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Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man.


The next few days passed quickly with so much going on, especially for Pepper. After I congratulated her properly, she informed me that she was now looking for a replacement to become dad's new personal assistant. She had already interviewed over 10 women suitable for the position yet, after briefing him on each one, dad turned them all away, finding some miniscule flaw they had. After some debating, she had gotten him to agree to meet three of them tomorrow before we headed off to Monaco.

Even though Pepper wasn't exactly leaving, I was still going to miss her. She had been dad's PA since I was a kid and in that time we had grown extremely close. She had stuck around when so many would have left and she had helped dad so much, more than he knew. She had become more than a friend to me. Running dad's company would be harder than running around after dad so I knew the amount of time we would get to spend together would decrease. I hoped she would still find time to see me once she was running dad's multi-billion dollar business.

I doubted that I would become close with dad's next PA. Even so, I wanted a choice in who dad picked considering how much time I would be around them. I don't want to end up with someone I don't like.

With that in mind, I made my way down to the exercise room after being informed by J.A.R.V.I.S that both Pepper and dad were there. I walked in, just in time to see a woman slam Happy to the ground in the boxing ring, with his head in-between her feet.

"Oh my god!" I said, while Pepper screeched "Happy!"

A moment later the woman released him and got to her feet, followed by an unsteady Happy. I quickly walked into the room to stand by Pepper as dad went over to the ring.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked Pepper as I eyed the woman standing in the ring. She was extremely attractive with long brown hair in soft curls, a slim figure and full pink lips. What the hell was she doing in the ring with Happy?

"That is Natalie Rushman from legal who is here to complete the company papers for me. And your father asked Happy to give her a lesson in the ring," she answered.

I looked at dad, in his boxing gear, talking to the woman who had stepped out of the ring. "Doesn't looks like she needs a lesson," I said.

"No," Pepper said and I could hear a hint of annoyance in her tone.

She made her way over to dad, who was now putting his thumb print on the files the woman was holding. I stepped closer to try and hear why this woman was so special that dad had put her in the ring (no one but dad and Happy ever went in the ring).

"So, how are we doing?" Pepper asked.

"Great. Just wrapping up," dad replied. He pointed to the paper. "You're the boss."

The woman, Natalie Rushman, closed the file, swung her hair and looked to dad. "Will that be all Mr Stark?"

"No."

"Yes, that will be all, Ms Rushman. Thank you very much." Pepper's smile, a smile I had seen her use many times on dad's one nighters, indicated the conversation was over and there was only one thing for her to do; leave.

As the woman walked by me, she stared into my eyes. Instantly I disliked her. I had no rational explanation as to why, it was just instinct. She something about her seemed off. Like why does a good looking woman from legal know how to body slam someone? I told myself not to worry, she was just from woman from legal.

The minute she was out the door, dad said "I want one."

"No," was Pepper's reply.

I hoped dad wasn't serious when he said he 'wanted one'. I knew with dad, and so did Pepper, that what he wanted, he got.

"So Pepper," I said as I walked over to them. "You are now officially the CEO of Stark Industries!"

Pepper grinned and I could see the sparkle in her eyes. "Yes."

"And she will do great," dad added.

Happy, slumped against the ropes of the boxing ring, sighed. "Are we done here?"


The one thing I hated about holidays was packing. I always put it off to the last minute.

The night before Monaco, my suitcase sat empty on my bed and would stay that way until about an hour before we left. I just find packing boring when there are so many other things I could be doing. Like doing maintenance on my Audi S5.

"J.A.R.V.I.S please put on some Fall Out Boy," I said from underneath the hood as I checked the oil level.

Immediately, my favourite song was blasting through the garage. I sang along as I worked. I was always happiest when I was in grease covered overalls working on my cars. Everything just faded away until the only thing on my mind was the car.

I was on my knees checking the tyre pressure when the song playing suddenly cut out.

"Hey!" I popped my head up to see dad entering the garage. "I was listening to that."

Although dad and I were alike in many ways, one thing we did not have in common was musical tastes. While he liked bands like AC/DC and Black Sabbath, I preferred Fall Out Boy and All American Rejects. It was a constant battle to choose what to play when we were both working down here.

"Shouldn't you be packing?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you be packing?"

He shrugged as he came to stand by my car. "I got bored."

"Me too." I watched him begin to fiddle with some of the hoses and clamps under the hood. "Dad," I said in a warning tone. It was an unspoken rule that we never touched the other's car without permission. It was a rule I found easy to follow but dad had a hard time keeping his hands off my Audi's.

"You know if you-"

"Dad!" I jumped up and waved a finger at him. "Step away from the Audi."

He held his hands up in surrender and stepped back from the car.

"Thank you," I said as I grabbed a wrench from my toolbox and began tightening the nuts on the wheels. "How's the assistant hunt going?"

"I've got a few people in mind," he said. "How's the modelling and interviewing going?"

"Fantastic," I said with clear sarcasm. "They're coming over in five minutes for my photo shoot. How do I look?" I struck a pose as dad looked at my dirty overalls, frizzy hair and grease covered face and hands.

"Beautiful," he said with sincerity.

"You liar," I said as I knelt back down to the wheels. "I still haven't decided yet if I'll do it."

"It's up to you Morgs," he said as he sat down at his desk and began typing away on one of his many computers.

"I know," I muttered.

We fell into silence as he began working on his computer and I tried to stop thinking about photo shoots and interview questions.

My eyes kept flickering back to dad as I worked. He had been spending a lot of time of his computers lately. Every time I asked what he was doing he said he was designing some new weapons for the suits. I didn't know if I believed him or not.

Chucking the wrench onto my toolbox, I grabbed a rag and sat next to the car as I tried to clean my hands. "Hey dad, can I talk to you about something?"

He looked up from his computer screens. "Of course."

I bit my lip as I averted my gaze. "Well, I don't really know how to bring it up..."

"Uh oh. What is it? Is it drugs? Are you pregnant? Do you owe someone a million dollars?"

"Dad! Come on, I'm being serious." I took a deep breath as I began wringing the rag in my hand. "I've just been thinking lately-"

"Always a bad sign."

I gave him a look which said shut up. "I've been thinking," I continued. "And this is just an idea...about moving out."

The reaction was instantaneous. His face suddenly dropped and his fingers paused on the keyboard. "Moving out?" he asked.

I stood up to walk over to him. "Yes. I know I'm only 17 but maturity wise I'm, like, 27! And it's something I've been thinking about for a while and it might not even happen for another 2 years! But I just think it would be good if I started getting some independence and space. Maybe get a job?"

Dad looked like he was struggling for words which did not happen often. "So you want some space?"

"Kind of," I said. "Look dad, eventually I will have to move out and start my life. I just feel like...now might be the right time."

"Why now?" he asked as he pushed himself away from the desk and rolled his chair closer to where I was standing. "Why not in...14 years?"

"Do you really want me living here when I'm 31?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "Just think about all the things you can do if I move! You can drink and eat all the takeaway you want. Play your music as loud as you want and bring home as many girls as you want! It's not like I will be moving to the other side of the country, like when I was at MIT. You survived that right? I'll be like 5 minutes away. I just want my own home."

"You don't like this home?" he asked.

I gave him a smile. "You know I do. But this is your home."

"This is our home," he corrected. "And soon one day it will be yours."

I frowned and opened my mouth to ask what he meant about it one day soon being mine but he spoke first.

"Can you just keeping thinking about it for a couple of months? Don't rush into anything."

I nodded. "It was only an idea. I won't go out buying any mansions just yet."

I saw the relief in his face but I also saw the sadness. I hated making him sad but he had to face the fact that one day I would move out and he would be here alone. I thought he might be at least a little bit excited or happy at the idea of getting him mansion back after 17 years. He could do whatever he wanted again without having to worry about a 17 year old girl. I guess I didn't realise how hard it would be for him to become accustomed to being alone again after so many years.

I went back to working on my Audi and dad went back to his computers. But there was something else I wanted to ask him but it gave me butterflies just thinking about it. It has been nagging at me for months, ever since we made the suit. I took in a deep breath and looked to dad again.

"Dad." He looked up from his computer screens. "There's something else I want to talk about."

"What is it?"

"I…" I knew as soon as I said it he would say no but I needed to ask anyway. "I want to try on the suit."

Once again shock registered on his face and the garage fell into silence. "You what?" he asked as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"I want to try on the suit," I repeated. "I know I'm too short for it but if we put some stacks into it I would fit and I've wanted to try it since we built it but I knew would say no but I think because I help build them I should be able-"

"Morgan, it's too dangerous," he said, cutting over the top of me.

"Oh," I said, "so it's too dangerous for me but it's perfectly fine for you?"

Dad nodded. "Yes."

"That is so hypercritical," I said. "Come on. I deserve to try it on. I'm not going to flying across the state, I just want to try it on here. You're a hero to so many people and for one moment I just want to know what that might feel like, even if it's just trying on the suit. Please dad." I looked at him dead in the eyes. "Please."

He stared at me and the seconds ticked by. It was a full minute before he sighed and nodded. I wanted to scream with excitement but I managed to contain myself. "Thank you!"

"But only the boots," he said quickly.

I wanted to argue but right now I would take what I was given. "Okay." I pulled off my overalls so I was just in shorts and a plain tee. I looked expectantly at dad who looked surprised.

"Now?" he asked.

"Of course!" I said. I wanted to do it before he changed his mind and said no.

I watched as he reluctantly stood and got the boots we used when designing the Mark II. "Now you're only going to use one percent thrust," he said as he helped me into the boots. "Make sure you find your centre of balance otherwise you'll go ass over head." He passed me the hand stabilizers before handing me a small harness to hold an arc reactor to power the boots. "Don't try anything fancy. Just power up then come back down," he said while opening the safe which contained his spare arc reactor. After Obadiah had stolen his arc reactor and dad had almost died, we made sure that there would always be an arc reactor on hand in case of emergencies. He hooked up the wires from the boots and stabilizers into the arc reactor while lecturing me about what not to do.

Frankly I was thinking if dad could do it, so could I. If he could fly around the world saving people, I'm sure I could fly around the garage. I was grinning from ear to ear with excitement. Ever since we built Mark II I had wondered what it would be like to use it; now I was finally going to find out. I wiggled my toes in the boots, which were way too big for my feet, but I wasn't going to say anything to dad. I didn't want him to suddenly change his mind.

"Okay." He helped me walk over to the middle of the garage so I wouldn't fall flat on my face. The boots were incredibly heavy but not uncomfortable, just unusual. "Okay, just squeeze your left hand to power up and again to kill power."

"Dad, I helped you build these remember? I know how it works."

Dad help his hands up in defence as he backed away. I could tell he was itching to tell me to be careful but thankfully he kept his mouth shut. I took in a deep breath and adopted a steady stance. I squeezed my hand and the thrusters in the boots flared into life. The repulsors in my palms activated and before I knew it I was floating 7 feet above the ground. I felt myself tipping backwards so I leaned forward and threw my hands out to the side to stabilize myself.

"This is amazing!" I said when I finally felt steady. It was definitely harder than it looked but it was exhilarating. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I finally understood how dad felt every time he put on the suit. It. Was. Amazing. It was like nothing I've ever felt before and these were only the boots. I couldn't imagine how putting on the whole suit would feel.

I tiled forward ever so slightly and I went flying across the garage.

"Careful," dad said but I had control, I knew what I was doing. Unlike dad's first time flying, I made sure to stay away from the cars and our desks. I wanted to keep going but dad looked so on edge that I took pity on him and flew back to my start position. I squeezed my hand and the power died, sending me to the floor. Dad immediately came forward and grabbed my hand to keep me from falling backwards.

I beamed at him. "That's incredible."

"Yeah it is," he said. He helped me out of the boots while my mind began wandering. I finally got why he kept putting that suit on day after day. Almost every day dad would put it on and fly out of here, leaving me behind, wondering what it felt like to be Iron Man. I finally had gotten to feel what it was like. The feeling I got from just flying around the garage was amazing. I couldn't image how it would feel flying across the country in it. It was exhilarating and addictive. Already I was itching to try the boots on again, or better yet, try on the actual suit. But there is no way Dad will let me in the suit, at least not for now. Maybe if I wear him down he'll say yes eventually. Who knows?

All I know is that I was determined to fly again. Someday.


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