Disclaimer: I still don't own The Heavy, or Iron Man. I just sewed them together so I had a shirt to wear today. They keep complaining about unsafe workplaces. I think I might need a lawyer.
Author's Note: The song is good throughout, but I suggest listening to it from the beginning starting at the dash mark in the second scene.
Chapter 18: Learning To Fly
The Heavy- Same Ol'
"Day eleven. Test thirty seven. Configuration two point oh," Tony enunciated for the camera. "Panda is on fire safety because Dum-E can't tell the difference between on fire and…"
Angela broke in. "On the ceiling? On the floor?"
Tony pointed a finger at her. It took some extra effort. The tech was kind of heavy. "Don't sass me. I'm not the only one playing pinball," he tutted.
She rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but Dum-E never tried to extinguish me," she pointed out.
Tony shot her an unimpressed look. Dum-E hadn't been on fire safety those times. It was an unfair comparison. He continued, "Alright. Nice and easy." He bent his knees and centered his weight. "Seriously. Just gonna start off with one percent thrust capacity."
When he looked up at Angela, he saw she was staring at him with a focused intensity. Tony met her gaze and knew they were both willing the current test to be successful. "And three, two, one," he called.
The thrusters kicked on with a heavy whoosh of ignition. He immediately had to divert his attention to correcting his balance as he got used to the feeling of the force holding him off the ground.
Wobbling left then right, he could feel the oscillations in his balance growing with each minor overcorrection. After about ten seconds in the air he knew he was hitting a failure point in his control so cut the power. With a clank he landed and immediately had to struggle to keep from tipping backwards. But it had worked. Tony felt triumph start to grow within him. He was the best.
"Okay," he breathed. His heart was pounding in excitement. They had achieved a hover. It was time to go for directed flight. From the corner of his vision he saw Angela fidgeting. Turning to her and holding out his arms he proclaimed smugly, "Not on fire."
"Small mercies," she quipped a little tightly. "Come on," she urged. "We have three more tests to run."
"Alright," he agreed, feeling the manic flutter of creation. "Let's show or blow." Tony positioned himself back in the center of the platform. He briefly turned to Angela and asked playfully, "Are you this pushy with your engineering minions?"
"Worse." She narrowed her eyes in a mock threat. "You do not want me managing you," she informed him. Then she proceeded to manage him by pointing and commanding, "Testing."
He chuckled but obliged. "Let's bring it up to two point five," he ordered. This was going to be the one. He could feel it. "Three, two, one." With a gust of smoke he was back off the ground.
There was some sparking from the left stabilizer but nothing unusual. Tony was able to steady himself easier the second time. He hung there for a moment tilting back and forth to keep himself stable, then he straightened his bent knees. The tiny movement sent him sliding through the air, across the lab, and towards the garage entrance.
Angela immediately jogged after him but kept her distance. There wasn't much she could do.
With a deep grunt Tony tried to regain control. His efforts towards stabilization were working his core pretty hard. He looked around and found himself at the end of his line of cars.
"Okay," he said in trepidation. "This is where I don't want to be." The last word drug out into a whine of protest as he began moving over the tops of his cars.
Tony tucked his knees, trying to keep the repulsor blasts away from the vehicles and change his direction of flight. "Not the cars. Not the cars," he chanted. "Yikes." He flew over the whole row but it didn't seem like he'd done any damage.
Papers went flying and glasses broke as he maneuvered over a desk. 'Okay,' he thought glancing back. 'A little damage.'
"Look out," Angela cried. He flashed his attention to her and saw her pointing ahead of him. "Tony, wall!"
When he followed her gesture his eyes widened in alarm at the approaching concrete. In reflex he held both his hands up to stop his momentum. The force sent him ricocheting back over another work station. More papers went flying and a computer monitor fell over, but he was headed in the direction of the testing platform again.
He saw Angela following his movements with wide eyes and laughed nervously. "Could be worse. Could be worse," he assured. "We're fine."
A moment later he skimmed overtop of U, looking down to see the camera pointed up at him. Once over the testing pad Tony managed to center himself with a few more movements. He swung there, slowly rotating, before powering down the thrusters. With a grunt and a metallic thud he landed heavily. His arms pin wheeled and he took a few short steps back to keep himself from falling.
Once he gained his balance Tony noticed his breathing was rapid and there was sweat on his forehead. He felt invincible. Looking at Angela, he smugly announced, "Yeah. I can fly."
She gave a bright laugh and walked over to help him out of the tech.
Fifteen minutes later Tony stood off to the side of the platform and watched as Angela took up a testing position.
The shirt she had sacrificed to do power testing in was an old, black, Nine Inch Nails concert t-shirt. It clung to her bust and hips, and was tucked into the dark wash blue jeans she had on. Tony took a moment to admire her physique, very appreciative of how the tech strapped to her arms and legs completed the image of an engineer's wet dream.
He chased the thought out of his head in favor of wondering if they'd be lucky enough to sweep this phase of the testing successfully. Logically, if his worked hers should too. They'd run the trials on the gauntlets concurrently and had gone back to do a quick battery of checks on her boots once they were finished. She should be good.
"The pivot points for balance are touchy," he warned.
In preparation she bent her knees and held her arms out to her sides. "I'm not going to crash into one of your cars," she flippantly replied.
Tony watched her flex her fingers. It was a sure sign of her nerves. "I'm less concerned about the cars and more concerned about you hitting a wall." He glanced around at the lab. They'd been a bit hasty in prepping the place for a flight test.
Angela looked up at him with a smirk on her face. "As you so joyfully pointed out, it wouldn't be the first time."
He grinned conspiratorially. So far they'd beaten themselves up a little experimenting. "True, but lets avoid a repeat."
She centered herself and counted off, starting as he had at one percent. Angela lifted into the air in a rush of wind and noise, wobbling more than he thought he had. He could see her pinched expression of concentration as she struggled to remain balanced. After about ten seconds she cut the thrusters and landed, overbalancing forward and taking quick steps to catch herself.
When she straightened back up her lips were parted and her eyes shone. Little strands of hair fell around her face. She blew at one ineffectually. "Hey," she called. "Come here for a second."
Tony tilted his head in question, but crossed the platform to her. Angela turned her back to him. "Can you pull the hair away from my face, please?"
He blinked in surprise at her request. Tony supposed it couldn't be too comfortable having hair in your eyes while trying to fly. He'd never put a woman's hair up before though. His hands raised and hovered ineffectually around the back of her head. "How do I?" He trailed off.
She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Just pull the band out and then grab all the hair into a tail and wrap the band around it." He started to reach his hands out and she added, "Gently. Please don't yank my hair."
Tony cautiously pulled the tie out of her hair. A few dark strands came off with it, but she didn't wince so he assumed it was fine. A whiff of whatever the hell she bathed with tickled his nose, mixed with the scent of warm, slightly sweaty, female. It was a scent he couldn't name but reminded him of the beach.
Trying to divert his mind from puzzling over her perfume, Tony swept his hands over the sides of her face. The stray hairs wisped softly against his palms. His fingers twitched and he ended up taking an unnecessary step closer to her. A quick flash of her bent over a work table went through his mind and he had to grit his teeth.
Eventually he'd gathered as much hair as he could and rather sloppily scooped it back into a queue. It was lower than hers had been, but it seemed to get the job done. When he finished he took a few steps back and Angela turned around.
"Thank you." Tony realized he must have had a strange expression on his face because she followed with a, "Sorry, Boss."
"Don't worry about it." Did his voice sound lower than usual? "It's fine, just hair." Long, pretty, soft, sweet smelling hair on a very nice looking woman. He cleared his throat. "Did we talk about you calling me Boss? Because I feel like we've had that conversation."
"Sure have," she said glibly, positioning herself for the next test run. Tony stepped off to the side again, trying to calm down and discreetly adjust himself.
"Okay," she drew the word out. "You were right about the pivot points. That felt touchy," she assessed.
Tony shifted on his feet, thankful for the sudden surge of nerves about the test. "It'll be worse for this one. Small movements," he coached.
He saw her draw in a breath and then she counted off again. She rose a little faster than he did and he wondered about resistance. When she straightened her legs, she ran into the same problem he had. Angela started moving forward toward the slanted ceiling he'd crashed into months before.
"No ceilings," she commanded pulling her hands up in front of her. The thrusters paused her on the back side of the toolboxes before she dropped her arms to her side and hung steady for a moment.
"Okay," she commented. "I think I get the directional shifts." With a rotation of her elbows she slowly turned and maneuvered back toward the platform. A few tools rattled when she passed back over the boxes and some papers fluttered to the ground. She hissed and tried to tuck her knees, but it made her flight unsteady and she slid momentarily toward the computer bank.
After a close call with Dum-E, she got back into position and cut the power. Her feet hit the ground and her arms pin wheeled wildly. By the time she gave a last wobble her hair had half fallen out of his pony tail and her lips were pulled down in a grimace. Carefully, she rotated her shoulders.
"Well?" He asked.
Green eyes met his. A dark, arrogant brow raised high on her forehead. "Yeah. I can fly."
An involuntary, almost inaudible whimper sounded in the back of his throat. He needed to focus. "What's with the shoulders?" He asked.
She hummed, still shifting her back slightly. "I think I'm going to have to start an upper body workout," she admitted. "And I need a cap or something," she mumbled and tossed her head. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a windswept tousle.
Damn, that was hot. Tony forced a chuckle, saved the image in his memory - he'd need it later - and tried again to divert himself. "Okay, let's get you undressed."
He closed his eyes at his Freudian slip. Damn it. He could handle working with her even in his most debauched days. What was the problem now?
…...
A few days later Angela pulled her attention from Tony's silver clad form to her own chromed face mask. It was different to maneuver in the suit. She was still fairly dexterous, but the flexing of her feet was impaired. She tromped around the lab. The effect was rather intimidating.
A mental note about closer fitting clothing was added to her list of things to change. It went along with a hood instead of a skull cap and more flexibility in her hip joints.
She raised the face mask up and fitted it into her helmet. Shades of blue lit up the inside as the display came online. Angela took a moment to get used to having her face covered, although as soon as the external view came online she no longer felt closed in.
"JARVIS?" She questioned. "Are you loaded in?"
"Yes Ma'am. We're online and ready." The smooth British voice of Tony's AI answered.
"Engage the heads up display," she ordered. Her eyes traveled around the information showing up. "Import the preferences attached to my User ID."
"Importing now," JARVIS answered.
Angela turned her head from one side of the lab to the other, taking in how clear the picture was. The display started picking out parts on the cars and identifying equipment in the lab. She looked over the functions available to her and gave a small huff of satisfaction.
The programming was mainly Tony's doing. She'd brainstormed with him over the various flight instrumentation they'd need, but kept her fingers out of the coding. She wasn't a computer novice; during her Master's she had written her own drafting program. But for the Mark II, JARVIS was the platform through which all information traveled.
She shook her head in wonder. It had taken her and Tony two months to collaborate on the repulsor design for the Freedom Line, mostly over email. Under six months with the man in his lab and they had two personal flight suits.
"Preferences have been uploaded. Calibrating virtual environment," The AI announced.
"Do a check on control surfaces for me, please," Angela asked.
"As you wish."
She watched the data scroll by on the side of the HUD. Her designs for the body control surfaces seemed to be working correctly. Around her she could feel the suit shifting as it went through the function.
"Test complete. Preparing to power down and complete diagnostics," JARVIS informed.
Shifting her weight, she prepared to take off the mask when Tony's voice came over the com. "Hold on, JARVIS." Angela turned in time to see the end of his own control surface trial. "Do a weather and ATC check," the man commanded. Her eyes widened in incredulity. "Start listening in on ground control," he finished.
"Tony," Angela clipped, an uneasy tone creeping into her voice.
"Sir, there are still terabytes of calculations needed before an actual flight," the AI protested.
"JARVIS," Tony drawled. "Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk."
"This is not a good idea," Angela warned.
"Then stay," he commented and she couldn't help but take it as a challenge. "Ready in three, two, one."
His repulsors kicked on with a low, throbbing hum. He hovered for a moment before tipping forward and shooting up the ramp from the garage.
Angela swore. She could hear the crazy man whooping through the still open connection. With a frustrated noise Angela selected the flight mode for her suit and tried to prepare herself. Underneath the thread of fear, and the knowledge it was much too soon for a test flight, was a growing sense of excitement.
"Perhaps following is not the best idea," JARVIS piped in.
The HUD lit up with information about air traffic and a digital wireframe of the topography of the area. "I know," she groaned. But she was going to do it anyway.
Her repulsors kicked on. The feeling akin to standing on two rafts. Once Angela gained her balance, she sucked in a breath, and leaned forward.
The acceleration was intense. The ramp lights flashed below her and she held her breath until she cleared the garage. Then she was shooting straight up into the night sky. The moon was above her and the ground disappeared beneath her. It was the most awesome thing she'd ever done.
A moment later the Stark Complex West sprawled below, a great white collection of circles and curves. Beyond was the dark expanse of ocean, further out the lights from Santa Monica. She moved out over the ocean with her pulse heavy in her ears.
A dot on the HUD showed her the position of Tony, but Angela was more focused on her line of horizon. She dipped back down along the edge of the cliff, skirted the point, and checked her altimeter.
"Handles like a dream," Tony commented breathlessly.
After taking some time to get used to the navigation, she pulled a tight banking turn. Angela couldn't help a giggle. Impishly, she poured on some speed. The water rolled only yards below as she shot forward and a high noise of exhilaration escaped her.
"Enjoying yourself back there?" Tony's amused voice filtered through the com.
She gained some altitude, barrel rolled to the left, and hooted in joy. Some distance ahead of her she could see the light from his thrusters. "Absolutely," she admitted.
A warm, giddy laugh rolled back across the com.
Angela saw him swing around the carnival at the pier and then head inland. She followed his path, curving around the Ferris wheel. A kid riding it was pointing at her and she laughed, accelerating further. Below her grids of light swept passed and she angled to climb.
"Alright let's see what this thing can do," Tony commented. "What's the SR-71's record?" He asked.
"The altitude record for fixed wing flight is eighty five thousand feet sir," JARVIS answered.
"Records are made to be broken," Tony observed. "Come on," he yelled.
She'd reached his position but he was rocketing straight up above her. Angela turned to follow, keeping her rise in altitude slower. She banked in a wide upward spiral around his flight path.
Before she could figure out if it was worth it to try to caution the man, JARVIS' voice came through the coms. "Sir, there is a potentially fatal build up of ice occurring."
Angela craned her neck to target Tony on her HUD. He was headed straight up at tremendous speed. She kicked more power to her thrusters, not trying to catch him, just get closer. If JARVIS noticed ice on her suit she'd drop it back down.
"Higher," Tony grunted.
She watched anxiously as he continued to climb, unhappy with his determination to push the suit so hard on their first real world test. Then one after the other his repulsors winked off. The com connection cut and her eyes widened at the realization he was up there with her in a dead suit. "JARVIS, find him," Angela commanded.
A point was identified on her screen and Angela dove up toward it, rolling slightly to the right. As she approached the indistinct speck evolved into a clear view of the suit. Tony was falling on his back. With a sudden shower of ice, his flaps deployed and he flipped to his stomach.
Just before she contacted him from a shallow angle, she cut her repulsors. The slam of impact vibrated through her. She scrabbled to get her arms hooked under his arm pits as they tumbled wildly in a mess of falling metal and limbs. Below her the buildings and streets of Los Angeles grew larger at an alarming rate.
Finally she got him propped on her biceps. Angela kicked her thrusters back on, swinging them up and away. Even though the suit took most of it, her shoulders and arms strained under his weight. She grunted in pain. About that time his suit's eyes lit back up and the com reconnected. He fired his own repulsors back on and Angela abruptly dropped her arms. She shot away from him at an angle, swinging around the side of a high rise.
The crazy man was laughing uproariously. At the sound anger flashed through her like an old familiar fire. "Idiot," Angela shouted. "What the hell was that?" She swore.
"Easy," Tony chuckled. "Put your claws away, Panda. I'm fine," he placated.
"You could be the world's richest pancake right now," she berated him. "For a flight stunt!" Her heart was still pounding in her chest, this time in fear.
Ahead of her Tony curved back toward Malibu and Angela followed. "We need to know the limits," he explained easily. "And now we know we have an icing problem to fix. Besides, you had me."
"Icing problem," Angela muttered sourly. That was putting it lightly. At least the manual flaps worked and the suit booted back up.
"Lighten up a bit, angry bear," her insane boss teased. "Meet you in the shop."
She eyed the fast approaching point that Tony's house was on. He was flying incredibly low to the water. Much lower than she had earlier. The man was a menace. He was going to end up killing himself in the suit and somehow she would end up at fault.
Angela shivered as what had been intended as a sarcastic thought ended up playing on a still raw nerve. During the moment she winced and closed her eyes in reaction, she lost sight of Tony again.
Not overly worried, as he was probably landing back at the mansion, Angela focused on her own arrival. The angle of approach flashed on her HUD and she lined herself up with the garage ramp. Deceleration was going to be a problem.
She heard Tony call, "Cut the power," to JARVIS. There was a beat of silence and then a resounding crash filled her ears. Her eyes widened and she wondered if Tony had come in too quickly.
"You alright?" She asked.
"Fine," Tony replied with a groan.
With some quick mental calculations Angela slowed her speed. She shot down the ramp, nearly skimming the floor, and then quickly turned her palms to bring herself upright. She shot toward the ceiling and immediately cut the power. With a heavy thud she landed, knees buckling and forcing her to put a fist down to avoid face planting. Looking around, she realized that even with her caution she'd still shot fairly far into the garage before stopping. She'd also put a divot in the floor. That was going to take practice.
A blast of extinguisher foam from her left startled her. Angela noticed the air in the shop looked dusty and the car alarms were going off.
When the foam finally cleared, she could make out that Tony was laying on the hood of the crushed Shelby. She glanced up and saw the hole in the ceiling.
"Really?" Angela wondered aloud.
Tony just laid his head back against the car in defeat.
…...
After getting out of the suit, Angela retreated upstairs to tend to her bruises. Once in her room she peeled off her band t-shirt. Even with her tighter fitting clothing, the suit pressed every seam and any excess fabric folded against her skin. Her laptop caught her eye and while she waited for the tub to fill she browsed around the internet.
The best option seemed to be some combination of under armor or bicycling suit. When she came across a man's version she smirked.
"Hey, JARVIS?" She called.
"Yes, Miss Harper?"
"I'm thinking of ordering under suits for the Mark II's. If I give you the brand and style can you fill in Tony's measurements?" She asked.
"That is within my capabilities," he agreed.
Angela spent a few minutes dallying over styles before she chose one and completed her order. The shop was local, so she negotiated a healthy bonus if they could get the suits to her by morning.
"Thanks, JARVIS." She shucked the rest of her clothing before heading toward the bath.
"You are quite welcome." Angela swore the AI sounded amused.