Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man or Barnes Courtney. I just threw them in a room together and prayed they didn't breed. There's something I probably could have bought for that too. I also should probably hire a therapist.

Chapter 2: Fool's Gold

Barnes Courtney- Glitter and Gold

It happened again. Angela scowled as she stared at the bill of parcel on the computer screen. It contained a shipping address error. The same address she had sent a memo to Henz about two months before. There was no excuse for him not having taken care of it.

Temper piqued she dug through recent orders and uncovered two more mistakes. One even had the company name spelled incorrectly. That was just unprofessional. Clicking back through the databases she tried to bring up the manifest she'd originally seen as wonky for comparison. It came up on her screen and her expression eased into confusion.

The list was not as she remembered it. One doesn't just forget seeing something like that, especially not someone as detail oriented as Angela had to be. Even if they had fixed the error, the original document should've shown up under the ID number she typed in, not a corrected version. She drew in a long steady breath. She was crazy. The place had finally driven her crazy. Mike had been telling her it would for years.

Shaking her head she went back to her own files and pulled up the screenshot she'd saved on the off chance anything weird happened again. At least she tried to. It was gone.

She sat there staring at the list of files on her computer, reading it over and over, but the file name she was looking for refused to surface. Her lips pursed before she followed the logical path and checked the recycle bin. Nothing.

'Well,' she thought to herself. 'Nothing is every really deleted.' A bit of navigation and a few commands later she was left empty handed. It was as if the file had never been on her computer. That shouldn't have been possible without outside interference.

Angela flicked her eyes around her office before clicking back into the open receipt. Yup. Still there. The three slips all shared the same irregularity. They said they were going to one company but the delivery address did not match that company. She tapped her fingers across the keyboard rhythmically in contemplation.

With a few deft keystrokes she stored screenshots of the erroneous manifests on her computer, then minimized the open windows. It would take a long time to go pecking through older shipping orders. Too long. If there were things being misdelivered it might not be her ass but it would be somebody's.

Anxiety was growing in her gut. There was a lot of room for petty mistakes in a company as large as SI, but something about the situation seemed off. Sucking on her lips Angela checked the other two addresses on the lists. One came up as a thrift store and the other didn't exist. That was very, very bad. Weapons, whole finished bombs basically, were going missing someplace they were not supposed to.

The only thing that had been changed on the previous bill of parcel had been the delivery address. Clerical error? It was possible. But the error database system was there for a reason and it didn't explain the file missing from her computer.

Part of her wanted to exit out of everything and pretend nothing seemed wrong, to just go on with her life. Shipping and Inventory were not her departments and therefore not her responsibility. On the other hand Angela designed those weapons for a living. One in the hands of someone not approved would be disastrous. If she ignored it, and it was something sinister, did that make her culpable? Was she already?

Hoping she was wrong, Angela pulled a thumb drive from her desk drawer. She backed up the screenshots displaying the three new errors to the stick, left the originals on her computer, and opted not to send a memo. The next day she'd check again. If the receipts were changed, if the image files were off her computer again, then she would have a much bigger problem.

It was probably nothing, she tried to comfort herself. Mike was going to end up right. The place was just finally making her crazy.

…...

Angela spent the night trying to convince herself that her suspicions weren't always right. By the time she gave up sleep as a bad job it was only five in the morning. She managed to keep herself from going in to work until only an hour before her usual time. Upon her arrival, Tim, always an early worker, greeted her.

"Having trouble?" The man tilted his head, his black hair falling in neat waves that framed his jaw.

Angela blinked in confusion. "Trouble?"

He hummed and took a sip of, what she could smell, was chai tea. "IT was by."

With sheer force of will Angela put on an aggrieved look in lieu of the alarmed one she wanted to wear. "Probably new security software. They install it anywhere else?"

"Nope," Tim scratched his ear. "Your office only."

Angela raised her chin in acknowledgement and went to move down the hall.

"It was Hoeft, by the way." At Angela's questioning look he elaborated. "The IT tech was Hoeft."

She catalogued the name and tried not to look nervous. "Thanks, Tim." Her second could be as detail oriented as her.

Trying not to seem hasty she made her way into her office. After waiting for her computer to boot up she immediately checked her files, looking for the saved screenshots. They were gone. Dread boiled in her gut. 'What kind of sloppy operation is this?' She wondered.

Angela tried to log into the shipping network to access the manifests but was denied. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva she stared at the red text claiming her password was not recognized. It firmly pointed to Hoeft doing some things he shouldn't have been doing.

The lock chip was still in her bag with the saved images on it. She could take her experience to Stark or Stane now and she knew she would be taken seriously. But with so little information all she would manage would be to start a company wide witch hunt. Hoeft would be caught in the net; however anyone else working with him would probably slip away.

Her eyes narrowed in anger at the thought. Someone had invaded her private space. Something had been stolen, personally, from her. Whoever was responsible, they were not smarter than her.

With a sniff of distain she exited out of the section of the network containing the shipping database and instead jumped to Inventory. If someone was stealing weapons, which seemed highly plausible, then stealing components would be easier. They had made their move. It was time for her to find a work around.

After the first fishy sounding disposal report without follow up she exited out of the SI mainframe all together and cleared her tracks. Angela fought to keep her breathing steady. Based on her experiences whistleblowers could get strangled in elevators. She wasn't going to keep her nose out of it however.

She dithered a moment over who's log in and computer she could commandeer without causing them grief. Frank, one of her project leaders, was a month into paternity leave. He would have proper access.

Angela unlocked the bottom drawer on her desk and rifled through the files before finding the yellow sticky note with his login and password. She stood from her desk and made her way to the lab Frank frequented. Taking a seat at his workstation she punched in his password. Back in the SI network, Angela flexed her fingers and got to work under a little more cover. She pulled up the parts lists and started looking for oddities.

Her second find was a group of control actuator systems that had been destroyed in an accident. There was none of the required follow up with the safety team, or the disposal team. The next was a series of electrical components that went missing from any record after being acquired. From one inventory list to the next they disappeared. Pressure vessels and rocket motor casings were shipped, re-shipped, and then lost without proper follow up as well.

All of the incidences could have been individual screw ups except that they had one thing in common. As someone who had designed many of the weapons created by SI in the last ten years, Angela had a running parts list in her head. The missing components she'd found slotted into a mental inventory. Her stomach rolled in horror when they matched up enough to completely build at least three different models of weapons.

For a moment she sat there breathing through her nose, trying not to be sick. Then, with precise movements, she saved screenshots of everything. Angela pulled the jump drive out of her purse and transferred the information onto it.

"Hey, boss lady," a voice greeted from the door. Angela jumped. "Whoa," Jessica drawled. "Stressful day?" The intern peered at her. "Are you feeling well? You're," she paused, "Pale."

Angela rubbed a hand under her eyes and groaned. "Yeah. It's been a stressful day," she parroted. With more effort than usual she slid a mental glass wall between herself and her feelings. She drew up a slightly haughty tone. "IT was in working on my station. Whatever it was they fixed, they broke more."

The intern hummed in commiseration. "Well," she hesitated. "Just wanted to let you know that Pi melted a circuit board. So if you smell plastic it's from him."

A smirk quirked her lips. "Duly noted. Remind him about filling out an incident report, please. Thank you, Jessica." The intern bobbed her head before leaving. Angela knew it wouldn't pass for a normal interaction. But thankfully Jessica was a twenty four year old college student and wouldn't question.

Her eyes drifted back down to the computer screen and she sucked on her bottom lip. The anomalies she was uncovering were spread out through various departments. Safety, inventory, and acquisition all had at least one instance. There were bits and bobs that made a terrible whole. If she hadn't known everything that went into a multitude of weapons, especially from the Freedom Line, she would have never put it together.

It coalesced in her mind's eye until she was swallowing rapidly and her hands felt shaky. Someone who could manipulate all those disparate areas of the company was purposefully skimming tech off. They were being careful about it, but not too careful. Arrogance then, she assessed.

Likely they didn't think anyone could or would look. She wouldn't have either if not for those hastily changed receipts and the files disappearing from her computer. Mentally Angela confirmed IT to her list of departments involved. Hoeft was definitely some form of dirty.

Fear struck through her as she realized that they were bold enough to wipe the files from her computer and block her access. With the breadth of what she was seeing it couldn't be Hoeft on his own.

Her next steps forward would have to be careful ones. When people thought they were about to be caught doing something illegal they could get violent. She was in danger.

…...

"Potts." The red head sounded tired. Angela could commiserate. She'd ducked into an out of the way section near logistics to make her phone call. With Hoeft having been in her office it wasn't safe to speak in there.

"Pepper, it's Angela. I need to set up a meeting as soon as possible with Mr. Stark." Her eyes flashed around looking for anyone who might be eavesdropping. You could never be one hundred percent sure your conversations were secure when you worked closely with Tony Stark.

"Okay." Her friend didn't seem to take in the urgency in Angela's tone. "What about?"

"It's not something to speak of in the depth necessary over the phone, but there are irregularities that are of serious concern. It's important," she stressed. "It needs direct attention from Mr. Stark as soon as possible."

Pepper hummed. In the background Angela could hear what sounded like several things going on. "Mr. Stark's schedule is full until he leaves for the weapons demonstration," she informed. "I'll check, but I believe the first opening he has is next Tuesday. Don't quote me. You know how it is to schedule something with him."

Angela grimaced deeply. She'd all but forgotten about the Jericho demonstration scheduled for the weekend. "No chance of squeezing me in sooner? I could probably just type up my observations and hand off a jump drive with the information. I could drive over," she offered. "I don't want to email." This really needed to get to someone's hands other than hers.

"I'm trying to get him off for the awards ceremony in Vegas right now. He's late, as usual. After that it's right back to the airport for the demonstration," the red head explained.

Before Pepper got herself too worked up Angela cut in. "Okay. What about Mr. Stane?" He wasn't her first choice but she'd take him. The information in her hands was explosive. "Do you know off the top of your head?"

"Already in Las Vegas," Pepper sighed gustily. "Then he's on a plane to Switzerland until sometime next week."

Angela sucked on her bottom lip and resisted making a deeply frustrated noise. With a breath she centered herself. "Fine. I can wrap this for a long weekend but Tuesday, Pepper." She tried to convey her urgency without seeming like she'd lost control of the situation. "Seriously, it has to be Tuesday."

There was a bang and yelling from the other side of the phone. Angela shook her head at the apparent chaos on Pepper's end of the line. She debated telling the other woman more, but she really didn't feel safe explaining over the phone.

"I promise," Pepper assured. "Now I have to get back to this before someone blows something up," she finished in exasperation.

"Sure. Okay." Angela smoothed her hair out of her eyes. She could do it, she reassured herself. She could keep the situation under wraps for a long weekend.

Another shout came from Pepper's end and the woman gave a sound of annoyance. "Bye, Angie."

"Bye, Pep," Angela replied. When the call ended she stuffed her phone back into her bra and rubbed a hand under her eyes. Tuesday. Five days. She could keep a handle on things until then.

Angela turned to leave the corridor. Ahead of her a young bald man passed through the entryway towards security. She eyed him suspiciously before deciding he'd been too far away to overhear her call. It still made her feel paranoid.

…...

The next day Angela was back at Frank's terminal. Halfway through the morning her assistant tracked her down.

"Miss. Harper, Mr. Garrick from public relations is waiting in your office." Claire spoke from the doorway.

Angela's brow furrowed in confusion. Without looking up she observed, "He doesn't have an appointment." She copied a few more bits of info to her thumb drive and highlighted a line on one of the open documents.

"No," Claire agreed. "But he insisted it was urgent."

Angela sighed, knowing that if Garrick was waiting for her she'd have to deal with the man. Finally looking up at Claire she nodded. "Alright. Let me close up here and I'll meet him in my office. Less than five minutes," she assured.

Once her assistant left Angela finished saving a few more files before ejecting the lock chip and dropping it into her purse. She powered down the computer and exited the lab.

A few moments later she entered her office to find Garrick, a tall middle aged man with a full head of grey hair and a neat beard, standing by her side table. He seemed to be entertaining himself by looking over her selection of flavored coffees.

"Mr. Garrick," she greeted politely. "What brings you to the Development department today?"

Angela noticed he was carrying a packet usually reserved for when she was expected to travel. Her brows furrowed slightly. She had no meetings that required that on her schedule.

The man raised his head and flashed a smile, that Angela uncharitably thought, the cameras probably loved. She had limited patience for PR, less for the man in front of her. "New marching orders," he joked.

Angela made an inquiring noise as he handed her the packet. She sat behind her desk, flipped it open, and skimmed through the itinerary. "Am I reading this correctly?" She skimmed it again to be sure it said what she'd thought. It still said Afghanistan. "I've never been asked to be at a weapons demonstration outside of the country before," she protested.

The man moved to lean against her side of the desk and Angela fought a grimace at his proprietary air. "Well Angela, you've been Head of Weapons Development for just over half a year. It was bound to happen." He waved a hand at the packet. "All the information is in there. You'll be traveling with Mr. Stark and our Military liaison so don't be late," he chided.

Angela couldn't stop her jaw from clenching at his condescending tone. "Any particular reason why this demonstration? Who did this come from?" She fought to keep her voice even. In her mind she had already latched on to the 'with Mr. Stark.' It would give her time to address her issue with the man before Tuesday. But really, an active war zone?

Mr. Garrick leaned forward and patted her hand. "Oh, one of the big bosses thought it would be appropriate to have you tag along. Don't worry about it. This is good news for you." That soap opera star smile made a reappearance.

'And that's enough from Garrick,' Angela thought with ill temper. "Of course. Thank you, Mr. Garrick. I'll be sure to go over this thoroughly."

Thorough and diabolical thinking was what she was known for, after all. Surprisingly she found the diabolical part actually increased with managerial responsibility. It positively exploded when you added in corporate politics.

The man smiled again, satisfied, before he turned and left her office. Angela let out a long sigh and then looked back down at the packet. Worry squirmed in her gut.

In her time as a project leader, Deputy, and then Head, Angela had traveled to places like Alaska, Texas, and New York. Never had she been sent to a foreign country. Of course, Mr. Garrick had a point. She had been Head for only ten months. It was bound to happen eventually.

Angela bit her lip in consideration. Like she'd thought before, it would give her a captive audience on the plane a full three days earlier than she could otherwise achieve it. Plus she'd be traveling with the CEO of Stark Industries. Even if it was an active war zone, the security was bound to be incredible. Right?

…...

After a long silence she heard the greenhouse door bang shut. "I'm sorry. I thought I just heard you say Afghanistan," Mike deadpanned.

Angela squeezed her eyes shut but continued folding her clothes. "You did," she admitted.

"That," her brother bit out. "Is an active war zone."

She dropped the shirt she was folding to rub her hand over the loose hairs around her face. "I know that, Mike."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what had been going on at work. She wanted to make him understand why she needed to go, beyond the fact that she'd been basically ordered to do so. Prudence kept her quiet about it. Her brother would not be happy with her getting involved in another potentially dangerous situation.

He growled in displeasure at her short response.

"Mikey, I've got to go," she pressed. "It's my job."

After a long inhale from the other end of the line her brother responded. "Damn it. Be careful, Genie."

"I will," she vowed. "I'm traveling with Tony Stark. We're going to have a full military caravan," she reassured him.

…...

Tony spent a pretty good night with Miss. Brown before ducking down to his shop. He knew Pepper would take care of showing out his guest.

"Give me an exploded view," he ordered, peering at the schematics for his flathead.

"The compression in cylinder three appears to be low," JARVIS announced.

"Log that," he commanded.

From the edge of his attention he heard Pepper say, "I'm gonna try again, right now."

His music suddenly dropped in volume. "Please don't turn down my music," he complained.

"I'll keep you posted," Pepper finished into the phone. She turned to him. "You are supposed to be halfway around the world right now."

"How'd she take it?" Tony asked without looking up.

"Like a champ," Pepper replied.

Tony held up a part in front of him. "Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?"

"Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago," she said with slight exasperation.

He continued working on his car, feeling a bit annoyed by the deadline. "That's funny, I thought with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there."

"Tony," Pepper called in that strained patient tone she often used. "I need to speak to you about a couple things before I get you out of the door."

"Doesn't it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?" He rose to sit on the car tire and face his assistant. He wasn't thrilled about the demonstration in Afghanistan. It wouldn't be the worst place he had been, but it was close.

"Larry called," Pepper continued, undaunted. "He's got another buyer for the Jackson Pollock in the wings. Do you want it? Yes or no." She gestured shortly.

"Is it a good representation of his spring period?" He asked.

"No. The Springs was actually the neighborhood in East Hampton where he lived and worked." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Not "spring" like the season."

"So?" Tony pressed.

Pepper deliberated for a moment. "I think it's a fair example. I think it's incredibly overpriced," she admitted.

Incredibly overpriced? That was his wheelhouse. "I need it. Buy it. Store it," he commanded and walked further into his shop.

"Okay," she drawled, following. "The MIT commencement speech…"

He cut her off. "Is in June. Please, don't harangue me about stuff that's way, way, down…"

She cut him off without fear. And that was why she was his assistant. "They're haranguing me, so I'm gonna say yes."

"Deflect it and absorb it," Tony commanded grabbing his espresso cup. "Don't transmit it back to me."

"I need you to sign this before you get on the plane," Pepper steamrolled over him.

"What are you trying to get rid of me for?" Tony asked suspiciously. "What, you got plans?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," she answered.

Tony felt curiosity grow within him. "I don't like it when you have plans," he protested.

She shut him down. "I'm allowed to have plans on my birthday."

With a few blinks, Tony processed. "It's your birthday?"

Pepper cocked her head. "Yes."

Tony supposed she and Happy had plans then. "I knew that," he lied. "Already?" That had been fast.

"Yeah. Isn't that strange? It's the same day as last year," she quipped sarcastically.

"Get yourself something nice from me," he ordered.

"I already did," she admitted. "Also Angela," she began.

Tony's head whipped up like a hunting dog. It was a tiny bit embarrassing to him how quickly that name could get his attention.

"She called the day before yesterday," Pepper informed.

She had?

"It sounded serious. I set a meeting for you with her on Tuesday," she concluded.

Tony felt a bit wrong footed. What could be so important that Panda bear would want a face to face meeting with him? He was pretty sure that the last time she walked out of his house she was ready to skin him.

"Alright," he agreed slowly and finally moved to get ready for his flight.