When A Bright Idea Dims
By Sinead

Author's Note: If you haven't read the opening pages of the Iron Man 2 novelization, you should. It's hilarious. Another thing to be aware of in this story: There WILL be more action.

Chapter One

Pepper was unsympathetic of the state that Tony found himself in. It had been a month since the Press Conference and Tony Stark "becoming one" with Iron Man, and the International Stark Expo opening show was under way. Becka and Happy were on the ground waiting for Tony and making sure that things were running smoothly behind the scenes, and Pepper was standing with arms folded behind Tony.

He holding onto the toilet carefully as he finished retching. "Oh, God, I'm gonna die."

"Get up. We're nearing the drop zone."

Groaning, Tony just wanted to wait for the unnatural nausea to end. He wasn't afforded that luxury as Pepper grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He noted her shoes in that moment, envied Happy for a half-second, then decided to hint to Becka about getting some of those shoes for herself. They could make legs look amazing, and for already-amazing legs, those shoes would make them look perfect. And both Pepper and Becka had great legs, long and perfectly curved in all the right ways.

"Pep, this isn't fair. This is a crisis!"

She wasn't taking any of his act. "Red Bull and Vodka are hardly cause for a crisis. This is a hangover. Welcome back to being human. Does Becka know that you've had this much to drink already?"

This was hell, was what it was. "It was a social drink!"

"Right. I forgot." The sarcasm in her voice was thick. "You were enjoying your own company."

Sighing and putting the helmet on, Tony looked at the now-open hatch with uncharacteristic trepidation. Fine.

"Don't forget to land on your feet," Jarvis snarked inside Tony's helmet.

Closing the faceplate, the man swore at his AI and ran out of the plane.

Seeing Tony in a suit of any kind was amazing. He was a man who looked fantastic in jeans and a battered t-shirt, kicking back and lazing about with a drink by the poolside in nothing but swim trunks, but when you put him in a suit or a tux . . .

Well, he was absolutely amazing.

Rebeckah had moved to just out of sight of the stage and audience while Tony catered to the crowd, controlling them effortlessly. She stood out of sight of Tony, too, when he walked to one of the wings and grabbed something to drink. Her eyes narrowed as he pulled a silver device out of his pocket. It didn't look like any of his normal tech gadgets. It was one of the medical models she had seen him working on. By the time he had finished glaring at the small digital screen and had put it back into his pocket, Tony walked back out on the stage to finish the welcome to the crowds.

When he had returned to the wings, Rebeckah was waiting for him, looking stunning in her professional attire. It was a black pencil skirt that came to just above her knees, paired with a white blouse, each having contrasting stitching of white and black, respectively. The designs were custom, and had come from her own hand. He had encouraged her to talk with some of the big-name designers after seeing some of the artwork and ideas that she sketched out on scrap pieces of paper and in a sketchbook.

But this stitching were stylized versions of the arrowed Stark logo, combined with the arc reactor as it appeared. He hadn't seen this outfit on her yet. Oh. She'd already gotten the same heels as Pepper. Score. She smiled up at his face, and he leaned in to land a chaste kiss to her nose. "Hi."

"Hi. Nice landing."

"Mm. Thank you. Want to go for a drink, Christian girl?"

"Only if there's dinner involved. I'm hungry, and have been handling things here with Happy." She paused, frowning. "Have you already had something to drink?" When he had kissed her nose, he smelled odd.

"Red Bull. And you're good at organizing people and getting them to do your bidding."

"Not mine. I'm following the same script you are." But her hand slid into his comfortingly. "What do you say to Chili's?"

"You're hooked on those Margaritas."

"Yeah, well what can I say? They're amazing."

He began to lead her towards where Happy was standing, waiting for him. "I'd've thought that a nice Irish girl like you would have gone more for whiskey or black beer."

"Hah! No, fruity drinks right now are good enough for me."

"I've noticed. Happy!" Tony grinned at his man and they shook hands in greeting. "How'd things run?"
"Smoothly, sir. Did you want to stay for a while?"

"Nope. I want to get going." Tony didn't say why, but if Happy was informed of how he had been puking his guts out on the plane, the man did an amazing job at keeping his mouth shut about it.

"Right this way, then."

What followed was a whirlwind of people greeting Tony and Becky, wanting autographs from Tony, pictures of both, handshakes, smiles, and for one group of college girls, well . . . they posed. Tony looked to Happy for an assist and the man got between the girls and the couple while Tony made a break for the door with Becky in tow.

Once outside in the relative quiet, the duo sighed simultaneously. Tony spoke first. "I didn't look."

"Don't lie to me."

"I . . . okay. I looked. Becka, I'm sorry."

"They were implants."

"Yeah. Not the best I've seen."

"Was a Miss Everhart natural?"

During the following seconds of silence and an almost-pained look on his face, Tony cursed wildly and inventively within his head. "Uhm. No. Who told you about her?"

"Pepper. Everhart spoke up at the press conference last month and I was curious about how she addressed you as someone that she'd been in contact with before."

"You're mad about something else."

"Oh. Oh, yes, sir I am." Her tone was factual, clipped, and very angry.

More internal cursing, but Tony was outwardly calm as Happy went to get the car. "Okay. What did I do?" Turning to face her, the inventor was trying to be reasonable with his fiancé.

"Who ordered the dancers in the Mark-Four Vicki's Secret version?"

Son of a whore. Stark rubbed at his face before replying, "I don't know."

"Yes you do, and don't lie to me this time. Who gave the dancers a go-ahead?"

"Why are you so mad about this?"

Her lips thinned, cheeks flamed, and eyes blazed. "Sorry, but I don't attract that particular gleam in your eye when you had been turning to acknowledge their presence on the stage. Nor, sir, do I get quite that lingering glance."

"Beck—"

She held a hand up. "I'm not done."

Tony sighed, shaking his head. "Please, Beck, not tonight, okay? Or at least not in public, okay? I was sick on the plane, I was almost sick in my helmet and—"

"And you're being served, Mr. Stark."

Both turned to look at the woman standing before them. She smiled and held out a paper. Tony didn't want to take it, but he knew that Becka wouldn't oblige him and take it for him. So, sighing, he opened it. "Summoned to face the Senate? Can I see the badge, please?"

The beautiful brunette flashed a stunning, but cold, smile. "Is it necessary?"

"I like to see badges."

She showed the badge. "Still like it?"

Happy drove up with the car and opened the door for Tony and Becky. Tony nodded. "Yep. Okay, see you bright and early."

They didn't return to their spat at all that night, nor did they get a chance before Tony had to appear before the U.S. Senate the following morning.