Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. All others belong to me, particularly Cedric, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.

A short chapter this week due to a very persistent, very angsty plot bunny that didn't want me to write anything else. Hopefully I can catch up over the coming week.

Especial thanks to Cincoflex for last-minute betaing and reassurance!

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The render was taking a while, and Tony tapped idly on his workbench, feeling boredom breathing down his neck. It was way past midnight, and while he had plenty of ideas, none of them could be acted on until he saw how the latest design turned out.

Casting about for something to distract himself, he sighed. "Jarvis? What's the latest in Pepper's media file?"

"Nothing of interest," Jarvis said dismissively. "Stark Industries is, as always, mentioned in the stock trackers, but the only articles more personal are in what Pepper refers to as 'supermarket trash'."

The AI fell silent, and Tony waited for a moment before prompting him. "And?"

"And what, sir?"

Tony narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "What does the trash say, Jarvis?"

"Nothing of moment," the AI replied, sounding just a touch too unconcerned.

Tony thought for a second. "Did Pepper tell you to divert me?" he asked at last, annoyed.

"She did not...she merely implied she would prefer you were not made aware of those particular articles." There was no apology in Jarvis' tone. "Since the file and the original instructions are under her name, I--"

"That's enough," Tony snapped. "Pull them up, and shut up."

As the screen in front of him displayed tabloid pages, he made a mental note to adjust Jarvis' programming slightly, and leaned forward. What he read took him from irritation straight into anger, though not at his AI.

Normally Tony paid as much attention to the gossip rags as he did to the paper wads that didn't make it into his wastebasket--he cheered the great shots and ignored the rest, leaving them to someone else to clean up. But, he thought through the fury, Pepper couldn't clean this up, because it was about her.

The three most popular daily titles were all running variations on the same theme--that Pepper was a manipulative gold-digger who had somehow maneuvered Tony into their engagement, with sex, blackmail, and brainwashing all offered up as theories as to how. One of the magazines mentioned her stint in foster care, and added insult to injury by claiming that she was a social climber as well, desperate to escape a sordid, working-class past.

The smears made him want to put his fist through the monitor, or better yet a repulsor blast. They had no right to say such things about her, none at all, and when he got through with--

Tony took a deep breath, reminding himself that he could not go hunt up the editors in full armor, as satisfying as it might be. "Jarvis," he said, deliberately keeping his voice level. "Find out what it would take to buy up the publishers."

"Regrettably, that is not feasible," Jarvis said, and Tony thought there was a hint of anger in the artificial voice. "You have already reached the legal limit on ownership of media outlets."

Tony grimaced. "Can we get around that?"

"Not without changes in the current anti-monopoly laws, or sale of your existing holdings. The latter is not a wise course, however."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony waved it off, abandoning his fantasy of being able to fire the entire staff of each tabloid. "What do you suggest?"

The images on the screen disappeared. "I believe the saying is 'fight fire with fire'," the AI replied. "A statement to the press extolling Pepper's virtues might well counteract any ill feeling generated by the aforementioned articles."

"Huh." Tony pondered the idea. It didn't ease his anger, but it did make sense. "All right. Whip something up and give it to me in the morning. I'll have Cedric send it out." It was no good asking Pepper for a statement, he knew that already. If she'd tried to keep it from him--

"What did she say?" he asked abruptly. "Was she upset?"

"Pepper seemed more annoyed than hurt," Jarvis said judiciously. "I believe she was more concerned for your feelings than her own."

And that was Pepper through and through, Tony thought, his chest aching. She was guard as well as guide, caring for his heart as well as his life, and the knowledge hurt with the same sweet pain that had struck when he'd first realized he loved her. He rose from his chair, swallowing hard. He would go upstairs to their bed and hold her tightly, and apologize for everything he put her through, whether she woke or not--

But when he turned, he was startled to see her asleep on the old couch, endless legs stretched out over the cushions and one arm tucked underneath her head. Her hair was in her face, and she looked wholly adorable.

"When did she get here?" Tony hissed to Jarvis, belatedly whispering.

"Approximately two hours ago. You were working on the simulation at the time, and she chose to not distract you."

The ache was worse now. She wanted to be close to me.

It was still a new concept, and Tony bit his lip as he walked over to the couch. Pepper was so deeply asleep that she didn't move when he gathered her up, limp and warm; Tony cradled her close and walked to the elevator, his anger supplanted by a tenderness that felt unfamiliar and right.

He didn't sleep much that night; just holding Pepper was enough.

***

Jarvis' press release was as honest and positive as Tony could wish. He picked it up out of the printer while Pepper was in the bathroom doing her makeup, and scanned it quickly. It mentioned Pepper's graduation with honors, her MBA, the articles written about her, and her charitable contributions, which were many. It also listed the innovations she'd implemented at Stark Industries, including the high school internship program and the improvements in the company's healthcare benefits. Tony nodded, fished a pen from his breast pocket, and rewrote a sentence to remove the fact that the benefits changes had been his idea before folding up the paper and putting it away with the pen. We came up with it together, anyway.

When they got to SI headquarters, Tony waited until Pepper had given him the day's schedule and disappeared into her office before summoning Cedric. Pepper's assistant looked more tired than the last time Tony had spoken to him, but some of his frozen formality had eased, and he met Tony's gaze without flinching.

"Put this out through the usual channels." Tony handed him the press release. "And don't mention it to Pepper."

Cedric unfolded the sheet and read it over, frowning a little. Tony lifted a brow. "Problem?"

"Not with this." Cedric shook his head. "But she'll notice."

"And when she does, I'll take the hit." Tony leaned back in his chair. "You doing okay?"

Cedric looked startled, but nodded. "I'm fine, sir."

"Good." Tony looked him over, and mentally added his name to the wedding invitation list. If nothing else, after handling Pepper's extra work, he would deserve some party time. "You're doing a good job, Cedric. Keep it up."

The man actually smiled, if only barely, and flushed. Tony nodded at the paper. "Get that out over the wires before she gets up for her coffee break, and I'll double your bonus at Christmas."

Cedric's eyes widened, and he took himself out of Tony's office with admirable haste. Tony held in the snicker until the door closed, mindful of Pepper's injunction to be kind, and looked over his schedule. I wonder if I can convince her to take a long lunch in here with me.

Though lunch wasn't quite what he had in mind.

***

"Pepper?" Tony poked his head into her office that afternoon, but her chair was empty. That wasn't unusual, but he frowned; Pepper had specifically told him that she was going to be working on orders all afternoon, replenishing the supplies he needed to keep the armor in repair as well as for his other projects.

But when he went over to look at her computer, it was hibernating. Tony squinted at it, puzzled, and then strode to the door to the outer office and opened it. "Cedric?"

There was no one at Cedric's desk either, but a head popped up from further down. "They're at the party."

Sophie was the receptionist, but not the one Tony expected to see. "What party? And why are you here?"

Sophie, who was small and round and cheerful, dimpled at him. "I agreed to cover for Mei-Lin this afternoon so she could go too." Given that Stark Industries as a whole was a twenty-four-seven enterprise, Headquarters actually had four receptionists so that the main desk was never unattended, but Sophie handled the graveyard shift ordinarily. Tony rarely laid eyes on her.

He put his hands on his hips, feeling a definite edge of rancor. "What party? Did I authorize a party?"

Sophie blinked at him. "The shower, of course. Didn't you know about it? I thought Ceddie gave you a memo."

Memo? Tony tried to remember anything informing him of what he now presumed was a bridal shower, but nothing rang any bells. That didn't mean there wasn't one, however, buried somewhere in a stack of paper that Tony hadn't bothered to go through. "Oh. Right," he prevaricated. "That memo. Is everybody from the front office there?" It looked like Sophie was the only one on duty.

"No, Ted's on a smoke break, but everyone else, sure." Sophie seemed to believe him, at least. "Plus some of her friends from Accounting, and Ms. Fukushima, and I think they got her college roommate too."

The inclusion of the board member made Tony's brows go up, but he didn't comment. "Quite the guest list. Okay." He thought a moment, and suddenly remembered. Not a memo, because Pepper would see it, but a sticky note informing him of the surprise party and dinner to follow. "Do you know where they're going for dinner?"

"Heart of California, I think. The one downtown."

Tony nodded. "Call them up, and put the tab on my personal account."

Sophie smiled again, eyes twinkling. "Yes, sir." She turned smoothly away as her phone chimed discreetly.

Tony took himself back to his office as she answered it, and closed the door behind him, hitching one hip on his desk to look out the window at the panorama below.

It wasn't that he begrudged Pepper a party, particularly a surprise one, but it felt a little deflating to be left out. Leaning over to pick up his own phone, he hit the speed dial without looking at the screen and lifted it to his ear.

It took a ring and a half for a voice to answer. "Hey, man, what's up?"

"Is that any way to greet a captain of industry?" Tony said, contemplating the view and wondering vaguely why his father had chosen his office to overlook that particular angle. It may show off the campus, but it's damned dreary.

"Is that the hat you're wearing, instead of the 'I'm bored, so I'm going to bug my best friend' topper?" Rhodey answered easily.

"Excuse me, in this case I believe it's technically a 'chapeau'," Tony said, mentally repainting several SI roofs to spell out rude words.

"Maybe a propeller beanie."

"We have achieved liftoff," Tony intoned, and calculated how low a plane would have to fly to read the words.

Rhodey snickered. "Seriously, what do you need? Please tell me it's not that whole tank tread thing again."

Tony sighed exaggeratedly. "They didn't sink, they just got a little...bogged down."

"Yeah, and you practically had to take 'em apart to get 'em out again."

"Details." The idea had been one of Tony's few flat failures; he'd hoped to expand the idea to construction equipment if successful, but the physics of mud had defeated him, at least temporarily. "I just took it back to the drawing board, that's all."

"Leave it there," Rhodey advised, with an emphasis that made Tony smile.

"Yeah, sure. Want to grab a drink or something?"

He could almost hear Rhodey's eyes narrowing. "Did you two have a fight?"

Torn between amusement and irritation, Tony went with the latter. "Pepper's at some kind of wedding shower. Do you want to get together or not?"

"Only if it involves food. 'Scuse me." Tony heard a rustle, and then Rhodes' voice speaking some distance from the phone, telling a lieutenant to put the file in his box. "I meetinged through lunch."

"Hot wings and beer?" Tony offered. "Scalia's?"

"Hooters has better wings."

"Yeah, but their Scotch is crap." Tony loosened his tie, wondering if he should change clothes to add a layer of anonymity.

"All right, Scalia's. Last one there buys the first round."

"You're on, platypus." Tony snapped the phone off, and abandoned stealth in favor of speed. We'll bring Happy along and he can keep the fans off.

Forty minutes later, he was seated at the bar in the wood-and-leather haven of Scalia's, with Rhodey next to him and Happy perched at the little table behind them. The dim lighting would make it harder for someone to ID Tony, and while Happy was nursing a beer, he would switch to soda when it was gone. The waiter, however, was on strict orders to keep the French fries coming.

Tony licked hot sauce off his thumb and sighed happily. "We should do this more often."

Rhodey sipped his beer. "That's what you always say."

"And I'm always right." Tony took a swallow of his own drink, the same Dos Equis that Rhodey was drinking; Scotch didn't go so well with wings, so he was saving that for later.

"So what's up with Pepper?" Rhodey asked. "Bridal shower, did I hear that right?"

Tony shrugged comfortably. "All of SI is apparently throwing my PA a party, yep. Groom specifically not invited." He'd even remembered to send her a text message letting her know that he was meeting Rhodey for dinner. "I thought about crashing it, but I don't think that would work too well."

"Probably not," Rhodey agreed, reaching for another wing. "I've been meaning to ask--what the hell are you two doing, anyway?"

"She wants simple, so it's simple," Tony said. "We're going to have the ceremony on the back lawn, and then a party afterwards. Nothing fancy."

Rhodey munched for a moment. "How many groomsmen is she making you pick?"

His voice was so neutral that Tony blinked. "Uh...none."

Rhodey looked confused. "None? She's not having any bridesmaids?"

"No, simple, I told you." Tony stared at him, and then the light dawned, and he shoved his best friend's shoulder. "You dumbass, did you think I wasn't going to pick you or something?"

Rhodey coughed, and a flush darkened his cheekbones. "Well...I thought maybe you were pissed at me."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're a shithead."

"And you're whipped." They exchanged genial sneers. "So that's it? Promise and then party?"

Tony shrugged again. "That's what she wants." He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and took a sip of beer. "I thought about throwing a huge bash, but I have to admit that she might be onto something."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Tony smirked. "We'll get to the honeymoon part faster."

It was Rhodey's turn to roll his eyes. Another platter of hot wings was placed in front of them, and it was a few moments before Rhodes spoke again. "I guess that means it's up to me."

"What's up to you?" Tony asked around a mouthful of chicken.

Rhodey raised his bottle portentously. "As your non-best-man, it is my duty to throw your bachelor party."

Tony froze, French fry halfway to his mouth. "Uh."

Rhodey's slow smile was definitely evil. "Yep. Better get ready, Stark--this is gonna be epic."

***

He was working on a new design for the suit filters when Pepper got home from the party. She surprised him, walking down the garage ramp in stocking feet, her shoes dangling from one hand and a huge shopping bag in the other, and Tony put down his screwdriver and came out from behind the workbench to meet her. "Pepper? What's wrong--did your car break down?"

She was flushed and her hair was ruffled, but the smile on her face bespoke pleasure rather than annoyance--until she spotted him. "You. Stark." She pointed at him with the shoes. "How could you?"

Her frown baffled him, but not as much as her missing Audi. Tony took the shopping bag from her--it was heavy--and leaned in to kiss her. "How could I what? Why didn't you call?"

Pepper ducked away, leaving him kissless. "I took a cab because I had lots of champagne. We all did." She set her hands on her hips and glared at him. "And I was having a great time until Mei-Lin happened to mention your little press release."

Oops. Tony realized that while he'd fully intended to take the blame for his idea, he hadn't actually thought about how to deal with it. "Oh. Right."

"Tony, there's a reason I handle these things for you! You really have no grasp of discretion!" She swayed minutely, straightened, and widened her stance, and he realized with a mix of guilt and amusement that she was, if not outright drunk, at least tipsy.

"I know," he said meekly. "But nobody would have believed it if you'd done it, Pepper."

She huffed, and he gave her his best grin. "I did run it by Cedric first, does that make a difference?"

Pepper actually growled. "Oh, give me that." She snatched the bag out of his hand and set it on the nearest table with a thump, dropping her shoes next to it. "He had the sense to talk to PR."

She began unpacking the bag, which was full of boxes, mostly white; shower gifts, Tony realized. A clot of ribbons landed on top of one flat container, and idly he brushed it away and picked up the box. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I had to do something and Jarvis wouldn't let me buy out the tabloids."

He raised the lid of the box, blinked at the lacy and extremely scant contents, and whistled. "Wow. Okay, I totally approve of wedding showers now."

"Tabloids?" When Tony looked up, Pepper was squinting at him. "What are you talking--oh." She glared. "Jarvis!"

"I received a direct order," the AI said without a hint of apology.

Pepper threw up her hands and went back to her bag, and Tony put down the box he was holding and reached for another one. Without even looking, she slapped at his fingers. Ow. Okay, just tipsy then.

Sighing, Tony pressed up behind Pepper, trapping her between himself and the table, and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his way through her hair to her neck. "Come on," he coaxed, feeling her shiver as his mustache tickled. "I'll apologize if you want, but you know I'm right, Pepper..."

Her hands closed over his wrists, and she sighed. "I still have to deal with the aftermath, Tony."

"I know," he soothed, giving into the temptation that was her bottom pressed up against his groin. "Can I make it up to you?"

Her sour snicker was less heartening than her slow relaxation. "How about some warning next time? I can't do my job effectively if I'm not on top of developments."

"I promise," Tony said solemnly, and freed one hand to tug the collar of her blouse down, baring more skin to his lips. "How about being on top of me? You could model whatever that is in that box."

Pepper sighed again. "That's for later. Tony--"

She was clearly still annoyed, and Tony loosened his arms enough to let her turn to face him. Her hands came to rest on his chest on either side of his arc, and he covered them with his own, rubbing her wrists with his thumbs. "I couldn't let it go by, Pepper," he told her quietly. "You're my assistant, yes, but you're also my fiancée, and that means I get to defend you."

He kissed her nose. "Come on, haven't you always wanted a knight in shining armor?"

That made her giggle, and Tony smirked. "I suppose I could even come up with a sword if necessary."

"Oh no." Pepper shook her head vigorously. "You don't need another pointy object around here."

"You sure?" Tony leaned in and whispered something very vulgar concerning pointy objects, watching with delight as she turned a charming shade of pink. But before she could reply, Jarvis spoke.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but I have just discovered the whereabouts of Invoice 46-28832-B. Immediate action is recommended."

Damn. The news didn't kill his lust, but it did power it down, as it were. Pepper straightened in his grasp, her face grave, and Tony let her go. "Prep the suit, Jarvis."

By the time he had his pants off Pepper had retrieved a clean coverall and was waiting to hand it to him, both her tipsiness and her annoyance no longer in evidence. He wiggled into it quickly as Jarvis unfolded the platform and readied the armor, a strange metal embrace waiting for him to step into it.

Pepper held a low-voiced conversation with Jarvis while Tony let the 'bots encase him, but as soon as he was ready she was back, giving him the kiss that had become a pre-mission tradition. "Be careful," she told him, as she always did, and Tony could hear what underlay the caution--fear and love and longing all mixed. He smiled at her, not his cocky smirk but the one he kept just for her, an acknowledgment of what neither of them said out loud.

And then it was time to go.

***

As he stood in the shadow of a broken wall, the part of Tony's mind not occupied with angles and infrared reflected that usually most of a mission was taken up with getting to and from it. Flight time generally outstripped fight time by a wide margin.

Not today, though. He held still as an explosion sounded behind him and a little distance away--enough to make the ground tremble under his feet, but no more than that. The mercenaries who bore his weapons had scattered as soon as he'd landed in their midst, rather than trying to take him, and he had to give them points for tactics, because they seemed to be concentrating on wiping him out at a distance rather than directly. Not bad. Minimize their casualties, exhaust my resources--it's a pretty decent plan.

Except that it wasn't going to work. Tony's abilities in the suit were limited more by his own physical endurance than anything else, given his updated power supply; and nothing short of a matching power suit or vehicle-mounted heavy weaponry was going to have a prayer of getting through his armor. And while his opponents could run, they couldn't hide for long enough.

Still, it was tedious, draining work, hunting them down one by one. Tony had gotten into the habit of occasionally letting some poor bastard go if he--it was almost always a he--dropped the weapons and surrendered on sight; melting the stuff down with a repulsor blast was less damaging to his soul than killing someone who was babbling and begging in terror. But this group wasn't trying for surrender, and anyway he wasn't about to grant any mercy today, given what they'd done to the village they'd taken over.

"Jarvis?" he queried softly, habit keeping his voice low even though no one could hear him without the external speaker switched on. "What have we got?"

The HUD spun, using thermography to show four figures bracketing his hiding place from behind. "Three of them are carrying submachine guns; two have what appear to be rocket launchers. According to the heat signatures, one possesses a flamethrower."

Tony whistled at that last. "Seriously? I don't remember seeing any of those on the manifests."

"It is not a Stark Industries product; I believe it is of Russian manufacture."

"Huh." Tony scanned the area ahead of him, but the three figures who had been concealed behind various rockpiles had melted away. He was about to mention it to Jarvis when the wall behind him blew up.

The suit's internal repulsors cut in to cushion the blast, of course, and by the time he'd reached the apex of his curve Tony had control of himself and snapped into flight position. The four behind him were withdrawing, and he grinned coldly inside the helmet and dove after them.

Two went down quick and clean. "How long have we been at this, Jarvis?" Tony asked, hovering as he tried to get a bead on the other two.

"Two-point-seven hours, sir. There are still at least thirteen mercenaries remaining."

"That many? Damn. I must be slipping." There they were, a pair of scuttling figures moving in near-opposite directions. Tony let himself drop through the air, far faster than they could run.

"I do not think you are, sir," Jarvis said with a hint of concern. "The engagement pattern this group is displaying is highly sophisticated, and--"

"Hold that thought," Tony said, and let bullets rattle off him like so many raindrops before sending his targets to their presumptive rewards. "You were saying?"

"Analysis indicates that whoever is leading the individuals has a goal in mind," Jarvis went on.

"I'm sure he does." Tony lifted upwards about thirty feet for a good look around, re-engaging his thermographic sensors to see through the debris scattered across the landscape. Scattered spots of light, a cluster off to his right-- "He's just going to have to do it without my weapons."

The cluster shifted uneasily, more blurry than usual, and Tony figured that they were behind something, probably hidden to normal sight. Time for a little surprise. He snapped into a shallow-angled dive, putting on some speed. In the three seconds it took to reach his target, he heard Jarvis say "Sir, I don't think--"

--And realized as he blew into the old hut that what huddled within it was not human, but ovine. With perfect timing, the rockets came arcing in from all directions, and the platform beneath the sheep gave way in a roil of flame, taking them and Iron Man down into the pit beneath.

It took him another ten seconds to fight his way clear of what was left of the poor creatures, and the burning wood--just in time to see the gray tide break through the roof and come down from above like the end of the world. "Jarvis, what the hell--"

As the cement closed over his head, Tony snarled.