Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Iron Man. I also do not own Olive Tree or his disturbing 90s outfits. Seriously, they give me retro heebie-jeebies. If wide leg pants come back into style then I'm calling the bell-sleeved trend. Woe to the people who do not learn from fashion history.
Chapter 17: Small Battles
Oliver Tree- Hurt
The intercom buzzed and Angela ignored it. It was Tony's intercom. She was still being kind of rude because it was probably Pepper. But she was busy strapping herself into a flight stabilizer and half hooked to the table. Tony, on the other hand, was just hovering.
"I should do this test," he argued again.
Angela double checked the connection to her arc reactor. "The last test you did you ended up in the ceiling, again," she reminded. She'd given up any kind of professionalism around the man. It wore on her patience too much to try not to react to him. Besides she'd been living with him for two months. Happy made comments.
"Ouch, Panda," he pouted at her. "We agreed we wouldn't mention that."
She rolled her eyes. "No. You said we shouldn't mention it."
"Exactly," he exclaimed.
"I never agreed," she finished. The intercom buzzed again. "Are you going to get that? Because I'm kind of," she trailed off and gestured to the cords around her.
"Later," he dismissed. He leaned across her body and reached over to close the cuff around her bicep. Angela pursed her lips in frustration at the man.
"Stop." She brushed away his fussing hand. "You're doing that thing we talked about."
Tony turned his head toward her. "What thing?" With her sitting and him bent over her arm, they were at eye level. He was crowding her again. A waft of aftershave tickled her nose.
"The micromanaging thing," she reminded, picking up a screwdriver.
"I don't micromanage," he protested. She tried to lean forward but his torso was almost hovering over her lap. "And this is my shop. I can manage how I want," he continued.
"You're in my way." She actually had to duck under his arm to get at what she wanted to work on. Having his arm basically laying over her back wasn't as weird as she wanted it to be. And the man still didn't move. She noted he was warm and solid. "And hovering," she complained.
"Pushy Panda," he accused.
After she finished tightening the connection she ducked out from under his arm and he tugged at the cuff again. She was convinced he enjoyed being difficult. It wasn't a suspicion anymore.
"I swear," Angela half groaned, looking up at the ceiling so she wasn't staring into her boss's eyes at a distance of inches. Because that way lead no where good. "One of these times I'm going to lose my patience with you."
"You haven't yet?" he asked teasingly.
Angela dropped her eyes to his and smiled sweetly. "Have I hit you yet?"
Tony raised his eyebrows. "I thought you only did that to people trying to hurt you?"
"Oh, you're hurting me," she assured.
He frowned, his attention dropping to her arm. "How's it sitting? You still have a bruise," he pointed to her bicep. Happy hadn't been joking about refreshing her self defense, starting with how to deal with someone pulling her hair.
She shook her head in wry amusement. Just like that he pulled her back from the brink of murdering him. "It's sitting fine. The bruise is fine. Let me get it off the stand and see how it feels," she urged.
"Alright." He finally backed up. "Okay."
Angela grabbed her right arm in her left and hefted to get it up. There was a metallic click as she disengaged the stand.
"How is it having it on your right arm?" Tony asked with a note of concern.
"It's okay. It's not someone just grabbing my arm," she assured. "It's fine." All the connections around her chest and down her arm were a little uncomfortable. They reminded her a bit too closely of having the battery. But they were temporary so she could handle it.
The security door beeped as Angela stood from the chair. She shifted her feet, compensating for the extra weight. Glancing back at the door she saw Pepper entering, carrying a brown wrapped box with a coffee cup on top.
"I've been buzzing you. Did you hear the intercom?" She asked.
Tony answered distractedly, "Yeah everything's," he trailed off and processed the red head's words. "What?"
Angela's attention drifted back to the flight stabilizer. She carefully flexed her fingers around the tech in her palm. It was a good fit. Keeping the repulsor facing away from her, she rotated her wrist and analyzed her range of motion.
"Obadiah's upstairs," Pepper announced.
"Great. Great. I'll be right up," he promised, his eyes on Angela's arm. "How's the fit? Not confining?"
"No. It's good," Angela answered. She did a few flexes with her elbow. Everything seemed alright. The weight was different, but it wasn't too heavy. The finished stabilizer's heft would be compensated for by the suit anyway.
The sound of Pepper's heels clicking on the floor reached her ears. "I thought you said you were done making weapons."
Angela turned her head and smiled at the red head's concerned look. "It's not a weapon," she greeted.
Tony moved a few steps further from Angela's side. "That is a flight stabilizer. Panda's design. It's completely harmless," he assured.
Angela braced herself and hit the mechanism to power up the stabilizer. It whined and blue light shot down the cables connecting her arc reactor to the repulsor. There was a bang and she was flung backwards to the floor. Tools rattled on the ground as they fell around her.
"Angela?" Tony called in panic. His shoes appeared next to her face and Angela rolled her head back to look up at him. "Are you hurt?"
Maybe. A little. Damn, that packed a punch. Angela groaned. She'd forgotten the Newton's laws. "Just my pride," she admitted ruefully.
Well, they had both succeeded in knocking themselves on their asses with the project. That probably didn't bode well.
Above her Tony snickered. "Should we never speak of this?"
Angela glared. She wanted to rub that smug grin, and the goatee around it, right off his face.
"Oh my God," Pepper exclaimed. "That was harmless?"
"Mostly harmless," Angela admitted, sitting up. It definitely had potential though.
Tony reached down a hand to her and Angela grabbed it to hoist herself off the floor. He turned to Pepper and confessed, "I didn't expect that."
Angela set her right arm back in to the stand and grabbed the screwdriver again. Tony helpfully rolled her chair back over. "Thanks," she sat down.
When she glanced back up Tony was still hovering and Pepper was looking at him funny. "Go. Shoo." Angela waved the Phillips at him. "You have someone waiting on you," she reminded him.
"You'll be alright to get out of," he trailed off when Angela fisted her hand around the tool and held it up threateningly. "Right." Tony turned to Pepper and offered, "Let's go before Panda gets violent."
"I can aim," Angela called over her shoulder as they retreated. "You're still in the room."
When the security door closed, and she lost sight of their feet up the stairs, she dropped the screwdriver on the bench to rub the back of her head. "Ow," she whined. At least he hadn't outright laughed at her.
…...
As Tony lunged up the steps into the living room strains of piano music reached his ears. He glanced to the left. Obadiah sat in the alcove by the fireplace. He'd shed his suit jacket and was playing his way through something that sounded pretentious.
"How'd it go?" Tony asked, crossing the room toward the living area. Earlier that day there'd been a meeting in New York that Obie had to attend.
The elder man raised his head, turning his attention away from the piano keys to give Tony a look. Ignoring the non-answer, Tony instead honed in on the pizza box resting on his coffee table. His mentor taking the time to grab pizza from Manhattan was never a good sign.
"It went that bad, huh?" Tony mused, seating himself on one of the wooden stools near the cross-section of old growth redwood.
In his peripheral vision he saw Pepper pick her way around the opposite side of the table to sit on the couch. She immediately reclaimed her laptop and became engrossed in work.
Without pausing in his playing the elder man chided, "Just because I brought pizza back from New York doesn't mean it went bad."
Tony opened the box and glanced inside. "Sure it doesn't," he said in disbelief. It was a cheese pizza from Ray's, his favorite. It definitely didn't go well. "Oh boy," he mumbled.
"It would have gone better if you were there," Obie complained. The music cut off as he picked up his drink and stood from the bench.
Tony grabbed a slice and took a bite, humming a negative. "You told me to lay low," he reminded. "That's what I've been doing. I lay low and you take care of all…" He trailed off to dab at his lips with a napkin.
"Hey, come on. In public. The press," Obie walked heavily down the steps, the ice in his drink tinkling. "This was a board of directors meeting," he informed.
Tony turned his head at that. "This was a board of directors meeting?" He didn't remember hearing about a board meeting.
Obie sat heavily on the other wooden stool with a sigh. "The board is claiming you have posttraumatic stress. They're filing an injunction," the elder man informed grimly.
Tony dropped his hands to his knees. "A what?" He asked incredulously.
"They want to lock you out," Obie continued.
"Why cause the stocks dipped forty points?" Tony asked sarcastically. "We knew that was gonna happen," he argued.
Pepper chimed in seriously. "Fifty six and a half."
Tony turned to look at her. "It doesn't matter," he said angrily. "We own the controlling interest in the company," he reminded.
Pepper glanced down and then gave him a level look. Tony tried to get a handle on his temper. It wasn't her fault.
"Tony," Obadiah drawled. "The board has rights, too," he reminded patiently. "They're making the case that you and your new direction isn't in the company's best interest."
Tony wiped his mouth again and rolled his eyes, trying to keep his cool. It collapsed at the board's criticism of his actions. "I'm being responsible," he defended. "That's a new direction for me, for the company," Tony quickly corrected himself.
Obie gave him an amused, open mouth smile, and Pepper looked back over at him skeptically. "I mean me, on the company's behalf being responsible for the way that…" He tried to recover, but Pepper just sighed and Tony gave up. They were ganging up on him. "This is great." With a jerk he stood, taking the pizza box with him.
"Oh come on," Obie muttered. "Tony," he called. "Tony!"
"I'll be in the shop." Tony said over his shoulder, walking toward the stairs.
"Hey. Hey!" The elder man gained his feet and followed Tony across the room. "Hey, Tony. Listen." Obadiah tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Tony turned to him with his jaw tight in frustration and waited.
His mentor's voice raised in exasperation. "I'm trying to turn this thing around but you got to give me something. Something to pitch them." He pointed a finger down at the arc reactor in Tony's chest. "Let me have the engineers analyze that. You know, draw up some specs." Obie gestured.
Tony immediately shook his head. "No." The arc reactor was keeping him alive, and not only him. There was no way he was letting that tech out into the world to be pulled apart. Especially not when someone had attacked Angela simply on suspicion of its existence. "No, absolutely not."
Obie continued to try to convince him. "It'll give me a bone to throw the boys in New York," he argued.
The board and Stark Industries had been given plenty of his designs over the years. It was his company. Tony was not going to roll over so they could get their greedy, backstabbing hands on the one thing he was keeping to himself. Raising his voice, Tony spoke over the elder man. "This one stays with me. That's it Obie. Forget it," he declared in a final tone.
"All right well, this stays with me, then." Obie said grabbing the pizza box out of Tony's hands. Tony blew a breath out his nose. Like that was going to sway him. It wasn't like he was a twenty one year old kid anymore.
After a moment Obie opened the pizza box and held it out toward him. "Go on, here, you can have a piece." When Tony reached into the box his mentor offered, "Take two."
Tony grabbed a couple pieces of pizza and turned to head back toward the lab. The discussion was over as far as he was concerned. He just wanted to get back to the shop and take his frustration out on building something.
Behind him the elder man wheedled. "You mind if I come down there and see what you're doing?"
"Good night, Obie," Tony called back, and speedily took the stairs downward.
…...
Angela heard Tony walk up behind her. "What are you doing?" He asked.
She tipped her head back to look up at him from over the back of the couch. "Trying to vent my frustration through a combination of caffeine and mindless television," she answered plainly. It seemed bad moods were going around. He had his the night before and now she was in a funk.
Tony moved around the couch and sat down next to her, squinting at the episode of Storm Chasers she was watching. Angela let her eyes slide back to the adventures of meteorologists. After a moment he pressed his shoulder against hers and asked, "Come on, Panda. You've been over here scowling at the TV for an hour. What's the story?"
Blowing out a heavy breath she turned her head back towards him. She sucked on her bottom lip and contemplated all the things that were bothering her. Finally she settled on, "It's still happening and I can't figure out who is doing it."
Next to her Tony set his jaw in anger. She'd shown him the few clues JARVIS had so far netted in his search. Whoever was stealing from Stark Industries was pulling a lot of strings, and with the board trying to shut Tony out, there was nothing they could do but keep trying to find the person responsible on their own.
He sighed. "Pepper says Obie's still looking. He's closing loopholes as fast as he finds them."
She hummed unhappily. It wasn't fast enough.
"We'll keep looking too. It's a matter of time before they screw up," he assured. "When they do, we'll be waiting."
Angela rolled her head against the back of the couch, trying to work the tension out of her neck. That was what was bothering her, time and waiting.
While she waited for the police to finish their investigation, or for the shadowy leader of the theft ring in SI to pop their head over the ramparts, she was trapped. Working on the Mark II, her green project, and remotely monitoring the progress of the construction of her house kept her busy, but she still made time to prowl through the company files manually. Her patience for the hunt was wearing thin, and she found little satisfaction in capturing the smaller prey.
Downing the last of her espresso, she set the cup on the table with a clink. Maybe a stimulant hadn't been a good idea to calm her down.
At least they had found out why Bein hadn't been in police custody. It was as simple as bail. She wanted to strangle the judge that granted that.
A pluck on her left shirt sleeve drew her attention and she turned back to Tony.
"Up," he commanded, already getting to his feet.
She rubbed a hand over her face but obediently stood. Tony called out to JARVIS to flip off the TV and dim the lab lights as he headed toward the door. Angela followed him out of the shop and up the stairs. He made a quick pit stop to pull out a bottle of wine and two glasses. The label on the bottle identified it as a winery she'd never tried before. One of her eyebrows raised in question.
"Pepper," he answered her unspoken query. "She mentioned you like to unwind with a glass of wine. Said it keeps you from doing bodily harm," he gave a shrug.
Angela huffed and shook her head. Sneaky woman probably knew she would eventually need it.
A bit of mischief entered his expression. "She said you're a fan of Joseph Phelps? Now who's a cheap date?" Tony grinned and continued to walk.
Falling into step beside him, she parried, "I never denied it. And, depending on the bottle, Joseph Phelps does not qualify as a cheap date."
"It does for me," he drawled.
She rolled her eyes.
Soon she had followed him all the way outside and down to the pool patio. It was a cool evening, but pleasant, and she could see distant lights where the shore curved. He pushed a decorative pillow off onto the deck and then sat down in the lounger. Angela folded herself down into the one next to him and tried to allow the sea breeze to unwind her.
She couldn't help wondering why Tony had brought her all the way out there. Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice.
"We will find them," he declared as he poured, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation. "Eventually."
Her lips twisted in displeasure. "Eventually," she agreed.
Angela took the opportunity to kick off her shoes. It was rather nice to be out of the house. She and Tony had taken to having the occasional meal on the main patio, but she hadn't been further from the house than that for weeks.
"And in the meantime," he handed her a glass of wine, "You'll stay here," he demanded.
"Don't you have a life to get back to?" Angela asked, unable to keep some sarcasm from slipping through. She took a sip of the wine and curled her legs up on the chaise. Being the forever housemate of a man like Tony Stark didn't strike her as a wise decision. Granted, he was fun to banter with, had a wonderful lab, and excellent wine, but those were not good reasons.
He smiled at her teasingly. "This is my life."
"I'm fairly certain there are more business meetings and public events involved in your life," she sassed him.
Tony kicked his legs up on the lounger and leaned back. "Can't do anything business related now." He sounded grumpy. "And I'm still laying low, so no public," he added.
Angela looked over at the man beside her, taking in his stiff shoulders and frown. For the first time she considered the fact that he may be just as frustrated with the apparent holding pattern of their lives as she was.
She nursed her wine and looked out over the ocean. "Yes," she hummed. "But that will probably clear up faster than attempting to find unknown person's involved in weapons trafficking and attempted kidnapping." Angela pondered the last sip of wine in her glass. Finally, she let out something that had been bothering her since her conversation with Happy months before. "I don't want to overstay my welcome."
There was a shuffling sound and then Tony was sitting sideways on the deck chair again. He reached across to take her glass to refill it. "For however long this takes, you will stay with me," he declared.
His hand brushed hers and she could feel the calluses on his fingers. Tony Stark, billionaire playboy. was a man who worked with his hands for a living. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do I seem like someone who offers things when I don't want to offer them?"
Angela huffed out a laugh and took her glass back. "No." She watched him watch her for a moment before telling him the truth. "I appreciate you allowing me to hide in your very secure mansion. It's a very pretty cage, but I miss my life."
Accepting that her life pre-Afghanistan was over was proving to be difficult, but she had hope that she could find a new level of normal that was similar. She missed the comfortable familiarity of going in to SI and working with her team. She missed not having to dress in layers. It would be wonderful not to glow in the dark. And she especially missed sleeping nights through on a regular basis.
There was a moment of silence before Tony said lowly, "I'm sorry," Angela felt her eyes widen. She didn't think she'd ever heard the man apologize and sound sincere before.
"For what?" She wondered.
In the low lighting of the pool area his eyes looked black. "For causing this. That you got involved with what's happening with my company."
Angela uncurled her legs and swung them over the side of the chaise. Her bare feet settled on the tile of the patio and she leaned towards him. He should not feel bad about her choices.
"Keeping myself apprized of what's going on around me professionally is how I've been able to gain the opportunities I've had." She waved a hand at his skeptical eyebrow. "I'll admit, it's also a pride thing. Unfortunately, this time, I ended up in something more complicated than I anticipated. It doesn't make it your fault and it doesn't make me regret my actions." she informed him.
If anything it had made her glad that she'd gotten her back up about the whole thing. It had pushed her to attempt to nail those responsible to the wall. Had she simply followed procedure and then let the discrepancies go, she'd still be unwittingly participating in atrocities. She suppressed a shiver and watched him consider what she said.
"You didn't cause this." The sincerity in her voice must have gotten to him, because he huffed a breath through his nose, but nodded.
"Sure you don't want a body guard? You wouldn't have to stay here then," he offered.
"No." She reached out to tentatively touch his knee. His eyes flicked down to her hand for a moment. "Really Tony, it's not you or the house. I'd feel this way anywhere," she assured. "Being here with you, actually being able to work, has been nice." She let her arm drop back against her leg and sighed. "It just seems like we're stuck in the marshes. I thought I could do this on my own, but maybe Mike was right."
"You're not on your own," Tony reminded, his voice gentle. When she hummed in agreement, he leaned in further and took on an air of conspiracy. "You know Panda, you're supposed to be relaxing," he murmured. "Pool, wine, stars," he gestured, "Relaxing." Lifting his glass to his lips he took a sip, keeping eye contact with her over the top.
A smile crept over her mouth and she allowed herself to be diverted from her poor mood by the man's humor. "This is supposed to be relaxing?" She asked him quietly. She could feel the strain on her forehead where she knew an eyebrow had winged its way towards her hair. Tony nodded with a happy grin. "Sitting next to my Boss's pool drinking wine with him late at night?" She tilted her head and squinted at him. "Sounds awkward," she teased.
His teeth flashed in the low light and he leaned back. "It's only awkward if you make it, Panda." Tony turned to seat himself fully in the lounger and then kicked his feet back up. "I'm considering going skinny dipping," he announced playfully.
Angela scoffed. She scooted herself back into her own chair, folded her legs, and put the throw pillow in her lap. "If you start taking off your clothes I am leaving."
"What about just the shirt?" He bargained.
She took a long drink of her wine, feeling some tension finally bleed away. "Leaving," she repeated.
…...
Notes: I don't actually think Salieri (which is what is playing in the movie during the scene) is pretentious. The Tony Stark in my head totally thinks it is though. Then again, he's willing to listen to Suicidal Tendencies. Nuff said.