Chapter 7

After telling Genevieve to be on her best behavior for the umpteenth time, I was finally able to lean back in my private jet's plush leather chairs to relax. As much as a man who's running an apology to his wife through his mind can relax, that is. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't heard my cell ring until Genevieve's voice floated into hearing range.

"I'm Genevieve...He's my daddy...Do you want to talk to him?"

"Who is it, Gen?" I whispered, getting out of my chair to go over to her.

"He says his name is Bruce Banner," she said cheerily, holding the phone out to me.

I took the object from her and spent all of ten minutes explaining to a very confused Banner about my adopted daughter and telling him we couldn't get together this afternoon. When I'd finished, I turned to Genevieve and scolded: "Next time? Don't answer the phone. Just give it to me."

She didn't seem fazed as she climbed into a chair and sat on the edge, swinging her legs since they didn't brush the ground.

"Are we there yet?" she asked, bouncing in anticipation.

"No. Now, sit still and be quiet. I need to think," I said testily. Normally, I wouldn't have snapped like that, but I'd gotten next to no sleep the night before from finishing the Anew armor.

Genevieve sighed loudly (no doubt trying to get my attention) as she skipped over to the counter that held refreshments. She grabbed the hard red and gold backpack off of it and gasped when it fell to the floor, too heavy for her to lift.

I leapt to my feet and strode over, picking it up with ease. "What are you doing? Don't touch my stuff."

"What is it?" she asked curiously, cocking her head and blinking her innocent teal eyes up at me.

I sighed as my resolve crumbled. I should have looked away. "You really want to know?"

Genevieve nodded energetically and clapped her hands. "Yes!"

"Right, then."

I slipped the backpack over my shoulders and made her take a few steps back. When she'd gotten a safe distance away, I rolled my shoulders and placed my feet apart, taking a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, I pressed a button on one of the straps. With a mechanical whirring sound, metallic strips of red and gold extended from the backpack, encircling my arms and legs. They straightened out to glove my hands and cover my feet. I reached up and pushed the button on the other strap. The sound of gears turning echoed as the chest plate emerged from the backpack, folding around my middle. The finishing touch was my helmet. I took off the now much smaller pack and pressed the last button. It bent itself in various places before resembling the headpiece. All of it took about five seconds.

I put on the helmet and held my arms out. "What do you think?"

Genevieve's eyes were wide as she stared up at me (or rather, Iron Man) with awe. "Wow! That's cool!"

I chuckled, almost sounding robotic due to my helmet. "You really think so?"

She nodded, beaming. "Can I try?"

"I'm afraid not, kiddo. I think it's a bit too big for you."

Genevieve pouted as I converted my armor back into a backpack, setting it on the counter once again.

Shawn, my pilot, said over the jet's speakers: "Next stop, New York. Buckle up, Starks."

I helped Genevieve into her seat before situating myself in mine. Now that I knew we were almost to Pepper, I started to feel nervous. What if she really did hate me? What if she didn't accept my apology? What if she didn't even let me see her?

As if reading my mind (maybe it was a girl thing), Genevieve reached over and patted my arm. "It's okay."

I sure hoped she was right.


I shaded my eyes to stare up the height of Stark Tower. I could barely see the top. It had never seemed intimidating before, but there was something about apologizing to my angry wife that made me nervous. I couldn't imagine what (for those of you dense enough to wonder why I was stupid to think that, it's a little thing called sarcasm. You may have heard of it).

"This ought to be good," I muttered to myself as I bent down to pick Genevieve up. I didn't want her to get trampled underneath all the employees.

The first person to greet me upon entering the building was my old bodyguard and chauffer, Happy Hogan.

"What are you doing here?" he asked me quietly, as if it was some big secret that he was talking to me.

"I need to see Pepper."

"She doesn't want-"

"Where is she?" I interrupted, shifting Genevieve into my other arm. She'd become awfully quiet, but I figured she was just tired from jet lag.

Happy sighed, seeing he wasn't going to be able to win. "Her office. Twenty-third floor."

"Great. Thanks."

I breezed past him and into the elevator, pressing the button to take me to the right floor.

"You okay, Gen?" I asked at last. She was usually a little bundle of energy.

"I'm scared," she answered, voice trembling.

"What? Why? No one here is going to hurt you," I reassured her, gently rubbing her back.

"I feel my ghost. He's here," she whispered, leaning back in my arms to look at me with pure terror in her gaze.

I frowned inwardly, careful not to let my apprehension show. Loki was here? How was that even possible? I thought Thor had taken him back to Asgard after the battle of New York. I tried to push it to the back of my mind. Maybe Genevieve was just seeing things.

The elevator dinged as it made it to the correct floor and I stepped out, looking right and then left. Okay? I'd kind of forgotten my way around the place. That's what happened when I appointed my secretary CEO of Stark Industries and then disappeared to let her do all the work.

I finally came to the conclusion that her office was to the left and set off in that direction. I peered through the glass windows at the end of the hall. Taking a deep breath, I put Genevieve down with orders to stay outside before going in myself.

Pepper was sitting at her desk, typing away on the computer. She didn't even look up at me. Man, she must have been really mad.

"Listen, Pep," I started before she could stop me. "You were right. I am a jerk and I came to apologize. I should have followed you after our fight, but I was stupid and didn't. What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. The truth is...I love you, honey. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I can't bear to lose you."

My speech finished, I let out a sigh that I'd been holding for days.

Pepper didn't reply, eyes still trained on the computer screen.

Frowning, I started over to her. "Pepper, I need you to-"

I broke off when I reached out to lay my hand on her shoulder. My arm went right through her and she vanished in a burst of blue light.

"What the-"

A desperate scream echoed from outside the room and I froze, fear coursing through my veins (which was definitely a new feeling for me. Tony Stark doesn't get scared. Most of the time).

"Genevieve!" I called frantically, whirling on my heel and dashing for the door, throwing it open.

My eyes darted to and fro across the reception area outside the office, scanning the place for my daughter, but it was too late. She was gone.

"Gen!" I yelled again, sprinting out of the room and down the fall, finding no sign of her.

I skidded to a halt in front of the elevator, breathing heavily form panic and exertion. My heart just about stopped beating as my mind fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

Genevieve being anxious about Loki. Pepper just being an illusion. Gen disappearing.

Loki had taken the two people I cared most about and he wasn't going to get away with it.


Well, I would go into my rambling I always fall into at the end of each chapter, but I doubt you want that. And personally, I'd rather get along with the story before I lose my train of thought. I tend to do that. Just ask anyone. So, without further ado, the next (and possibly final. I'll just have to see how this goes) chapter.