The Asgardian gave her a toothy smile as he drew a circle in the air between them with his index finger, a ring of light tracing its movement. When the light had formed a complete circle, a scene from a press conference not long after her attack began to play out, showing Aldrich Killian and Megan's doppelgänger shaking hands with the news title 'Stark Industries partnership with Advanced Idea Mechanics' emblazoned below them. "You have your body back, but I imagine you will want to reclaim your life from your doppelgänger and will want revenge for the atrocities this 'Aldrich Killian' did to you. I will help you, Megan, on the condition that you will be my ally from this day forward."
Incorruptible
By: Eva Grimm
Chapter Two: The Embrace of Demons
"When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It's where my demons hide — it's where my demons hide."
Imagine Dragons, Demons
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Iron Man, Tony Stark, or any other Marvel intellectual property. Incorruptible is a fan-based work and not sold for profit.
***SPOILER ALERT: Spoilers for any Marvel movie and comic book — they're going to happen. You've been warned.
Friday, December 31st, 1999 11:47p, CET | Bern, Switzerland
"Ms. Stark, may I have a moment of your time?"
Megan stealthily and quickly breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, a futile attempt to manage her nerves, which had become quite frayed over the course of the evening. It's not their fault, she intoned to herself, a silent mantra she had been repeating throughout the night. The nineteen-year-old had slowly begun to become more of a public figure since her time as a teacher's assistant for one of her M.I.T. classes, having recognized that being more of a 'people person' would help her in social situations, but there was only so much she could handle in a given period of time. Regrettably, she had reached her limit about a half hour ago.
"Yes, you may, sir," she robotically replied, resigning herself to going through the process of meeting someone new for what felt to her the thousandth time that evening. Her companions, Maya Hansen and Happy Hogan, came to a halt together with the young woman and turned with her to face the newcomer.
"Thank you," Ho Yinsen replied, seeing that he had acquired her attention. The middle-eastern man gestured to his own companion, a somewhat aged, Chinese gentleman. "I would like to introduce you to our guest, Dr. Wu."
Megan lit up a bit upon seeing the doctor and stuck out her hand for a handshake, a gesture which Wu accepted with an approving expression as she said, "A pleasure to meet you, doctor. Am I correct in presuming that you are the same Dr. Wu who is doing some work with my mother's charity?"
"Indeed, I am, and it is a pleasure to meet you as well," he replied with a slight smile. "Your mother often speaks of you and always with great affection. She was especially proud of your recent graduation from M.I.T. Double master's degrees in four years, am I correct? Mechanical and Electrical Engineering and Computer Science?"
"Ah yes," Yinsen interjected. "Ms. Stark's work with integrated circuits during her time at the institute was why I invited her to speak here tonight."
And why I want to hear her thoughts about how to fix the problems with Extremis… Maya thought to herself, as she watched the young woman blush under the praise of the two men.
"You're too kind. Thank you," Megan replied, her eyes darting over to her companions. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I promised Ms. Hansen some of my time. And, err, to be honest, I'm not the best with crowds."
"Not at all," Yinsen said, his and Wu's posture showing no offense was taken. "Thank you again for your inspiring speech, Ms. Stark."
Anxious to get to relative solitude, Megan turned to Happy, latched onto his arm, and muttered just loud enough for him to hear, "I really want to get inside now, please."
"Of course," Happy replied with a knowing expression as he deftly began to steep her through the crowd, Maya following in their wake.
"Finally," the teen said as the trio turned the corner, bringing the elevators to Maya's room into view, a mere couple of yards away. I have never been so happy to see an elevator in my life!
She had not escaped yet, however. "Hey, Megan!" a nearby male voice cried out, eliciting a visible cringe from the petite genius.
"Elevator, Happy," she muttered to her bodyguard before plastering a fake smile onto her face and turning to the approaching man. "That's my name," she quipped, her eyebrows rising at the sight of him. His blazer and t-shirt combo, the latter of which was emblazoned with a logo proclaiming 'A.I.M.,' was the sort of mixture of casual and classy that worked on some people but, in her opinion, simply didn't on him. Overall, he had a very geeky appearance, due in no small part to his over-sized glasses and long, unkempt blonde hair. Compared with the rest of the hotel's occupants, who were largely dressed fashionably for the New Year celebration, he stood out like a sore thumb. Happy smoothly moved to the elevators and hit the 'up' button, but as fate would have it, the closest of the six elevators was nearly ten flights away.
"Aldrich Killian," the man proudly introduced himself with a toothy smile as he walked over, his back hunched over as he used a crutch to support what appeared to be a weak leg. Once he reached the two women, he grabbed Megan's hand and beginning to shake it without her consent. She seized up, her eyes wide and locked onto him, a hint of panic in them. "I'm a big fan of your work."
"Y-y-you're too kind," she automatically responded before she managed to collect her wits and snatched her hand away from him like she had been burned by his touch.
If Aldrich had noticed her reaction, which he certainly might not have given his obvious lack of social grace, he didn't show it as he blithely continued, his eyes moving to the side and locking onto the older woman beside her. "And Maya Hansen! My organization has been tracking your research since year two of M.I.T." He immediately grabbed her hand and began to shake it as he had Megan's, eliciting a bewildered look from the straight-haired brunette.
A light 'ting' rang out as the elevator arrived. Salvation! Megan internally cheered. "Gotta go," the teen muttered, already hustling over to the elevator. "Happy New Year and what not."
Maya quickly followed the raven-haired woman into the elevator, Happy having held the door for her, but although the bodyguard immediately moved to stand in the way of the entrance once Maya had passed, Aldrich ducked under the man's outstretched arms, slipping into the elevator just in time.
"Ah," Megan said, miraculously resisting the urge to rudely groan as the elevator smoothly slid into motion upwards. "You made it." She fidgeted as the blonde-haired man's eyes locked onto her once more, his somewhat stalker demeanor and persistence beginning to creep her out.
Happy didn't miss the look on his charge's face. He fixed the overly exuberant Aldrich with a scowl as he maneuvered himself between him and Megan. "What floor you going to, pal?"
"Well now, that is an appropriate question," Aldrich remarked with a chuckle as he began to blindly fish around in his inner jacket pocket, his eyes never leaving Megan's sky blue orbs. "The ground floor, actually, of a proposal I'm putting together myself. It's a privately funded think tank called 'Advanced Idea Mechanics.'" Finally finding what he was searching for, he withdrew two business cards and practically thrust them at the two women, each embossed with a logo prominently featuring the acronym 'A.I.M.'
"She'll take both," Megan responded as she backed away from his outstretched arm, eyeing the business card dubiously. Maya gave the younger woman a bemused expression, clearly more at ease with their collective situation, and took both of the cards from the exuberant Aldrich.
"'Advanced Idea Mechanics,' or 'A.I.M.' for short. You get it?" he proudly noted, pointing out the obvious.
"Yeah, I see that 'cause it's on your t-shirt," the raven-haired woman remarked, her efforts to remain civil beginning to erode.
"Haaa!" Aldrich laughed, drawing his laugh out as the elevator finally slid to a halt and opened its doors onto the floor where Maya's hotel room was. Happy moved to the exit, planting one foot in the doorway and using his large frame to cause the blonde-haired man to take a step back, clearing the way for the petite Megan. "You'll call, right?" he asked as she hastily began to slip out of the elevator, carefully keeping Happy between them. "Right?"
A myriad of emotions running through her, anger in particular crackling within her like a lightning storm, she turned to him and regarded him with cold blue eyes as she icily remarked, "No."
"N-no?" the blonde-haired man repeated, as if he were unsure that was what she had said.
"Oh good, and here I was thinking you couldn't take a hint," she bit back, eliciting a shocked look from Maya and a knowing look from Happy, who was aware that she'd reached her limit. "I've been trying to get that across to you from the moment you just walked up to me and started to shake my hand without my consent. I see now that I should've just taken the direct approach. So just to be clear: I. Am. Not. Interested." With that said, the raven-haired woman turned on her heel, glanced for the briefest of moments at the signs indicting which rooms were where, and began to stalk off towards the room number Maya had mentioned to her earlier.
Aldrich watched her depart, slack-jawed and unresponsive, still standing in the elevator. Maya shook herself out of her stupor and quickly dashed off after the younger woman as she withdrew her room's keycard from her purse.
Happy fixed the man with a fierce expression as he said, "If I see you again tonight, I'll call the gendarmes and tell them you've been stalking her. Understood?"
"R-r-right," Aldrich stammered, his gaze snapping up to the bodyguard's eyes. "U-understood."
With that said, Happy moved into the hallway, withdrawing his foot from the elevator doorway, letting it close between them.
Maya rounded the corner and nearly ran into Megan, who had abandoned her journey to the older woman's room in favor of pacing back and forth. "Sorry, Maya, but at this point, I think it would be best if we did this another time," the petite genius said, her pacing continuing without falter. "I'm… not in the best mood for company right now."
"I… see," the straight-haired brunette replied with unconcealed disappointment. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. Are you sure I can't change your mind?" She nearly flinched when the raven-haired woman halted her pacing, her head snapping to face her as her sky blue eyes locked onto her. "Your help would be really invaluable," she added in what she hoped was a placating, rather than fearful, manner. It was odd, she decided, being afraid of a woman who was younger and smaller than her, but her fierce gaze was so piercing that one tended to forget that the raven-haired woman would be at a severe disadvantage in a physical fight.
"Fine," Megan ground out, turning on her heel once more and continued towards Maya's room as Happy finally came around the corner. "Five minutes. I'm sorry, but that's all I can give you."
Yes! Yes yes yes! Maya cheered, thanking every deity she knew of she hustled after the girl, Happy dutifully following without question.
"Happy… I can't… breathe," Megan struggled to say, her voice muffled.
"Is it Y2K?" he blurted out in panic, oblivious to her plight as he laid on top of her, having leapt to shield her with his body after the sudden, violent explosion occurred. It would have been admirable, but for the fact he was currently crushing her with his weight and suffocating her with his shoulder.
The teen attempted to reply, but she couldn't manage to so much as squeak; her air was gone. Nearby, Maya groaned as she lifted herself into a seated position on the floor, the explosion having sent her reeling to the ground. Once she'd regained her bearings, she cast her eyes about the room and froze when she saw the prone bodyguard and the young Megan pinned underneath him. "Good god, get off of her!" she exclaimed.
That caught his attention. His head whipped so hard in her direction that it's a wonder his head didn't snap clean off of his neck. "What?"
"You're suffocating her!" she replied, pointing at the floor beneath him.
The bumpy feeling of laying atop something finally reached his senses, arriving at the same time he remembered why he had leapt to the floor. "Shit!" he cried as he rolled off of the ravenette, who promptly gasped, sucking in a lungful of air. "I'm so sorry!" he said with clear concern. "I was so focused on Y2K happening that I forgot what I was doing."
"Are you kidding me?!" Maya indignantly shouted at him. "Not only do you think Y2K is still a problem and causes explosions, you also forgot you were crushing the person you're supposed to protect?!"
His head swiveled back and forth between the two women, his mouth attempting to work but no sound coming out. Eventually, Megan wearily asked, "Happy, did you… Do something to her plant?"
His head, which was facing her at that moment, stopped swiveling. "I… Err… I maybe… pulled off a leaf?"
If anything, Maya's indignation grew worse. "I told you not to touch her! She doesn't like it!"
"'She' is just a plant!" he blustered.
"She's not just a plant," Maya heatedly retorted. "She's—"
"She's a plant that has an experimental instant body regrowth serum injected in her," the teen interjected before the two of them could continue to argue. She pushed herself upright into a seated position with a soft grunt and rubbed her back along where she'd hit the ground the hardest. "So given the experimental part of that, it's generally unwise to dick around with such a plant."
Happy blinked. "Ah. That… makes sense," he supplied.
His ward gave him a look. "Yeah. So, now that we're all on the same page about what just happened… I'd really like to take a look at your formula, Maya. Like, now. I kinda want to call it a night ASAP."
"Oh!" the brunette exclaimed. "Of course, of course!" She hastily (And painfully, if the expression on her face was any indication.) pulled herself to her feet and stumbled over to the desk in the room, which had mercifully remained untouched by the explosion debacle, and slid open a drawer full of documents. The sound of shuffling paper filled the air for a moment before she released a pleased sound, crossed the room to the still seated Megan, and handed her a wad of paper held together by a binder clip.
The ravenette accepted the papers and began to flip through the papers at a rapid pace, her eyes glazed over. Maya watched with surprise and a certain degree of disbelief as she continued to breeze through the lengthy and immensely complicated formulae and intermixed notes. The teen only had eyes for the document however, and never faltered from her blistering second per page pace. Once she'd reached the end of it, she requested, "Give me a pen and one of those business cards."
The brunette immediately complied, digging the requested items out of her nearby purse before handing them to her. The younger woman took the proffered items, tiredly made her way over to the desk, cleared a space on it, and began to swiftly write on the card. The card, blessedly, was somewhat large, and after a little less than a minute, she'd laid out in cramped script a formula so complex that even a specialist in biological engineering would begin to get a headache just from looking at it.
"Here," she replied as she held out the card and pen to the brunette woman. "Bio-engineering isn't exactly my forte, but based on what you told me earlier, I imagine this should give you some ideas on how you might improve the reconstruction process."
Maya gingerly took the card, barely acknowledging the pen as her eyes locked onto the neat, albeit small, handwriting on the back of the business card, already raking hungrily across the formula Megan had provided. My god, this is brilliant! she exclaimed. I knew she was a genius, but I never would have imagined that she could produce something on this level in a field outside her specialty — much less so quickly!
The room's phone began to ring, finally tearing the bio-engineer out of her thoughts. She blinked. When did it get so bright outside? she wondered as she took notice of the sunlight streaming in through the room's balcony window. The ringing of the phone drew her attention once more, distracting her from the sudden transition from night to day. "Hello?" she answered once she'd picked up the handset and brought it to her ear.
"Guten Morgen, Ms. Hansen. This is your 11:00a wake up call," a man replied, his English bearing only the slightest accent.
"I'm sorry, what?" she asked bewildered.
There was a brief pause at the other end. "I said this is your 11:00a wake up call. You did request this, yes Ms. Hansen?"
Maya's eyes shot over to her room's alarm clock. Sure enough, the electronic screen clearly displayed '11:01a.' "Um… What's the date?"
"It is January 1st," the man dutifully replied.
Her jaw fell open. Have I really been standing here, examining this formula for eleven hours straight without realizing it? She gave her feet a test flex and cringed at the feeling. Yup. I've been standing the entire night. "Ah, right… That… makes sense. Thank you."
"It is our pleasure, Ms. Hansen. Have a good day."
"You too…" Maya trailed off as she hung up the phone, her eyes unconsciously gravitating to the formula Megan had given her, even as they began to grow heavy, finally registering that she had just pulled an unintentional all-nighter. Eventually, she tore her eyes away from the card and set it face-down on her desk so it would stop calling to her. She gave the back of the card one last glance before slowly making her way over to her bed, lightly reprimanding herself, "You need sleep first, Maya." She stripped her clothes off and slipped under the covers, softly murmuring, "Mmm," as she did so. Her last thought before she fell unconscious was of the name on the back of the card — the name of the man who had been following her research for years — and how she should give him a call.
Sunday, December 25th, 2005 10:03p, EST | Washington, D.C., an alcove near a homeless shelter
Megan snarled viciously at the sight of Aldrich Killian and her doppelgänger hanging in the air between her and Loki, the air around her crackling. "Get rid of that. Now." The trickster god frowned slightly but complied nevertheless, dispelling the image with a simple wave of his hand. Once he had, she visibly began to calm down, her breathing evening out once more and her eyes losing their steely glint. She initially began to perform a breathing exercise Bruce had shown her for anger control, but the thought of her beloved, who she had not seen in nearly half a year, caused the emotions writhing within her to spike once more, so she abandoned it altogether in favor of simply waiting out her anger. Eventually, she managed to say, "Sorry," but said nothing more.
Loki quirked an eyebrow at that, asking, "I understand the sight of your tormentors making you angry, but to lose control of yourself so quickly… Is such a reaction common among humans?"
She looked away, somewhat abashed at that. "Yes and no. Most people wouldn't react as strongly as I did, but at the same time, most people haven't been through what I have." Her sky blue eyes swiveled back to Loki. "But regarding your proposal… There are some ambiguities that I want to be clear on before I agree to anything, and one or more parts I'd like to alter, depending on your answers."
The trickster god gestured widely with a wave of his hand, easily replying, "Ask away."
"First, you said 'you will help me,' but you neither defined exactly how you will help, nor exactly what you'd be helping with. You implied the later was regaining my life from my doppelgänger as well as getting revenge on that son of a bitch Aldrich Killian, but you didn't explicitly say it. Please clarify both how you'll help and what you'll be helping with."
"Fair enough," Loki replied with a shrug that, despite the inherently informal nature of the gesture, he somehow made look elegant. "Regarding the latter, I did indeed mean what I implied, as you spelled out already. As for how I will help you… My intention is to teach you how to use your mana."
The raven-haired woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her pupils dilating in surprise. "Wait, I thought you sa—"
"What I said," he interjected with a light smirk, "is that there is variance in mana reserves among all races. I never said that you, Megan, did not have mana reserves of your own." He smoothly rose from his feet, and began to slowly close the gap between them, his pale green eyes focused intently on her sky blue orbs. "Surely you have noticed it before? You unconsciously tapped into it mere moments ago, when your anger spiked at the sight of Killian."
"The electricity?" Megan asked with a start. "But the Allfather said it was a side effect of Mjölnir. He never said it was me who was magical."
"The Allfather says many things," Loki said with a frown, coming to a halt in front of her, "most of which is what he deems you should hear — not the truth as a whole." His eyebrow quirked slightly as a small smirk grew out of his prior frown. "I learned from the best."
The raven-haired woman growled lightly in indignation. He could be lying, but what he's saying makes sense. "I see." She cocked her head lightly to the side, her eyes lightly glazed over. "I can feel it in me again, but… Why couldn't I feel it while I had the male body?"
"As I said earlier, 'being true to oneself is important.' Connection to one's mana requires full acceptance of every aspect of oneself. So long as your mind rejected your body, your mana was beyond your reach."
She hummed at that before casting her gaze down at her hands, which she laid in her lap, palm face-up. She closed her eyes and began to concentrate, her eyelids fluttering lightly as she attempted to summon up the electricity she felt coursing within her. After a minute of fruitless attempt, she opened her eyes, a frown on her lips. "I don't understand… Why can't I summon it up?"
"You aren't listening closely enough, you fool," Loki bit out snappily, catching her off guard.
"I dare you to say that again," she sharply retorted with a snarl before realizing with a shock that the air around her was crackling with electricity.
"Ah, there we are," the trickster god replied with a toothy smile, all traces of his earlier tone gone. "It just took a little push. Though what I said before was true, albeit necessarily harsher said than it needed to be, since I wanted to give you a hint about the answer. Now then: Do you see why you had trouble calling on your mana?"
I wasn't angry before, but why would that matter? Megan asked herself. Earlier this year, I was able to call on it without being angry… What's changed between then and now? Obviously I was stuck in a male body for almost six months, but how is that tied to the need for anger?
"Being true to oneself is important."
Ah, I see. "I've changed," she said aloud as she found the answer. "I'm… angrier than I used to be. Understandably so, I would say, but the point is that I haven't really come to terms with that change."
"Very good," Loki said, his voice smooth as honey. "You have to accept yourself for who you are — who you truly are — in order to use your mana reserves."
"I still don't understand something though: I didn't start spouting electricity until after I took up Mjölnir. So why wasn't I showing signs of magic when I was younger? Could it really have been something as simple as not being in-tune with myself?"
"Do not mistake me: Mjölnir did have an impact on the nature of your mana, but it did not create mana reserves within you. Such an effect is well beyond the power of even the most masterfully crafted magical weapons. The hammer merely freed what you had long kept locked away and left its touch upon the nature of it." Megan accepted his answer with a thoughtful nod, falling silent for a minute as she mulled over the information. Eventually, Loki asked, "Do you accept my deal?"
"Don't be hasty, Loki," she drawled, her awareness focused on him once more. "I told you I wished to change a provision, did I not?" He quirked his eyebrow and gave her a light smile but neither said or did anything more. She rolled her eyes at that, standing from the chair she had been seated in so she could face him eye-to-eye (Or as close as she could, given their height disparity.). "You and your tests," she muttered before continuing at a normal volume. "The condition for your help was that I be your ally from today on. I would like the condition to instead be that we will be allies from this day forward."
He scowled at that, his pale green eyes narrowing, though in truth, he was quite pleased with how the conversation was unfolding. He was merely playing the part he must in order to test her. "I hardly see how that is a balanced exchange. My restoration of your body was provided to satisfy my life debt to you, and my offer of assistance ought be balanced by you becoming my ally. Why would I agree to become your ally in turn? Where is the equivalency?"
"You're presuming that your assistance is adequate payment for my becoming your ally," she retorted easily, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "In truth, it is not. You are offering a specific favor with a definite end point and expecting me, in return, to be your 'ally from this day forward,' which is an unspecific favor and has no end point. Hardly fair, Loki. Tsk tsk," she finished lightly, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes as she cocked her hip and crossed her arms under her breasts (Once again relishing the fact that she had her hard-won body back.).
Yes! I knew coming here tonight was the right decision, he thought to himself, a secretive smile growing on his lips. She's shrewd, intelligent, and has a strong potential for mana use. Having her on my side will be key, if I'm going to have even the slightest hope of escaping Thanos' wrath. "You make a fair point, Megan," he replied. "We agree to be allies with one another from this day forward. My assistance with your training in the use of mana will simply be my first act as your ally. Do we have an accord?" He held out his hand to her, his palm up and inviting her to take it.
Megan's sky blue eyes glazed over as she ran through potential scenarios and the pros and cons, but they remained locked onto the pale green of his own eyes, her gaze never faltering. If we're both allies with one another, then neither can actively betray the other without losing an ally. There are tons of reasons why he could want me as an ally: The most likely incentive is that he gets to remove the roadblock I've been to his plans and instead use me to his advantage for once. That's especially likely given the context of why he researched me in the first place.
Eventually, the glaze vanished as her lips curled into a smile of her own. "We have an accord, Loki. We shall be allies with one another from this day forward." She accepted his hand with her own, laying her hand upon his as a lady would a lord.
He gently lifted her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss upon the back of her hand, causing her cheeks to lightly dust with pink. "So mote it be," he declared before lifting his eyes to hers, his smile twisting into a grin. "Well then. Shall we begin your training, milady?"
Thursday, July 14th, 2005 02:00p, EST | Washington, D.C.
The room was packed to the brim, just as like it had been for the last committee hearing involving Megan Stark and her "Iron Woman" (As the media still incessantly referred to it.) armor. At the front of it, on a raised dais, was a dark, wooden desk nearly as long as the room was wide, reserved especially for the U.S. Senate Armed Forces Committee. Stern sat at the center of the desk, perched upon his leather chair as though he were royalty (Which he doubtlessly thought of himself as.), and on both of his sides sat a succession of men and women professionally dressed who looked on with a mixture of expressions ranging from the painfully serious to the playfully uncaring. A small gap was left between the dais and the long, though not nearly as much as the committee's table, wooden table where Doppelgänger sat in wait, facing the table of senators before her. Standing next to her, whispering in her ear, was the sharply dressed Aldrich Killian, his one hand resting on the woman's shoulder while the other was left in the light gray pants of his suit. These desks were where the action would be, the remainder of the room separated from them by a divider of dark wood and reserved for attendees of the hearing, such as public figures, the press, and the general public.
"This meeting will come to order," Senator Stern called out in a formal voice, banging his gavel to dispel the noise of the many attendees.
"Good luck," the blonde-haired Aldrich murmured into her ear before pulling himself upright and slipping past the barrier to sit in the area designated for the general public. She smiled faintly. Luck is hardly necessary. The plan is solid, and I've prepared myself for this: For becoming Megan Stark. Happy Hogan didn't notice anything amiss, and he's one of the original Megan's oldest friends. Iam Megan Stark. The only thing I need luck for is dealing with this ridiculous farce of a "public hearing." These fools aren't looking out for the public's safety; they're looking to consolidate power. Her smile grew wider at that. They've been beaten to the punch.
"Ms. Stark," Stern continued, leaning forward into the microphone, his posture calculated to appear imposing. In truth, he was creating the opposite impression: His pudgy frame, receding hairline, and lightly wrinkled face, when combined with his posturing, gave him a rather laughable air. "For the record, do you still possess the weapon widely known as the 'Iron Woman?'"
"I'm flabbergasted that you haven't done your research, Senator," Doppelgänger began, crossing her arms beneath her bust and re-crossing her legs beneath the table. Her black and white pinstriped suit smoothly adjusted to her movements, nary a wrinkle forming; the product of fashion perfection. "If you had, then you would know that I am the 'Iron Woman,' not my high-tech prosthesis; that my prosthesis is exactly that: a prosthesis, not a weapon; and that yes, I still have my prosthesis in my possession." Embrace technicalities and create a show. The crowd as a whole laughed at her taking the senator to task, just as she had once before. The balance of popular opinion was already swinging in her favor.
Stern's eyes narrowed as he took a deep, calming breath. He knew the committee had the power (And since it was in his pocket, he therefore had the power.) to take the day here, but he needed to maintain control, or this would become yet another public relations nightmare. And that would displease his benefactors. "This committee has already made its position known on the 'Iron Woman' weapon being a weapon — not a prosthetic, as you would like us to believe. We are not interested in the semantics of whether you or the armor should be called the 'Iron Woman.' Furthermore, the purpose of my question was state the facts for the record; I am well aware of the fact that you still maintain possession of the weapon in question. Now, the last time you were before this committee, you were permitted to retain possession of this weapon because you were under the direct supervision of the government entity known as the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, a.k.a. S.H.I.E.L.D." He lifted a piece of paper with one hand and lightly rapped it with two fingers of his other hand, causing a dull snap to echo into the microphone. "I have here a burn notice from S.H.I.E.L.D. that indicates you are no longer an agent of that agency."
At that announcement, a torrent of whispers erupted throughout the crowd watching the meeting. Stern did nothing to silence them, his mouth slowly twisting into a scarcely noticeable grin. She may have made the first move of the meeting, but he had just retaliated with a brutal move of his own. Smugly, he waited for her reply.
After nearly a minute, Doppelgänger lightly quipped, "I'm sorry, but you seem to be waiting for something. Is it an answer from me? If so, was there a question in your statement, or are you not paying attention to the words coming out of your own mouth?" Be brash and adversarial when confronted.
The senator scowled at that, adjusting his red and white patterned tie as he coughed, realizing that he had in fact been waiting for a question he'd failed to ask. "What do you have to say regarding this burn notice, Ms. Stark?"
"It was time we parted," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly, the movement accentuating the plunging neckline of her ruby red blouse and the ample cleavage it displayed. "They refused to pick up after themselves and wanted me to do all the dirty work. That just won't do." She looked backwards over her shoulder, a broad smirk adorning her face. "Typical, right ladies?" If pressed, avoid the question through humor. Appeal to the crowd.
A dull roar echoed throughout the packed chamber as the women present shouted their approval while the men variously laughed, rolled their eyes, or did nothing. Unwilling to let her use the crowd to her advantage, Stern slammed his gavel against the desk, while shouting into the microphone, "Order! I will have order!" It was several moments before silence finally settled over the crowd, at which point he said, "Let me be more specific, Ms. Stark: Why did you not relinquish the 'Iron Woman' weapon once S.H.I.E.L.D. revoked your agent status?'
She gave him a winning smile. "If I hadn't, then you wouldn't have called me here, and I wouldn't have received such a wonderful opportunity to do this:" She stood from her seat, turned to the crowd, focused onto one of the cameras aimed her way, and boldly said, "President Ellis, sir, I would like an opportunity to speak with you regarding my desire to serve at the behest of this great nation as a tool for achieving and maintaining world peace." The crowd erupted in a frenzy as cameras flashed and reporters shouted questions to her. She twisted on her heel and snatched the mic off of the desk, giving the now pale Senator Stern a truly wicked grin "And furthermore," she yelled, so her amplified voice could be heard over the crowd, "until I have heard the President's word on this matter, both I and Stark Industries refuse to relinquish my property, as is my constitutional right as an American citizen." She turned to the crowd once more, the mic in one hand as she thrust the other into the air, her index and middle fingers forming a peace sign. "To world peace!" Issue ultimatums. Appeal to the crowd. And now that I've named Stark Industries as complicit, Potts will have me in her office within the day.
The purple faced Stern angrily and repeatedly bashed his gavel, but the crowd refused to be silenced. Doppelgänger tossed the mic back onto the table and strode towards the exit, twin peace signs held up as she departed to mass, vocal approval. As she walked past, Aldrich slipped into the aisle with her, following in her wake with a smug grin on his lips. In the back of the room, Phil Coulson watched the duo depart with an analytical eye. I guess I won't need to testify against her after all, at least today. The question is, why did she call out the President? She has to realize the suit will fall into the military's hands eventually, if she goes down that route. Fury sicced this Committee on her because they would take her suit. Is she trying to taunt him by showing him she can still overcome this? I hope she knows what she's doing…
The pair made their way out of the building, people cheering as they passed, having seen the events of the committee meeting play out over the building's internal video network. "You were exceptional, love," he commented to her as they passed through the exterior doors. "Even I barely knew the difference."
She flicked his forearm, remarking with a quirked eyebrow, "Don't talk like that. You know who I am." Her message was clear: We're in public. Don't talk about me being a fake. He raised his hands in surrender, a laugh escaping him.
Nearby, Happy watched with narrowed eyes as they approached. "How did it go, Meg?" Something is still fishy about this guy… What is she thinking acting so buddy-buddy with him already? It's weird enough that he's changed so much physically (I didn't even recognize him at first, and I always remember people.), but didn't she say earlier that she found him creepy?
Doppelgänger gave him a mischievous grin, remarking, "It went well, of course." She walked up to him and gave him a hug. "O ye of little faith, Happy! My plan's going off without a hitch." Be personable with her inner circle.
Ah, now there's the Meg I know and love, the brunette thought to himself. Maybe I'm just getting worked up over nothing? "Great! Glad to hear it! I thought your luck might be bad today, after you spilled that wine on yourself."
She released him, turning to face Aldrich with a smile. "Speaking of, thank you again, Aldrich. It was sweet of you to cut your demonstration short, so I could go buy a new suit in time for the hearing."
He gave her a winning smile. "I would have been remise to leave you at a disadvantage for your hearing. Besides, you gave me an excuse to cut out all the fluff of the presentation and skip right to the meat and bones. Really, I should thank you for letting me hitch a ride with you to get here." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "The taxi drivers in this town are simply the worst."
"I know!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "But don't worry, the ones in my town are much better, but you'll see for yourself first hand when you come up for the press conference."
"The press conference?" the two men asked in confusion, Happy's genuine and Aldrich's feigned.
"The press conference," she affirmed, nodding. "Aldrich, I admit that I was unsure about this potential partnership at first, but you truly impressed me today. I'll have to speak with Pepper about it, but I can convince her to see eye-to-eye with me on this: Stark Industries and Advanced Idea Mechanics should move forward with a joint venture production of Extremis." She stuck out her hand in invitation for a handshake. "Together, we can make this world a better place."
"Wonderful!" the blond-haired man exclaimed, as though he hadn't expected such a declaration. "I'll get my people in touch with yours." He took her hand firmly in his own. "Let's save the world."
Saturday, October 28th, 2000 11:11a, EST | Miami, Florida
The work week knew no bounds for Maya Hansen. She was too close to a breakthrough for her to worry about trivial matters like time off and sleep. Her tired body protested the all-nighter she had just pulled, but she would hear nothing of it. I'm so close I can taste it! I can't stop now!
Megan's notes from their meeting in Bern had proven vital. Her progress on Extremis had nearly ground to a halt altogether before that New Year's Eve, but once she had applied the young genius' insights (Which Maya could still hardly believe had been produced in mere minutes and after little more than the briefest skim reading of a document she'd ever seen anyone perform.) to her own work, she'd immediately begun to make progress once more. Development was halting at first, as Maya had struggled to reconcile the ravenette's formula with her own, but after she'd gotten past the initial hurdles, the rate of improvement had become astonishing. The literally explosive regrowth process still released spare amounts of excess energy, but if she was right, then her latest serum formulation would be the result she'd been striving for years.
"All work and no play makes Maya a tired scientist," a voice remarked from behind and above her.
"It also makes for no progress," she off-handedly replied, earning a chuckle from the speaker, Aldrich Killian.
"True," the blonde responded as he began to make his way down the stairwell into the basement where Maya maintained her lab and workspace. He was slow and methodical, carefully using his crutch and the handrail to minimize the strain on his bad leg. "But still, you need to be careful of burning out. I can't have that happen to my lead scientist now, can I?"
The brunette didn't answer, her focus on the small, sealed glass vial she was withdrawing from the chemical compounding machine. Once the glass container was safely ensconced in a metal rack she kept nearby, she slid open a drawer and retrieved a capped syringe from inside it. With a flick, she pulled the cap off and then deftly plunged the needle into the vial, drawing out a measure of the serum within it. "Test serum 39," she announced, knowing her nearby computer was still recording an audio note. She stepped over to her latest plant test subject, her gait an odd mix of weariness and giddiness for her body and her mind were at odds about the wisdom in persisting in her endeavors without more sleep. "Applying 100 milliliters to plant test group member…" She trailed off, glancing at the number written on the pot in sharpie. "1968."
Maya slipped the syringe into the stem of the plant and depressed the plunger, injecting the serum while Aldrich watched with a small amount of anticipation, though admittedly, most of it was tempered by the tremendous number of failures. When she first called him about joining his think tank, A.I.M., he had immediately hired her on as his new lead scientist, as her past research had had a tremendously successful success record. Her latest project, Extremis, had made her something of a pariah in the scientific community, however. Besides the ethical dilemmas inherent in developing a serum that altered the way the brain handled regrowth, her efforts had only born half fruit: A serum that caused immediate reconstruction of lost body tissue but caused the subject to promptly explode afterwards. After burning through millions of dollars with the only thing to show for it a number of public failures, no research institute would take her. He saw the potential in her, though, and likewise desired to use a perfected form of the serum on himself to cure his bad leg. With the new influx of funding A.I.M. provided her, she had been able to restart her work, and although she had been making reasonably steady progress, she had yet to succeed in developing a serum that didn't release some degree of excess energy. Her dogged determination to finally remove that failing of the formula had been slowly, but surely, taking its toll.
She pulled out the syringe and tossed it into the nearby bright red sharps container with the sort of practiced ease that one could only develop through incessant repetition. The pair took a deep breath, unwittingly doing so in sync, and with a flourish, she ripped one of the plant's leaves clean off of the stem. The surface of the wound began to glow with the ominous red light that was a trademark of the Extremis regrowth process. The leaf began to steadily reform before their eyes until eventually, the entire area was whole once more, the glow dissipating with no burst whatsoever. Maya and Aldrich stared in disbelief, waiting for the other shoe to drop — for the glow to reappear without warning and flare out of the leaf.
Nothing happened.
The pair simultaneously shouted in delight. She had done it; the serum was finally finished. The brunette began to hop around, indulging her childish excitement for the moment without regard for appearances. Aldrich smiled widely and made to move over to her and join in her celebration, but he flinched and hissed in agony as the nerves in his bad leg flared up. Maya, who had since moved over to her computer and begun to type a mile a minute, remained oblivious to his plight.
He sighed softly as he redistributed his weight to more heavily favor his cane and his good leg. "Goddamn leg," he muttered angrily as he began to more carefully make his way over to the frantically typing bio-engineer. As he reached the table where she kept the chemical compounder and her computer, his eyes fell on the vial of Extremis and the still open drawer full of syringes.
Aldrich Killian was by no means a dumb man. In fact, one might call him a business savant. What he lacked in social graces and hard scientific knowledge, he made up for in spades with his ability to produce money from next to nothing, to research human resources, and to organize a business and its employees efficiently and effectively. Beyond that, he had passably knowledge regarding the hard sciences. For example, he knew that taking a syringe from that drawer, using it to extract 100 milliliters of Extremis serum, and injecting that serum into himself was unbelievably risky when it had only been tested on plants, since the serum might cause severe negative reactions up to and including death in animals, much less humans.
That didn't stop him from doing it anyway.
"Hmm?" Maya hummed when she heard a light clattering sound to her left. She turned to identify the noise and froze in absolute terror at what she saw: Her boss had a fully depressed syringe in his arm and was lightly glowing an ominous red, his cane abandoned on the floor beside him. "Aldrich!" she cried out, her eyes wide and her tone filled with panic. "My god, what have you done!"
The blonde groaned as he twisted to face her, slapping his left hand onto the table for balance as he noticeably began to tremor. "What had to be done." No sooner had the words had left his mouth, he seized up collapsed, banging the table on the way down and landing in a heap on the floor as he began to scream. It was like watching a train wreck. She couldn't look away as he began to writhe about on the ground, his scream only ending once he'd run out of air to scream with. The whole process only took a minute, but to the two of them, Aldrich with his pain and Maya her fear of what was happening, it felt like an eternity.
Eventually, Aldrich hoarsely asked, "Help me up, please?"
She burst into tears as she rushed over to him, muttering, "Stupid, stupid, stupid," as she helped the drained blonde up and into a nearby chair. "Why, Aldrich, why?"
He wearily lifted his head up, his dark blue eyes searching out her honey brown orbs. "Why, what?"
"'Why what?!'" she repeated in disbelief as she wiped at her wet eyes. "Don't be ridiculous! Why did you inject yourself with Extremis? I just had my first successful plant injection, the new formulation hasn't been tested for any unexpected side effects that haven't manifested yet, I haven't done repeat trials, and I haven't even touched human experimentation yet!"
He chuckled, his once hoarse voice already gone as though he hadn't just screamed for a solid minute. "I knew all of that. Is it so ridiculous to want to feel whole again for the first time in decades?"
"Aldrich…" she murmured mournfully.
"That's my name," he said with a laugh as he sprung to his feet with a sudden burst of energy. "Don't wear it out." It had worked: His bad leg, which had been devastated in an accident when he was a teenager nearly three decades ago, was good as new. He flexed his spine until it was upright, pulling himself out of the hunch that had become an ingrained muscle memory and up to his full height. He was in bliss; he couldn't even remember the last time he'd been able to stand like this. After a time, he brought his attention back to her, realizing that she had been watching him with unconcealed fascination. "Maya," he whispered as he relished in an altogether new sensation. For nearly as long as he could remember, people had stared at him out of pity, disgust, or some mix thereof. This though — this was different.
"You didn't explode," she replied before slapping her hand over her mouth and cringing as her unfortunate choice of words caught up with her.
He quirked an eyebrow at that. "Try not to sound too disappointed," he replied, doing his best to infuse his voice with humor to defuse the tension.
Unable to help herself, Maya giggled. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Why?" he asked, the words escaping his lips without a thought of the consequences.
The brunette gasped. "Aldrich, how could you possibly ask that?! Do you really think I want you dead?!" He glanced away abashed, but she saw the truth in his eyes. "You believed in me when no one else did, Aldrich. I… I care about you. I would never want you to die." Her voice was watery, and her eyes were still utterly bloodshot, but in his eyes, he'd never seen anyone more beautiful than her at that moment.
As has been said, Aldrich Killian was by no means a dumb man. He knew enough about love to know that he wasn't meant to receive any — himself, that is. The only thing people loved about Aldrich was his business expertise and the money he could generate with it. Furthermore, he knew that if somebody ever did show signs of feeling something even remotely akin to love about him, it would be incredibly unwise to kiss them without warning. But Maya Hansen had just told him to his face that she cared about him. He could see it in her honey brown eyes as she said it: She was telling the truth; she was genuinely glad he was okay. Now aware that she felt something akin to love for him, he knew it would be incredibly unwise to kiss her without warning.
That didn't stop him from doing it anyway.
I'm rather impulsive today, he thought to himself as he watched her reaction through half-lidded eyes as he soundly kissed her. As he watched her eyes flutter closed and felt her dissolve into the kiss, accepting it and reciprocating in kind, he found that he didn't give a damn.
Thursday, July 14th, 2005 06:11p, EST | Stark Tower, NYC
"Welcome home, Miss Stark," Jarvis intoned as Doppelgänger strode into the tower as though she had done so a million times, despite it being, in truth, her first time. "I understand the committee hearing was a smashing success in the 'keep the suit' department."
"Hi, Jarvis," she replied with a light, secretive smile. "It's a success for now, at least." She stepped into the waiting, open elevator. "Take me up to floor 73." Deal with the AI first, lest he oversee what he shouldn't.
"Right away, ma'am," her AI replied as the elevator smoothly and rapidly began to rise. "Mr. Weitzel and Dr. Banner are currently sharing dinner together in the dining area. I've told them you're here, and they're eagerly awaiting your arrival."
Well, shit, she thought to herself, unaware of how similar her reaction was to one the original Megan would have had in the same situation. Banner is with the boy… I have to remove him when he's alone. The elevator slid to a halt as it reached her desired floor, the doors opening to allow her out. Worry about that later. First things first… She strode into the hallway and began to swiftly make her way to the room she knew contained an uplink to Jarvis' central operating system. Stark Tower floors seventy-three through seventy-five, Stark Industries servers. Direct access to Jarvis the AI can be found in the last room on the right on floor seventy-three.
The locked door to the room slid open without her needing to say a word. Nothing was barred to Megan Stark in her own tower. The entire room was filled with one massive, interconnected server bank — one of Jarvis the AI's many backups. There should be multiple FireWire ports throughout the area. Any one of them will do. Her sky blue eyes scanned the room quickly, noticing one of the ports she needed within moments. As she reached into her purse and retrieved the large external hard drive and FireWire connection cable within it, she made her way over to the port. "I need you to apply the update on this hard drive to your OS, Jarvis," she called out as she connected the drive to the massive server.
"Right away, ma'am," the AI intoned without question. It took only moments for the 'update' to overtake him, given the massive horsepower of the server. "Virus applied. How may I serve?"
Doppelgänger's lips twisted into a wicked grin. Step one complete. "Spread the virus to all of your backups and delete all of the emergency OS restores."
"I live to serve," the converted AI replied as he spread the taint and purged the restores, lest they be used to easily undo the damage.
Without another word, she did a one-eighty and made her way back to the waiting elevator, stepped inside, and was whisked away, the AI already aware of where she was heading: Her next targets.
Let nothing slip. All you have to do is play it cool until everyone's asleep.
"Hey, sis," Danny called out over the top of his seemingly ever present laptop, his pale eyes seeking out her sky blue ones as she entered the dining area. "Interesting improvisation at the committee hearing. I can't argue with the results, but I don't recall 'force a meeting with the President' being a part of the plan you mentioned the other day."
She froze. Brilliant. The algorithm might be unparalleled at predicting generalized human behavior and how to mold it, but it can't predict exact thoughts and expressions.
"Sis?" the younger of the brunettes at the table questioned. "You okay?"
Play it cool. "Mhm," Doppelgänger replied, feigning a distracted air before slightly shaking he head and blinking her eyes. "Sorry, I was lost in thought for a second there," she continued as she resumed walking into the room, slipping past the two brunette men and into the kitchen to serve herself some of the lasagna they were currently eating at the table. "Long day," she added, somewhat more loudly so they could hear her in the next room.
Bruce, who had been watching the exchange, trailed her progress into the kitchen and blinked owlishly once she was out of sight. "What's up, Bruce?" Danny asked when he noticed the older man staring after her.
"Well that was odd," he replied quietly before swinging his head to face forward once more, a baffled expression still in place. Seeing the teen's curiosity, he explained, "She said she was lost in thought, but her eyes didn't glaze over. I've never seen that happen before — or not happen, rather."
"Huh. Good point," the teen agreed at a similar volume.
The subject of their brief, hushed conversation strode back in then with a plate full of lasagna and some sides. Sitting next to Bruce, she ate a bite, chewed it, and swallowed it with visible satisfaction, both because it was along the lines of what the original Megan would have done and also because she was, in truth, really rather hungry. I could hardly eat lunch, I was such a bundle of nerves this afternoon. Also, admittedly, I'm still getting used to how much my taste buds changed after the transformation… I can't even stand my favorite drink, black tea, anymore. Despite not wanting to, she laid her head on the shoulder of 'her' beau and released a sigh full of contentment, her sky blue eyes swiveling to the side and finding the younger of the brunettes — her first target, unless she decided the plan would need to change. "Anyway, to answer your earlier question," she began, lightly allowing her eyelids to slide down until shut, adding to the image of her being pleased to be laying on the man who she objectively knew could transform at any moment and rip her apart. She could naturally regrow whatever he tore off, but it was painful to have a limb forcibly removed (An experience she regrettably had undergone on purpose in order to complete her façade. She fought down a shudder at the memory.). "The idea came to me earlier when I walked past a magazine with a picture of the President on its cover."
"Well, I certainly can't deny that meeting with the President is more likely to occur, and thus buy you time, than your plan to resort to a court of appeals," the neon-green eyed brunette said with a frown, his shoulder currently covered in a mess of black and red hair. "But a couple of things threw me for a loop. First, you jumped right to 'buy time' plan after a perfunctory attempt to convince the committee that you holding onto he suit wasn't a problem. Second, Fury will be… well, furious when he hears about this, since you've told the world at large that you plan to continue using the suit, which you said you wouldn't do. And last, going through meeting the President will get you closer to the military than you ought to, given your relationship with me and that they're actively trying to get their hands on your suit."
Well, shit. The algorithm predicted the original Megan would still be at the heart of the action, yet she's apparently told her inner circle she wouldn't do that… Fuck. It took every ounce of willpower the petite genius had to not reveal any sign of her inner turmoil, but after chanting to herself once more, Play it cool, she pulled herself back upright and feigned a weary sigh. "I don't know, Bruce," she murmured as she began to idly play with the food she had retrieved from the kitchen. "If I'm being honest, I guess it wasn't exactly the greatest plan ever." Focus! He gave you a reason why this plan was good. Leverage the information you have to your advantage. "It's been a long day, and as it went on, I just got so focused on making sure I bought myself time to think of a better plan." Good — you've created a plausible reason for you to call it a night early. The original Megan has a history of being frustrated with herself when she fails at something, as these two feel I did. I can end this witch hunt. She pushed away her plate with a half frustrated, half disgusted look. "I really just want today to be over. I'm going to bed."
"Okay," Danny replied with a concerned expression. "Don't tear yourself up over it… You've handled this type of situation before, right? So you can handle it again!"
She fixed him with a sad smile, her eyes lightly misty. It's ridiculous how quickly this body is reduced to tears… Honestly! "Thanks, Danny." She turned back to Bruce, who was eyeing her oddly, and swallowed down her disgust and fear of him. "I'll see you when you come to bed," she said before brushing his lips with a quick, chaste kiss. That done, she slid out of her chair and stood up before beginning to make her way towards the elevator as quickly as she dared.
Danny's eyes inevitably zeroed in on his laptop once more, falling back into his studies with gusto. Bruce, however, was lost in thought. I've never seen her head to bed early over anything while I've known her, the elder brunette thought to himself. And she left her food out without asking one of us to clean it up. It's not like her to leave open food just lying around… What on earth happened to her today to shake her up so badly?
"Did you miss me, love?" Aldrich quietly whispered over six hours later.
Doppelgänger's eyes slowly fluttered open, her sky blue irises tired from being awoken in the midst of sleep but nevertheless clearly pleased to see him. "The beast is asleep?"
"Of course," he murmured, lightly kissing her.
She whined as he pulled away, eliciting a chuckle from him, the hot air tingling her lips and sending shivers throughout her body. "No time to play, love?" she huskily asked as she greedily stole another kiss from him before he could pull away.
"I always have time," he rumbled back as they locked lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Without missing a beat, the blonde slid into the bed next to her as she slowly freed up room, unwilling to break away from him to do it quicker. Time passed in a blur of lost clothes, interlocked bodies, and shared heat as the pair made love upon the bed where, just the night before, Bruce and the original Megan had done the same. It was over an eternity later as they joined one another in screamed release, their cries the melody of a symphony that mankind had been performing for ages.
"I can't believe it worked," she sleepily mumbled into the chest of her lover as she finally descended from the heights of bliss they had risen to together and her body's tiredness began to fill her up once more.
"You give yourself so little credit," the blonde chastised from next to her. "By the time we arrived, Banner was comatose from the knockout drug you slipped into his medicine. He never suspected a thing."
"And the kid?"
"Taken care of. He used to live off the street, so he'll manage just fine, even if he is in London instead of NYC."
She smiled as she succumbed to slumber, her last words whispered. "The tower is ours."
