Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Iron Man. Also I don't own Jetta. I did melt them both together to see if they'd make a good candle fragrance. I need to buy a cart load of Febreze now. I also don't own Febreze.

Chapter 12: Coming Home

Jetta- Feels Like Coming Home

The tires squealed across the tarmac as the plane finally touched down. Angela tried to tamp down her impatience. The past three months had left her feeling like she had after first self defense lesson. She was angry, in pain, ashamed of her behavior, and mentally exhausted. She was far passed ready to sleep in her own bed and watch junk TV on her balcony.

After a lengthy stretch of bantering, Jim had convinced Tony to sit in a wheelchair to get him down the ramp. When the back hatch of the plane finally settled however, Tony stood up. Angela shook her head, unsurprised at her boss's stubborn pride. Ahead of her Jim braced Tony on his arm, and the three of them slowly made their way down the grate.

"Watch it, coming up here," Jim cautioned.

Angela picked her way across the last part of the ramp. When her feet finally met the runway, she looked up to see Pepper and Happy standing several yards away in front of the car. The sight shot through her. Working at SI didn't leave much free time. Her work friends were her friends. While talking on the phone with Pepper was comforting, it was much better to see her in person.

For a moment trepidation caused her steps to hesitate. Echoes of the looks she'd gotten at the base bounced through her mind. Pepper and Happy were both aware of the hardware in her chest, but she knew it would be different seeing it. The slim, red head across from her tilted her chin up, locking their gazes while her smile slowly widened. Angela squared her shoulders and picked up her pace.

In her haste to greet her friends, Tony and Jim had fallen behind her. Over her shoulder she heard her boss grumble, "Are you kidding me with this? Get rid of them." She glanced back to see him waving off a team of paramedics. Yeah, she wasn't fond of doctors anymore either.

As soon as she was in range, Pepper reached forward and hugged her gently, all thin strong arms and warm vanilla. The red head barely flickered a look down at her chest. "I'm so happy you're back."

Angela was just happy that Pepper wasn't treating her any different than usual. "Me too," she sighed, breathing deeply and relishing being home, alive.

Their moment was interrupted when Tony sauntered up beside them. "Your eyes are red," he teased Pepper. "A few tears for your long-lost boss?"

The two women shared a look before breaking their embrace. "Tears of joy," Pepper quipped weakly. "I hate job hunting."

"Yeah," Tony agreed shortly. "Vacation's over." He moved passed them toward the car. "Come on, Panda."

Angela glanced at Pepper and rolled her eyes. The nick name was a lost cause, and honestly, she was so glad to have the man back she was willing to let it go for awhile.

As the three of them moved to get into the car, she paused to wrap Happy up in a brief one armed hug. The bodyguard slash chauffer ducked his head, giving her a little smile in return and nudging her toward her seat. Happy was always the most professional one of them while around the boss.

"Where to, sir?" He asked once he settled his bulk into the driver's seat.

Pepper leaned forward. "Take us to the hospital, please, Happy."

Angela grimaced. This was going to end up being an argument.

"No." Tony lounged back in his seat.

"No?" Pepper turned her frown of disapproval on him. "Tony, you have to go to the hospital. Angela needs to go to the hospital," she protested.

"No doctors," Angela denied softly. She was done being prodded by medical professionals.

The red head gave her a dismayed and confused look.

"No is a complete answer." Tony said flippantly.

Pepper pushed anyway. "The doctor has to look at you."

Stretching herself back against the seat, Angela kept a hand on her battery. She'd said her piece.

"I don't have to do anything," Tony denied. "I've been in captivity for three months. There are two things I want to do. I want an American cheeseburger, and the other…" He trailed off suggestively.

"That's enough of that." Pepper scolded, looking away from him.

Angela shot a look of consternation at her boss. He couldn't possibly mean what her mind had jumped to.

Tony glanced between her and Pepper and then rolled his eyes. "Is not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference.

Angela blinked in surprise. A press conference his first day back?

"Call for a press conference?" Pepper asked in disbelief.

Tony nodded his head. "Yeah."

"What on earth for?" Angela furrowed her brows in confusion.

Tony didn't answer them, instead he turned to Happy and ordered, "Hogan, drive. Cheeseburger first."

Angela got her way and was able to buy Tony his first meal in the states. Just to be difficult the man made sure to order more than ten dollars worth of food.

Once they were out of the drive thru Pepper folded her arms across her chest. "Really?"

Unwilling to explain the teasing undertone of the order, Angela shrugged. She continued quietly sipping her shake and made a point of not looking at her boss. Watching the man polish off a cheeseburger in a handful of bites was disturbing. It was also kind of sad. She'd had all the restaurants that would deliver to the base. He'd had whatever the hell they made him subsist off of in that cave. Angela was still processing his admission about where he'd been kept.

"Weren't there Burger King's in Italy?" The red head sniped.

There had, in fact, been one outside of Pordenone. They didn't deliver. "Not the same," Angela informed. She drew extra loud on her straw just to be annoying.

They were closing in on the venue, which was already surrounded by press, when she spoke up again.

"I think I should stay in the car," she said, glancing at the hoard of people on the other side of the tinted glass.

Tony trailed his eyes from her face, to her chest, to her battery. "Yeah. Stay put." He stuffed a cheeseburger into his suit pocket and winked at her.

Angela smothered a grin. His attitude gave her some hope. If Tony could act so normal, maybe she could keep up her own facade.

"Here we go," he announced.

They pulled up to the curb, and Happy and Pepper immediately got out. Mr. Stane opened the door on Stark's side. Angela could hear the elder man talking before Tony shut the door. She didn't think the large, bald man had even noticed she was in the car.

The group moved toward the doors of the building, and the press thankfully followed. Angela kicked off her shoes, then tucked her legs up under her. With a last glance around to assure herself there were no lingering reporters, she relaxed back against her seat to wait.

…...

Inside Tony made his way through the gathered press, getting a few pats on the back and some handshakes. He approached the stage before eschewing the podium and taking a seat on the edge. Obie continued up to the podium and started asking the reporters to settle so they could get started.

Reaching into his pocket, Tony grabbed his cheeseburger. He never thought he'd miss greasy American fast food so much. "Hey would it be alright if everyone sat down?" He watched the reporters turn to look at each other in confusion. "Why don't you just sit down?" Tony raised an arm and gestured. "That way you can see me, and I can…" Slowly the group started to kneel. "A little less formal and…" He trailed off and took a bite of his cheeseburger.

Obadiah shot him an indulgent look, settling down on the stage next to him. Tony scanned the older man's face. He privately acknowledged that there was a time he thought he'd never see Obie again. "Good to see you," he admitted with genuine affection.

His mentor leaned forward and placed a hand gently on his injured shoulder. "Good to see you," he smiled in return.

Tony blinked, pondering aloud, "I never got to say goodbye to Dad." He turned to the press, who he knew were listening, and gestured weakly. "I never got to say goodbye to my father." No. His parents had been ripped from him and he'd had to deal with that.

Tony rolled his jaw, setting his cheeseburger aside. "There's questions that I would have asked him. I would have asked him how he felt about what this company did." Tony reached up to wipe his mouth. "If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts." Not, Tony thought, that the man would have likely answered him truthfully.

"Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels," he said with a hint of bitterness. He'd been young when his parents died. He hadn't know his father adult to adult.

His memory flashed back to the soldiers in his humvee. He hadn't known them either. He remembered how awkward they had been around him, deferential even. Tony thought of how quickly they had gone out into the gunfire to protect him. He swallowed heavily.

"I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them," he intoned gravely. "And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability." He shook his head.

There were several calls of his name from the press and he picked out one of the younger men he knew by name. "Hey, Ben."

The dark haired man kept his tone low. "What happened over there?"

Tony pushed himself up off the riser, knowing that for the next bit he needed to be in a position of authority. "I had my eyes opened." He stepped up onto the stage. "I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up." Tony squared himself in front of the microphones in preparation. "And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International."

As if they'd been electrified, the group of reporters surged to their feet, yelling questions he had no hope of deciphering. Obie came across the stage, putting his hand on Tony's chest. The elder man tried to lead him back, but Tony wasn't finished.

"Until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be, what direction it should take." He kept on despite Obie already ushering him off stage. "One that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well."

As Tony decided that what he'd said would have to be good enough and made to leave, he heard Obie behind him. "What we should take away from this is that Tony's back! And he's healthier than ever."

Not wanting to be cornered by reporters yet, Tony walked swiftly back out to the car. Happy, the fantastic man, managed to keep up with him as always. Within moments, his chauffer had opened the car door for him and he slid into the back.

Angela looked up from her phone, startled. "That was fast," she commented.

When she abruptly dropped her bare feet back down to the floor, he noted she'd taken the time to get comfortable. He remembered her doing that on the plane to Afghanistan. It was a much better image than her bare feet running across the sand on the side of the road.

The driver's door closed and Happy started the car. "My factory, Hogan," Tony clipped, bringing himself out of his memories.

He took a second to eye Angela. 'Might as well get it over with,' he thought. "I just shut down Stark International's weapons manufacturing division indefinitely," he informed her.

Her lips parted in shock. "Oh," she murmured..

Tony shrugged a shoulder. "Need to reprioritize."

She breathed in through her nose and looked off to the side before nodding. "Yeah. I can understand that."

Tony remembered anew the woman apologizing to him for designing the bomb that blew them both up. He recalled her own words about her altered world view.

Her gaze jumped back to him. "I take it Pepper's spending the rest of the day putting out fires."

"Probably," he answered, unconcerned.

She pursed her lips and then drew herself up in preparation. Tony was expecting a question about her job. Instead she said, "I suppose this is a good time to inform you that I planned to resign as Head of Weapons Development."

Tony's mouth dropped open. "You're quitting on me?" He asked, a bit hurt. That was decidedly not a good thing.

She shrugged. "Development is included in Manufacturing," she reminded. "Technically you just laid me off. But after what I saw over there, I wouldn't have been able to perform that job anymore. Need to reprioritize," she tossed back.

He hummed in understanding. "What about non-weapons related jobs?" Tony fished. He was relieved when she grinned at him.

"I was hoping you would bring something like that up." Her eyes sparkled in a way he associated with her coming up with a new design. "I think I have something you might be interested in. Not that it will save you from the public thrashing you are going to get for closing down manufacturing," she warned.

He titled his head, conceding her point. "What is it?" He wondered.

She arched one of her dark eyebrows arrogantly, "Wearable thermoelectric generators."

"Really?" He gave her a skeptical look.

"I need to mock up a proof of concept, but the math says it will work." Angela's lips titled into a rueful grin. "I went some weird places while I was trying to fix my problem."

Tony grimaced. Considering the original problem was fixed by making a fist sized hole in her chest, he could buy her going weird places. As he was mulling over possible specs for the tech she mentioned, she went on to talk about an idea involving perovskite solar cells. Then, she continued on a rabbit trail about solar reactive paint.

His eyebrows climbed higher up his forehead with each idea. "Okay," he huffed, holding up a hand to stop her. There was a reason she was the one he chose to collaborate with occasionally. "We'll come up with something," Tony assured her. "But after," he reminded.

She bit her lip and nodded. "After," she agreed.

"Short stop first." He wanted to visit the arc reactor. It was the inspiration for his survival after all.

They parked in front of the steel and glass portico of the factory's power plant. Tony left Angela and Happy with the car and went in alone. Staring up at the large blue and red piece of machinery, he contemplated his recent decision. No matter how he looked at it he couldn't find it in himself to regret shutting down Weapons.

He blinked, and behind his closed eyelids a flash of stacks of Stark Industries weapons under the desert sun appeared. Behind him the doors to the building hissed open. He glanced back to see Obadiah walk up to the rail in front of the arc.

"Well, that... That went well," Obie said around his cigar.

Tony looked down. Shit. That was not a promising start to a conversation. "Did I just paint a target on the back of my head?" He wondered.

Obie took his cigar out of his mouth. "Your head? What about my head?" The man paced behind him. "What do you think the over-under on the stock drop is gonna be tomorrow?"

Tony reached up, pulling off his tie. "Optimistically, 40 points."

"At minimum," Obie bit out.

"Yep," Tony agreed quietly. The elder man put up with a lot of Tony's crap. It always bothered him a little when he upset his mentor.

Obadiah finally settled beside him. "Tony, we're a weapons manufacturer," he started to lecture.

Tony turned to him and tried to explain. "Obie, I just don't want a body count

to be our only legacy." 'My only legacy,' he thought.

It would be if they didn't get things in hand. He had no idea how to do that besides cutting off the source. There were too many ways for his tech to fall through the gaps. Without Angela giving him a heads up, Tony wouldn't have even known it was possible until he saw that stash in Afghanistan.

Obie continued over him. "That's what we do," the older man impatiently explained. "We're iron mongers. We make weapons."

Tony wasn't prepared to back down. "It's my name on the side of the building," he protested.

"And what we do keeps the world from falling into chaos," his mentor continued.

"Not based on what I saw," Tony insisted. "We're not doing a good enough job," he informed the elder man. "We can do better. We're gonna do something else." Tony thought of the few ideas Angela had bounced him in the car. He could do that, move his company toward clean energy.

Obie shook his head in disbelief. "Like what? You want us to make baby bottles?" He asked sarcastically.

Tony ignored the older man's dig. "I think we should take another look into arc reactor technology." His mind was buzzing with applications already.

A skeptical look slid over Obadiah's face. "Come on." He gestured to the large reactor in front of them, his voice rising in consternation. "The arc reactor, that's a publicity stunt! Tony, come on." Obie paced away from him and then turned back. "We built that thing to shut the hippies up!"

"It works," Tony reminded.

"Yeah," Obie admitted. "As a science project. The arc was never cost effective. We knew that before we built it." His mentor walked around behind him again, but Tony had caught the look on the man's face. He was fishing.

"Arc reactor technology," Obie continued. "That's a dead end, right?

"Maybe." Tony looked up at the reactor, then turned around to face Obadiah.

"Am I right? We haven't had a breakthrough in that in what? Thirty years." The elder man was wheedling.

"That's what they say," Tony answered flippantly. He squinted at his friend and then decided to call him out. "Could you have a lousier poker face? Just tell me, who told you?"

"Never mind who told me. Show me," Obie demanded. He gestured to Tony's chest with the hand still holding his cigar.

"It's Rhodey or Pepper," Tony surmised.

"I want to see it," the elder man pressed.

"Okay, Rhodey," Tony concluded. Pepper was much more discrete.

He released the strap on his sling to free his hand. After a quick glance around for other people, he slipped free a handful of buttons on his shirt and held it open.

Obie scrutinized the glowing circle in Tony's chest, his face shifting from stern to excited. "Okay," he chuckled. He stepped forward, large hands reaching to re-button Tony's shirt as he also scanned the room.

"It works," Tony declared. And it would keep working. He could build on it.

Blowing a breath out his nose, Obadiah slung a heavy arm over Tony's shoulder. "Listen to me, Tony. We're a team. Do you understand? There's nothing we can't do if we stick together, like your father and I." He gestured between the two of them with his free hand.

Tony looked back up at the arc and grinned ruefully. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads-up, okay? But if I had," he began to reason.

"Tony." Obie shook his head reprovingly. "Tony, no more of this 'ready, fire, aim' business. You understand me?" The older man asked.

Taken aback by his phrasing, Tony's gaze darted up to his mentor's face. "That was Dad's line."

Obie dropped his arm, pulling back a little. "You gotta let me handle this. We're gonna have to play a whole different kind of ball now." Tony picked up his discarded clothes, and Obadiah put a hand on his shoulder to guide him out. "We're going to have to take a lot of heat. I want you to promise me that you're gonna lay low."

"Sure," Tony agreed. "I can do low."

…...

On the way to his house, Tony admitted that he didn't have all the materials necessary for the fabrication of a miniature arc reactor. Angela felt a small amount of disappointed at the news, but he assured her he'd have everything within the next week. She'd asked Happy to drop her off at her apartment and was quickly vetoed by their boss.

"What'd I say about rabid media? I'm pretty sure I said something." His tone was falsely confused and Angela scowled. "Hey, if you want to rock your new hardware on E! News…"

She cut him off. "They're going to bother you, not me."

He blinked at her. "Really? 'Cause I think they might be a little interested in getting a comment from my convoy bomb buddy." Angela's lips parted to argue. "How about a sound bite from the Development Head of the department I just canned?" He asked sardonically.

"Okay. Alright." She held her hands up in capitulation. It would be a disaster for a reporter to catch sight of her new hardware. The picture would be front page news. Besides, the chance she had to skip out of the media blitz was gone the minute he announced Weapons was shut down.

Tony hummed in satisfaction.

Angela pulled her phone out of her bag and tapped out a quick text to Mike, letting him know she would be staying with her boss at his home. She noticed there was a missed call from an unknown number and a new voicemail.

"Who are you texting?" Tony asked, leaning over to try to see her screen.

She angled it away from him. "My brother. Letting him know where I'll be."

"You always let your brother know where you are?" He questioned sarcastically.

"Only when I almost die, drag him to Italy, and then rope him into doing battle with doctors so I can put an electromagnet in my chest." She answered sweetly.

"Point," he conceded, leaning back. "He okay with that?"

"Me staying with you, or the electromagnet?" She teased.

"With me," he clarified, dropping his eyes to her phone again briefly.

"He knows you're helping me," she soothed. "He's good."

She watched him take a deep breath and then sigh. "We need to talk about confidentiality."

Angela settled further back in the seat and put her phone away. "My life is liability waivers and nondisclosure agreements," she mused. "Have what you need signed drawn up."

Tony kicked his legs out and relaxed back beside her. "I'm not going to need anything drawn up. I'm switching your job title to independent R&D until I can get an energy department set up." Angela stared at him in surprise. "Your non disclosure agreements still stand."

Then why mention confidentiality? Angela studied him and realized the timing of their descent into legal talk. "You want to make sure I'm going to keep the details of the arc reactor from my brother?" It was more a statement than a question.

His gaze focused on hers. "Proprietary technology," he reminded.

She took a moment to chew the thought over. When the knowledge of the miniature arc reactors came out, and it would, people with information would undoubtedly be hassled. "Well, it's covered then," she reminded. "I wouldn't get into specs with Mike anyway. He's smart enough to understand, but it's not what he's interested in. He'll be happy to know I have something that works and leave it at that."

Tony nodded and Angela's attention was drawn to the gate they were pulling up in front of. She couldn't see it yet, but she knew the Stark Complex West lay beyond. A few weeks there and she'd be free of her damn tether. Then she'd be set for getting back to normal life. It was a wonderful thought.

…...

Notes: This is a big transitional chapter and has quite a few chunks of the movie in it. I'm not happy with it, but those scenes do need to be included and I didn't think I could get away with brushing them off. Ah well, next week we finally get back into motion.