Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except for the interpretation, everything else isn't m'kay?

A/N: This has been a while coming but you can all thank my recent insomnia for anything of a decent calibre being publishable. Hopefully the next update should be soon as I actually know where I'm going with it next. Also, I've bumped up the rating due to swearing. What can I say? I've got a potty mouth. Ain't that right, Sammy? Anyway, you know what to do. read and hopefully enjoy. laters x

Chapter Two: A Bad Idea

Justin Hammer.

Infuriating; nauseating, stuck so far up the government's ass that it's remarkable he had enough oxygen to survive up there. Worst of all, he was stood next to Tony, attempting to show off; wafting his interview with Vanity Fair around in a flimsy attempt to get some attention; grinning like an idiot at the cameras; trying to pretend they were the best of buds.

I mean, it may be the pot calling the kettle black but at least Tony had that warming lovability that allowed him to get away with that kind of crap. Hammer had none of that, he was quite clearly visible for what he was. A cold, bland government lacky with no imagination. I mean he was outright copying Tony's Iron Man tech, trying to one up the billionaire. This guy really had nothing going for him.

Still whatever you said, however you put it, Justin Hammer was a man with an unpalatable personality. Right now he was the little weedy kid in the playground who always tries to be your friend but copies everything about you at the same time.

And of course, this vile man was the person Pepper had left him with, probably as some form of punishment over the whole Natalie situation…and something else that he most likely forgot about. It was probably the worst thing short of physical violence she could have done to him; left him alone with Justin Hammer.

Well not entirely alone, Miss Christine Everhart was there for an interview with the jackass. The journalist who was one of Tony's prior conquests, whom he had not seen since getting her under the sheets…

Yep.

Pepper hated him.

Hammer, for some unfathomable reason, found the need to place his hand right on this particularly tender part of Tony's neck. It was almost as if he knew the guy was itching to escape him. Incapable of literally running after his former assistant and abandoning this asinine man, Tony could only slap on a fake smile as Hammer steered him to face the cameras that had sidled up behind Christine.

As the first flash went off, partially blinding him, Tony instinctively reached into his pocket for his sunglasses. Unfortunately the damage had already been done by the time they were on and his previously dormant and mildly irritating headache had spiked into a rather sharp painful and present one. It matched the heaviness that was gently weighing down on his chest, although that pain was currently less so than his throbbing head.

With half the effort he could be bothered to muster he managed to shrug the hand from the back of his neck and manage to restrain himself from smacking the guy down, keeping it to a semi-friendly pat on the back. Grateful to have his neck free, and resisting the urge to rub at it for fear of losing face he noticed Christine trying to include him in Hammer's interview.

Not that he didn't like being the centre of attention, lord knows he loved that, but his headache and Hammer's smile and basic presence within the local vicinity was making him sweat. At least he hoped that was why he was sweating so much.

"Since he got his contract revoked…when you were attempting to…"

He had to get away from them, from everyone. Ideally, he needed to get in touch with Jarvis and find out why the hell he fell so shitty when the chlorophyll ought to be keeping him on game.

But of course, he couldn't be allowed that. That would just be too easy

He made his way over to a nearby table to sit down, even if only momentarily, still continuing the conversation with the journalist and the jackass.

He watched Hammer squirm under his questions comfortable in the knowledge he was giving the guy the same treatment he would get in his position. He wasn't handling it too well but if we're honest with ourselves, Hammer needed being taken down a peg.

Tony could have cried when Natalie just seemed to appear at his side. Any reason to get out of there, even an angry rant from Pepper, anything. Of course, he wasn't allowed to seem too eager and moving too fast was quickly becoming a bit of a no-no with the headache being fuelled by all the chattering people that were gathered to have a good time.

As he left he couldn't help but throw one final glance back and smiled internally as he watched Justin Hammer try to push the woman's dictaphone away.

God, he hated Justin Hammer.

If there was one place you could expect to be relatively empty wherever you went, it would most likely be a bathroom. It's one of those things people, especially guys, never really dwell on.

The air in this particular bathroom was quite clear and fresh compared to the close atmosphere out in the bar. Less claustrophobic. More importantly he could hear himself think, although he wasn't entirely sure that it was a good thing.

Casting a quick glance around to make sure no one was about Tony took out the small device from his pocket and held it in his hands. It felt warm, almost like he'd only just used it and that did nothing reassure his troubled mind.

Pausing, he thought about whether he wanted to know his palladium levels… He knew they'd be higher, he knew there was nothing he could do… but if there had been a recent acceleration of his condition he'd need to know right…?

He'd need to know where he stood with what he'd yet to get done. I mean, not everything was ready yet.

He wasn't ready yet.

Breathing deep, he held the small device firmly in his hand as he pressed his finger against the small needle and held it in place just to be sure he got as accurate a reading as possible. Once satisfied he'd had it there long enough he pulled his finger away and shook it to alleviate the sting.

Placing his finger in his mouth to clear any excess blood, Tony glanced down at the small flashing display.

BLOOD TOXICITY: 53%

Almost double what it had been after the expo. No wonder he felt like crap.

When he got home he'd have to increase the amount of the chlorophyll he drank as much as he could. Again. Perhaps take to drinking it at every moment he wasn't eating or talking. Of course that would only make him feel better, the problem itself would still be there.

Leaning forward he placed his arms either side of the sink, lowering his head.

This was going too quickly. Everything; the symptoms, the toxicity, the company. He could almost feel it all slipping out of his grasp. It was like he had no control and it was driving him insane.

Tony Stark was not a man accustomed to losing control, especially within his whole life.

Taking a quick breath, Tony looked into the mirror, looking right into his reflection's eyes. There had to be some way to regain the reins to his currently-bordering-on-hellish existence.

"Got any other bad ideas?"

This was a bad idea.

This was worse than a bad idea, it was a stupid idea; a stupid, life-threatening idea that he would very soon live to regret, but he didn't care. He was taking control.

There was a lot of people, a lot of noise and his headache was quietly raging behind his brown sunglasses as he strided down towards the racetrack. Journalists and cameras were fighting off beautiful women after an autograph, desperate to get an explanation for the racing leathers he was wearing, but if there was one thing Tony had learnt during his time at the top it was that timing was absolutely everything.

Turning around he saw the small trail of people that was slowly gathering behind him and couldn't help but smile. Feeling crap made no difference to the warming glow that came from being the centre of attention. It was where he belonged.

From the racetrack he could see even more cameras, crazy fans and the right opportunity for announcing his plans. Obviously he told the crew first, otherwise he'd be writing a check he couldn't cash and that was not a position he cared to place himself in…again.

"Well, what's the use of having and owning a racecar… if you don't drive it?"

Talking clearly and slowly was partially for the interpreter, partially so he didn't start panicking and partially because it was pretty much impossible that Pepper wasn't watching this right now.

As he climbed into the driving seat and pulled the helmet over his head there was only one thought going through his head.

'If I survive this, Pepper is gonna be pissed.'