Out of habit (and what did it say about his life that it had become a habit?) Tony started heading for the office. He stopped himself halfway up the flight of stairs and reversed course. He needed some workshop time, and maybe having something to do with his hands would make the conversation with Pepper easier.
He tried her number twice and it rang repeatedly before switching to voicemail. He didn't leave a message; she'd know why he called. He sank onto the stool at his workstation and debated whether to wait or go back upstairs to find out the full story of what the others had been up to the previous day. At least, those were the conscious thoughts. His subconscious was busy brooding on what her failure to pick up could mean.
His phone buzzed and he had it in his hand before he'd fully registered the sound. Sorry, on a conference call. Will you be free when I'm finished?
Take your time. I'll be here.
He put his phone down and pulled up his project list in a much better frame of mind. At the top was finalizing the document releases, followed by the repulsor bots. "Friday, call up the IT office and put me on speaker."
He got up and started preparing coffee while Friday made the connection.
"Hello?" a weary voice said over the sound of rapid typing and indistinct conversations.
"Good morning, my minions," he replied cheerfully. The background noise immediately ceased.
"Good morning, Mr. Stark," came an obedient chorus of voices.
"How are we doing with the prep for the document release? Storage, you're up."
"The drive to be submitted to the investigators is locked and loaded, we just need the go-ahead on the files," was the soft-spoken, lightly drawled response.
"Thank you, Angie. Security protocols are being followed, yes?"
"Of course," she said, sounding slightly offended. "Level seven protocols are already being observed."
"At least two people will need to travel to Washington with the drive. Plus a security detail. I don't care who it is," he said, quickly checking a calendar. It was Friday, so there was no point hurrying to Washington with the thing right away. "Depart for the tower on Sunday, then finish the rest of the trip on Monday. Ground travel is fine. You'll have the go-ahead on the files by the end of the day."
"Yes, sir."
"All right, servers and networking. We're about to bring the world down on us when we make that batch public, how do we look?"
"We'll be fine, sir," was the immediate response. "Servers have been designated and isolated from the compound infrastructure so an overload won't take everything down. We'll mirror the content using the other server farms, and our testing of the content pages so far has produced no problems. We haven't been able to subject the search pages to the same rigorous testing-"
"Because the search functionality hasn't been finalized," a peevish male voice interrupted. "We've had no-"
"No, no, you don't get to interrupt the lovely Paige," Tony interrupted, and chose to ignore the muttering that followed. "Please go ahead, my dear." He poured his coffee and returned to his perch while she resumed.
"I was only going to say the search pages haven't been tested as thoroughly yet because we haven't received guidance about the required functionality," Paige said simply. "We've taken our best guess, but . . ."
"What have you got? You may speak, Brandon," he replied, blowing on his coffee and idly opening a new file to start working on the repulsor bot idea.
"We have browse by date, participant, and type of file. We're assuming full-text search is wanted, but it seriously degrades response time and won't hold up to the level of usage we're projecting," Brandon said, sounding less sullen now that he was allowed to voice his concern.
"Not even with all of the servers we're throwing at this?" Tony asked somewhat incredulously.
"Not using the current architecture, and we don't have time to try a different one unless you would like to delay the release to the public," Paige said confidently.
"Then scrap it. If it won't work, don't include it in the initial release. Throw up what you have, and you can keep troubleshooting the other stuff afterward." He sighed and shook his head. He hadn't officially announced that the documents would be released that day, but they were so close he didn't want to delay any longer. Search seemed like it should be easy, but designing for the internet wasn't one of his many talents. Far easier to build his own infrastructure and run an AI to find things for him.
"In that case, once we have your approval on the content to include, we'll need about six hours to do final testing and indexing before it will be ready to go."
"Coordinate with Mel on flipping that switch."
"We're already in communication."
"Glad to hear it. Anything else?" After a beat of silence, he said, "All right, minions, back to work. Good luck and we'll be in business by the end of the day. You know where the good coffee is."
He did one last skim of each set of files as soon as they disconnected. Satisfied, he sent notifications to the appropriate people, including Bill so the lawyers would know what was happening.
That finished, he returned to the repulsor bots. He couldn't believe he hadn't had the idea earlier; it was similar in underlying concept to the prehensile suit he'd worked on a while back, but his focus then had been on suits, not a fleet of flying repulsors.
He was in the midst of designing the housing when Friday announced, "Incoming call from Pepper Potts, boss."
He immediately stopped what he was doing. "Friday, save everything, then pick up." He waited a beat, then said, "Hey Pep. How was the conference call?"
She sighed her aggravated sigh. "You don't need me to tell you how those things usually go."
"The board?" he asked sympathetically.
"Some of them. They are Very Concerned about your little investigation," she said, the capital letters evident in her tone. "So of course they wanted to talk to me about it first thing on a Friday morning as if I can do anything about what the government is up to."
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "If I could make it better, I would."
"I know you would," she replied, her voice a little less tense.
"I wanted to apologize for forcing you to choose between me and the company without having all the information," he said quickly. "At the time it seemed like the only thing I could do, but it wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry."
She didn't answer for a long moment. "Thank you, Tony," she said finally. "Now what?"
"Now what?" he repeated. "I don't know."
She waited.
"I don't know," he said more slowly. "Lately I, um, it's been hard to know what to expect after . . . everything. It's, I used to be able to anticipate. Cause and effect. Action and reaction. But now things are different and it's throwing me off."
"Oh, really?" she said dryly. "I hadn't noticed."
"And yet the doc wants me to think about what I want my future to look like," he confessed. "I don't know what to think. All I know is I hope you're a part of it."
"Doctor Mann?" Pepper asked, sounding confused.
"No, Doc T. Doctor Tanya. The therapist."
"Ah. Did she also suggest that you apologize?"
"No! No, I realized I needed to do that all by myself." He wasn't sure what it said about his ability to have relationships that she immediately suspected an apology would only come at someone else's behest.
"Well, that's good, Tony," she said encouragingly. "Thank you for apologizing. It absolutely wasn't fair, and it was also completely unnecessary."
"You said that before. I'm beginning to think you're right," he admitted.
"Of course I am. Between the two of us, I'm far better at getting along with people."
He chuckled ruefully. "That's true. It's one of many reasons that you're my CEO."
"And also, I hope, your girlfriend," she said softly.
"I would like that," he replied, grateful she had brought it up. He wanted to ask, but didn't think she'd appreciate his recent on again, off again approach to their relationship. He'd almost thought she would insist on keeping the breakup official.
"Then it's good the press never found out about that little hiccup," she teased.
"Even if they had, it's not like we haven't broken up before."
"Yes, we should probably work on that. Does your doctor also do relationship counseling? Oh, dammit!"
"What?" he demanded, straightening in his seat.
He heard her muffled voice call to someone and then bark a rapid-fire order. When she spoke again, she sounded normal. "It's nothing, really. We just had a little earthquake and I spilled coffee on my white skirt."
"Coffee is a bitch to get out," he said sympathetically even as he turned to his monitor and typed a command for Friday to check the recent earthquake reports.
"I have my ways, it will be fine."
There was a prolonged rustling from her end of the line and he finally asked, "What are you doing?"
"Changing my skirt so my PA can run water through the spot before it sets," she said casually.
"And you didn't turn on your video first?" he pouted.
"Aren't you still on that medication?"
"Yeah, so?"
She laughed and the rustling ceased. "I'm more than happy to let you watch the next time you're on this coast," she promised.
"I'll hold you to that," he said fondly.
"I'm not a girl who goes back on her word," she replied tartly, then sighed. "I should go. The shaking was strong enough to activate the earthquake protocols and I should be available."
"Let me know if there's anything I can do."
"I will. Don't be a stranger."
There were a lot of things she might mean by that, but the most basic was Keep in touch. "I won't."
He didn't move for a few seconds after the line went dead, then pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
He took a deep breath and examined the earthquake reports closely. To activate the earthquake protocols, the shaking would have been at least a three point five, and while those weren't uncommon for the area, there were always some concerns about the minor quakes triggering a major one.
In this case, it looked like it was a larger quake, centered to the south, and the ripples of energy had radiated past the L.A. area. Just as well for them but too bad for the schmucks in San Diego.
He dismissed the information as irrelevant and returned to his project. When Rhodey arrived to chase him up to lunch, he had a holographic prototype floating above the desk. "You like it?" Tony asked proudly.
"What is it?"
"Repulsor bot. They can help support things in flight, and also blow up on command. An array of them could keep the quinjet in the air if there's an engine failure."
"So it's a boot jet without the boot."
"Almost. These have self-contained power sources."
"Huh. And they blow up?"
"Look who you're talking to. Of course they can blow up."
"So if we'd had these on the mission, we could have attached one to each jetpack dude and then blown them up?"
"Now you're getting the idea."
"Nice. It's time for lunch, want to have show and tell?"
That, he could do. He saved everything and shut it down, following Rhodey to the door. "I insist you guys go first. I was never given the skinny on that list."
"We can do that," Rhodey said gamely. "But I'm sure it's nothing you haven't already thought of, or I'd have told you by now."
"I still want to know how devious they are."
"Do you really think anyone on the team wants you in jail?"
"I'm thinking there are a few, yeah."
"You might want to think again."
There was nothing to say to that, so Tony changed the subject. "I talked to Pepper," he said casually as they stepped into the elevator. Rhodey was wearing his braces for once, but that didn't mean he'd want to scale multiple flights of stairs, especially when he looked like he'd just had physical therapy.
"Yeah? How'd it go?"
"Good. Really good. Probably would've lasted longer but there was some shaking that activated the earthquake protocols."
"That happens, what, every other week? Any damage?"
"We upped the threshold after that one month with four alarms and no problems, so it's been a while. But yeah, not a huge deal. No damage that I've heard."
"That's good. Why do you keep your headquarters in earthquake central, anyway?" Rhodey asked idly as he stepped off the elevator.
"Where should it be, New York?" Tony scoffed, then had an idea.
Stark Industries could afford to buy the tower from him if he decided to sell. The New York office could be moved there, and maybe Pepper could be convinced to make it her headquarters, even if the L.A. operations remained in place. It made a lot of sense and, selfishly, he'd have Pepper and Happy much closer. He could live in the city, keep an eye on the kid, and still be at hand when the shit hit the fan and the Avengers had to save the world again. Malibu could be his (their?) vacation home for surfing or escaping New York winters.
It was the closest thing to a plan for his future that he'd had in a while. It felt good.
"Earth to Tony." Rhodey sounded like he was laughing at him.
He grinned back and sauntered through the door Rhodey was holding open. "Sorry, I had a thought."
"Just one? I thought it took at least three simultaneously to derail you like that."
"Okay, so it was several things combined into one. Better?"
"Sure," Rhodey said amiably.
The conversation was dropped as they crossed the room and were drawn into the chatting in the kitchen and around the table. Mel and Sara were both there, so the discussion over lunch centered on show and tell of a different sort.
"So what's the story?" Tony asked curiously when Mel nodded in his direction.
"I think I've heard from every major news outlet in the country, to say nothing of the international press," she said wearily, stirring her coffee slowly before taking a careful sip. "At the behest of your lawyers, I've declined all requests for follow up interviews with you, by the way. So don't go talking to anyone behind my back."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he said innocently, taking a bite from his burger. "Why do you think I hired you?"
"Right," she said doubtfully.
"What has the reaction been? I haven't been following the news," Rhodey asked to get the conversation back on track.
"Overall? They like Tony, or at least Iron Man, so there has been a fair amount of pushback against the government. There are some petitions asking for the investigation to be discontinued and the Capitol Hill switchboard has been swamped."
"What about the people who lost someone in Sokovia? What do they think?" Tony asked somberly.
"That varies," Mel admitted. "No one has contacted me directly, but I get the sense from social media that they want the investigation to continue to its natural end. A few want a public trial for your supposed crimes against humanity."
"But it was Ultron who did this, not Stark," Wanda objected forcefully.
Mel shrugged. "Ultron isn't around to prosecute, plus I'm not sure a robot could be held legally responsible anyhow. That's a can of worms the lawyers will have to deal with the next time something like this happens."
"The next time? You think something like this could happen again?" Rogers asked.
"The Vision exists," Mel pointed out. "Who knows what else could be out there?"
Silence followed for several minutes. Tony almost commented that whatever else might be out there, it wasn't his fault, but he decided he didn't want to open that can of worms. Eventually Mel ventured, "On a more positive note, a bunch of people say they've given money to the U.N. for the Avengers."
Clint barked a laugh and Mel shot him a glare. "Wait, are you serious?" he asked.
"I'm serious," she insisted. "There have been a lot of social media posts. I haven't checked with the U.N., though I passed word to your lawyer people so they can ask about it."
"That's . . . unexpected," Tony said thoughtfully. "Appreciated, but unexpected. I wonder if we can accept it."
"Why wouldn't you? Other U.N. agencies accept donations," Sara put in.
"Do they? I've never paid attention," Tony admitted.
"Yeah, they do," Clint agreed. "Laura got on a mailing list once."
"Wait, you would get fundraising mail at your secret house?" Tony asked dubiously.
"My connection to Laura and the kids was the secret, not the house itself," Clint retorted. "The mail would come there just like anywhere else."
"Take it easy, I mean no harm," Tony said placatingly.
"This time, maybe. Or do you have that gauntlet up your sleeve?" Clint grinned and winked.
"Always."
"Has there been any reaction from the government, from Ross?" Natasha inquired.
"I haven't heard anything from Bill," Tony said, checking his phone as he spoke.
"No one who has asked for comment from Ross or the administration has received a reply," Mel reported. "Including me."
"So, what do you think he'll do?" Tony asked.
"Something dickish," Clint declared.
"I thought that went without saying," Rhodey said.
"It does," Tony agreed, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Sara was returning to the table with a tablet. When she'd left, he didn't know. A moment later, she slid the tablet onto the table next to his plate, a ranked list prominently displayed. "Thanks," he said with some surprise.
While he perused the list, the conversation continued without him. The things they'd thought of were the same or similar to what he'd considered, so there were no grand revelations. That worried him, though, because he had the feeling that what he'd considered wasn't dramatic enough to be Ross's true plan.
Then he heard his name and he looked up again. "What's that now?"
"Were you able to review the documents Sara and I pulled together?" Rogers asked.
"Yep, and the minions are doing their thing to put them where they need to be. The public batch will be ready by the end of the day."
"So what do we do if all of this doesn't make Ross react?" Rhodey asked no one in particular.
"I release the recordings of our amiable exchanges," Tony said carelessly, taking a bite of an apple and frowning when it turned out to be rather mealy. "I'll end up giving those to the investigators anyway. Might as well show the good people the assholery I've been putting up with."
"So what do we do for right now? I mean, is there anything else that can be done to help?" Sam asked.
Tony shrugged and looked to Mel, who also shrugged.
"What I'm hearing is that anyone who hasn't trained in the last twenty-four hours needs to hit the gym," Rhodey said.
Tony pretended to launch his crummy apple in Rhodey's direction and got a laugh out of Clint. Rhodey merely raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, sir," Tony said sarcastically.
"Will it be a group exercise or individual?" Rogers asked earnestly.
"You're on your own, I've already put in my time today," Rhodey said.
"So has he. He's just being all teacher's pet about it, big surprise," Tony teased.
"My morning run doesn't count as training," Rogers objected.
"Whatever floats your boat, big guy," Tony said as he stood and cleared away his dishes and Rhodey's. He didn't actually object to having a little mandatory exercise, not when he hadn't done anything of the sort all week, but it was fun to annoy Rhodey.
Wanda was already taking care of the dishes, so he headed off to change. And have Friday report on his parts inventory to see if he could make a couple bot prototypes with what he had lying around. He reviewed the list on his way downstairs and concluded that it just might work.
He took one of the treadmills so he could perch his phone on the machine and poke at the schematics as he worked his way up from a brisk walk to a leisurely jog. He heard the others talking and machines humming around him, but he paid them no heed as he sank deep into thought.
"What is that?" a voice asked from right beside his elbow and he nearly stumbled in his surprise. A strong hand gripped his elbow as the voice said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
He glanced over at Rogers and moved his elbow away. "It's a repulsor bot," he said, uncertain if he should be wary of Rogers's interest or not. "I still need to build the prototype, but it should work."
"What does it do?" He sounded genuinely interested.
Tony reduced his treadmill speed and described it the same way he had to Rhodey. Rogers also immediately connected them to the recent mission. "Could they bring down something like the Ultron drones?" Rogers asked next.
"Depends on the strength of the power source, but yeah, the ones I'm planning to pilot test should have enough explosive force."
"How many would it take to kill those giant alien beasts from New York?"
"A lot. Using a Hulk is far more effective from multiple angles," Tony said, deciding to take the question at face value.
"It's too bad we don't have one right now."
"Maybe I should try making one of those next," he mused.
Rogers hesitated for just a moment before he responded in kind. "He wouldn't have much to destroy out here."
"And the compound needs renovating anyway. There's a thought: maybe I should test the explosive capabilities of these new bots on the particularly terrible parts of this building."
"Don't break anything you don't have the money to fix," Natasha said cryptically, passing by the front of his treadmill. He wasn't sure if she was mocking his idea or merely suggesting that he wait and he didn't want to admit his uncertainty and ask for clarification.
"She has a point," Rogers said after a beat in which he was probably working out the same thought.
"She often does," he replied.
"Did you realize you've been on this thing for over an hour?" Rogers asked, evidently giving up on trying to continue the banter. "That's why I came over, to find out what had you so engrossed."
He hadn't realized. The digital readouts had been unimportant while he was thinking, but they confirmed Rogers's comment. He slowed to a stop and shrugged. "I was thinking. It happens."
Rogers nodded and walked away without further comment. Tony watched him go and tried to remember the last time he had willingly participated in banter. It seemed to suggest Rogers was loosening up a bit, or at least relaxing toward him. It was a nice change.
He stepped down and did a few stretches before grabbing his phone and heading for the workshop. He had building to do.