Tony made his way into the workshop. The room had been reconfigured yet again, giving the desk a completely unobstructed view of the smart-glass doors. The glass had been upgraded again, and the workshop been moved to the side, giving the Iron Man assembly the run of the room.

The latest development was a wider upgrade of the holographic system. The room lit up as holographic displays, designs, scale models and works in progress came to life, filling the air in the large and formerly empty room.

"Welcome home sir." Jarvis said, unflappable as always. "Congratulations; the Opening Ceremony was a smashing success, as was your Senate Hearing. And it was quite refreshing to see you in an online video, with your clothes on."

Tony smirked at the computer displaying a Youtube clip of his Senate exit, when the sound of a blender; almost instantly followed by the sound of splashing, filled the room. Tony glanced over at his wet-bar. his two personal robots, Dummy and Butterfingers, had not yet been able to master the vodka Martini. Even worse with chlorophyll extract. Dummy had placed the plant stems in the blender, and hit the button without putting a lid on it. "Oh I swear, I'm gonna soak your motherboards!" He shouted at them, and hissed as pain lanced through his chest. He took a slow breath, as his vision swam briefly.

Tony turned back to his beaker full of the thick green pulp. "How much of this stuff do I have to drink now?"

"We are up to 80 ounces a day to counteract the symptoms sir." Jarvis calculated promptly. "Unfortunately, the device that is keeping you alive, is also killing you."

Tony winced. And it wasn't working. He was still getting worse. The chlorophyll had been keeping the palladium in check, but now that the metals in his blood had passed the saturation point, it was simply overpowering the medicines. He pulled out the little box and checked his blood again.

Blood Toxicity: 24%

"Another palladium core has been depleted." Jarvis reported.

Tony had set Jarvis to monitor power outputs from his Reactor whenever he was home. Getting caught once like that was more than enough.

"They're burning out faster too." Tony observed. Using Iron Man was speeding both problems. The Palladium was burning out faster and the waste getting into his blood becoming thicker the more drain he put on the Reactor.

He turned to his desk and opened the cigar box. He usually kept his Palladium in a steel case, but Pepper knew what it looked like, so he hid his Palladium cores in a cigar box now.

Tony took a long slow breath, steeling himself, and rotated the reactor in his chest, pulling it out, with a puff of arid smoke. He slid the next one in. He kept his shirt up and checked his reflection in the mirror. The blackened veins were standing out against his skin vividly, and the flesh surrounding the reactor itself was turning black and purple.

"You are running out of time and options." Jarvis observed. "I have run simulations on every known element, every combination of elements, and every proportion of combinations of all known elements. none of them are a viable replacement sir."

Tony felt a warm feeling come over him suddenly. It was over then. He'd tried every trick at his disposal, everything he could think of, and it had failed. he could not lose the Reactor without dying, he could not keep the reactor without dying, and all that he'd intended to do with his life, he had done.

It was... peaceful. The kind of peaceful he felt when climbing out of the Mark I wreckage in Afghanistan. It was the feeling of: 'It's over now.' Tony felt soft all over. There was nothing that could touch him, nothing that worried him, nothing he needed to concern himself with.

Iron Man's great crusade... was done.

"Ms Potts is approaching. I suggest you tell her t-"

Tony muted the audio and yanked his shirt back down before Pepper was halfway down the stairs. Her eyes were a little red, as was her nose. Oh hell no, Pepper can't be sick, I can't let Pepper be sick around me. A cold could kill me right now!

The thought didn't terrify him so. He was dead in a few months, maximum. But to die from a cold or a handshake? That was just... not Tony Stark.

She keyed in her code and opened the door. Tony pointed at her before he could stop himself. "No!"

Pepper either didn't hear him, or didn't care. "What were you thinking!"

"I'm thinking that you're mad about something." Tony responded carefully, quickly reviewing which of the thirty odd things he'd done that would anger Pepper she might know about. "Do you have the sniffles? I don't want to get sick, keep your distance."

"Did you just donate our entire art collection to the-"

"Boy Scouts of America?" Tony finished it with her. "It's a worthy cause. They could always use the funding, or some cross interest appeal from the art crowd... Besides it's not 'our' collection, it's 'my' collection-"

Pepper would hear none of that. "Oh no you don't! I practically picked every item of that collection, going back almost ten years now, so I think I'm justified in-"

"It was a tax write off, I needed it."

Tony was up out of his seat and waving at various holographic displays, cataloging them as he talked. Boring. Other people can do it. Boring. Take too long; I'd be dead before I can finish it.

"There are only about eight thousand things I need to talk to you about-"

"With the Expo running and out of the way-"

"The Expo is a gigantic waste of money." Pepper said plainly, and put a hand up to stop him walking away from her any further. "Tony-"

Tony shied away from her hand. "I need you to wear a surgical mask, until your cold passes. You're contagious."

Pepper looked at him, gobsmaked. This man never ate a vegetable in his life. When Pepper last warned him about Office flu vaccinations, Tony had poured himself a larger shot of alcohol, to 'stave off infection', and now he was demanding that she actually wear a surgical mask.

Oh god, the boss is turning into Howard Hughes. Pepper thought, listing the comparisons in her head. Rich, eccentric, aeronautic engineer, brilliant, made fantastic flying machines, and now getting germ obsessed. "That's... rude." She stammered out, taken by surprise.

"Well, as to those eight thousand things, the Expo is my primary point of concern."

"The Expo is your ego gone crazy."

Tony was already onto the net thing. "Hey! Did you see this?" Tony picked up the picture frame, which had a large framed relief of Iron Man in profile. "Now that's art!" He beamed. "I'm putting this up right now!"

He carried it over to the wetbar and promptly swept everything off the counter with one arm.

Pepper stared at him. He was losing it. "Tony, Stark Industries is in complete disarray! I need you to focus on-"

"The stock is great! Never been higher!"

"From a managerial standpoint, but from a financial- Tony! Stop this! And don't take down the- Oh No You Don't!"

Too late. Tony had taken down the last item in his modern art collection, admittedly, not having a clue who had painted it anyway, and jumped up onto the now empty counter, neatly putting the Iron Man picture up in it's place.

Pepper gave up and moved back to he main point. "Okay, fine, but listen to me. We have already given contracts to the Windfarm people, and to the-"

Tony spoke over her. "Don't say Windfarm, I'm feeling gassy now."

"-which was your idea by the way-"

"Everything is my idea-" Tony was out of patience with this conversation. he had weeks to live at most, he didn't want to spend it arguing with Pepper over financial stuff that mean little to him and interested him not at all. Suddenly it dawned on him why she was so panicked. Stane was no longer handling this stuff and now everyone was attacking her with it. "Pepper, this stuff is all boring. it's boring and I don't want to do it, so you're going to."

"I have been trying to-"

"Stop trying and do it."

"Tony, that is what I am telling you-"

"I mean actually do it. Physically do it. Yourself. You run the company."

Pepper wasn't getting it. "I'm trying to run the company, and you are not making it any-"

If he had dared touch her, he would have clapped a hand over her mouth by now. In another time and place, Tony would have found this funny. "You're not listening to me!" He shouted. "I'm trying-"

"You're not listening to me!"

"-to make you CEO!"

And both of them... stopped. Pepper was frozen, halfway between a laugh and a face slap. Her jaw was on the floor, her eyes had bulged... Pepper had lost her legendary knack for taking things in stride only three times before. Lo behold, here was time number four, as the redhead was seemingly trapped in total brain-lock at the news.

Tony signalled Butterfingers, who picked up a platter with a chilled champagne bottle in a sterling silver bucket and two flutes. The procedural changes had also gone through. For all intents and purposes, she was already running the company and didn't know it. The celebratory drinks had been sitting in Tony's fridge for almost two weeks while the paperwork went through, and Tony had yet to find the right moment to inform Pepper that she had been promoted.

Tony took her in. "Breathe." He told her gently.

Pepper did so.

Pepper leaned forward. There was a smell she couldn't identify on Tony's breath. After this long Pepper could tell by his breath alone, which particular poison he'd been guzzling, but this was new. "Have you been drinking?"

"No." Tony promised. "I hereby, irrevocably, name you Chairman and CEO of Stark Industries."

Pepper had stopped being surprised and now looked scared. She had been making a check-list of things the boss was doing that worried her. This had gone straight to the top of the list. This was more than eccentricity, or even selfishness. This was... something different. Something permanent. Something was wrong.

While Pepper slowly processed, Tony kept talking. "I have actually given this a lot of thought. I thought there may be legal obstacles, but it turns out that the company is privately owned by my family, and since I'm the last Stark around, I can decide who gets to run the company. It's all pretty much my choice."

Was it simply that he trusted her? After Stane, Tony had not appointed another CEO, because there was simply nobody left in the company that he trusted. Except her.

And she'd given Rhodey the pass-code to the workshop.

She smacked that thought away firmly. She'd done that for Tony. To take care of him. now he was asking her to take care of his family business as well. She couldn't let him down. Not when he'd given her this.

"It took a lot to decide who the right person would be." Tony popped the cork on the bottle and poured two glasses. "And then I realized: It was you. It's always been you."

That thought emboldened her, and she reflexively took the champagne flute that he gave her. She was still staring at him, stunned, until finally Tony clinked their glasses together himself. "Congratulations."

What am I going to tell Happy? Pepper thought. Will he call me ma'am now?

She giggled slightly at the thought. "I... I don't know what to think."

Tony grinned and recited his personal motto. "Don't think. Drink!"

Pepper did so.


Ivan could always tell who the locals were in this street. The ones that didn't mind waiting for things were from this neighbourhood. In this part of Moscow, trained soldiers didn't like to wait around. It was too dangerous for them. Those who lived further out in the country or in the more expensive part of town did not like the cold. All those in between, were simply waiting.

The last two decades had been very confusing for the clandestine operatives in the former Soviet countries. When the KGB collapsed, a lot of its operatives simply went silent. Most of the overseas spies had paying work as part of their cover; and let their lives go on with only one payroll.

Some were identified and arrested. Some vanished into the woodwork and found new masters. Some of them kept in touch, looking for their moment to take revenge or make their fortune.

Ivan had only three names that were not confirmed captured or deceased. After the Americans had expelled his father, the money had dried up and Ivan was forced to go elsewhere to gain the money needed. Such terrible things they had asked of him. When he had nobly refused to obey, they sent him to Siberia as punishment.

While there, he had the nobility, then the pride, then the weakness beaten out of him by the hardest of Russian criminals, and then the weather, and then the guards, just to make sure he got the message.

Vanko had survived far worse than waiting on the streets of Moscow for a few hours; even in winter.

Finding Stark had been the easiest thing in the world. The American couldn't not stop himself from announcing to anyone who could hear or see that he was traveling around the world non-stop.

Vanko had long decided that this would have to be a very public, very daring strike. A one man shock and awe campaign. Doing so in front of all Stark's kind, to say nothing of the world's cameras would do that nicely. Monaco was the convenient and most public venue in the near future.

The problem was getting over there. There would be all kids of security to protect Stark and the other celebrities, to say nothing of the millions of dollars in winnings, expensive cars, equipment, food and liquor, jewelery...

Getting in as a guest was impossible. Vanko was going to stand out anywhere you put him.

And all that came after actually getting him out of Russia. Traveling internationally was a much more difficult task than it had been when Vanko was last allowed to leave his home country. Doing so on a fake ID was near impossible now. They either had to be genuine credentials with a new name, or very good fakes. His real name was flagged by Interpol and most government customs in the western world. Going as himself was out of the question.

His mysterious benefactor had sent a discreet inquiry as to whether or not Vanko needed help. Vanko let the message go unanswered for a time; running down his old contacts.

The fact was, he was damaged goods. Nobody wanted to associate with him, and those who might be tempted for old times sake saw the destination, and knew who Vanko was after. Those who did not fear the retribution of the Americans feared at least the retribution of Iron Man himself.

Finally, and with great reluctance, Vanko responded to his new pseudo-master and asked for papers that would get him there.

They were ready within the hour. Ivan was stunned at the speed in which they were completed. Either his new contacts had either been listening in while he detailed to his old friends what he needed, or they were simply that good.

But how did they get the picture on the fake passport? Vanko hadn't posed for any pictures since being put in jail; and he looked a lot different then.

After giving the matter some thought, Vanko decided he didn't care. He was on his way to the Monaco Speedway, passport and plane ticket waiting.

There were even special Diplomatic Envoy papers to ensure that none of his equipment or luggage would be inspected when he got on or off the plane.

It was going to be one hell of a show.


Being Iron Man meant that Tony had to keep in shape. gaining weight meant that the suit had to be redesigned. Losing weight made the protection of it's Armor meaningless.

Tony had been slugging down protein drinks. The palladium poisoning was eating away at his appetite, and he was losing weight fast.

Tony woke up and felt hung-over. He grabbed the flask of chlorophyll, swallowed a mouthful of the green muck and his stomach had instantly rebelled. He barely made it to the bathroom before heaving up everything he'd eaten since the last time. He was getting worse and he knew it.

Taking tiny sips of ice-water, Tony managed to settle his stomach enough to let him handle the chlorophyll, which fought down the symptoms enough to let him eat breakfast.

Tony changed into sweats went into the Gym. When reworking his workshop downstairs; he had split the huge living room into a living room with ocean-front views, and a gym with more equipment than most professional gyms had available. Weights in all sizes, exercise machines of all kinds, even a full regulation style boxing ring; for fighting styles.

Hogan, as his bodyguard, was more than willing to help Tony train as a fighter. Iron Man, for all his power, had little in the way of technique.

The fact that Pepper and Happy arrived together made him feel sick again. Pepper thought she was being discreet, but he'd noticed them holding hands on the way into the room. The fact that Hogan was clearly wearing the same clothes as the night before made him actually nauseous.

He pointed at Happy the second they walked in. "You! In the ring! Right now!"

Pepper frowned at him. "And good morning to you too Mr Stark. Why yes, we're fine, how are you?

Hogan, however, accepted the order graciously. "Let me get changed."

As he left the room, he realized Pepper seemed different too. The head-cold was apparently past. She seemed a lot calmer about her job. She was still buzzing when she'd left the night before.

Well it's nice that Happy can put her at ease. Tony snarked to himself, and shook that thought away. He'd made the offer to Pepper once, she said no. he wanted her to be happy with someone; and he wasn't going to be around much longer anyway...

Tony got his gloves on, glancing over his shoulder at her as she tapped away on her PDA. Then he realised what was different about her and froze. "Pepper... are you wearing flats?"

Pepper flushed. "No."

Tony let out a high pitched and very audible gasp. "You are."

"I'm not."

"Two inch heels, for you, are flats."

Happy came back in, workout clothes on, and gloves and helmet ready. "Shall we?"

Tony stepped into the ring, ducking under the ropes. Happy did the same, and the two of them squared off. They started out with jabs and feints, feeling each other out.

"You got her out of those stilettos. I've been trying to do that for years. What happened Happy? You get tired of the fact that she's roughly three feet taller than you?"

Happy slugged Tony in the jaw. Stark went down on his butt, and climbed back up again, somewhat awkwardly. Tony turned away just enough to keep the sudden blast of agony that ripped through his torso hidden.

"Two and a half feet." The ex-boxer responded before Tony could stand up.

Pepper didn't even look up form her PDA. "Happy, don't beat up the boss."

Tony had the decency to feel slightly embarrassed as Hogan grinned. "I thought you were the boss now Pep."

"The paperwork hasn't been finalized yet. The notary is on the way here."

Hogan grinned as Tony came up swinging. The fight was a little nastier than usual. Tony told himself that he was putting a little more heat into his punches because he had to keep himself in shape. The idea that he was showing off for Pepper had nothing to do with it. Hogan had been a boxer before working for Tony, and was wearing pads across his chest and stomach for Tony to practice on. He took every hit without blinking.

After several minutes, the doorbell rang and Pepper went to answer it.

"So, you and Pepper huh?" Tony said as soon as she'd left the room.

"That a problem?" Happy countered.

"Not at all. If you ever want to take her to Rio, then Vegas, then Maui, then Switzerland, I could float you a loan of your next twenty years pay." Stark jabbed.

It was a cheap shot, bringing up money. Pepper worked for, worked with, and hung around with billionaires her entire working life. Happy wasn't rich and he knew it.

"Pep sees through things like money, boss. She hangs around billionaires so often it means nothing to her. I would have thought you'd know that about her by now." Happy jabbed back.

"The Notary's here!" Pepper called, unknowingly just in time, and led her in.

Happy glanced over and actually put his gloves down.

Tony looked back and noticed the arrival of an extremely well put together redhead, with a clipboard full of papers under her arm. The white blouse hugged her tightly in all the right places, and the black trousers made her legs look eleven feet long.

"What's your name girlie?" Tony called.

She took the 'girlie' hit without so much as blinking. "Natalie Rushman." She answered, handing over the clipboard to Pepper.

Tony was staring until Happy jabbed the back of his head. Pepper smirked and took the paperwork, filling out her own details.

Tony turned back to Happy, a little irritated. He just grinned. "Lesson one, never take your eyes off-"

Tony slugged him in the face and then brought his elbow up to get him in the chin.

Happy reeled back. "What the hell was that?"

"It's called mixed martial arts. It's new." Tony told him.

"It's called dirty boxing, and it's been around a long time." Happy shot back.

Pepper had finished her part. "Tony, if you pay attention for two minutes, i promise that I'll never ask you to give me your company ever again."

Tony grinned and gestured to Rushman. "Front and Centre."

Rushman came over to the ring, and with the grace of liquid steel; slipped off her heels and slid under the ropes, long and lean.

Watching the woman flow under the ropes was a near religious experience. Tony actually felt as though she had come in in slow motion. Her hair was a much darker red than Pepper's, her curves more pronounced, her face a little rounder...

Tony took a long pull off the sports bottle full of chlorophyll and snapped himself out of it. Stop comparing her to Pepper. And stop thinking about sex. If a handshake, let alone first base, could kill you...

If he had been thinking clearer, he would have noticed her dissecting him with her own smoky gaze.

He signalled Happy. "Give her a quick lesson will ya? Be right back."

Happy came over and took Rushman in himself. "So, you box before?"

She smiled slightly. "Oh yes."

"What? Like Tae-Bo? Booty Boot Camp?" It wasn't sexism, it was simply that Stark Industries Fitness Program made such things cheaper for female employees, by order of Tony Stark himself. That and the fact that fad workouts were fairly common in the gyms Happy worked in. He had heard them all.

Tony sat himself down next to Pepper and started signing things. "Well, she's hired. What do you think?"

"I think she is from legal, and she is potentially a very expensive sexual harassment lawsuit if you don't stop ogling her."

Tony grinned. "I need a new PA."

"Yes and I have a number of excellent candidates waiting-"

"Natalie? How do you spell your last name." Tony called.

Natalie was still balancing herself on the boxing ring mats, feeling it out. "R-U-S-H-M-A-N."

Tony tapped it out on his smart-glass table, an innovation he'd come up with after his I-Pad came in the mail. Natalie's personnel file came up. Idly, Tony wondered why he'd never found her before.

"Ooh, very impressive." He needled Pepper. "Speaks Spanish, French, Japanese, and Latin. Who speaks Latin?"

"Nobody speaks Latin. It's a dead language." Pepper floundered.

Tony skipped right past the professional qualifications when he saw her portfolio had pictures. Modeling pictures. Lingerie modeling pictures.

Pepper looked over his shoulder and saw a picture of Ms Rushman pouting provocatively at the camera, and knew she'd lost this fight. Nevertheless, she felt the need to keep the boss way from this particular woman. "Tony, you can not just..."

Tony grinned. She was all but made for him. "She modeled in Tokyo. You never modelled in Tokyo."

Natalie was openly looking over her shoulder at him. Happy decided to get her attention by giving her a light jab.

Before he could make contact, the curvy woman had caught his glove in one hand, somehow turned upside down, had her knees around his head and put him on the mats before anyone was aware she was moving.

WHAM!

"HAPPY!" Pepper squawked.

Tony burst out laughing before he could stop himself. "Knock-out!"

Rushman had the ex-boxer in a flawless scissor-hold until Happy slapped the mat reflexively; the traditional signal at conceding the match. She released him easily and was upright again, seeming a little embarrassed at the attention.

Happy stood. "I slipped."

"Looks like a TKO to me." Stark beamed as he hit the bell, more pleased at the sight of a woman knocking Happy to the mat than he should have been. My redhead can beat your redhead. And you. He thought childishly.

The sight of Pepper fussing over Happy as he got up made the smirk drop a little.

Rushman, who had not so much as a hair out of place; flowed out between the ropes gracefully, and put her shoes back on. "Beginners luck." She picked up the papers again. "I need your impression."

"You have quiet reserve, under a veneer of very attrac-"

"I refer to your thumb-print." Rushman held open the folder, ink-pad included. Tony dutifully pressed his thumbprint to the page, and signed his name; she witnessed it and signed it herself.

Pepper finished fussing over Happy and came over quickly, almost but not quite putting herself between Stark and Rushman. "So, how are we doing here?"

"All done." Tony promised, crossing the final 't's' "It's official, you're the boss."

Pepper smiled, despite herself.

Rushman closed the folder professionally. "Will that be all Mr Stark?"

The line was so Pepper-like that Tony was about to give her the job right there, but Pepper spoke first. "Yes, that'll be all Ms Rushman, thank you."

"Thank you Mr Stark." Rushman said politely, sent a nod to Pepper and Happy, the latter still seeing stars, and made her way out.

Tony grinned. "I want one."

"No." Pepper drawled patiently.

Tony looked after Rushman and then back to Pepper. "Please?"

"No."

"Oh, so it's going to be like that is it? Now that I made you the boss?"

Happy grinned from the ring. "I think that's 'now that I made you the boss... ma'am.'"

Stark tossed his sports bottle aside and climbed back into the ring. "Round Two. "

Pepper obligingly hit the bell for them.


AN: Read and review!