on.

"Have you ever met the man?"

"No. I saw him a couple of times at company parties when I was working on my internship at Stark Industries, but that's it."

"What would you say to him if you met him tomorrow?"

"Thank you?" –She opened her eyes wide like it was the obvious response-. "You know, thank you for saving the world from an alien invasion and for the arc reactor technology. That makes him two-time world savior, so thank you very much." – She finished looking into the camera like she was talking to him.

The crowd cheered and the host agreed with her on the fact that he had certainly earned the pat on the shoulder.

"And yet he has encountered opposition when trying to launch his clean energy system. Both from governments and companies. Do you have anything to say about that?"

"Well, it comes with the territory, you know? When you come up with something new your competition will try to make your life miserable to the point where you give up. It doesn't matter, the people want clean, cheap energy. In GeoTech we use Stark Technology as an alternative power source for our satellites in case our own automotive system fails. And arc reactors power our factories, offices and buildings all over the world. To the ones causing trouble for this new type of energy I only have one thing to say: work hard, pay your employees good salaries, invest in research and development and nobody will step up and do your job for you."

The audience hooted and clapped their agreement while Tony Stark smirked in the silence of his Malibu mansion. She was damn right. It was always nice to hear other great minds approve of your work. He stood up setting aside the chair.

"JARVIS, you up, buddy?"- He asked lounging on the big suede armchair by the window.

"For you always, sir."

"Give me a background check for one Imogen Manfredi." – He took one of his transparent graphene tablets from the side table while the AI loaded the info onto the windows' surface in front of him.

"Imogen Agnes Manfredi…"

"Jeez…"- Tony wrinkled his face at hearing the whole name. She was right to joke about it. It was a bit too much.

"... 28, born in Los Angeles, California. Orphan. Raised by nuns at The Maria Stark Foundation Hospice. Awarded with the Maria Stark Foundation Scholarship at the age of fifteen…"

So long nothing Tony hadn't learn already from the interview.

"What did she do to get the scholarship?"

"She blacked out the western seaboard, sir."

"She what now?" – Tony stopped his scrolling on the tablet.

"According to the records she built her own magnetic induction accelerator inside the hospice's vault. It was a success, but it damaged the electrical grid severely."

"She likes her magnets, doesn't she?"

Tony was admittedly impressed that someone could do such a reckless but genius thing at such short age. He certainly hadn't done anything like that back then. He built DUMM-E instead…

And maybe she didn't save the planet coming up with a source of clean and unlimited energy, but what she did was pretty awesome too. Now, using magnetism to generate mechanical input that was later transformed into energy that could be used to power any system was nothing new. But what she did… Boy that was new. She didn't use magnetism as a means to power a vehicle. Magnetism itself was the vehicle. As he read in the articles that JARVIS was dumping into his tablet, her company was big in Europe, Asia, Africa and Oceania, where Galilei had been up and running for a while now. It was a global navigation satellite system, but far more advanced than the Russian GLONASS or the American GPS. The Galilei positioning system was high-precision, intended primarily for civilian use –unlike the more military orientated systems of the US and Russia-, and always updated to the second.

"She obtained various degrees, specializing in Aerospace Engineering, Materials Science and Physics. Upon her graduation she was offered an internship program at Stark Industries, which she accepted and completed. After that she enrolled at Culver University, where she obtained her PhD in Biotechnology."

"Wait, back up. She was never hired at Stark Industries? How come?"

He scrolled up and down trying to find a work contract in the company's archive, but he couldn't find any after her internship. It wasn't like his HR Department to just let slip someone with her credentials. Only the best obtained the internship, and it was only a bureaucratic step before the formal and final contract.

"She was offered a position with a six-figure salary in the late Missile Development Program, sir, but she refused."

"Why?"

"There's no information on the matter."

"How many people have refused a job in the history of the company?"

"Just the one."

Tony scoffed and dropped the tablet back onto the side table and slumped against the back cushions of the armchair. People would kill Jesus Christ for a job in Stark Industries and she refused to work with them? He could understand if she refused them to accept a better offer elsewhere, but that wasn't the case.

"After Culver University she moved to Europe where she founded her project. GeoTech went public two years ago, and the Galilei Project is scheduled to reach full operation in 2014 with its effective implementation in the United States. As of today Galilei counts on thirty in-orbit spacecraft, four ground control centers, five telemetry, tracking and control stations, several worldwide distributed mission data uplink stations…"

JARVIS kept informing him on the specifics of Manfredi's company, but Tony wasn't listening anymore. If she went public two years ago it made sense that he didn't recognized her on TV. For the last two years he was too busy being Iron Man full time, trying not to die poisoned by his own arc reactor, dealing with Stark Expo, Vanko, SHIELD, the Avengers… He was out of the party scene and made Pepper CEO of Stark Industries, so of course he missed on Manfredi's public takeoff. What didn't make sense whatsoever was refusing a position in his company or letting the United States for last in her launch campaign. Could those two apparent bad decisions be related? An hour ago he wasn't so sure about setting a meeting but now he was curious about the whole deal. He could give her that. He stood and, with a last look, discarded the information extended on the glass panels moving his hands lazily in the air.

He walked to the bed and lied belly down without a care. His arms open on both sides of his head. The screen behind him finally turned off.

"Imogen." – He whispered in the dark silence with his face squashing against the silky sheets.

He had never met someone with that name before and wasn't sure how to pronounce it.

"Imogen..."