May 2008

Later, Peggy wouldn't remember the flight to California.

She was fairly sure that someone at JFK had taken pity on her hysterics and offered her their place on the next flight.

Given that she had never been one for hysterics, that was saying something.

All she knew for sure was that she arrived in California to find Happy Hogan standing in the arrivals lounge with a sign reading 'Sharon Carter'.

Happy had worked for Tony for years - even longer than Pepper. He was technically Tony's chauffeur, but he worked more as Tony's bodyguard, since Tony preferred to drive himself - and had since his parents' deaths.

Peggy had never told Happy who she really was, and he had never told her if he knew, but his presence was a strong indication that he was another person Tony had taken into confidence.

Right now, she couldn't bring herself to care, accepting the embrace from a man she had barely spoken to before.

"I guessed you might be coming," he said, when she pulled away. "Figured I'd come here and wait."

"Thank you," Peggy said, her voice only trembling slightly.

At least she didn't have to deal with the press. They didn't know who she was, so the media wouldn't be hounding her for a statement, or camping outside her house, or …

"How's Pepper?" She asked quietly, as they got in the car.

"She's a mess," Happy answered bluntly. "It was her birthday yesterday."

"I know," Peggy sighed, resting her head against the window.

It was a veritable circus outside the house, and Happy had to slow down to avoid hurting anyone.

Thankfully, the windows were dark, so the reporters couldn't see in, but it didn't stop them from hammering on the window and shouting questions at the unknown occupants.

"Speed up," Peggy said flatly. "If you hit anyone, I'll make them disappear."

Happy chuckled weakly. "Don't tempt me."

He drove down the driveway into the private garage under the house, so they could leave the car without being seen.

The corridor led directly into Tony's workshop, and the three bots hurried to her side, making strange beeping noises that she would normally have avoided classifying as whines, but could be mistaken for nothing else.

"It's alright," she murmured, letting her hand run over Dum-E's pincer and managing a small smile when it patted against her hand like a cat. "JARVIS?"

"Good morning, Miss Carter," JARVIS greeted, but even he sounded subdued. "Miss Potts is in her office. If I may, she seems to be in a great deal of distress."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Peggy said, bestowing Happy with a grateful wave and letting herself out of the workshop. "What about Mr Stane?"

"Mr Stane is, I believe, at Stark Industries Headquarters, trying to hold the company together."

Peggy pursed her lips. People coped with grief in different ways, and she could hardly judge the man for his.

But, really, who could think of work at a time like this?

Pepper's office was the first room to the left of the stairs down to the workshop, and it was more a formality than anything else. She had her own suite now, having caved in to his constant suggestions that she just cut out the middle man and move in, and she had the technology to work from anywhere in the house.

Or the world, for that matter.

As she approached, her phone beeped with a message.

Heard the news. We're hands-off. Want us to go for a walk?

Peggy hesitated, re-reading Clint's message.

Strike Team Delta could probably find out what had happened and bring him home.

But so far there was no sign of a ransom demand.

Without that, the chances of Tony being alive was slim to none.

Asking Clint and Nat to disobey orders and go off the grid was tempting, but they were needed by SHIELD, and the Army was looking.

Colonel Rhodes had assured her of that. She had a feeling that he wouldn't stop until Tony was found, one way or another.

Thank you for the offer, she replied, but no. Army lost him, they can find him.

The office door was closed, but Peggy could hear halting sobs even through the thick wood. Feeling her own tears threaten her composure once more, she tapped on the door. "Pepper?"

"It's open."

Peggy let herself in, her eyes landing first on a huge arrangement of flowers that sat in a vase on the desk, and then on Pepper herself, sitting on the floor against the wall, mascara smeared down her cheeks.

Dropping to the floor beside her, Peggy pulled the (technically) younger woman into her arms and they clung to each other, gently rocking back and forth in a futile attempt to bring them both comfort.

Only when Peggy regained her composure did she notice the card clutched between Pepper's fingers. Gently prying it from her grip, she smoothed it out, recognising a florist's logo.

Pepper,

These'll be late by the time you get them, but happy birthday all the same. Next year, remind me in advance, because I must at least owe you dinner by now. Enjoy the break from crazy and put your feet up - you deserve it!

See you when I get home,

Tony

August 2008

One week became two, two weeks became a month, and a month stretched into three.

With every passing day, with no sign of a ransom demand, any hope of finding Tony Stark alive grew dimmer and dimmer.

Finally, Peggy could avoid work no longer, and wound up deep undercover in Peru.

Unfortunately, Peggy never took her personal cell phone undercover - not when she was the asset - so she never got an important text from Pepper.

Luckily, Clint turned up not even three days later, dressed in a maintenance worker's uniform and looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"You're supposed to be on leave," she said, when the door was safely shut behind him.

"I am. But you're on radio silence," Clint said, shedding the jacket immediately. "They've found Stark."

Peggy's legs shook beneath her and she took a seat with far more composure than she felt. "Is he …?"

"Alive," Clint filled in with a gentle smile. "Held a press conference almost immediately; announced that SI would no longer be making weapons. Media's in an uproar, but he's been silent ever since."

Peggy closed her eyes against the burn of tears of relief. She felt rather than heard him move, and automatically leaned into him.

Clint rubbed her back, silently letting her regain her composure. (It might be her favourite thing about him, that he could sit in silence for hours if need be).

When she had control again, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a phone. "Burn phone," he explained unnecessarily.

Peggy took it with a wide smile, punching in the number.

"Stark residence."

"Pepper, it's me," Peggy said, the words almost falling over each other. "How is he?"

"Pe - Sharon!" Pepper greeted happily. "He's … He's doing alright. You got my message?"

"No, I don't have my phone on me," Peggy admitted. "A co-worker told me."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Pepper said, "I met a guy at the press conference - Phil Coulson - who works …"

"With me," Peggy finished. "He works with me."

"Oh. Are we safe to talk then?"

"I'm on a burn phone," Peggy said. "We're safe. What happened out there?"

"I don't know all the details myself," Pepper admitted. "He's got a load of shrapnel in his chest, but there was a doctor who saved him by putting an electromagnet in. And then Tony built a miniature arc reactor - you know, like the one at the R&D facility - and switched it out."

Peggy let out a shaky laugh, horror coursing through her. "Only Tony."

"Rhodey found him," Pepper said. "Refused to give up, found him wandering the desert in some kind of armour."

That sparked more questions. And warranted a commendation for the Colonel. "Can I talk to him?" Peggy asked. "Is he there?"

"Hang on," Pepper said, and the sound of her heels on tile sounded clearly across the phone line.

There was a soft scuffling sound, and then Tony's voice came across the line, breaking suspiciously. "Aunt Peggy?"

Peggy sucked in a shaky breath, closing her eyes tightly. "Oh, darling … Are you alright?"

"What can I say?" Tony asked "I've been better. But I got out."

"You've pulled the plug on weapon production?" Peggy asked. "What happened out there?"

"They had our weapons," Tony said tiredly. "Those guns literally had my name on them. Obie's not happy, but he's handling SI for the time being. I'm not backing down."

"Good boy," Peggy said. "Stick to your principles."

"Aunt Peggy, when are you coming home?" Tony asked, and her heart broke.

Clint must have seen it in the set of her shoulders, and he reached out to hold her hand.

"Soon, darling," she promised. "Soon. Let me handle these drug-runners, and I will be straight home, I promise. Listen to Pepper; let her handle things for a while, okay?"

"Best advise anyone's ever given me," Tony said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, sweetheart," Peggy said shakily. Much like Howard, Tony didn't show emotion all that often; for him to come straight out and verbalise it was even stranger, and only further proved how awful his experience had been. "I'll call someone to …"

"No," Tony said. "I don't know everything about your job, but that can't be easy. I can wait."

Peggy chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes cutting to Clint.

"Nat's on standby," he murmured. "If you need her."

But Tony was right about the difficulty, even if it was someone as well-practiced as Natasha.

"Are you sure?" She asked finally.

"I'm sure, Aunt Peggy," Tony said. "I'll be fine."

October 2008

In hindsight, Peggy would realise that the contradictions between Tony's obvious trauma and his insistence that she not rush home were proof that something was going on.

In this case, 'something' turned out to be Tony reinventing the armour he had used to escape and using it to liberate an Afghan village under siege by the same terrorist organisation responsible for his disappearance.

Peggy's initial reaction when the news filtered through the grapevine was to roll her eyes with fond exasperation. No one knew that the mysterious flying object was actually Tony Stark in a suit of armour, but Peggy managed to access the military images, and there was no doubt in her mind.

Then, in late October, just as she was starting to wonder if her mission would ever be complete, she got another unexpected visit.

Strike Team Delta were in one of the countries ending in -stan, so it was Jasper Sitwell who was at her door this time.

"Morning Carter. We're your extraction."

Peggy frowned. "Extraction? Mission's not over."

"Fury says we can set up another op," Sitwell said briskly. "He wants you back in the US; Stark's a concern."

"Because of the armour?" Peggy asked, keeping pace with her colleague as they made their way to the waiting quinjet.

"No, because the media's caught wind of 'Iron Man'," Sitwell said, rolling his eyes. "We need you to keep him under control and make sure he sticks to the story."

Peggy swung herself into the quinjet and stowed her bag, frowning at him. "What story?"

"You'd better sit down," Sitwell told her. "You're not going to like it."

Peggy sat, but only so the pilot could take off, giving him a stern look. "What story?"

Sitwell wasn't exaggerating.

Peggy didn't like the story.

Not one little bit.

Obadiah Stane had not only been a close friend of Howard, but he was also Tony's godfather, and if he hadn't already been dead, Peggy would have hunted him down and killed him herself.

The quinjet landed on the beach near Tony's Malibu house, and Peggy just about sprinted up to the house.

JARVIS opened the door as she reached it.

She could hear the media in one of the sitting rooms, which she assumed had been cleared to be used for a press conference, but her focus was on the private sitting room, the one that only a select few people were allowed in.

Tony was lying shirtless in what looked like a makeshift dentist chair, and Peggy skidded to a half with a gasp of horror, realising that Pepper's hand was immersed in a hole in his chest.

"I'm fine," Tony assured her a little stiffly. "A little to the left, Pep."

"Agent Carter."

Peggy smiled, relaxing a little as she grasped Phil's arm in greeting. "Agent Coulson. I'm glad you're involved in this circus. What don't I know?"

"Assuming it was Sitwell that filled you in, we've only just got Miss Potts' complete statement," Phil said. "I met her at Stark Industries HQ last night, and she immediately rushed us to the research and development facility, where Obadiah Stane had developed a weaponised version of the Iron Man armour."

"Tony asked me to hack into the system and find out who was selling SI weapons to terrorists," Pepper said, not looking up. "I found out it was Stane."

"I knew that much," Peggy said, her heart pounding. "And I know he's dead. I didn't know about the armour."

"He hired the Ten Rings to kill Tony in Afghanistan," Pepper said tersely. "Except they realised who he was and tried to ransom him instead, but he never told anyone. So they tried to make him build weapons for them. Tony built the suit instead. Stane couldn't get anyone who could recreate the arc reactor so he came here and ripped this one out of Tony's chest to use it to use it to power his suit."

Peggy closed her eyes, taking a deep calming breath. When she opened them again, the cold fury there made Phil take a step back. "He is dead?"

"Pep had kept the old arc reactor for me," Tony said hoarsely. "DUM-E brought it to me, because he's special, but he's also a good boy. And then Pepper overrode the reactor at R&D so it blew up."

"I'm trying not to think about that," Pepper said, reaching for a towel to wipe her hands. "This one wasn't your fault, Tony, so you get a freebie, but I am not doing that again."

Tony got to his feet, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her right in the middle of her forehead. "Pepper Potts, you are an actual angel and I don't know what I would do without you."

"I'll second that," Peggy said, stepping into her godson's open arms and hugging him tightly. "Thank God you're okay, darling."

Tony didn't respond verbally, but then she didn't expect him to with Phil in the room, and she could read volumes in the way he buried his face in her neck the way he used to when he was a child.

Neither of them moved until Pepper cleared her throat. "They're just introducing you to the media."

Peggy ran a hand through Tony's hair, pressing a kiss to his head, before releasing him. "So what's the story?"

"Iron Man is my bodyguard," Tony recited, taking the shirt Pepper held out. "For my safety as well as his, his identity will remain anonymous. The military and the authorities are aware of Iron Man's identity, and he will be available to support them if necessary."

Peggy smiled. "Good boy." She straightened Tony's tie and stepped back to let him strut into the next room for the press conference.

Once Tony had the media's attention, Peggy stepped in to the room as well, taking Pepper's hand as the younger woman came to stand beside her. "Thank you."

"I'm just doing my job," Pepper murmured.

"Your job is to take his phone calls and make sure he eats," Peggy said. "You go above and beyond time after time."

"What do we do about Iron Man?" Phil asked.

Peggy shook her head. "There's nothing you can do. I can't control Tony, so I don't know why you think you can."

"As long as we can contain the media …" Phil began.

"The truth is," Tony said, "I am Iron Man."

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose in a pose that he normally reserved for Clint and Natasha.

Peggy couldn't help chuckling. "I rest my case."