"Stress-free environment, huh?" Bruce glanced at Tony, rubbing his head.
Tony shrugged. "You're fine aren't you? Then quit complaining."
Bruce Banner smirked and stepped back to the computer, wiping his brow. He was thankful for the well-placed air conditioning vents in the rebuilt Stark Towers; the week had been more mentally and physically demanding than any project he'd taken on before. The New York summer air lay heavily on the streets, and it was good to be able to watch the squalor happen from two-hundred stories away. He nudged some papers aside on the smooth glass table top and reached for his soldiering iron, flipping a switch on one of the table's slender aluminum legs.
"I'm fine, but if you have a short like that in one of your servos during flight you won't be. It won't slap me in the face; it'll throw you into a building." Bruce removed one of the panels and set it on the table with a low metallic clank. "That is a lot lighter."
Tony Stark nodded. "When am I ever wrong?"
"I'll ask Pepper,"
Tony wiped the satin black metal with a cloth, admiring their handiwork. "A nickel rhodium alloy was definitely the way to go instead of that old gold titanium fuselage. Should return a marginally smaller radar cross section, and it looks pretty neat too."
Bruce lifted the panel he had removed back in place. Tony clicked his tongue and pointed, and as robotic arms secured the plate of armor Bruce crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "You still haven't really told me why this is necessary. Why now; why do you still need one of these?"
Tony's mouth twisted slightly as he scoured his mind for the right words. "The truth is, I don't. Fury kept calling me about some new threat, and I just couldn't care less. I thought that after New York and Killian I qualified for retirement,"
"But with Fury, you're never retired," Bruce finished.
"That's apparently how he sees it." Tony threw a blueberry into his mouth.
Bruce pressed on. "Why you, though? No offense, but why couldn't S.H.I.E.L.D. handle this? Without your glow-in-the-dark pacemaker I would have thought Fury would call on Rogers or the Hawk."
"Apparently I'm the best qualified for the job. Besides, Barton's off in some foreign country on reconnaissance, and the Cap' is somewhere that Fury wouldn't disclose."
Bruce waited. He could tell there was something else.
Tony turned and twisted some virtual dials on the screen. "And I may or may not have gotten robbed," He paused. "I'll give you a hint; I did."
Bruce suddenly remembered. Stark Industries' main research facility in Malibu had been broken into by a group of heavily-armed and specially trained men. The security didn't stand a chance, and an EMP burst had disabled all of the main surveillance cameras, so only a single blurred frame displaying a partially armored figure was recovered. Digitally enhanced and color adjusted, the armor appeared to be another Iron Man impersonator, but this one was clearly more advanced. Witnesses say they saw the man fly through the roof of the facility carrying a mysterious crumpled lump of equipment. The lump was later identified to be the remnants of the partially destroyed Extremis suit, which had been on display in the lobby. Upon further analysis of the facility's system mainframe, it was discovered that a major portion of the J.A.R.V.I.S. script had been copied and stolen.
"Has S.H.I.E.L.D. located this guy?" He asked.
Tony scoffed. "They tried. But I've never been one to wait around for other people. I like to do my own stuff," He motioned to Bruce, who stepped over near the screen. "See that? A whole lot of weird deliveries are being made to that specific quadrant in the Colorado Rockies. That's what I really need this suit for; to get down there and see what's going on."
"When are you planning on going?" Bruce stepped towards a separate screen, swiping his hand to raise a holographic version of the suit.
"Tomorrow," Tony said, turning from the screen. "People have taken my stuff before, and a lot of innocents got hurt. I'm not going to stand around on hold while S.H.I.E.L.D. lets it happen again."
"Wake up, J.A.R.V.I.S. It's game day." Tony tapped the screen. "And I need to try on the new uniform." A cylindrical pillar in the middle of the room split and opened a chamber, revealing his latest creation. The floor panel he was standing on lifted and folded, enclosing his feet in satin black boots. The low light of the room glinted off of the angular plates, casting a gauzy glow on the floor. Robotic arms reached out and encased Tony's legs, and the circular glow at his chest returned as the torso armor was secured shut. A smaller, more lightweight arc reactor was now housed within the chest armor. More mechanical extremities hovered over the armor, securing plates and piecing the suit together. All of the incendiary weapons such as the smart missiles had been removed. To compensate, the repulsors had been uprated to operate substantially more efficiently and now had multiple combat functions.
Bruce stepped back, a satisfied grin across his face. This was actually going to work. Everything happened effortlessly, flawlessly, and exactly according to plan. Tony stepped away from the robotic apparatus in the pillar, the final pieces of the suit clicking as they closed. The face of the helmet dropped with a low clank, and the eyes lit up.
"I'll be on radio," Bruce said.
With a high-pitched metallic scrape, vents on the greaves sprung open. "I'll be listening." Tony said. The foot repulsors ignited, exhaust gases shooting from the vents. Ports in the ceiling quickly opened and Tony lifted off into the early morning sky.