Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man. I also do not own the Renegades. I just get to mix them together and see if they're suitable for patching my driveway. I probably should have hired a professional for that.

Chapter 1: Pride Goeth Before

X Ambassadors- Renegades

Two Months Earlier…

Angela adjusted the drape of her dark emerald gown. With her deep brunette hair piled in curls against her neck and the asymmetrical cut of the dress, she knew she looked fantastic. She waited in the line for the valet in front of the venue patiently.

When her turn came she gracefully exited the driver's side and handed her keys to the young man. Cameras flashed and she smiled politely. It wasn't every day that she was so far out in the public spotlight, but that night was a special occasion.

The Freedom Line had been completed only a week before and Mr. Stark was holding one of his celebratory galas. She swore that man would hold a party for any reason. This though, was well deserved in her opinion. As she strode up the path to enter the Bel-Air she felt like a conquering goddess.

Once she made it through the doors she was greeted by a smooth modern set up. As she passed the initial entry and moved over to the bar, the flooring changed to a neat chevron pattern beneath her feet. Around her the place was flooded with well dressed men and women already networking.

Angela stopped to grab a glass of wine and spotted the head of legal and his wife down the bar. "Good evening Mr. Jimmez, Mrs. Jimmez."

Jimmez and his wife were open minded and forthright conversationalists. She made a point to speak with them often. Beyond the fact that she legitimately enjoyed their company it was always a good idea to have someone friendly in legal.

The thin bald man smiled, exaggerating the lines around his eyes. "Good evening Miss. Harper. Congratulations. I hear we have you and your department to thank for tonight's festivities."

"Thank you. Yes," she chuckled. "Six months of collectively pulling our hair out. I believe this wine is well deserved," she joked. Jimmez nodded in understanding and his wife laughed. Angela turned to address the woman. "How are you? I read that your garden was featured in March's Birds and Blooms magazine. Congratulations."

The elder woman lit up at the compliment. "Thank you, dear. It was." Mrs. Jimmez adopted a rueful look. "Of course now I somehow must find room for improvement."

"The burdens of success," Angela mock lamented.

"A wonderful toast," Jimmez happily lifted his drink. Angela tapped her wine glass to his highball and sipped.

Not long after finishing her conversation and moving out onto the patio, her gaze landed on Pepper Potts. Angela's burgundy painted lips formed into a twist of amusement at the red head's predicament. Pepper was caught in a conversation with two board members of Stark Industries.

Her friend could never go anywhere without fielding people who wanted to speak to Mr. Stark. Being known as someone who was in direct contact with the big Boss herself, Angela had also been subjected to people trying to corner her for the same reason. The difference was that most of the time she could brush them off. But scheduling people to talk to Stark was Pepper's job.

After the quick survey of the scene Angela made up her mind to intervene. It was a celebration. And Pepper of all people needed thirty minutes to unwind. Her heels clicked steadily along the tile as she made her way toward her friend.

"Miss. Harper," the red head greeted. There was a hint of relief about her manner, but it was so small Angela was sure the board members hadn't noticed.

"Miss. Potts. Gentleman," Angela dipped her chin at the two younger board members. They introduced themselves and Angela proceeded to flatter the men. From the corner of her eye she could pick up Pepper's subtle signs of amusement.

The skills Angela had been honing in a male dominated field since college had only grown sharper. Within a few moments she'd managed to steer the conversation into a risk versus rewards discussion about future projects containing the new proprietary repulsors.

The conversation with the board members was only an opening. But if she was charming enough it would stick in their minds and at a later date she could capitalize on it. Thrill slid through her. The interaction was her game and they were her pieces.

Toward the end of the conversation Pepper finally managed to excuse herself and Angela took one of the gentleman up on a dance. If she wanted to talk to her friend she'd have to do it later. It seemed they had both ended up working that night.

With a polished motion Angela took a last sip of her wine and settled the glass on a nearby table. The board member, Gardner, was handsome enough. He was around her age and impeccably tailored. Of course the downside to the opportunity of dancing with him was making sure the man didn't disengage the professional part of his brain and start thinking of her as just a pretty tart.

Gardner apparently hadn't mastered his end of the dance. His hand dipped to the top of her ass and Angela fought to keep the grimace off her face. A half a step back forced him to raise his hold and solved the problem. Situations like that were an occupational hazard, but she had lines. If he crossed them again she'd have to get assertive. That would probably put a crimp in her plans.

Thankfully the song ended shortly afterward and, with a few demure comments, Angela was able to break free. She sucked on the inside of her bottom lip in consideration before spotting the head of med-tech and the head of agri-tech talking on the far side of the patio.

Her new favorite intern Jessica had expressed an interest in medical technology. One of her persistent favorites, Tim, was interested in horticulture. With sure movements she joined the men across from her to plump for her favorites.

It was over an hour of mingling later when Mr. Stane approached her. The broad balding man cut an impressive figure in his gray suit. Angela had never dealt with Stane much. The man was more of an overseer. He didn't stick his hands in the projects.

"Angela," he greeted. His arms dropped out to his side drawing the full attention of the General she had just started conversing with.

She smiled at his easy exuberance. "Good evening Mr. Stane. Have you been introduced to General Craddock?"

"I have not," he informed. Angela watched with a hooded expression of amusement as the two men performed the dance of high profile men everywhere. "This is a big night for our Miss. Harper," Mr. Stane explained, gesturing to her.

A flush of proprietary pride ran through her. Her team had worked long hours. She'd worked longer. The Freedom Line had been a challenging, innovative project. The first she had fully overseen as Head of Weapons Development.

"You're looking at the woman who helped knock the bugs out of the repulsor technology the Freedom Line is based on," Stane boasted.

She noted that Craddock gave her a second look at those words. She struggled to keep a dark, haughty brow from raising. Instead she deepened the curve of what she knew were wide lips.

"Worked with Tony Stark himself. For what?" Stane paused to look at her questioningly.

"From design to a working production model took us two months," she answered easily.

The General blinked a bit at that. "Two whole months to develop a brand new, cutting edge propulsion system?" He asked, shaking his head. "Astounding."

It'd been two months of her and Stark butting heads over the design via email. In the end it had taken more than video conferences. She'd had to make a few memorable trips to the Stark Complex West to get finished.

"Well," Angela chimed in, "Mr. Stark is a genius."

Stane chuckled. "That Tony is, and you're right behind him," he complimented her. He turned back to the General. "She's been an untold asset to the company," Stane continued. "Sole designer of the AGM-31 Widow and FGM-96 Reaper." He chuckled a bit and sent a crinkle eyed smile at her. "Not to mention had major design input into every weapon included in the Freedom Line."

"I have the pleasure of collaborating with fantastic minds. My department is a shining example of Stark Industries drive to be the best," she answered politically.

"Yes," the military man sipped from his drink. "This new line has certainly put Stark International ahead of the rest. Congratulations on that." He paused before turning to Stane. "I understand the Freedom Line took a total of only six months from conception to testing?" General Craddock asked.

Angela let the two men continue and only piped in when necessary. After awhile they switched to more Washington related matters and she pleaded out of the conversation for a trip to the bar. Grabbing another glass of wine, Angela took a breather near a vine covered wall. Of course that was where he found her.

As he always did, he sidled a step too far into her personal space. He was one of the few who could get away with it. She knew he didn't mean anything by it. Not really.

"Enjoying your night, Panda?" The dark haired man asked.

That nickname was horrible. She fought to keep the eye roll internal as she took two steps away. Their little back and forth was a game they'd been playing since the first time they met. "I am," she answered evenly. "And yourself, Mr. Stark?"

"How many times do I have to ask it?" He asked in a faux patient voice. Angela bit down an impish part of her that wanted to reply 'at least once more, Mr. Stark. As always.' Of course he was more of a Jack Sparrow.

She entertained herself briefly with the image of him being eaten by a kraken. Although they'd worked together on projects before, after two months solid, she kind of wanted to kill him herself. He was a horrible lab partner. Instead she reminded, "This is a work function, Mr. Stark."

The man hummed in distaste and Angela finally turned to look at him. He was in a dark suit, hair gelled, and goatee severely trimmed. "You are a siren in green," he purred.

Fifteen years and Stark had never fully managed professionalism with her. Maybe that was why she'd never managed it with him. "Thank you," she replied distantly. Then with a bit of a tease in her voice she added, "You look well assembled yourself."

He mock preened before taking a sip from his drink. "I saw you dancing with Gardner," he segued.

Angela made a slightly aggrieved noise at the mention of the younger board member.

The man dipped his chin a bit, staring at her with dark eyes. "Don't you know enough by now to know who to dance with and who to avoid?" He asked a bit chidingly.

She gave him a warning look over her wine glass.

Stark grinned and held his hands up. "Easy, Panda," he drawled. "I'm just wondering if I need to have another sensitivity training seminar," he commented cheekily.

"I am capable of handling inappropriate behavior." She brushed at the lay of her skirt. When she looked back up an arrogant brow rose challengingly. "I do work with you," she reminded.

"Don't lie," he warned. His mouth parted and he put on a playful smile. "You enjoy spending time with me."

She gave a noncommittal hum, feigning confusion. "Enjoy? I hadn't realized the word had been redefined."

"Mr. Stark," a man called. Angela swung her attention in the direction of the hail. Fortunately, or unfortunately, one could not be Tony Stark without getting spotted. An older board member approached them.

"And with your protégé," the man enthused. He shook her Boss's hand and then took hers. When he dipped gallantly over the back of her hand she dimpled politely.

The man turned back to Stark, and Angela had to close her eyes because she couldn't stop the eye roll. When she reopened them she saw that Stark had taken on his devil-may-care mien.

"Well," her Boss drawled. "Angela is more than a protégé."

She shot him a discreet moue and wished she knew who had started the protégé bit. It wasn't like she was under his guidance or being groomed for his position. She was simply the only engineer he was willing to collaborate directly with.

The curve of his grin went a bit sharper. "She's an incredible engineer in her own right," he said plainly.

Damn that man. That was one of the reasons she'd never been able to completely buck him. He listened to her and seemed to actually respect her as a fellow builder. When the board member inadvertently dismissed her from the conversation, Tony shot her a look of long suffering over the man's shoulder.

Angela looked off to the side for a moment and then met Stark's eyes again. She let her expression fall into wry fondness and then cleared her throat. The board member jerked back, realizing there had been a third person there. Angela took his moment of embarrassed awkwardness to excuse herself.

She found Pepper again near a set of palm trees. For a moment Angela reminded herself she was living her dream in Malibu. The evening breeze washed over her and she let some tension drop from her shoulders. "How's the night been?" She asked Pepper informally.

"Busy," Pepper commented wryly. "I saw you were busy too," she teased.

Angela gave out a scoffing chuckle. "When is it not and when am I not?"

Pepper made an agreeing noise.

"Where's Happy this time?" Angela asked.

The red head nodded a bit to the corner of the floor near Mr. Stark. The large dark haired body guard, and Pepper's husband of just under a year, watched their Boss's surroundings with intensity. He glanced across at the two women a few times.

Angela ducked her head to hide her smile. "Always on watch," she commented with affection. Happy always looked after the people he considered his charges.

Pepper gave a laugh. "He was going to intervene with Mr. Gardner. I had to remind him you were perfectly capable of hitting the man in the head to get your point across."

Angela turned to the red head in exasperation. "That was one time." She noticed the smirk on Pepper's face and sighed. "I am never going to live that down."

"With a full coffee cup just as the door of the elevator opened on the executive floor, Angie," the assistant reminded. "No. I don't think you will."

With an aggrieved noise Angela defended, "He was embezzling from the company, Pep. I didn't expect him to realize I'd found out and try to choke me."

"Of course you didn't," the woman next to her huffed.

…...

"That's not right," Angela murmured aloud. She had almost skimmed past it.

Technically double checking shipping manifests and the weapons inventory was not her job. But they could give her an idea about what tech was in the most demand, and therefore the desires of her target market.

Angela had found in her years working with Stark Industries that it was important to anticipate. If you solely reacted, you were often too late. It made sense considering the frantic energy of the big boss.

Beyond that, it had been only a year before that a Hammer Industries spy had been out-ed from the company. Not to mention the long ago thieving intern. With a healthy dose of wariness she re-read the shipping manifest. It continued to have an incorrect pairing of address and recipient.

Angela knew the company it was supposed to be going to. A bit a searching later she had the correct address. The street number had a few digits transposed. Google showed the manifest's address as being a defunct furniture store.

With a few swift keystrokes she saved a screenshot of the erroneous manifest. Then she set about writing a memo for Mr. Henz, the Director of Inventory. It was protocol.

Her phone chimed and Angela glanced at the time. It had just hit five in the evening. She decided to pack it in for the night. When she wasn't fully absorbed in a project she tried to keep normal working hours. Not that her mind ever really left work.

Before she left she sent the memo off to Henz. She'd found the irregularity, but it was his department. She could hand this one off to him.

…...

Angela sat back and allowed the caterers to set up the spread in the R&D conference room. She discreetly double checked that there was tea available for Tim and Cathy, non-dairy creamer for Alicia, and gluten free bagels for Taylor. When everything seemed correct she thanked the staff and waited for her people to start showing up.

Taylor's messy blonde head poked around the door only a few minutes later. "Office party?"

"Office party," Angela answered, sipping her coffee. She gestured to the final designs marketing had sent down yesterday.

He gave a sound of appreciation and entered the room fully. After a quick flip through of the brochure he commented, "The Jericho looks fierce."

Angela gave a smug agreeing hum. The younger man made his way to the banquet table and set about prepping his breakfast. A smirk settled onto her lips. Taylor was lanky and often made large movements. When you worked with him you had to watch out for his elbows.

Over the next fifteen minutes the room filled with the people from her department. Jessica made a beeline for the coffee and fruit salad before plopping down next to Angela.

When everyone had a chance to get some coffee and look over the stuff from marketing Angela stood from her chair to address them. "As you've all noticed we received the final designs from the Marketing team for the Freedom Line. Which means that our weapons are ready to go out into the world and do their jobs." There were a few cheers and some clapping. Angela waited for it to die down before continuing.

"I'd like to thank you all for doing such outstanding work on this project. The level of diligence and creativity I observed from you all has made me incredibly proud to be part of this team." She glanced around the room at the disparate personalities before continuing. "I know we were given a challenging deadline. But you've all proven that we here at Development excel under pressure." There were a few more hoots and some gentle ribbing.

Angela drew in a breath and gestured to the food around her and announced, "Take the morning to celebrate your achievements. We're without executive rudder at the moment, so wow me with you engineering prowess. Proposals for new projects are due by this Friday." She held her cup of coffee out in a toast. "Congratulations Development. I've been told Mr. Stark said, and I quote, we 'knocked it out of the park.'" She took a sip from her coffee.

Around her the people of her department tapped cups together in celebration before breaking into little knots to converse. Alicia and Cathy pulled themselves away from Tim to come talk to her. She ended up listening to the arguments about the feasibility of a solar powered rocket artillery system for the rest of the morning.

…...

Later that afternoon Angela listened to her brother Mike complain about her corrupting his four year old son.

"He's still playing with it," he groused over the phone. She sucked on her lips in amusement. "Brandon's all about airplanes right now. He won't stop talking about the trip you two took to the Air and Space Museum either."

Angela smiled and curled her legs underneath her on her sofa. "I'm just glad he liked it. I swear Angie II has tripled in size. I can't believe she's a year already." She spun her wine glass between her fingers.

Her brother hummed in agreement. "Yeah. They grow fast," he said a little wistfully.

"I wish I could get out to you guys more," Angela lamented.

"You get out here two, three times a year. Cleveland is not a vacation destination," he informed her with mock gravity. "One of these times I'm going to convince you to vacation somewhere with a warm beach away from work. Find yourself some hot island guy so my kids can have cousins," he teased.

She snorted. "Why don't you just hook me up with one of your hot surgeon buddies?"

"No. No. We tried that remember," he chortled. "It was awful."

Angela leaned forward and defended herself. "All he would talk about the whole time was the insides of people. There are things about the human body I do not want to know."

"Ah come on, Genie. You wouldn't stop talking about your work either," He jousted.

"In self defense," She argued.

"What's the big deal? It's all just machinery, human or mechanical. You'd think that'd be enough in common," he protested jokingly.

"No," she brushed some hair out of her face. "Besides he smelled like antiseptic on our date."

"Well, us heart surgeons bathe in the stuff you know. Molly thinks it's sexy," he drawled.

Angela snickered a bit. "That's what she's told you anyway," she teased.

There was a cry on the other end of the line, far off and warbling. "She's playing my song," her brother sighed. "Can't get a break from either of you."

"You're the one that named her Evangeline," she pointed out.

"Come on. It's perfect," he insisted softly. "The names of three quarters of the most important women in my life."

With sad remembrance, Angela thought of Mike's mom Evelyn. "You going to go visit them?" She asked quietly.

He gave a sigh. "We're driving down Saturday. I can't believe it's been five years already." Mike mused.

Five years to the day since they lost her father and Evelyn. They'd been headed out to Washington state for their vacation. It'd been part of their plan to meet up with her for a weekend during the trip. Then a faulty part and negligent maintenance caused their plane to crash just after take off.

Angela hated leaving him alone on this visit. It'd been a tough few years for them. They'd lost the last of their grandparents in quick succession not long after the crash. Mike and his family were all she had now.

"Take some Gladiolas for me?" She asked.

"Course. You going to send me the money for them?" He teased.

She smirked at the familiar banter. With the settlement from the crash they were both extremely well off. Even after five years they were still getting used to it. Money was a joke between them now. A way of coping.

"Sure," she quipped. "You want to get paid in beer? I heard of a new microbrewery in Encino."

He made an excited noise. In the background Angela could hear Angie II give another wail. Mike sighed. "I've got to go. Molly's going to have my head if I shirk bedtime duties again."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Angela finished off her glass of wine in the silence, feeling a bit melancholy.

She thought of how Eve had wanted to see the Pacific ocean and how her Dad had always kept a greenhouse. He loved his flowers, especially Glads. On impulse she stood and grabbed her wrap from the back of the couch.

Just because she couldn't go to their actual graves didn't mean she couldn't have a smaller private memorial. It was early yet. She'd walk down to the florist and then head to the beach.