Again a many thanks to everyone who's added this and anybody who comments.

Please comment! I'd like to know what you guys think - especially if you think something's wrong with it. Thank you.

Same disclaimer as everybody else, be cool.

And thanks, Tex mwah

--

Chapter 7 - Planes, Trains, and…Auto Wrecks

"Look at the modern-day automobile, nobody fifty years ago could even conceive of what they'd be capable of, what they'd look like. But somewhere, there was some designer, maybe fresh out of college, who came up to them and said, 'Hey, wouldn't it be fab if you did this?' And I'm sure he was laughed at, too. Any other questions you'd like to ask me because you don't think I can answer them without looking like an idiot, Miss Vanity Fair?" Tony asked her back, right in the middle of the press conference.

She'd just made a futile attempt at a ball-busting question, and didn't seem up for trying another one, just yet.

"Tony!" another reporter called, claiming his turn. "What do you think about the reports that two undergrads up north might have built a suit like yours?" There was an audible buzz, it would seem, as all of the members of the press scooted closer to the podium, to hear this.

"I think it's ridiculous; their suit didn't have nearly as many capabilities as mine, it wasn't even powered the same way. It really wasn't like mine at all."

Well that caused a slight sensation. He'd just confirmed the existence of such a thing, and acknowledged that he knew about it (and had seen it) all at the same time. Now a lot more people had questions.

"Are you taking any legal or otherwise action against them because they made it without permission?"

"Against them? No. Good grief, why would I be that much of an asshole? I was actually thinking of offering them jobs here, we're a little short on developmental personnel at the moment."

That got a laugh.

About then, Rhodey interrupted. "Excuse me, folks, that's all the time we have for today, no more questions, Mr. Stark will see you another time, I'm sure. Thank you all for coming." He proceeded to scoot Tony off the stage, so to speak, leaving everyone to compare notes.

"Well that went amazingly better than any of us expected back here," Pepper teased, as they joined her and the two 'kids' in the hallway behind the press conference room.

"Told you I had it handled and didn't see a need for the cards. But would you listen?"

"Well, considering your most recent history with press conferences - " Pepper smirked, reminding him.

"No. You know, you two," he looked at Pepper and Rhodey pointedly, "might as well be two old, stereotypical Jewish mothers, you guys fuss over me so much. Ever since that little hostage incident… If you're not careful, people are going to start thinking you two actually care about me. Now - "

"Tony - " Pepper tried to interrupt.

"Nope! Don't care. I have a project to get back to, I - "

"Tony, Mr. Banner's here looking to meet with you. He says there's some kind of job you offered him while you were gallivanting around one nigh…" Pepper insisted. After all, it was her job to keep him on schedule and on track.

"Well why didn't you say so?" Pepper could have hit him as he said this. "Where is he?"

"Staring at the Arc Reactor."

"Okay, good, I need to take these two over there anyways. Rhodey, it's great to see you again - "

"Oh no, no you don't. I recognize that guy's name," Col. Rhodes shook his head at his friend, a stern look on his face. Tony took back the hand he'd extended a moment ago, trying to shoo off his friend. "I even noticed the two college kids who look like they've had no sleep from staying up all night, but I don't know whether it's from working in your garage or partying with you - "

"- That's ridiculous, I barely drink anymore," Tony said rapidly.

"I know how you operate, Tony, after all these years, don't give me that - " Rhodey gave him a disbelieving look.

"No, seriously, I haven't had time, I've been working."

"Speaking of which, you can't go off playing superhero without me anymore, so you'd better have my suit ready."

"You said you weren't interested," Tony reminded his friend.

"Yeah, but now I've seen it and I know you're not as crazy as I thought you were at first. I know you've got an extra suit, and - "

"Oh, no. You thought I went ahead and built you one anyways? That was a prototype of the Mark Four, I haven't finished it yet. Besides, technically that one's her suit," Tony nodded over to Jess.

"Oh, so I see, you tempted me with that one hanging around when I came by to save your ass, and then you give it over to someone else, no offense miss," at this point it was just Tony and Rhodey messing with each other, as they loved to do.

"Well she is helping me redesign it, so I altered it to fit her specifically, yeah. Seriously, though, if you want one of these, you're going to have to speak up, because I can only make so many at a time, and - " Tony rationalized.

"I have, okay, this? This is me speaking up. I'm in."

--

"Daniel James Crowe." His name was called from the baling man at the podium; a man who was enthused about the cap and gown solely for the fact that it gave him a break from the dead-animal-esque toupee he usually let rot on top of his head, until it itched.

Danny tried to contain laughter as he reached the man, and calmly shook his hand instead, before taking his degree in hand. A well earned one, at that. Pausing for the usual photo-op at the end of the runway, he proudly switched the 'golden' tassel to the other side of his cap, and went around the other side of the ramp to reclaim his seat for the remainder of the ceremony.

Jess and Danny exchanged warm smiles, mouthing loving, proud phrases to each other from a few rows apart. It seemed to take forever to her for toupee man to call her name.

But finally -- "Jessica Lynn Gunn."

"Yes!" she mouthed silently to Danny. It felt so great. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been happier than now, finally being recognized as not being a complete failure.

Jess walked right down that ramp, grinning from ear to ear. She strode with the confidence of an accomplished young woman, with her blonde hair tucked into a neat and proper bun under her cap. She looked lovely, confident, strong - ready to take on the rest of the world.

Only she hadn't expected the stage behind her to suddenly start exploding. That she wasn't quite ready for.

Students, seats, and metal bleacher beams alike were suddenly, with a noise loud enough and a force powerful enough to disorient a rhino, heaved across the outdoors public venue. A fold-up picnic chair took her cap off, missing her actual head by a few centimeters, at most. The blast rang in her ears enough so that she couldn't hear anything for quite some time-- an annoying ringing replaced screams of terror and pain.

Unknown to herself, she gave a scream herself (not that she could hear it), jumping -- no, she was pushed -- off the stage and onto the rigid grass of the football field below. A few people jumped over her as she curled up into a protective fetal ball; a few still ran into her, or sharply kicked as they tripped over her, heading for the nearest exit.

Still her ears rang and buzzed once the traffic had died down, but she looked up and could still see remnants of the panic in what dwindling a crowd there still was. Toupee man now resembled something of a wrinkled baby, his face contorting with the agony of confusion and shock. His cap had flown off as well, leaving him cowering with that look, his hands clasped over his exposed cranium.

Finally the entire place slowly began to roar with sound again, in her ears. People kept disappearing through the exits in a panic just as sirens approached the rampant chaos. As she looked back over her shoulder, she quickly learned why so many people had ran - and how few of the graduating class had actually made it out of the area.

She spotted just a hand, hanging off the stage like, if the fingertips had eyes, they'd be looking at her as she stood up. It had a brand new, freshly-polished class ring, and nothing else attached. Suddenly, she was sorry she'd had that extra pancake at IHOP that morning. But even as she gagged, a slow realization crept over her - where was Danny?

"Dan?" she squeaked out, voice cracking, and another wave of nausea went over her as she was hit by the smell of burning hair, flesh, caps, gowns. "DANNY?!"

No response.

With what strength she could muster, Jess clambered back up onto the stage. "DANNY! Danny?"

She saw horrible, horrible things, the closer she got to the blast area, several rows back from the area she and Danny had been sitting in.

"DANNY?!" alarm was obvious in her tone.

"JESSICA!" It came from behind her, near the exit, where people had ram right over her to get to. "JESSIE!"

She spun around - he was in the guest seating area. He'd gone right past her, not seeing her and assuming she'd already made it out. And there he was. He wasn't missing any limbs, she saw as she ran over towards him, but he was bleeding from a few places. A bit more than a gentle scratch from his side, his mock-gold and green gown now had crimson accenting it, and he held a hand over that side, protectively. Blood seeped down his face from a small gash in his forehead. Adrenaline was probably all that was keeping him up.

She hugged him anyways. And when he hugged back, she screamed again, vision swirling, only then realizing she wasn't getting out of this unscathed. Her ribs - something hurt there, badly, especially where she remembered being kicked, and where something had pushed her down.

"Come on, the ambulances are here already," he muttered to her, and they managed to pull each other out, to seek treatment.