Tony was growing frustrated with what he was working on, soon giving up for the moment and running a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. He was distracted, which wasn't good for the delicate work he was trying to do.

"Jarvis, update."

"Her temperature has risen, sir, and Miss Potts has left already for work, leaving you in charge of her."

Tony sighed, begrudgingly pushing up from the desk and heading upstairs. He hadn't asked for Jess to collapse in his home the night before, nor did he want to be the one taking care of her. He'd have Pepper do it, but she apparently was desperately needed at work with the lawyer out of commission. And despite it all, he kind of liked the spunky woman. He'd overheard what she'd done to defend him from Obadiah and felt he owed her something for that, especially when she collapsed not long after.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Exhaustion mostly. She's been hooked up to an IV for fluid intake and is on medication for her cold-like symptoms," Jarvis replied as he lightly nudged open the door to the guest bedroom.

Jess was sweating under the blankets that she'd unconsciously half-pushed off her body, brows furrowed and lightly shivering. It was a sad sight to see and Tony slowly moved over to pull the blankets back over her, only to pause. He'd forgotten Pepper had changed her into something more comfortable, but the tee-shirt was a little small, revealing a hint of her stomach and clinging tightly to her broad shoulders. I should have offered one of my shirts, she might be more comfortable. But what drew his attention then, were the pale white scars trailing up her arms and stomach.

"Jarvis, analyze these and give me information on her medical background."

A blue light ran over Jess before the AI answered.

"Marks indicate sharp trauma and burns. Judging by the size and shape, the burns are possibly from cigarettes. All injuries are over twelve years old. I have her medical files ready for viewing."

"Let me see them," he said quietly, brows furrowed as he covered Jess up and checked on her IV before walking out.

The files appeared over the coffee table as he grabbed a strong drink, settling before them and flipping through them with a frown. What the hell happened to her? Only one hospital visit before twelve years ago for a broken arm when she was eleven. Then, a major hospital visit around the same time as the car accident. He expanded that file, looking through it as he slipped on his glasses, his frown deepening.

"Is this right, Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir. According to her files, she is almost completely blind in the left eye due to trauma from the car accident."

He took off his glasses and sat back on the couch, staring at the report for a while. "But that doesn't explain the scars other than the ones on her eyebrow… Child abuse? Jarvis, give me information on her parents."

Another file replaced the medical ones.

"Janette Wilson. Deceased at thirty-one due to a sudden heart attack on the way to pick up Jess from school. She had a degree in Advanced Mathematics and used to work in a military airplane hangar where she met her husband, Samuel Norris, a mechanic."

"More information on Samuel Norris."

"Deceased at fifty-nine in a car accident, though police believed there was foul play involved."

"What kind of foul play?" He asked, a police report appearing in front of him.

"The police officer in charge, one Jason Gorge, stated in his report that the young woman involved in the incident had injuries that didn't coincide with the blast from the car. A firefighter on the case also further reported that the car was fully functional and wouldn't have crashed without human intervention."

"Analyze the crime scene, recreate the accident, and inform me of what you find."

Tony waited a moment for the computer to do as he said, watching as a hologram of a street was brought up and the situation from the reports playing out over it. Jess was lying on the ground outside the car and her father trapped inside before they were brought back upright and situated the way they would have been before the crash. Tony's gaze hardened as he watched the heavier man slam a fist hard into the left side of Jess's head, sending her smacking into the window. He then grabbed a hold of her throat and slammed her into the glass again, before Tony stopped the scene.

"Stop it."

The image flickered, and he stood, moving over to the side and expanding the image on Jess's right hand. She'd grabbed a tire iron under the dashboard.

"She caused the crash," he concluded, looking to the image of Samuel half-strangling Jess. "He was abusing her, had been abusing her, so she took matters into her own hands and…" He snapped his fingers and the image shifted as Jess whipped the tire iron up and slammed it across his head, making him lose control of the car as she opened the door and threw herself out. "This is why she changed majors, why she spoke about trauma like she knew. She caused the accident to kill her abusive father, rendering herself mostly blind on her left side. What do you think, Jarvis?"

"An accurate conclusion, sir."

"Do you think she's genuine?" He questioned, waving the hologram away and downing the rest of his drink.

"While I am not capable of determining human characteristics and personality, she has been doing her best to ensure you remain in control of your company, sir."

"She's a lawyer. It's her job."

"Yet, your previous lawyer was not nearly as invested," Jarvis countered. "She has logged in more hours than most of your employees do in a month, which may also play into account her ill health."

Tony frowned at the ceiling. "You better not be saying this is my fault."

"On the contrary, sir. I believe you and her share similarities, in so much that you both tend to overwork yourselves when passionate about something you're working on. So, to answer your question, yes. I do believe she is acting genuinely."

Tony cracked a small smile, heading back down to his lab. "How do you think she is with her hands?"

"Sir?"

"The daughter of a mathematician and airplane mechanic? I'm sure she's picked up a few things. Perhaps she can help with work on the aerodynamics, don't you think?"

I sat up with a groan, pushing the covers off my shoulders and bringing a hand to my head. I felt much better than before, though still weak, which bothered me.

"What time is it?" I muttered, looking for my phone only to jump when someone spoke from my left side.

"About nine-thirty at night two days after you collapsed." Tony moved around the bed, waving a hand in my blind spot. "So, you really can't see from that side, huh?"

I shot him a slightly annoyed look. "Looked up my medical records?"

"Among other things. Your father was a real piece of work, wasn't he?"

I bristled, realizing just how much he knew. "How did you—"

"3D crime scene reconstruction," he replied. "I'm not going to report you if that's what you're worried about. From what I've seen, it looks like he deserved it."

His eyes had drifted to my arms and I realized how exposed I was in one of Pepper's shirts. I rubbed at one of my scarred arms uneasily, but his eyes shifted away as he made for the door.

"You're welcome to stay for the next few days. In fact, I highly recommend it. I've already had Pepper put in your request for time off, and as CEO, I've already approved it."

"W-What?" I gaped. "But I have work to do! I've got to find something for the board a-and deal with the companies that are—"

"Overworking put you here," he cut me off, giving me a look over his shoulder. "And as much as I would have liked to ship you back home where you could just pop back up and nag me about more business ventures the moment you were able to walk, I think you might actually be able to help me here."

I didn't know what to say, feeling a little raw after everything he'd just dumped on me—from him knowing about my father and abuse, to the fact that my disability apparently has done nothing more than make him a little curious.

"You can wear some of my spare clothes. I left them in the bathroom, and once you're done getting cleaned up, grab something to eat and meet me downstairs. I've got something you might be interested in."

And then he was gone. Like a bloody tornado. What the hell just happened? I somehow composed myself enough to get up and walk to the bathroom, my gaze shifting to the mirror over the sink. I was still pale, but the dark bags that had been under my eyes had lightened up with the rest I'd gotten. I was a little gaunt and my stomach grumbled lightly to remind me I needed to eat something soon before I turned away and began to strip to shower, feeling sticky from sweat. I grimaced, feeling achy and rubbing at my right arm in annoyance. It was the arm my father had broken when I was eleven.

I pushed the thoughts of him from my mind as I let the hot water roll down my body, running over scars that burned when I thought of the man. As I washed though, I noticed how much thinner I looked than before. I really have been working too hard. Maybe I should do what Obadiah said and get a hobby again. Start up jogging in the mornings, and maybe finding a gym or something. Archery might be better this time around. Something more relaxing than trying to knock out an opponent. I sighed, stepping out and getting dressed in a long-sleeved sweatshirt that was just a few sizes too big and a pair of sweatpants that required me tying the drawstrings to keep them around my waist. After running my fingers through my hair, I headed for the kitchen to get something to eat. Curious, I looked up at the ceiling.

"Jarvis, right?"

"Yes, Miss Norris. How may I assist you?"

I cracked a small smile. "Jess is fine. Just thought you could recommend something for me to eat and where I can find it. I'm not exactly someone who lives here, so I don't know where everything's at."

"Of course. Might I suggest cooking an omelet or perhaps, if you want something easier, there is cereal in the cupboard just above the microwave."

"Cereal it is," I hummed, moving to the fridge and getting out what I needed. "Bowls?"

"Above the oven, Miss Jess."

I rolled my eyes at how the AI addressed me but pulled out the bowls. "Has Mr. St—Tony eaten?"

"No."

"Well, I'll be sure to make up two then," I hummed, picking a cereal box at radon. "Spoons?"

"Second cupboard on the right."

Knowing that Tony was probably pacing by now while waiting for me, I made my way down the stairs curiously, suddenly realizing that he'd invited me down to his lab which was obviously his personal sanctum. I thought I'd have to beg to get brought down here, seeing as he didn't even consider letting Obadiah step foot in the place. I stopped at a glass door, watching as Jarvis input the code and let me in, giving me the chance to slide past the metal scattered around and take a good look at the place.

"I, uh, brought you some cereal," I said lightly, setting it down on a bare spot on a table as I looked around, curiosity heightened. "Nice place for a basement."

Tony shot me a slightly annoyed look. "You're just going to keep calling it that, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah," I nodded, taking a bite of my food as he worked on some sort of metal glove-like casing. "You should eat."

He hummed, setting his tools aside and grabbing the bowl.

"So, uh… why bring me down here?" I asked, still looking around curiously. "I thought this was someplace personal. Your little getaway. I get Pepper, but I'm just your lawyer."

"A lawyer who wanted to be a physicist and was raised by a mathematician and airplane mechanic," Tony corrected as we both finished our food. "You see, I'm working on something top secret. Something that nobody can know about and I think you can help me."

I raised a brow. "You trust me—someone you met maybe a few weeks ago—more than Obadiah, who you've known for years?"

"Pepper likes you." He shrugged, setting his bowl down and getting up. "You brought me breakfast. What more could I want?"

"Uh, proof that I'm worth it?" I argued, getting up. "I mean, this is cool and all, but—"

"You're arguing. Why are you arguing?"

"Because it seems a little crazy to just let me—"

"Crazy? Me? Or you? You're the one who attacked your father."

My eyebrow twitched. "And you're the one who just got tortured in Afghanistan only to pop back up and take down your own company. Remind me again why I work for you?"

He smirked. "Because you enjoy it."

I scoffed. "Hardly. I just collapsed because of you."

"I didn't force you to overwork yourself. You did that all on your own."

"Well, if you would just run your company for once—"

"Oh, here we go," he drawled moving over to what he'd been working on and starting to put it on over his arms and legs.

"Look. I'm just saying that you trusting me right off the bat like this is a bit suspicious."

"I thought you could help me, and you've been helping me so far, haven't you? I've not lost the company yet."

"But that's completely different! I don't know the slightest thing about mechanics or weapons manufacturing or anything like that. How can I help you here?"

"Because I'm not making a weapon," he replied, grinning at me as I eyed his getup curiously. "I'm trying to fly."

My eyes snapped up to his smiling face with a hint of disbelief. "You're nuts."

"I'm a visionary."

"Yeah, a crazy one," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair as I sat down in a seat, feeling a headache coming on. "All right, fine. You've got me curious and if this all goes to hell, it's your own fault."

He raised a brow. "So, you won't tell the company?"

"What for? Apparently, I could be losing my job if you lost the company. Telling them you're trying to fly is a sure-as-hell way to lose it and therefore my job. Besides, it's interesting. You got me there."

"Great! So, take a look. What do you think?" He asked, holding out his arms and I sighed, getting up to inspect the mechanics he had on.

"You're just working on the thrusters?"

He nodded. "I'll figure out a more aerodynamic design later. Getting up in the air comes first."

I hummed, fingering some flaps on his calves. "Stabilizers seem good. I take it you're going to hook this up to a computer system of some kind? Something to make sure the input and output of the thrusters are regulated alongside the stabilizers to ensure they turn on when they're supposed to?"

He raised a brow. "I thought you didn't know mechanics."

"I know enough," I replied, getting up and coughing into my elbow. "My father wasn't a complete waste of life, and my mother learned a lot too and taught me."

"She was nice?"

I hummed. "Yeah, just didn't quite understand that a four-year-old didn't get advanced microphysics. Still tried though." I nodded to his partial suit. "Have you tried flying it yet?"

"Repeatedly. This will be test thirty-seven. Though previous tests involved rather… painful headaches."

I blinked. "You just put it on and went for it, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

I sighed. "Start with the thrusters at the lowest output possible. If you're not getting the desired lift, increase it little by little. Honestly, I thought you were smart? Everyone knows you don't go all out the first go."

"All right. We'll do it your way," he huffed, moving to a more open area and waving over a robot with a camera and another with a fire extinguisher. "Day eleven, test thirty-seven, configuration 2.0. For lack of a better option, Dum-E is still on fire safety." He turned to the robot with the extinguisher. "If you douse me again, and I'm not on fire, I'm donating you to a city college."

I snorted as the robot gave a fearful squeak, settling back in my chair to watch.

"All right. Nice and easy. Just gonna start off with one percent thrust capacity, as recommended by Jess, my newest helper."

I gave the camera a little wave when it turned towards me.

"In 3, 2, 1…"

Tony took a deep breath and flicked his hands, the thrusters igniting and sending him about a foot off the ground. I sat upright, eyeing the mechanics at work as he hovered unsteadily until shutting them off and landing again.

"Looked good," I commented. "Bit wobbly, but that's mostly due to you."

"Oi," he complained, but I waved him off.

"Shush, I said it was good, didn't I? They're sparking a bit though."

"Lack of outer covering," he grumbled. "It's just the heat reacting with dust particles in the air and spontaneously igniting them. Casing comes later. Any other tips before I increase output?"

"Yeah, just one. Don't shut it off like that. Cutting it off abruptly should you end up higher could mean broken ankles and it's not good for the knees with the extra weight. Just like lifting off the ground, slowly decrease output to land softly."

He blinked. "That was at one percent though."

"Well, if you can't go less than that, then I recommend something to help ease the pressure of landing on your body. Otherwise, look forward to an early retirement in a wheelchair."

"Well, aren't you pleasant?"

"Hey, you wanted my honest opinion. I'm just giving it out," I replied, cracking a smirk and enjoying our little banter. "Though, my other tidbit of advice would be doing this outside. Toying around with flight indoors near expensive vehicles doesn't exactly seem safe for you or the cars."

"It'll be fine."

Dum-E shifted the nozzle of its fire extinguisher and Tony held his hands up at the robot.

"Please don't follow me around with it either, because I feel like I'm gonna catch on fire spontaneously. Just stand down. If something happens, then come in." He turned back to the camera. "And again. Let's bring it up to 2.5. 3, 2, 1…"

He was a little higher off the ground now, but I raised a brow in amusement as he began to drift around uneasily.

"Uh, little help, Jess?" He asked, swinging around and over the cars. "Okay, this is where I don't want to be. Not the cars. Not the cars. Yikes! Jess!"

"I told you to do it outside."

"Oh, stop nagging and help me out!"

"Aim your hands towards what you want to move away from, smartass." I rolled my eyes as he flew over some tables and scattered paperwork on the floor.

He listened though, bringing his hands up in front of him and drifting back towards his launch pad with a nervous chuckle.

"Could be worse. Could be worse. Could be worse. We're fine."

"Define 'fine' for me, would ya?" I teased.

"If unhelpful commentary would kindly shut up," he snipped, finally coming to a stop about three feet over the launch pad. "Okay. We're good."

"Slowly decrease output."

"I know," he grumbled, sinking a few feet only to cut it off the last foot down and land with a precarious wobble. "There. Not too bad."

Dum-E lifted the nozzle when he looked over at it and he hastily lifted a hand.

"Nope. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!" He shouted at it and it lowered the nozzle sadly once more, as he turned to me with a smirk. "Yeah. I can fly."

"Look at you, cool kid." I clapped slowly, before giving him a look. "So, can I go now?"

"Really? I just made a partial suit that can fly me around like a jetpack and you don't even care? What kind of helper are you?" He huffed.

"The kind that just got the best sleep of her life only because she was sick, and still feels exhausted. Also, I still have work to do, so if you don't mind, I'd like to go home now."

"Ah, ah. Nope. You're stuck here until further notice. I might still need you and I've already paid for your medical treatment, so you've got to help me."

"You know, most people would label that as extortion and kidnapping."

He smirked. "But you're not most people."

"Flattering," I drawled sarcastically, waving at him from over my shoulder as I went to the door. "I'll be upstairs trying to come up with a way to keep your company from falling into shambles. If I don't see you up there by the time lunch comes around, I'll grab you something from the kitchen."

He frowned. "That's not the kind of help I wanted."

"But it's the kind you're getting," I countered. "Jarvis, remind him when it's lunchtime, would ya?"

"Of course, Miss Jess."

Tony scowled, muttering under his breath. "Traitor."

"Have fun, Stark. I'll see you in a few hours. Try not to smash your head through the ceiling while I'm gone."

A few days had passed since Tony first dragged me down to his lab to watch him hover. Since then, I'd only gone down to drop off food when Pepper wasn't around, and he'd only come upstairs to get me to look over design modifications to his suit. It was probably around day four that I realized I never asked him why he was making it, but I'd fallen asleep sending emails and researching mechanical advancements in a vain attempt to appease the board of directors. I still felt no closer to appeasing them than before, it and was probably Obadiah who was the only one keeping the company afloat at the moment. I forgot to tell Tony about him… I thought idly, rolling over on the couch with an incomprehensible murmur under my breath, still mostly asleep. Or at least, I was asleep, until something came crashing through the ceiling, onto the piano, and into the floor below.

I jerked upright, heart racing and dazed mind suddenly in a panic, waiting to hear drunken shouts and glass bottles shattering against the wall. For a moment, I couldn't catch my breath, fear welling up tightly in my chest as my hands clenched tight around the blanket. Then, the ringing in my ears faded and gave way to car alarms from down in the basement. My heart rate slowed, and my shoulders sagged as the panic from before vanished, leaving me exhausted and covered in a cold sweat. I let out a shuddering breath, running my hand through my hair as I doubled over and cradled my head above my knees.

"Is everything all right, Miss Jess?" Jarvis asked, and I grunted.

"No, not really."

"Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"I take it that was Tony crashing through the ceiling?"

"Affirmative. He was taking a test flight regardless of my warnings."

"Typical. I'll grab him a drink. Point me in the direction of the medicine cabinet, would you? Knowing him, he'll need something for the headache he just received."

"Of course."

One short trip to the bathroom and kitchen later, and I was stepped downstairs, inputting the code and handing a frustrated-looking Tony a mug of coffee, an ice pack, and something for his headache.

"Having fun?"

"I don't need your mockery right now, Jess," he complained, kicking a rolling palate across the floor, but accepting what I brought him—holding the ice pack to his head.

"Just saying. I told you to ease it down."

"I did, but the weight is too much for the ceiling, I suppose. Jarvis, contact the contractors to take care of the hole and just toss out the piano."

"Yes, sir."

He stepped over to his desk then, eyeing a package that was sitting there. "What's this?"

I blinked at the box, mind vaguely remembering it. "I think Pepper brought that down for you back when Obadiah dropped by a few days ago."

"Huh," he mused, giving me a glance. "You look pale. Getting sick again?"

"Let me drop someone through your roof while your sleeping and let's see how you do."

"Right," he hummed, looking the box over and beginning to pull off the paper. "Tell me, how do airplanes handle ice at high altitudes?"

I shot him a look, settling in a chair and sipping my own drink. "How high were you going?"

"High enough. Suggestions?" He asked, revealing a glass box with his old chest piece settled inside reading, "Proof that Tony Stark has a heart" along the rim.

"First off, get her flowers or something for that," I said, gesturing to the gift. "She does way too much for you to do nothing."

"I meant suggestions about the ice."

I sighed, ticking the options off my fingers. "Electro-thermal system, pneumatic deicing rubber, electro-mechanical expulsion systems, or the TKS ice protection system."

"What's that last one?" He asked curiously.

"Fluid-based ice protection system," I rattled off, remembering my mother's beaming face as she explained it to a fascinated seven-year-old me. "They cover critical surfaces of planes with a glycol-based fluid to prevent ice forming. Though, they also push fluid out of laser-cut holes in various parts of the plane."

"Interesting. I'll look into it, and you're right."

"Shocking," I snorted into my mug.

"I do owe her flowers."

"I think you owe her a bit more than that."

"Meh." He shrugged, shifting the ice pack to his shoulder as he took a seat beside me and got Jarvis to bring up imaging of his suit. "Notes: main transducer feels sluggish at plus forty altitude. Hull pressurization is problematic and I'm thinking icing is a probable factor."

"No shit," I replied, the same time Jarvis made a snide comment.

"A very astute observation, sir."

"Oh, ha, ha," he complained. "Mark down the suggestions Jess offered and look into which would work best for this system. Connect to the Sys. Co., have it reconfigure the shell metals. Use the gold titanium alloy from the Seraphim Tactical Satellite. That should ensure a fuselage integrity while maintaining power to weight ration. Got it?"

"Yes. Shall I render using the proposed specifications?"

"Thrill me."

I blinked at the ramble that came out of Tony's mouth and eyed the green drink he was having instead of the rest of his coffee. "You know, I understood maybe half of what you just said, but I'm more worried about how hard you hit your head coming down if you're drinking some green sludge."

"It's a vegetable drink infused with fruits for taste. You're welcome to try it."

I waved a hand at the drink. "Nah, I'm good. I'll stick with coffee, thanks."

We glanced at the television then, showing some fancy party that rang a bell in the back of my mind.

"Tonight's red-hot red carpet is right here at the Disney Concert Hall, where Tony Stark's third annual benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund has become the place to be for L.A.'s high society," the newscaster announced as my eyes widened.

"Oh, shit. I completely forgot."

"Language," Tony chided. "Jarvis, we get an invite for that?"

"I have no record of an invitation, sir."

"Not good," I muttered, bringing a hand up and rubbing at my jaw. "They're shutting you out of social gatherings now. Get you out of the public spotlight, and it'll be easier to usurp you later."

Tony was fiddling with his mask for the suit as the announcer went on.

"…hasn't been seen in public since his bizarre and highly controversial press conference. Some claim he's suffering from posttraumatic stress and has been bedridden for weeks. Others claim that due to his lawyer's also untimely vacation, the two might be off somewhere enjoying the sunshine on a beach, leaving the company in charge of Obadiah Stane. Whatever the case may be, no one expects an appearance from him tonight."

"Great," I grumbled. "My boss is going to kill me. This is what happens when I stay away from work for too long."

"It's fine." Tony waved off. "Technically, I'm your boss now and you've been working from home. Rumors are just that, rumors."

"Yes, but rumors bring uncertainty, especially when they concern the head of a large business that's currently facing criticism for said head's sudden business decision."

"Has anyone ever told you, you worry too much?"

"Being cautious has kept me alive. I'm not going to stop now."

There was a beat of silence before Jarvis interrupted.

"The render is complete."

We both looked over at the bright gold suit and I grimaced.

"Flaunting much?"

"Bit ostentatious, I agree."

"What was I thinking? You're usually so discreet," Jarvis replied cheekily, making me chuckle as the previous tension was wiped away.

"Jarvis, can I marry you for that sarcasm?"

"I appreciate the gesture, Miss Jess, though I do not recommend wedding an intelligent computer system."

I waved Jarvis off as Tony rolled his eyes.

"Tell you what. Throw a little hot-rod red in there."

"Yes, that should help you keep a low profile," Jarvis quipped again but did as he asked. "The render is complete."

"Hey, surprisingly not bad, though still a bit out there. But then again, you're going to be flying around in a metal suit. Why not be obvious?" I mused, eyeing the paint job as Tony nodded.

"I like it. Fabricate it. Paint it."

"Commencing automated assembly. Estimated completion time is five hours."

"Don't wait up for me, honey," he hummed checking his watch and getting up. "You have an invitation to this thing, Jess?"

"What?" I questioned, getting up and following after him as he started up the stairs. "The benefit?"

"That's what we've been discussing. Do keep up."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Well, yeah, I have an invite. Are you actually thinking about going?"

"Well, they don't expect me there, which is disappointing. What sort of CEO would I be if I didn't show up to my own benefit?"

A smart one, I thought, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. "But this is a formal get-together. I don't have anything here."

"Just grab something of Pepper's."

"First off, rude. Second, we're different sizes, and third, I'm not going to riffle through someone's closet when they're not here."

He turned, looking me up and down with a frown, before nodding to himself. "Right. What was I thinking? In here."

"What?" I gaped, seeing as we were standing outside his bedroom.

"You heard me. In. I'm pretty sure I've got some old suits that might work."

"God, you're a right pain in the ass. I hope you know that."

"Again, language," he chided. "And yeah. I think I've been called that before."

I groaned as he lightly pushed me into the bedroom. "You know they're going to add to the rumors when we show up together and I'm wearing your clothes."

"Ah, let them. Though, I'm curious to see what Obadiah will think."

My expression faltered, catching his attention.

"What?"

"I'll tell you in the car," I muttered, giving him a look as he passed over a suit and I made for the bathroom to change. "But you're not going to like it."

"Christ! Can you drive a little slower?" Jess complained as Tony fought to loosen the muscles in his jaw.

"You expect me to slow down when I've just found out that it might be Obadiah who's been selling those weapons to terrorists?"

"Yeah, actually. For my safety?" She urged. "I get you're upset but speeding and risking a car accident isn't exactly the best thing to do." She tightened her grip on the door handle and armrest, hissing through her teeth and closing her eyes as he sped around a large truck. "G-God dammit. Just please slow down!"

"According to her files, she is almost completely blind in the left eye due to trauma from the car accident."

Tony begrudgingly slowed the car to safer speeds at remembering Jess's previous trauma, though he still felt antsy even as she relaxed her death grip with a sigh of relief.

"T-Thank you," she muttered shakily, passing a hand through her hair. "For the suit too. I'm… sorry I didn't warn you about Obadiah sooner."

"It's fine. I wouldn't have believed you before," he admitted, sparing her a brief glance as they neared the event. "Besides, I'm going to need your help confronting him."

"Here?" She hissed as they pulled to a stop at the curb and got out—him handing the keys off. "Are you nuts? You can't make a scene, Tony! You showing up out of the blue after the conference and adding more trouble to that will only make things worse! To the rest of the world, that's two possible mental breakdowns in a row! You're asking for your company to get taken!"

"I'll handle it, Jess. Stop worrying," he chided her, earning a groan in response as they both plastered on cheerful faces to appease the whooping women and cameramen who'd spotted them. "Just play it cool."

"Says you," she muttered through a tense smile, nodding politely at some people nearby.

"Hey, Tony. Remember me?" A buxom blonde questioned him as they walked past.

"Sure don't."

Jess lightly pinched his side, earning a frown as she went over to the woman and apologized. "So sorry about him. He's forgetful. If you need him for anything, just give this number a call."

She handed out a business card that the woman huffed at before walking off without it, leaving Tony to raise a brow at Jess.

"This is what you do to settle lawsuits?"

Jess's eyebrow twitched. "This is what I do to get those not interested in business ventures to not sue, yes. Doesn't always work, but most women don't want to deal with the smiling possible secretary over the real person, so they leave in the hopes I won't be around later to bug you. Now, shut up and walk."

He cracked a small smile, spotting a familiar face on the carpet holding two women, patting the older man's shoulder as he passed. "You look great, Hef."

Jess smiled at Hugh Hefner with a small nod of greeting but was quick to catch up to Tony as he approached Obadiah with the smile slipping right off his face.

"What's the world coming to when a guy's got to crash his own party?" He asked Obadiah with a hint of bite to his tone that the other man didn't notice.

"Look at you. Hey, what a surprise." Obadiah looked just over his shoulder, catching sight of Jess as she adjusted the sleeves of the suit she was borrowing. "Brought your little tag-a-long too, I see."

"I was invited," Jess countered, shooting him a look that was colder than intended, making Obadiah frown for a second before Tony grabbed her arm and got his attention.

"I'll see you inside."

"Uh, hey. Listen, uh, take it slow. I think I got the board right where we want them."

Tony didn't answer, looking to Jess. "Let's go."

She didn't really have a say, getting tugged by him into the noisy venue and up to the bar where he ordered a couple of scotches.

"Tony," Jess hissed, jerking her arm slightly and forcing him to let go. "Please don't jerk me around. I've dealt with that for years and don't plan on dealing with it again, so I will throw you to the ground next time."

"Right. Sorry," he muttered, having forgotten he'd been holding her arm as tightly as he had been.

He was just so angry at Obadiah—

"Mr. Stark?"

God, what now? He turned to the man who smiled politely at him, barely recognizing the dark-haired man. "Yeah?"

"Agent Coulson."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. The guy from the…"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"God, you need a new name for that."

"Yeah, I hear that a lot. Listen, I know this must be a trying time for you, but we need to debrief you. There's still a lot of unanswered questions and time can be a factor with these things. Let's just put something on the books. How about the 24th at 7 pm at Stark Industries?"

Tony had heard maybe half of what he was blabbering on about, having caught sight of Pepper in the crowd. Or, more accurately, her bare back.

"Tell you what," he informed the man, placing a hand on Jess's shoulder as she took her drink. "This is my lawyer, Jess Norris. Jess, this is Agent Collins—"

"Coulson."

"Right, Agent Coulson from uh, some agency with a long name. You two figure something out. I'm going to go to my assistant and make sure there's space on my calendar. Jess, come see me in a bit."

"To—Mr. Stark!" She argued, but he was already moving swiftly across the floor and she sighed, turning to the agent with a small frown. "Agent Coulson from where?"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"Right. Normally, I'm civil, but that sounds fake as hell. So, explain, Agent Coulson, or you're about to have quite a few lawsuits tucked into that shiny new suit of yours."

Tony, oblivious to what had just happened with Jess, reached Pepper and called out to her over the noise. "You look fantastic. I didn't recognize you."

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her polite smile faltering when she saw who it was.

"Just avoiding government agents," he answered pleasantly.

"Are you by yourself?"

"God, no. I sent Jess after him." He threw a thumb over his shoulder where Pepper peeked around to see Jess with a serious frown on her face as she spoke with Agent Coulson.

"You're going to owe her for that," she mused, turning her gaze back to Tony as he took a quick glance as well, wincing. "She doesn't look pleased and I recognize that face. She's about ready to sue someone on your behalf again."

He raised a brow. "Again?"

Pepper cracked a small smile. "You really should pay more attention to your workers. Read some of what she's done. It's good work."

"Hm, maybe I will. Where'd you get that dress?"

"I—Oh, it was a birthday present."

"That's great," he answered, looking slightly disappointed until she continued.

"From you, actually."

"Well, I got great taste," he preened.

"Yes."

"You, uh, want to dance?"

"Oh, no."

"All right. Come on," he pressed, taking her hand.

"No—Ah."

She pursed her lips, giving Jess a small glance, but the woman was still preoccupied with Agent Coulson, so she couldn't save her as Tony led her out onto the dance floor and placed his arms around her.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asked, seeing her looking at Jess and feeling how tense she was.

"No. No. I, I always forget to wear deodorant and dance with my boss in front of everyone that I work with in a dress with no back."

"You look great, and you smell great."

"Oh, God," she lightly chuckled at him trying to save face.

"But I could fire you if that would take the edge off."

"I don't—actually, I don't think that you could tie your shoes without me, or Jess."

"I'd make it a week."

"Really?" She challenged.

"Sure."

"What's your social security number?"

"…Five."

"Five?"

"Right."

"Right. You're missing a couple of digits there," she chuckled.

"The other eight? So, I got you for the other eight."

"Better yet, what about Jess, hm? I do believe you'd be without a company by now if it weren't for her."

"Well, don't give her too much credit."

Pepper sighed. "You honestly don't know what you have, do you? She's been staying with you for what? Five days now?"

"Four."

"Okay, four. Have you missed a meal yet?"

He blinked, thinking back and realizing that Jess had always dropped by the lab or dragged him upstairs, even when she was half asleep in order to sit down and eat with him. "I guess not."

"Better yet, you do know she's been working the whole time, yes? Ever since her fever broke? She's been sending me emails for suggestions on how to appease the board of directors. Everything from mechanical toy production to environmental engineering to finding ways to save the rainforests or improve air quality. All with connections to your company. And you've got her over there fighting with a narc?"

Tony began to feel a bit sheepish now that he was being called out on his treatment of Jess. "She, she doesn't mind."

"Oh, let me tell you." Pepper spun them around, so Tony could see Jess and Agent Coulson. "That face? That face says she minds. She minds a lot, but you know what? She's more like you than you think." Pepper pulled back a little with a soft smile. "She won't admit what's bothering her unless you pry it out of her. Until then, she'll grin and bear it and make little jokes and snide comments. Sound like anyone?"

"Jarvis?" he teased, earning a laugh from her before her smile dropped and she cleared her throat. "How about a little air?"

"Yes. I need some air."

They quickly released each other and stepped outside onto a balcony where she sighed.

"That was totally weird."

"Totally harmless," he argued.

"It was totally not harmless, by the way."

He rolled his eyes. "You sound like Jess. We're dancing. No one's even watching."

"Everybody who I work with—No. You know why?"

"I think you lost objectivity. I think they just... people… we just danced."

"No, it was not just a dance! You don't understand because you're you. And everybody knows exactly who you are and how you are with girls and all of that, which is completely fine," she hurried on to say. "But you know, then me, you're my boss and I'm dancing with you."

"I really don't think… I really don't think it was taken that way."

"Because it makes me look like I'm the one who's trying to… you know."

"I just think you're overstating it, that's all."

"And we're here, and then I'm wearing this ridiculous dress, and we were dancing like that and…" She started to lean in, but then took a step back, realizing what she had been about to do based solely off a single dance. With my boss, who I haven't even seen in almost a week, who is constantly with other women and… and with Jess. I just thought… No. "I would like a drink, please," she said instead, making Tony nod with a hint of disappointment.

"Got it. Okay," he muttered, shuffling off.

"I would like a vodka martini, please."

"Okay."

"Very dry with olives, a lot of olives. Like, at least three olives."

He nodded and made his way back to the bar, surprised to not see Jess still there as he ordered. "Two vodka martinis, extra dry, extra olives, extra fast. Make one of them dirty, will you? And did you see my lawyer leave? Little shorter than me, real short curly auburn hair, dressed in a suit and talking to a boring government guy?"

"She stepped away not long after you left, Mr. Stark, sir."

"Right. Point her my way, if you get the chance."

"Of course."

"Wow, Tony Stark," someone purred from behind him and he turned slightly to see another pretty blonde.

"Oh, hey."

"Fancy seeing you here."

"…Carrie," he tried.

"Christine."

"That's right."

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here tonight," she accused, but he blinked. "Can I at least get a reaction from you?"

"Panic. I would say panic is my reaction."

"'Cause I was referring to your company's involvement in this latest atrocity."

"Yeah, they just put my name on the invitation. I don't know what to tell you."

"I actually almost bought it, hook line and sinker," she pressed forward.

"I was out of town for a couple of months, in case you didn't hear."

"Is this what you call accountability?" She handed him a couple of pictures. "It's a town called Gulmira. Heard of it?"

"When were these taken?" He asked, feeling that anger from before returning at the sight of his weapons on enemy soil again.

"Yesterday."

"I didn't approve any shipment."

"Well, your company did."

"Well, I'm not my company," he replied shortly, just as Jess strolled up, picking up a drink she'd ordered and downing the shot in one go at the sight of his face. "Jess. Have you seen these?"

Christine and Jess locked eyes, and Jess's frown deepened.

"Another one?"

Christine nodded as Tony looked between them in confusion.

"You two know each other?"

"Mildly," Jess waved off, taking the photos and flipping through them as Christine explained.

"I'm an investigative journalist. She needed answers, so I brought them."

"Spotted her at the press conference," Jess rambled on, eyes narrowed at the photos. "Saw promise, looked her up. She's been giving me info as to where the weapons have been ending up."

"You didn't tell me you worked for him," Christine huffed, and Jess sighed.

"He's not the one doing this. He's looking for answers just as we are. He meant what he said at the press conference. I've been trying to help him figure out who's doing this and something else for the company to focus on instead of weapons. I'm doing my best, Chris. I've been with him the last week. No shipments went through him, but he's not exactly the most intelligent CEO."

"Chris?" Tony questioned, being ignored by the two women.

"You can say that again."

"Can I keep these?" Jess asked. "I'll copy them and return them later."

"Only if I get some credit when the story gets out."

"You'll be the first to know. For now, I'll give you this. Obadiah." Jess waved down the bartender. "Her drinks are on me."

Christine's eyes widened. "Obadiah Stane? What for?"

"Think about it," Jess replied, pocketing the pictures and getting herself another shot. "He just got demoted for no reason other than he's the heir. And you've met him. Wouldn't it piss you off a little if this guy got your job?"

Both eyes shifted to Tony, who frowned and huffed.

"Yes, all right. Enough of that. I mean it. Jess, we've got to go."

Jess rolled her eyes but took Christine's hand and kissed the back of it. "Thank you, again."

Christine huffed, but there was a spark of mischief in her gaze. "I'll keep in touch."

"Was that okay?"

I glanced briefly at Tony as we stepped outside to confront Obadiah. "What?"

"Telling your girlfriend who's behind this."

"Not my girlfriend, first off. And we know it's true. I trust her. She believes me about you, I can tell. She's a good person. The type that doesn't care about the money. She cares a little about the fame, but more about the people who are being affected. She wants justice and I've already informed her that I'm willing to give it to her. I needed more info, she needed a story. We compromised and now we can deliver a warning. He won't back down. I've seen his work. It's not the kind of person he is. He fights back." I glanced at Tony's hard expression. "You can warn him, but it won't do much good. I'm working on filing a case against him. I just need more proof."

"You don't have enough?" He hissed as we got closer.

"I've got proof that weapons are being shipped out under the table and the company is giving the authorization. Unfortunately, as you saw with Christine, it looks worse on you than him. I need his signature on the documents, which isn't going to happen. I can try tricking him into signing one, but that will do more harm than good if this ends up going to court. I can't be planting evidence."

"Then, I'll hire someone to—"

"No," I said sharply, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "You want him going down for this, then we do it right. No cutting corners, no hiring spies or anything else under the table. This is what happens to deals under the table. People get hurt. Nobody wants that. Just letting you get upset with him isn't even good, but I'm letting you do it because I know how you are. So, go. You find out the truth from him, and we'll go from there."

"You're not coming with me?"

"I'm your inside to the company right now. I go with you, and it risks that position. He already doesn't care for me, so I'd rather not make that worse unless it comes down to it."

Tony eyed me with a look that caught me off guard. "Pepper said I don't know what I have."

I blinked, rather confused. "Well, I don't want to say she's right, but she is. What does this have to do with—" I stopped as he walked off with a response. "—anything… right. Well, something tells me this isn't going to go well."

And it didn't. Tony left the event early, leaving Pepper and I to handle any more dealings with business while we were there, and she gave me a lift home. After that, no word from Tony and I was up to my ears in work. Work for his company—which was given to me in bucket-loads with Obadiah in charge and his obvious dislike for me—on top of the extra stuff I was doing on the side for him as well as Christine. Pepper offered to help with some of the company's work, but she was just as busy as I was, and I continuously waved her off other than to thank her for my constant supply of coffee.

I was worried though. I could feel it eating away at my gut and causing me severe abdominal pains that I'd had to get medication for. Stress the doctor says. No shit. I knew Tony well by now, but he wasn't answering my texts and hadn't been responding to me at all. Pepper said he hadn't left the lab much, and I felt that I was missing something. Something important and it came to me one night after I'd jolted up from a nightmare.

"No… No, no, no, no, no. He wouldn't. He shouldn't."

I threw my blankets off, ignoring the cold sweat that covered my body as I grabbed my coat and scrambled to get my keys. I ran out of my apartment and cursed under my breath as I jumped into my car and dropped my keys. I reached down and frantically put them in, connecting my phone to my Bluetooth in the car.

"Shit, shit, shit. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Goddammit Tony, pick up!"

"Hello?"

"Tony, you better not have done what I think you've done."

"Who is this?"

"Jess, you dolt! Where the hell are you? And if you say you're on your way to Gu—"

"Not now Jess! Bit busy! I'll call you back!"

"Tony! Tony!"

The call was ended, and I cursed, picking up the speed to get to his home. My hands were shaking, and my breath was short by the time I reached his place, anxiety at an all-time high as I gripped my shirt just below my stomach and repeatedly rang the doorbell.

"God, please don't be dead. Please don't be dead," I muttered under my breath, giving up the bell to pound on the door. "Tony! Dammit, Tony, please fucking answer!"

There was no response and I sagged against the door, breath catching in my throat and stomach aching like I'd been stabbed. I couldn't breathe, but I fought through the panic attack as best I could, my worry for Tony bypassing everything as I pulled myself together long enough to locate a window. I flexed my fingers for a minute before rearing my fist back and letting it fly. The window rattled in its frame, making me whimper at the pain it sent through my hand, but I tried again. When that didn't work, I tried my elbow before my brain clicked. Need to focus it more. I grabbed my keys, fixing one between my fingers and making a fist once more. This time, the glass shattered like it was supposed to, making me cringe as glass tore into my hand and arm. It didn't matter to me at that moment though, and I kicked out the rest of the glass before climbing into Tony's entryway.

An alarm beeped at me, but I breathlessly called out. "J-Jarvis! Jarvis, it's me! D-Deactivate the alarm!"

"Alarm deactivated. Hello, Miss Jess."

"Don't h-hello me. W-Where the hell is he?" I growled, cringing again and grabbing onto the couch in agony at the pain in my gut. "G-God dammit. I can't deal with this kind of stress right now."

"It appears that you are struggling with a possible anxiety attack, Miss Jess. Your blood pressure is rather high, and your heart rate has increased to—"

"Jarvis, if you d-don't tell me where he is, I-I'm going to rearrange your circuits and give you a valley girl accent f-for the rest of your foreseeable future. Where the hell is he?"

There was a brief pause before the computer responded.

"Currently in combat with US aerial forces while flying away from a village called—"

"Gulmira," I said the same time Jarvis did. "Get him back here now, and don't tell him I'm here."

"Miss Jess—"

"Don't," I said shortly. "H-He wants to give me a panic attack, h-he can deal with the consequences. When i-is Pepper supposed to show up?"

"By seven, Miss Jess."

"Time?"

"Just after three."

"Send her down here a-as soon as she shows up. S-She's going to need to stop me from killing him."

"Yes, of course."