Not as many updates today as in the last few days, I'm afraid. *sigh* I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me after reading this lengthy one! LOL! (Seriously! It's like, three times the length of my usual chapters!)

Love all of the love, you guys! Keep it up! I love to hear your thoughts! :)

I'd spent the morning in the shop after Pepper left, tinkering and toying with some of my pet projects. But to be honest? It hadn't gone as well as I had hoped. My mind kept drifting bitterly back to the fact that I'd woke up alone. I'm never the one to wake up alone. That hasn't happened since...well, ever. I can honestly say this was a first for me. And I wasn't liking it. Not one bit.

I cut the gas to my welding torch, lifted my visor, and sighed heavily. I had to deal with this. Head on. I'd be damned if that girl got to just walk out of my life the way she did, thinking she could jilt me- the un-jiltable? Is that a word? Whatever. Bottom line is, I was determined to beat this chick at her own game. And I knew just where to find her to do it.

I pulled off my work gloves, and grabbed my phone. I hadn't heard from Pepper in a few hours. God, Obie must really have some kind of mess on his hands to need her for this long!, I thought. So I figured, at best, I could leave her a voicemail letting her know to meet me back over here as soon as she was done at the office. We were going to head back to the tech conference. And Ms. Vanessa Matthews was going to have to gear up for round 2.

I dialed Pepper's number, and someone picked up, but it definitely wasn't Pepper. "Stark Industries, Mr. Stark's office?" a familiar female voice said. I frowned and looked at the number I'd dialed, making sure I hadn't gorilla-knuckled my contacts and dialed my direct office line instead. But, sure enough, the screen said Pepper Potts. However, the voice that answered instead was Bambi Arbogast, my long time, loyal secretary. The woman had been there for decades, first as a secretary for pop, and then for me.

"Uh...Bambi?" I stammered in confusion.

"Mr. Stark!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, uh...mind telling me why you're answering Pepper's phone?" I asked.

"Oh!" she gasped. "They didn't tell you?"

I froze, my heart stopping in my chest. My mind raced as I suddenly feared the worst. Where was Pepper? What had happened? Had there beem some kind of accident? Was she hurt? Or worse?

I swallowed hard. "Tell me what, Bambi?" I asked cautiously.

I heard her sniff. "Oh, Mr. Stark! It was awful!" she cried, her voice warbled and watery, which only made me panic more.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Bambi, calm down," I said, trying to put her at ease as well. "Just tell me what happened."

"Apparently, there was a file that Ms. Potts had forgotten to deliver to accounting yesterday. She'd managed to get it here, though, before the start of business this morning. But Mr. Stane! He...he..." I could hear a sob escape from her on the other end of the line. It wasn't any wonder why Bambi was so emotional. She was practically family to all of us, and any rift in the company fabric of those she worked with closest with was understandably difficult for her to take. And I knew she was particularly fond of Pepper. She'd treated her almost like a surrogate daughter, taking her under her wing the day Pepper had started working as my assistant. Something I sensed Pepper had always appreciated, whether or not she chose to admit it to anyone.

At any rate, I was trying to be patient, and hear her out, but my blood was starting to boil. Obviously, I was glad that nothing life-threatening had happened to Pepper. But I was beginning to see the writing on the wall, though I didn't want to believe Obadiah had put it there. For Bambi to be this upset, it must have been really bad. Maybe he called her out in front of everyone, or made her grovel for his forgiveness, or something. Pepper's a tough girl, but Obie can be a bit heavy handed when he has to dole out punishment, I thought. I'd seen him lose his cool a few times on employees in the past. Sure, he tried to play the socially suave executive to the masses. But get on Obie's bad side? And you were the direct target of the biggest fear monger on the West Coast.

I gritted my teeth to keep from demanding that she spit out the rest of the story that instant, and started pacing the shop floor. "What did Mr. Stane do, Bambi?" I said, consciously trying to speak in a very measured tone.

"He insisted the mistake was inexcusable, and that she needed to be made an example of. So he..." she said.

My nostrils flared. I hated how she was dangling this bomb over my head, though I knew Bambi meant nothing by it. "He..." I coaxed urgently, waiting with baited breath for her to confirm any one of my fears.

"He fired her, Mr. Stark," she said finally.

I stopped pacing, the echo of her words thundering in my ears. My chest started heaving, and my eyes went wide with shock. "He what?!" I barked, unable to fathom that he'd gone to these lengths to punish Pepper. And without a single word to me! I suddenly felt my ears burn white hot as I started to tremble with rage.

Bambi continued. "It was horrible! He had security escort her from the premises and everything! You know I don't like to meddle. But Ms. Potts deserved far better treatment than what she got. Whether the termination was justified or no. If you don't mind my saying, it was a most undignified situation! We all felt so sorry for her, being marched out of the building like an inmate headed to a date with the firing squad."

I was speechless, and positively seething. Who in the hell did he think he was, firing my assistant?! And for what? The late delivery of a file?! That was hardly a terminable offense! It was barely worth a reprimand! And how dare he humiliate her, in front of the entire office! He knew how important Pepper's reputation was to her. For her to go through that must have been absolutely mortifying for her. If I could have, I would have had Bambi get Obie on the phone that second, just so I could reach through it to strangle him with his own Italian silk necktie. But instead, I scrubbed a hand over my face, realizing what it was I now had to do. "Thank you, Bambi, for filling me in. Glad somebody still has some ethical fortitude around there," I told her gratefully.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," she replied. "You know, we'll all miss her. Me, especially. She was always such a pleasure to work with."

I smiled fondly at her words, despite my current mental state. "I know how much you liked Pepper, Bambi," I told her. "But just know, you haven't seen the last of her. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Sir?" she said, obviously not sure of what I was trying to say.

"Bambi, I want Mr. Stane's afternoon cleared immediately. He and I and are going to have a little 'Coming to Jesus'," I assured her before disconnecting, and storming upstairs to change clothes. Obadiah Stane picked the wrong employee to ostracize. He'd know that better than he knew his own name by the time I was finished with him.

XxXxXxXxXx

A short time later, I roared into the office parking lot, and screeched into my reserved spot, taking it out of gear and gunning the engine of my car threateningly loudly before cutting the ignition. I did that because Obie always complained about being able to hear me coming from a mile away before he could even see me come up the street on account of all of my personal vehicles having loud, obnoxious engines. But, oh I wanted him to hear me, today especially. It wasn't often that Obie and I got into it. But when we did, everyone was lucky the building didn't cave in on top of them as a result of our earth-shattering yelling matches. And for what he did to Pepper?! And behind my back?! This was war.

I shoved my car door open hard, and slammed it menacingly before I marched to the main entrance and yanked the door open. The security guards stationed at the front desk looked at me like I was a wild animal about to charge. "Mr. Stark?" one of them said, in surprise, as I walked through the infrared scanners, ignoring the metal detector beeps going off from the contents of my pockets. But they didn't stop me. I think they could guess the consequences if they had.

I ran up the stairs to the second floor, and jerked open the double glass doors to my and Obie's offices. Bambi was behind the desk, and gave me a knowing nod, but Obie's assistant (Janet? Or Janice? Denise? Bernice? I don't know. One of those. I can never remember.) had obviously been posted there to try to intercept me.

"Mr. Stane is in a meeting," she urged. "Mr. Stark, please! He knew you'd be coming, but I have to let him know you're here," she pleaded, putting up a hand to stop me, but walking as quickly backwards in front of me as I was forwards, her efforts completely futile. I didn't even look her in the eye. I just shove passed her, and rammed the closed, oak doors to his office opened with a loud whack, the force making them swing wildly back against the wall, creating a startling bang that echoed through the whole space.

I charged in to find Obie sitting behind his desk, in the middle of talking with two men in gray suits sitting in the chairs in front of him. They all turned to look, the two unknown men staring at me, frozen solid, with wide eyes, and Obie with a taunting smirk on his face.

He and I glared at each other for a few seconds before anyone dared to speak, the tension of the silence ringing loudly in my ears. "Tony, my boy!" Obie finally said, breaking the stare-down by trying to put on a convincing poker face. "I wondered if you'd make your presence known, today. But, tell me? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the crap, you son of a bitch," I seethed, my voice a raspy growl. "You know what this is about."

Obie worked his jaw for a moment, silently. I could see the gears working in his mind, calculating his next move. "Gentlemen, I think we'll have to continue this another time, yeah?" he said finally, with a painted-on grin.

The men turned back around to face him, and they both urgently stood up out of their seats, and hurriedly gathered their things, nervously shaking Obie's hand as they bid him goodbye, and trying to keep their professional cool. But it was clear they weren't able to get out of that room fast enough in their minds, as they practically ran past me to exit the room and leave this volatile situation as far behind them as they could.

Obie walked behind them to see them out, and he brushed past me to close the doors. As soon as the room was clear, I heard him sigh behind me, detecting some annoyance in it. "Well," he said, walking back around to face me. One hand was on his hip, and the other was smoothing his beard in thought. "I think you could have handled that grand entrance better," he snarked. "Never one for social grace, though. Are you?"

"Don't talk to me about how to handle things," I fumed, jabbing a finger at him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, firing my assistant?!"

"I wasn't aware she was your personal employee," he said, indifferently. "As I recall, her paychecks say Stark Industries at the top of them, not Tony Stark. Therefore, she's within my jurisdiction, Tony. And this morning, I was made aware of a critical error Pepper made that required disciplinary action."

"Oh, give me a break, Obie," I spouted snidely. "You and I both know, the worst she should have got was a slap on the wrist. But instead she got branded with a scarlet letter and paraded around like some kind of heretic! And I want an explanation! I'm owed at least that. So is Pepper, for that matter, but she isn't here to get one, is she?"

"Say what you will, Tony, but the judgement stands," he said firmly. "I don't think you're aware of how much extra work those few hours that that file was missing has caused our already over-worked accounting department. But then again, how could you? After all, one could argue that your unfamiliarity with the logistical matters of this company are a bit of a handicap to your grasp on the day-to-day operations. And, were you actually present more, you'd soon realize that my handling of the situation concerning Ms. Potts's negligence is more than justified."

I glared at him silently. "And there it is," I muttered finally. "It always goes back to the same thing doesn't it, Obie? The same thing you've always had stuck in your craw."

"Oh?" he cooed, feigning a look of amused curiosity. "And what exactly is stuck in my craw, Tony," he said, mocking me.

"You're playing the martyr card. Again," I said coldly, keeping my eyes narrowed.

Obie scoffed, and chuckled darkly. "The martyr card? Please," he said, trying to blow off my words with a wave of dismissal. "What in the world would I have to gain martyrdom from? I'm the CEO of a major weapons manufacturer! I'm world renowned! Practically a household name in some circles."

"No, that's where you're wrong," I argued. "I'm the one who's CEO. It's my name on the side of the building, and it's me who's..."

"And I'm the one who's managed to keep it there!" he roared, his voice shrill and booming, the reverberation practically rattling the windows in their casings and causing the floor to shutter beneath our feet. Here it came. The old familiar cycle of Obie being pushed hard enough to lose his cool and calculating demeanor, and replace it with that snorting, raging bull ready to charge anything in his path. But I stood my ground, setting my jaw and refusing to back down. I refused to let him bully me into submission. It hadn't happened yet. And I was damned if I was going to let it happen today.

"Who do you think manages to keeps the wheels spinning year after year?!" he boomed again. "Without me at the helm, being the heavy and lowering the occasional hammer, like your father wanted, this place would have been nothing but a pile of rubble a long time ago!"

"Oh?!" I spouted, my eyes fiery with rage. "Let's think on that for a moment, shall we? Who's the bird dog in this operation? Who's always being sent into the war zone to show off our newest and best? Risking my life, to secure those contracts that pay you your executive salary I know you love so much?!"

"Oh, don't pretend that your little dessert sales presentations aren't just a formality, care of your good friend, Colonel Rhodes! Ever wonder what the words military liaison actually mean? They mean Rhodey and I do all the leg work, and all you're there to do is get the paperwork signed, and write in the quantity on the little order form while flashing that pretty boy smile of yours," he barked in reply.

"Pretty boy smile?! What the actual fu..." I retort, stunned at his belligerent belittlement.

"Yeah, that's right. I said it," he spat back. "It's time you come to understand how little your position in this company means. Congratulations, Tony. Welcome to the stark revelation that, had I not been working all of these years to make sure the ship stayed righted, your blatant disregard for your dad's hard work, blood, sweat, and tears would have reduced this company to just a name in the annals of corporate failure. And you would have probably spent the last of the trust fund you love so much!"

Wow, I thought. That one was a low blow. I'd known for years that Obie had somewhat of a resentment towards me for the family I was born into. How could I help the fact that I was the son of a billionaire weapons tycoon? It's not like I asked for this life. Not that I was complaining, mind you. But everything has its pros and cons. Did I ever want for anything material a day in my life? No. Obviously. But growing up with an absentee dad who cared more about the current quarter's numbers and the company's daily stock prices than taking the time, even once, to tell me he loved me. Or was proud of me. And never hiding the fact every fall that he was beyond giddy with the thought that he'd be able to send me away to boarding school, and I'd be out of his hair for the next nine months so he could do more of what he truly loved? But that's just "dads being dads." Right?

I smiled, surrendering. "Okay, Obie," I said, putting my hands up to show I'd relented. "You win. You called a play you obviously thought was right, and you carried it out."

He just watched me silently, his eyes narrowed.

I started backing away toward the door. "But you know what?" I said. "Your beef with me should never have involved Pepper. Even you have to see she got the brunt of your wrath on this one," I said regretfully.

Obie softened his stance, but still kept his brow furrowed in thought. But then he smiled an impish smile at me, and waggled a finger in my direction. "Ah,ah,ah, Tony. You almost got me on that one!" he replied.

I looked at him, bemused. "Got you?" I murmured. "Obie, do I need to spell it out for you? I'm asking you to put aside our differences here, and give Pepper her job back."

He shrugged and shook his head. "Nope. No can do, Tony. What's done is done. We can argue life philosophies all day long, but the fact remains, she screwed up. And she has to pay the consequences," he insisted.

On the inside, I was dumbfounded at how stubborn he was still being. But I can't say I was totally surprised. Plus, I knew, if worse came to worse, I still had an ace up my sleeve. I didn't want to have to use it, but he'd forced my hand. So I nodded in understanding. "Okay, Obie. Looks like you're sticking by your decision, then, correct?" I said calmly.

"Yeah, Tony, I am," he said, with a touch of exasperation at me stating the obvious. He clearly thought I'd rolled over, as he started adjusting his belt line and straightening his tie, trying to smooth all of his ruffled feathers and put the matter to rest.

I gave him the best sincere smile I could muster, and extended my hand. He frowned, and cautiously extended his own, looking at me with uncertainty. I took it, and shook it earnestly. "Thanks," I said. "This was...good for us, you know? The airing of the dirty laundry and all? Sometimes that needs to happen, right? So we could understand each other better?" I offered.

"I...suppose so?" he agreed cautiously.

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah. So, CEO Stane?" I said, with jovial chuckle. He chuckled awkwardly back. "I appreciate you cluing me in on the rigors of your job. It was...most enlightening."

He just continued to stare at me, frowning and silent.

I turned for the door. "So, on that note, I'll leave you to it then," I said.

"Uh...thank you, Tony," he muttered suspiciously.

"You're welcome, Obie," I replied, leaving him standing there, bewildered, in the middle of the floor of his office.

I closed the door gingerly behind me, and spun around on my heels, whistling cheerfully as I made my way to reception. Bambi and Obie's assistant, uh...what's-her-name, were looking at me like I'd just stepped off a spaceship I'd crash landed into the building.

"Everything...alright, Mr. Stark?" Bambi asked cautiously.

"Yep. Couldn't be better, Bambi. Thank you for asking," I said happily. "And tell me, my dear Ms. Arbogast?" I purred. I took Bambi's hand in mind, and batted my eyes at her playfully. She stifled a bashful giggle, but couldn't stop the tell tale blush of her cheeks. "Do you recall a certain measure my father put in place years ago, at the behest of his accounting firm, to differentiate between company employees' and personal employees' payroll?" I asked inquisitively, with a jaunty smirk spread across my lips.

Bambi soon broke out into a knowing smile. "You wouldn't be referring to our subsidiary company, Stark Enterprises, would you, Mr. Stark?" she asked with mock innocence.

I feigned surprise, complete with what I know would have been a totally convincing look of shock, had it not been for the corners of my mouth turned up in delighted triumph. "You know, I believe I am," I said. "So do me a favor, and make the good folks at Collin Taft and Associates in New York aware that a new employee will be added to that entity's roster, and forward Ms. Potts's previous employment record with one such Stark Industries to them, if you could?" I asked in a syrupy-sweet voice.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," she said with a grin.

I winked. "Ladies," I said, with a cocky smirk, knowing full well that what's-her-name would hot foot it into Obie's office to tell him what I'd done the second my back was turned. But that was fine with me. I wanted him to know. So I threw on my aviator Rayban's, and strolled out the door, seeing Little Miss Tattle-Tale do exactly as predicted in the tiny reflection of my lenses behind me.

I chuckled to myself. "Check and mate,you cold son of a bitch," I muttered under my breath.