When Tony woke, it was to the expected pounding headache and vile taste in his mouth.

He rolled over in bed, and promptly bumped into a warm body. "Pepper?" He said, muzzily, before he remembered he and Pepper were no longer a thing. He lifted his head, and realized that the warm body in his bed was a random chick with lots of dark hair and dark skin.

She blinked at him, likely battling a hangover to match his own.

"Err, hi," he said. Mornings after were always awkward, particularly when he had no memory of the events leading up to them. "Breakfast?" he suggested.

"Nah. I've got to go," she said, with a light accent that he couldn't place. He was lousy with accents.

"Err, uh, I didn't do anything rude, did I?" He said, a bit worried. He normally didn't get that drunk in public, but the last thing he remembered was going for more champagne after venting angrily at Xanatos's blond aide.

"Huh? No." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "It was good."

She rose, revealing a body with a few sags and wrinkles, and a pound or two extra. He guessed her age to be late thirties. She was a real woman, in other words. At least he hadn't taken the first available supermodel home (though Xanatos's parties tended to be light on the arm candy).

Whoever she was, she had probably been at the party because she was in Xanatos' circle of peers, rather than being a decoration. He'd certainly been to enough parties where the after-dinner entertainment included barely legal-age escorts hired for the enjoyment of the rich guests, and he was embarrassed to recall the number of times he'd taken advantage of what was being offered.

He'd outgrown that. Mostly.

Unfortunately, he couldn't remember her name, how they'd met, or anything about the last night. "Uh," he said, "well, umm."

She grabbed a short black dress of the floor and yanked it over her head, found her underwear on a bedside chair and pulled them on, then shoved her feet into a pair of designer pumps. He could tell she felt a little uncomfortable, but he didn't think she was upset. Maybe she couldn't remember last night either. He really hoped he hadn't done anything wrong. The entire time she was dressing he couldn't think of a thing to say.

"Maybe we'll see each other around," she said, "You're funny."

"I was?" That sounded promisingly like he hadn't done anything egregious.

"Yeah." She ran her fingers through her hair, working out the worst of the tangles. "Hope you're not thinking this might lead to anything, though. I'm not in the market."

Whew. That had been his second major concern. He, very definitely, was not looking for a girlfriend.

"See you, Tony," she headed for the door.

After she was gone, Tony slumped back and rubbed his forehead. His hangover wasn't any better, and the light was making him nauseous. However, after a moment, he grabbed his earpiece off the bedside table and, with eyes firmly closed, clipped it in place. "Jarvis, what was that woman's name?"

"Amanda Patel. She's a Vice President with Wayne Industries."

"Ah." Definitely not just invited to the party for her looks, then. Likely, knowing Bruce's hiring habits, she was a sharp cookie and Xanatos had invited her on her own merits. "Did I do anything ... offensive?"

"As far as I observed, everything was fully consensual," Jarvis said, promptly. "I would have intervened had there been any question."

"Right." He pinched the bridge of his nose. He would never deliberately assault anyone, but when he got to drinking it was possible that he could misinterpret social cues. He'd been slapped or shoved away more than once in his life, though he was proud to say that he always stopped as soon as he realized he'd erred. "Thanks, Jarvis."

"You may wish to watch the news, however."

"No, I don't wish."

His hotel room TV turned on by itself, and then changed channels to CNN. The reporters were covering the election, and Stark angrily reached for the remote only to pause.

The clip was of Stark standing on an Aerie building parapet, and declaring angrily,

"I think I'd make a better president than that spray-tanned muppet. Wish I'd run. If he could win, so could I and at least I won't start WW3. Hell, I'll throw myself in front of the missiles first. Like I've done before!"

Well, he'd been quoted saying worse.

Tony shut the TV off, and when Jarvis protested, he yanked the ear piece back out and slapped it down on the end table. He had a hangover to sleep off.