Hey guys! Haha or rather, the like, two people who have read this - thanks, by the way, for stickin' with it so far. Anyway, I've got another chapter for you! Things are moooovin' along. At least I hope. O.o;

Iron Man and all that entails belongs to Marvel.

Chapter Three: A Rocky Road

James Rhodes couldn't have felt more at home. Despite the desert heat, lack of decent television, and grumpy military brass prowling around, Rhodey was quite content where he was. It was rare that he was called out to the field, but this case had merited it. His knowledge of weapons development could come in handy, and already had. Shifting slightly in his seat, he winced at a sore shoulder and bit back a curse. Ignoring the pain, he instead focused on the reports that had recently been filed from fellow soldiers. Trying to make sense of the attack they'd just had was easier said than done.

For months, he'd been on assignment with a covert section of the military to watch freights leaving the country and headed to the Middle East and other potentially threatening locations. When one of them went missing and they went searching, they hadn't expected what they'd come upon. Rhodey leaned back and shook his head, sighing. It had been a long night. If it can even be called that, the man mused. It had started late the previous night, and it was now nearing noon. It had been a good twelve hours from start to finish. And leave it to Tony to send him straight to voicemail the first time he'd tried to call.

"Stay low, men. We didn't expect this many hostiles." In the pinks and oranges of a desert sunset, Rhodey's gaze was focused on the slew of men hovering around a large weapons cache. The crate they'd traced had been identified as one of many stacked up and hidden away by dusty tents and tarps. All of the men carried automatic weaponry, though of what make, he couldn't quite be sure, as it was too far away to tell. The men were big, burly, and looked like they'd be the sort to shoot first and ask questions later, if at all. By their sure footfalls and organized movements, Rhodey was sure they'd had some training. He was pretty sure that reconnaissance wasn't their primary focus – stopping anyone who tried to mess with them was.

But there was something odd about the scene. Rhodey couldn't place it, but it hovered at the back of his mind like an insistent itch he couldn't quite scratch. He focused on spotting the leader. "Mark our location and radio back what we've found."

"Sir." One of the men on his team put a radio to his mouth and relayed the message.

The radio crackled in a response.

Rhodey pursed his lips into a tight, focused line. He made eye contact with each of the men in his squad and nodded. "You heard the man. Back off and get back to base. We'll send in some heavier firepower to take care of these sons of bi—" He didn't get a chance to finish. Quite suddenly, the area was crawling with enemies as if they'd sprouted right out of the surrounding sand, and one had taken a pre-emptive shot. Rhodey felt the bullet dig roughly into his shoulder before exiting the other side. Damn it, he thought tersely, hardly hearing himself shout orders to his men to take those bastards out. That was my saluting arm.

Somehow, they'd been surrounded. How though, the Colonel couldn't quite figure out. The squad had been brought around with him leading it for the sole purpose of finding out where that crate had been stored. They'd stopped far enough from the enemy territory to evade detection. He had been so damn careful. But apparently, they hadn't been careful enough.

The air was filled with flying casings and thunderous weapons fire. Rhodes saw two of his men hit the sand like a sack of bricks. He drew his sidearm and sunk three bullets into the head of the man that thought killing his soldiers would be funny. The pain in his shoulder and sticky, warm feeling of the blood running down his arm was hardly noticed.

One of the soldiers had managed to get his hands on his radio and call for backup. The other three squads in the area raced towards their location. Rhodes vaguely heard the rumble of Humvee engines in the distance, but focused on squelching the attack. He felt the heat of a rogue bullet zip right over his ear, not knowing whether it had come from one of the enemy, or from his own side. He didn't care. The gun in his hand kicked back with each bullet fired, and his hands worked to drop the empty clip and reload.

Someone else fell just beside him.

There was sand everywhere in the air, screams of men from both sides, and chaos reigned. Somewhere off to his left, a frag grenade exploded, sending shrapnel raining down on his helmet and shoulders. Something that looked suspiciously like an ear hit the sand by his feet. He didn't want to think about to whom that might have belonged.

As soon as the Humvees arrived, the battled turned to the military's favor. The mounted machine guns and assault rifles the other men had at their disposal quickly dispatched any remaining ambushers, as well as the men who had been guarding the cache. Unfortunately, they'd taken it upon themselves to join the fight. Almost as quickly as it had begun, the attack was over. The last of the gunfire echoed through the hot air, and Rhodey grabbed at his shoulder, feeling his own blood seep between his fingers and run down his already blood-soaked sleeve. He still clenched his pistol tightly, though it was smeared with warm red and rough dirt.

"Get these men back to base. Apply first aid where needed, and get someone down there on the radio. Let them know what happened here, damn it."

"Colonel, sir!" With a snappy salute, the man did as he was instructed.

Jim pushed away anyone trying to help dress his own wound and pointed the medics towards the soldiers that really needed it. Rhodey knew his shoulder was hurting like hell, but also knew the wound was superficial. In-and-out. He'd be fine. His men, on the other hand, might not be.

"Three dead, two with critical injuries, and a dozen more wounded, sir," the doctor said, his square jaw set tightly. "What happened out there?"

Rhodey didn't answer, and instead let his shoulder be cleaned and patched up in silence. He was wondering just that. What the hell had happened? Why hadn't they seen that many men closing in? The total count of enemy deaths had been fifteen. He'd only counted seven patrolling the weapons cache, so where did the other eight come from?

It made him wonder if he was losing his touch.

"All set, Colonel," The doctor said and gave him a solid clap on his good shoulder. "You were lucky that didn't hit anything too vital."

Rhodes offered an empty smile, "Yeah." He shrugged back into his shirt and jacket and made his way to debriefing.

Rhodey focused again on the reports in hand. He had called Tony immediately upon seeing what had been brought back from the cache and got the man's voicemail. Typical Tony. The crate they'd traced hadn't been Stark weaponry, but what they'd found in some of the other crates had been suspicious at best. Unfortunately, he hadn't had a chance to talk to his friend since his initial call, and was thankful when his cell finally rang.

The conversation was short, and much like his behavior initially after having been rescued, Tony had given replies that dodged a few of Rhodey's questions. However, he managed to get his message across, and was assured that he'd see the CEO the following morning.

Snapping his phone shut and dropping it on the desk, Rhodey sighed deeply and put his face in his palm, closing his eyes tightly. If Tony showed up in the armor, there would be a lot of explaining to do to his superiors. It was bad enough getting them to allow Tony to come and examine tech that was part of a classified operation without him running around in that high-tech costume of his. Of course, Stark was the expert of experts on such things, and everyone knew his input would be nothing if not helpful, vigilante quirks or no.

He didn't even want to factor in the large number of Iron Man fan boys that were currently stationed there.

Rhodey almost called Stark back to tell him to leave the suit at home.

Almost. He didn't want to hear that ridiculous voicemail message again.

There weren't many chances during the day for Pepper Potts to sit and take a breather. When she did find that time, Tony usually found a reason to bother her. This was no exception. The moment her rear hit the cushion of her office chair, a little light on her intercom blinked on, followed by Tony's voice. "Potts?"

She momentarily caught a flash of being in the parking lot of the building that used to house the arc reactor. The concrete had been ripped apart like tissue paper, and the gigantic grey monster that Obadiah had become had crawled out from below like a demon out of hell. Then, there had been a flash of red and gold, and suddenly she'd been left alone to ponder the explosions and shrieks of metal that were coming from the road. Until Tony called her name, Pepper hadn't been sure if he was even alive. She quickly shook that vision from her mind's eye, but couldn't rid herself of the serious tone Tony had used over the comm. She was sure that was what brought the memory to mind. The grave note and almost whisper of his voice sent her heart racing. So much thought sparked by one word.

"Y-yes, Mr. Stark?"

"I have to duck out early today. Cancel any further meetings for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow." The intercom cut off before Pepper could respond. She stared at it, mouth slightly open. She knew that tone too. Slowly, she got her fingers working and pulled her trusty Blackberry out, bringing up Tony's schedule. Clearing it was going to take a lot of calls and even more apologies.

Pepper literally jumped when she felt the hand on her shoulder. She looked up and realized it belonged to Tony. He gave her shoulder a little squeeze and leaned down so that he was eye level with her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and saw the anger—no, it was fear in his eyes. "Mr. Stark?" She asked. It was a wonder Tony couldn't hear her pounding heart. It was so loud in her ears that she could hardly hear her boss speak.

"Pep, I have to go. Rhodey found something… Weapons. They might be mine. I have to go take a look." Tony was thankful that Pepper was close to his office, and even more so that most of his other employees were on lower floors. He didn't need a flurry of extra jobs thrown at him at the moment. "I'll be back late tomorrow night. After you finish things up here, you can take off until I get back." He forced his too-practiced smile onto his face – the one he used for the paparazzi. "No need for you to bum around this place when the boss is off playing, right?"

"Mr. Stark," Pepper said, mustering as much light-heartedness as she could, "That's what I do every day." She gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'll clear the schedule."

"Thanks, Pep."

She couldn't quite look at him, and instead focused on the device in her hand, "Yeah. You be careful, okay?" The redhead lightly reached up and placed her pale hand on Tony's and then immediately removed it as if she'd been burned. Where had that come from?

If Tony noticed, he didn't make any mention of it. "I always am. I'll call you when I get there. And if you'd rather, the guest room's always open for you. Maybe you can keep Jarvis company. He gets lonely if I leave him for too long." Tony was pretty sure that was an empty offer. She never stayed overnight at his place. She claimed it wasn't professional. Tony had never seen the problem with it.

Pepper just pushed a few stray hairs out of her face and nodded. "Will that all, Mr. Stark?"

Tony removed his hand and took a deep breath, "That'll be all, Miss Potts."

With a gait that was still compromised by that swollen ankle, Tony made his way to the elevator and disappeared behind its reflective doors. Pepper found she couldn't quite look up. He was leaving again. Every time he did, the woman found it was harder for her to let him go, and for all the time she spent thinking about it, she just couldn't figure out why.

Pepper was pretty sure that she was wound too tight. And she fully blamed that boss of hers. He'd left without telling her, came back all cut up and refused to tell her what he'd been doing. And now he was leaving again. The only comfort she had in it was that he'd told her, at least in part, what was going on. The woman sighed, "I need a drink."

"I might not be able to afford some sort of fancy alcohol, but would you take me up on a coffee? Or, I know this great little ice cream place just down the road…" Mark had appeared next to her desk, and was giving her a disarming smile. "You look worked to the bone. Mr. Stark keeps you on your toes, doesn't he?"

Pepper frowned at Mark and got to her feet. "How'd you get in here?"

The blond man gave a guilty sort of laugh, raising his hands in a sort of surrender, "I actually hadn't left. There was something else that I wanted to bring up with Mr. Stark, and was trying to figure out the best way to go about it. I figured that coming to you would be my best option, but I didn't want to interrupt that conversation you two were having," he shrugged. "But you look like you could use a break."

It was true. Pepper really could use a break, especially after what Tony had just told her. And Mark seemed willing to help. She'd read his application and resume – after all, it was Pepper who'd helped Tony choose his newest employees. He seemed like a nice person, and willing to help. "You know, I really could." Pepper let herself smile and placed the Blackberry on her desk. "I'll take you up on that ice cream. But I can't now. I've got a few things to take care of."

"Say nothing more. I'll just wait for you by the elevator on the bottom floor when you get off." Mark threw a thumb towards the elevator. "What time should I be there?"

"Six o-clock would be perfect," Pepper replied, already feeling her stress unravel. It really was a nice thing that Mark was doing. She was pretty sure he had no idea how much that was going to help keep her head on straight. "Do they have rocky road flavor?"

"You bet they do. It's my favorite. Oh, and you're not allowed to worry about work on my watch." He tapped a rather large wristwatch on his left hand and gave her a knowing look through his thick frames. "Got it?"

Pepper nodded and let herself slowly sink back into her chair. With a slight upward curl of the corners of her mouth, she said, "Yes sir."

End chapter three! Next one up soon. I promise! And, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated! Let me know how I'm doing. 8D