AN: After seven chapters, Biela is going to show up again, in person.
After getting an icepack, he walked back into the lab and grabbed a cup of coffee from atop a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. Then he stopped and turned back to the box. The sticky note on top read, 'From Pepper.' Curiosity overtaking him, he ripped the paper off the box. Inside was a glass case holding the original arc reactor. On it was written, "Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart." Tony smiled.
"Notes, main transurials sluggish at plus forty altitude, whole pressure problematic, and I'm thinking ice is a problem factor," Tony said, wincing. "A very astute observation, sir. Perhaps if you plan to visit other planets, we should improve the exosystems." "Go, reconfigure the exterior metals, use the gold titanium alloy from the Seraphim tactical satellite; that should insure fuselage integrity while maintaining power to weight ratio, got it?"
"Yes," Jarvis said as Tony took a drink. "Should I render using proposed specifications?" "Thrill me," Tony said. The TV across the screen showed a reporter announcing, "Tonight's red hot red carpet here at the Disney Concert Hall, where Tony Stark's third annual benefit for firefighters' family fund has become the place to be for LA high society." Tony tilted his head. "Jarvis, we get an invite to that?" "I have no record of an invitation, sir," the AI replied.
Tony picked up the face mask and put it over his face. He listened to the reporter talk about him. "…hasn't been seen in public since his bizarre and highly controversial press conference. Some claim he is suffering from posttraumatic stress and has been bedridden for weeks. Whatever the case may be, no one expects an appearance from him tonight."
"Render is complete," Jarvis said. "Little ostentatious, don't you think?" Tony asked, looking at the golden suit. "What was I thinking?" Jarvis asked sarcastically. "You're usually so discreet." "Tell you what," Tony said, glancing at his favorite car. "Throw a little hot-rod red in there." "Yes, that should help you keep a low profile," Jarvis replied. Jarvis revised the suit idea for the Mark III. "Render is complete," he said. "Yeah, I like that," Tony ordered. "Paint it!
"Commencing automated assembly," Jarvis said. "Estimated completion time is five hours." Tony looked at his watch. "Don't wait up for me, honey," Tony said. "Sir, may I remind you that Miss Biela will be here tonight?" the AI replied. "Right," Tony said. "No getting drunk tonight. Make sure I go get her from the airport."
Tony zipped along in his supercar, the Stark 4. He pulled up to the Disney Concert Hall and got out. "Mr. Stark," the valet greeted. Tony tossed him the keys. "Thank you," he said as he walked towards the red carpet. The screams and camera flashes started almost immediately. He walked up to Obie, who was talking to a reporter. "…the weapons manufacturing is one small part of what Stark Industries is all about, a part of the…" his voice trailed off as he saw Tony walk up.
"Hey, Tony," one girl said, "remember me?" "Sure don't," Tony replied casually. "Hey, Heff, looking good," he said, clapping the old man on the shoulder. He walked up to Obie. "What's the world coming to when a guy's gotta crash his own party?" "Ha-ha, look at you," Obie laughed. "Hey, what a surprise." Tony smiled. "I'll see you inside." "Hey, uh, listen," Obie warned. "Take it slow, alright, I've got the board right where I want them." "Okay," Tony said. "Just cabin fever, I'll just be a minute." He continued on inside.
Inside the building he went straight to the bar. "Give me a scotch, I'm starving." The unassuming man next to him said, "Mr. Stark." "Yeah?" Tony asked. "Agent Coulson ," the man replied. "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, the guy from the…" "Strategic Intervention, Enforcement, Logistics Division." "Right," Tony said. "Gotta get, you need new name for that." "I hear that a lot. Listen, I know this must be a trying time for you, but we need to debrief. There's still a lot of unanswered questions and time can be a factor with these things. Let's put something on the books, how about the 24th, at 7PM, at Stark Industries?"
Tony was busy staring at Pepper, who was wearing a backless dress. He held out his hand to Coulson, eyes still fixed on Pepper. "Tell you what," he said, "you got it. You're absolutely right. Well, uh, I'm gonna go to my assistant, and make it a date." He walked over to Pepper. "You look fantastic, I didn't recognize you," he called to her. She turned around. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Avoiding government agents," he replied. "Are you by yourself?" she asked, concerned.
"Where'd you get that dress?" he asked. "I, oh, it was a birthday present," she said. "Birthday present?" "From you, actually," Pepper said with a smile. "Well, I've got great taste," Tony said. "Yes," Pepper replied, nodding. "You, uh, wanna dance?" Tony asked. "Oh no, no thank you," Pepper said, as Tony dragged her out onto the dance floor. "Alright, c'mon."
Pepper sighed loudly. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Tony asked. "Oh, um, well, no, I, uh, always forget to wear deodorant, and I'm at a dance with my boss with everyone I work with in a dress with not back." "You look great, you smell great," Tony reassured. "Sure," she said. "But I could fire you if it would take the edge off," Tony offered. Pepper raised her eyebrows. "I actually don't think that you could tie your shoes without me," Pepper said with a smile. "I'd make it work," Tony said. "Really?" Pepper asked. "What's your Social Security number?"
Tony thought a moment. "5," he said finally. "Five, right," Pepper said with a knowing look. "You're missing just a couple of digits there." "The other eight?" Tony said. "I've got you for the other eight." Pepper laughed. "How 'bout a little air?" Tony asked. "Yes, I need some air," Pepper said quickly.
Out on the balcony, Pepper was a bit more revealing about her feelings on dancing. "That was totally weird." "Totally harmless," Tony said with a shrug. "It was totally not harmless, by the way," Pepper argued. "We were dancing, people were watching," Tony said. "Everyone who I work with, no, you know why?" "I think you lost objectivity, people were watching, we just danced," Tony said. "No, it was not just a dance!" Pepper exclaimed. "Because you're you, and everybody knows exactly who you are, and how you are with girls, and all of that, which is completely fine, but you know then, me, you're my boss, and I'm dancing with you!" "I really don't think it's such a big deal," Tony said. "But it makes me look like the one who's trying to, you know," Pepper said. "I think you're just overthinking this," Tony interrupted. "And then we're here, and I'm wearing this ridiculous dress, and we're dancing like that, and…" she said, shaking her head.
They leaned forward, and were about to kiss when Pepper froze and pulled away. "I would like a drink, please," she said. "Got it," Tony said. He began to walk away. "I would like a vodka martini, please," she asked. "'Kay," he said. "Dry, very dry. With olives, lots of olives, like at least three olives."
Tony walked inside to the bar, pulling out his wallet. He went up to the bartender and said, "Two vodka martinis, extra dry, extra olives, extra fast. Make one of 'em dirty, will ya?" As he waited for the drinks, he heard a voice from behind him, "Well, Tony Stark," a woman said. Tony turned to see the woman he had slept with the night before Afghanistan. "Oh, hey," he said. "Fancy seeing you here," she said. He looked at her trying to remember her name. "Carrie?" "Christine," she said. "Alright," he said.
"You have a lot of nerve, showing up here tonight," she said. Tony froze. "Can I at least get a reaction from you?" she asked. "Panic," Tony said. "I would say panic." "'Cause I was referring to your company's involvement in this latest atrocity," she said. "Yeah, they just put my name on the invitation, I don't know what to tell you," he said. She gave him a look. "I actually almost bought it, hook, line, and sinker," she said. "I was out of town for a couple months, in case you didn't hear," Tony said.
"Is this what you call accountability?" Christine demanded, handing him a few photos. "It's a town called Gulmira. Heard of it?" Tony remembered what Biela had told him. 'More recently, I'm from a small town called Gulmira…' He looked at the pictures. The first showed a destroyed town, with broken and bleeding bodies lying around. The second showed terrorists carrying a crate. The third photo zoomed in on the crate, revealing the Stark Industries logo. The last photo showed the Jericho missile.
"When were these taken?" he demanded coldly. "Yesterday," the blonde reporter shot back. He shook his head. "I didn't approve any shipment." "Well your company did!" she fired. "Well, I'm not my company," he said.
He texted Pepper as he walked outside, apologizing, saying that something urgent had come up with Stark Industries. He went straight to Obadiah, who waved off reporters to speak with him. "Did you see those pictures?" he asked. Obadiah nodded twice, still smiling for the reporters. "What's going on?" Tony demanded. "Tony, Tony, you can't afford to be this naïve." "I was naïve before," Tony said. "When I said, here's the line, we don't cross it, this is how we do business. If we're double-dealing under the table…" he said as he watched Obadiah turn his face away. "Are we?" he demanded.
Obie looked at him firmly, mouth set, and then said, "Let's take a picture, shall we?" He turned to face the reporters as he wrapped an arm around Tony. "Picture time!" he announced. The reporters started shouting, "Mr. Stark! Over here!" "Tony," Obie said, leaning in, "who do you think locked you out?" Tony's face grew stone cold. "I was the one who filed the injunction against you. It's the only way I could protect you," he said, clapping Tony on the back and walking swiftly away.
Tony's phone rang as he got into his car. It was Jarvis. "Sir, I thought it prudent to inform you that Miss Biela's plane will be landing at the airport in the next fifteen minutes." "Um, what's the fastest way to the airport?" Tony asked. Jarvis said, "It will take at least twenty-five minutes, sir." "Radio the pilot, tell him to stall for around fifteen minutes. And call Happy and have him bring Pepper over in the morning, I want Bee to meet them both as soon as possible."
Tony got into his car and drove to the airport. He made it just as the plane was coming in for a landing. Attendants rolled the ladder up, and the door to the plan opened. Tony got out of his car as rather tired Biela came rushing out of the plane. She ran and hugged him. "Do you have any luggage?" he asked as he gave her a one-armed hug. "No, it's just me and my phone. The Base Commander was kind enough to get me this outfit, but he might be sending you the bill."
Tony ushered Biela into the car. "Why are you wearing a suit?" she asked. "I was just at my charity ball for the firefighter's charity fund, which I wasn't invited to." "Funny, since your name was on the invitation," she smirked. "Yeah, it's been a rough night," Tony admitted as he pulled out of the airport.
"First, I managed to recreate the suit so it flies properly," he told her. "You did it? You can fly?" Biela asked excitedly. He nodded. "But I need to work on my landings. My last one crashed through my roof, through my grand piano, and crushed one of my cars." Biela was silent a moment.
"Good job," she said finally as Tony revved the engine and they drove off to his house. "Bad news," he said. "They attacked Gulmira." Biela's face darkened. She knew who he meant by 'they.' "You gonna try to stop them?" "Yeah." "Are you going to be able to do it?" "I hope so."
They sat on the couch together, focused on the TV. Tony was tinkering with one of his gloves. "The fifteen mile hike to the outskirts of Gulmira can only be described as a descent into hell, into a modern day heart of darkness. Simple farmers and herders from peaceful villages have been driven their homes, displaced from their lands by warlords, emboldened by a newfound power. Villagers have been forced to take shelter in whatever crude holes they can find, in the ruins of other villages, or here, in the remnants of an old Soviet smelting plant."
Biela glared at the screen. "I've been there," she said. "I recognize some of those people. They were kind to me." The screen showed gunfire and bombs. The reporter continued, "Recent violence has been attributed to a group of foreign fighters referred to by locals as the Ten Rings." Biela screeched, "Raza!" as the Big Leader's face appeared on the screen. So that was his name.
"As you can see, these men are heavily armed, and on a mission, a mission that could prove fatal to anyone who stands in their way. With no political will or international pressure, there's very little hope for these refugees." Tony stood from the couch, rage plastered on his face. "Tony?" Biela asked tentatively. He threw a screwdriver on the counter.
"Around me, a woman begging for news of her husband, who was kidnapped by insurgents, either forced to join their militia or…" "That's Yinsen's brother," Biela breathed. Tony raised his arm and fired the repulsor at the ceiling. A light fell to the ground. The reporter's voice faded in and out as Biela looked at him in shock. A few words came through clearly, "There's very little hope for these refugees, refugees who can only wonder who, if anyone, will help them."
In a fit of rage, Tony shattered three glass windows with his repulsor. "Tony?" Biela asked. "I've got to help them," he said. Biela jumped up and ran over to him. She gave him a hug. "You can do it. You will do it. Good luck."
After quickly changing into the under-suit, Tony strode onto the robotic assembly pad. He stepped into the boots and the rest of the suit assembled around him. He only had to hold out his arms so that the bots could assemble the arms. Biela watched him in awe. "That was cool," she said just before the mask closed over his face. "Good luck. Beat up some terrorists for me."
Shortly thereafter, Tony was soaring through the sky at supersonic speeds.