Tony Stark removed his tinted sunglasses in one smooth motion. He was faced with ten sets of the most high-tech recording equipment imaginable. They knew he only accepted the best by now. He'd come entirely unprepared for his interview, but that was the way he liked it. He'd downed the last of his margarita just minutes prior to entering the studio and he was feeling his confidence soar, if possible, even higher in it's after effects.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr Tony Stark!" The voice of Tony's interviewer for the night boomed. He was a middle-aged, wrinkling fellow with a stern, yet welcoming face. Tony thought he could cope with this one.
Plastering a smile on his face, Tony greeted the interviewer whose name eluded him. He gave a swift wave to the audience, and scattered a wink here and there at the women in the crowd. Once a flirt, always a flirt, Tony thought with a smirk.
He heard the wolf whistles emanate from the crowd as he strutted to the interview chair, sunglasses in hand, just in case.
Tony Stark was a confident, if slightly arrogant man, but why shouldn't he be? He was an innovative creator, and in the minds of the public; somewhat of a superhero.
Tony fell into the squashy chair provided especially for him, lounging ostentatiously. He cast a paranoid look around the room out of habit, it'd been some time since he'd been challenged in any way, and he didn't like to take chances.
"Tony?" The face of the interviewer blurred into focus in front of Tony. He'd completely drifted off from the present.
"Sorry Conan!" Tony boomed, remembering the man's name. "You shouldn't have such attractive ladies in the audience, they can be… distracting." He grinned at the crowd.
Right on cue, the audience erupted into laughter at Tony's scandalous behaviour. He shot them another flirtatious look.
"Well, well Tony. A tiger can never change its stripes, I see." Conan laughed heartily. Was Tony the only person who could see how fake it was?
Tony forced a smile in return. "The tied-down life just wasn't for me, Conan."
Tony was lying again, of course. Out of respect for Pepper and her wishes for them to remain a secret, he continued his outlandish and often disrespectful behaviour. Not that he minded particularly. It was much easier to wear this mask in front of the crowd.
"So I take it the recently famous Pepper Potts didn't quite hit the right buttons?" Conan asked intently. The noise of the audience quietened.
Tony's mask splintered for the tiniest second, before he recomposed himself and gave them his booming laugh. "Oh she hit the right buttons, alright. But as you so perfectly phrased it, a tiger can't change its stripes, can it Conan?"
Tony laughed bitterly, a tiger might not be able to change its stripes, but it could find its very own tigress.
Conan smirked, evidently pleased that it was him who'd offered this catchphrase that Tony Stark had repeated. Tony's smile faltered, and he longed for the comforting mask of his suit.
As though Conan had read his mind, he exclaimed; "So what about this everybody, we have our very own superhero in the studio!"
The applause from the crowd threatened to deafen Tony, and he felt the aftermath of tonight's alcohol gurgle threateningly in his stomach.
"Superhero is a slight too common label for me, Conan. I prefer revolutionist, or peace enforcer." Tony murmured lazily. He was beginning to get sick of these interviews.
The remainder of the interview passed uninterestedly. Tony offered a witty response where he saw fit, and that seemed to keep the crowd pleasantly occupied and enthralled.
When it was eventually over, Tony sauntered off stage to eruptions of applause and whistles, but he didn't acknowledge any of them. He saw only the face of his beautiful assistant, Pepper Potts awaiting him. She smiled in a way that assured him his behaviour was okay.
"Miss Potts" Tony acknowledged, pulling her into a hug. Nothing strange or odd about that.
"Mr Stark" Pepper replied, casting him a warning look. He shrugged his shoulders in response, nonplussed.
Tony felt a light tap on his left shoulder, and turned to see who his new congratulator was. It was Rhodes. Tony hadn't expected him to be here.
"Nice of you to show, Rhodes. Offering some moral support?" Tony murmured in his ear.
"We have a problem, Tony. Hostages are being held in a warring village in Nigeria, the military can't go in without assent." Rhodes looked uncomfortable.
"You want me to go." Tony presumed delightedly. He hadn't had a mission for his suit in a while, other than using it to ostentatiously fly about Malibu.
"Well, you know I'd go, but since you won't let me have one of your suits again…" Rhodes paused hopefully. Tony shook his head, laughing. "I figured as much."
"I'm on it." Tony announced, already keen to feel the surge of power his suit gave him. That was when he felt at his most comfortable, that was when he felt at home. He was iron man.