Recommendation: Story recommendation for this chapter is "The Queen Who Fell to Earth" by Bobmin356. There are a couple of crossovers between Harry Potter and Dragonriders of Pern, but this is the one to read. It's the first of a trilogy, though the third and final installment probably won't be completed, sadly. Bob and Alyx do a great job bringing together two very different stories in a plausible way and in the process produce an enjoyable story of their own.

Chapter 3 - Setting Up the Pieces

Los Angeles, California, USA. December, 2008.

When Hermione returned home from Iris' wake, her owl Archimedes was waiting with a couple of letters. She'd had a special charm placed on the large outside windowsill so owls could come, go, and even wait without being noticed by the neighbors. The last thing she needed was the Audubon Society camping out on the street below to take photos of non-native owls taking up residence in the middle of the city.

This was especially true since Archimedes was a Eurasian eagle owl. One of the largest owl species, she'd picked him shortly before moving to America because he could make the trans-Atlantic flights much more easily than the smaller owl species that were so much more popular among British wizards and witches.

After giving Archimedes some treats and water, she looked at the second, unexpected piece of parchment he'd brought with him and recognized the handwriting, though she hadn't seen it for quite a while. I wonder what's going on that would cause Ron to include a letter with Ginny's response...

Opening it up, she found that the letter consisted mostly of bland, general information — and not a lot of that, which wasn't a surprise, as Ron had never been much of a letter writer. After reading it through a second and third time, however, Hermione realized why it seemed off to her: there was an undercurrent of fear and worry that she had never before seen in any of Ron's letters.

After the war, Ron had decided to help George run the joke shop, and he'd apparently been given the job of managing their new Hogsmeade store sometime recently. Both working the floor and working as manager put Ron in contact with regular people on a daily basis, and the growing uneasiness in magical Britain seemed to have finally made its way into Ron's brain.

Ron Weasley had been one of Hermione's most consistent detractors when she warned others about the signs she was seeing and the direction she feared society was going. He had always called her "mental" before changing the topic to Quidditch or dishing up another helping of food.

Now, though, even Ron was getting worried — not enough to say so outright, but worried enough to write her in the first place. The problem was, she didn't know what she was supposed to do about it. She couldn't tell him that everything would be alright, and she didn't want to say "I told you so." So what on earth could she possibly write to him?

Stark Expo. Flushing Meadows, New York.

Tony Stark sat in silence while his chauffeur, Happy Hogan, drove him from the Stark Expo to Washington D.C. The opening of the Expo had been quite a success, if he did say so himself. He had gotten another chance to appear as Iron Man, thus setting the tone for how Stark Industries would provide people with a better future through technology. He had even taken time to showcase his father's introduction to the last Expo in 1974. It had been presented as a way to show continuity between his father's work and his own, though people would eventually realize that it also helped make Howard's efforts look inferior to Tony's.

That would come, though. For now, he needed to get himself mentally prepared to face the Senate Armed Services Committee in Washington. He had a good idea of what they wanted: his Iron Man suit. Well, he wasn't going to give it to them. He was using that technology to keep America safe, and he certainly didn't trust any of those senators with it — especially that Senator Stern.

Fortunately Tony was popular enough that he had public support behind him. That could change, given how fickle the public could be, but the Stark Expo should help with that. A few well-timed appearances of Iron Man should as well. If things went as badly with his health as he feared, he only had to hold on for a little while. If he could prove that one man could be trusted to do this, maybe he could find a worthy successor — someone who would keep Iron Man in private hands.

He would need to do it before it was too late, though. If he couldn't, he'd have to seriously consider Operation Meltdown, the complete destruction of all data, prototypes, materials, and suits in order to prevent any of it from getting into the hands of the military or any of his former competitors, like Justin Hammer.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Facility, New York City, April, 2009.

Iris stepped into Fury's office to see him poring over several different files at once. "Director Fury, you wanted to see me?"

Looking up, he responded, "Agent Potter. Good, it's about time. We've got a situation that I'm not yet sure how we're going to handle, but I want you in position so you can deal with it if it becomes necessary for us to step in."

"Yes, sir. What and where?"

Pushing a button on his computer, Fury brought up an image of Tony Stark on the large screen behind him. "I trust that no introductions are necessary, here?"

Iris' eyes widened slightly at the image in front of her. She had always known that S.H.I.E.L.D. would have further dealings with Tony Stark — his Iron Man suit guaranteed that. Truth be told, having to deal with Stark would give her more opportunities to spend time with Hermione, so that was a win. However, Fury's tone indicated that there was a problem, and that didn't bode well for anyone.

"What's the mission, sir?" she asked, keeping her tone even so as not to betray any of her feelings.

"For now, your mission will be to observe and protect," Fury stated.

"Protect, sir?" Iris asked. "Why would Iron Man need protection?"

"Because there's something wrong with Tony Stark. We think he's sick." Fury began pulling out documents while new images of Stark started appearing on the large monitor. "He's reduced his number of public appearances. He frequently looks tired and lethargic. He's started making huge donations of his personal assets — like for example donating his entire modern art collection to the Boy Scouts of America."

"Stark may be eccentric," Iris observed, "but that sounds a bit off even for him."

"Exactly," responded Fury. "Our best guess right now is that there is something wrong with the arc reactor in his chest. He may be a genius, but he still made himself a guinea pig for untested technology. Well, untested inside the human body, at least. It wouldn't be surprising if it were causing him problems. As it happens, I know a few things about the arc reactor technology that even he doesn't, but I don't know if that will be relevant, so I'm going to hold off on bringing that up. If it becomes necessary, I'll talk to him about it personally."

This piqued Iris' curiosity, and she wondered what Fury could possibly know about the arc reactor that Stark would be unaware of.

"So you're to watch him for signs of illness and report back on anything unusual," Fury continued. "You will also be protecting him. That's part truth and part cover. It's the truth because if he's sick, he may not be as able to defend himself. It's a cover because we don't want him to know right now that we're keeping an eye on his health. We have a story about terrorist threats ready to use. He already knows enough about your skills to understand that you can be an asset if something happens."

"Very well, sir," Iris said, making to leave. "I'll be gone inside the hour."

"Oh, and Potter," Fury called out before she could open the door. "Our intelligence strongly suggests that your girlfriend may be involved in helping him with whatever his illness is. So be sure to talk to her ASAP and see what you can get out of her."

Iris narrowed her eyes as she looked back over her shoulder, "She's not my girlfriend, sir. We're not involved — we're just friends." With that, she left.

"Yeah, so you say," Fury said to the empty office. "But how much longer do you think that will last?"

Longitude: Unknown; Latitude: Unknown; 55,000 Feet Above the United States.

Iris Potter let part of her mind drift as her fingers moved automatically over the controls of the jet. One of the benefits of having had so much magic infuse her mind was the ability to split her attention over multiple tasks. It was especially useful in a fight, but it also served her well in situations like this: she could complete complicated tasks associated with flying a high-tech jet aircraft while still leaving much of her mind free to wander.

Flying a jet wasn't the same as a broom, but she couldn't easily fly a broom anymore, and flying a jet this high was almost as good. Up above the clouds and the turbulence, with all her troubles left behind so far below, she truly felt free. Up here, she could be alone and think in peace.

And right now, her thoughts were primarily focused on Nick Fury. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, she thought to herself. That phrase was starting to mean a whole lot more to her than ever before, she realized much to her chagrin.

Focus, Iris, she chastised herself. Work the problem, don't simply complain about it. What would Hermione do?

Hermione... she was part of the issue, as a matter of fact. Fury kept dropping her name in conversations. Not every conversation, but often enough to stand out as curious. He's also gone out of his way more than once to make sure I knew that he knew that there was more between us than friendship, she mused. But why? S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't care about that sort of thing.

So Fury was interested in Hermione. That would have been obvious anyway — Iris knew that she had been approached to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. Although she wasn't initially interested, she'd undergone a change of heart eventually and had started seriously thinking about it. If it weren't for the fact that she loved her job, appreciated having Stark as a boss, enjoyed her growing closeness with Potts, and felt that her work was important, she sometimes sounded like she would jump at the opportunity S.H.I.E.L.D. had offered her.

Could that be all there is to it? Iris asked herself. Is Fury simply trying to encourage me to work on Hermione to get her to join up? She thought about that for a bit, letting the idea roll around in her mind. It's not implausible. It's no surprise that they want her. She'd be one more magic user on the roster and she knows way more about magical theory than I ever will. If she can integrate magic with technology, S.H.I.E.L.D. would acquire significant advantages over any enemies.

But why use me? she wondered. Obviously, sending other agents would eventually annoy her and drive her away. Since he knows about our relationship, he knows I won't push that hard. He knows I'll have enough sense to keep her thinking about it without annoying her. And he knows that I have a personal interest in her joining. Come to think of it, he might be manipulating things to ensure that I only see her often enough to keep things going well, but not so often that we get comfortable with the current arrangement.

Half a year had passed since she had been reunited with Hermione. Now that she thought about it, Iris realized how hectic and disjointed the last six months had been. They'd only been able to get together five times since reconnecting, and the intervals between meetings had been growing longer. Phone calls helped, but she'd been sent on many assignments that required odd hours in distant time zones, making phone calls tricky to arrange.

Maybe that is Fury's game, Iris concluded as her hands began to initiate descent and landing procedures. I'll have to pay more attention to what he says and does.

Stark Industries Corporate Headquarters, California.

Iris barely had time to sit down before Pepper Potts appeared in the lobby and walked over to greet her. "Iris! Good afternoon!" she called out. "It's so good to see you again. How long has it been this time?"

"Almost two months," Iris answered. "Living and working on the other side of the country is getting more and more inconvenient."

"Tell me about it," Pepper said, rolling her eyes as she led the auburn-haired woman to a private elevator. "I like your new hair, by the way."

"Thanks," Iris replied once they had privacy inside the elevator. "It's my old hair coloring — what I originally grew up with. I lightened it for an assignment once and decided to keep it that way. Now that I'm supposed to be someone else, though, I've let it go back to its natural color."

"Well, it suits you," Pepper said with a smile. "So what brings you to see us today? I noticed that you wanted an immediate appointment with Tony rather than with Hermione. It's fortunate that he's in today, cleaning out his office."

"What, why?" Iris asked, worried.

"Oh, you probably haven't heard," Pepper responded, clearly a bit embarrassed. "Tony named me CEO of Stark Industries. He's stepping back and putting me in charge."

"Wow," Iris said, distracted. "That's... hard to believe..." Abruptly realizing what that sounded like, she hastily added, "Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you'll do wonderfully! But for him to do something like that all of the sudden..." Iris added this to the list of odd behaviors exhibited by Stark recently.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Pepper assured her. "I felt the same way when he told me his decision. You're absolutely right, it is odd, but then again, he has been acting a bit odd lately. For example, he's been away from the office a lot the past few months and he hasn't told me why."

"That is strange, I thought he was a workaholic," Iris agreed.

"Exactly," Pepper said. "So, what's this meeting about?"

"It would be best if I simply told the two of you at the same time," Iris said, "and, yes, you should be there as well. After we get that sorted, I'll take a little time to see Hermione. Is she in today, do you know?"

Pepper frowned, then replied, "No, she hasn't been working in this building for a couple of months. Currently she's in another facility, but I don't know where, and I don't even know what she's doing. It's all very hush-hush for some reason. Now that I'm CEO, I'll be able to find out."

Iris filed that tidbit away, seeing it as possible confirmation of what Fury suspected. "That's fine, I'm sure Tony knows where she is and can point me in the right direction."

"He hasn't even told me where she is, so he might not want to divulge that information, especially since you don't work for him."

Iris looked coolly at the redhead and raised one eyebrow. "I'm not concerned. No one keeps me from Hermione."

Smiling thinly, Pepper asked, "You really care about her, don't you?"

Iris' face softened as she said quietly, "Yes, more than she knows."

"Then why did you leave her?" Pepper's face and tone had lost much of their friendliness.

Iris was surprised — she had never expected to get this question from Pepper, and especially in such a blunt manner. "That... that's complicated," she managed to say, suddenly much less confident.

"I don't mean to pry," Pepper explained with a serious look on her face, "but I've gotten close to Hermione over these past few months, and I care about her. I can tell that you hurt her badly before, and I don't want to see her hurt like that again."

Iris confused Pepper by flashing her a broad, warm smile, then said, "So, did you decide to accompany me up to Tony's office with the intention of giving me the Shovel Speech, or was that a last minute thing?"

Pepper gaped in surprise and slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God!" she gasped from behind her hand. "I did do that, didn't I? I'm so sorry..."

Iris laughed. "No, don't apologize! You have no idea how happy it makes me to know that she has people in her life who care about her enough to threaten me, even obliquely. It's comforting, to be honest."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, but before Pepper could walk out Iris laid a hand on her arm and said, "I know I hurt her, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret it — or that I'm not thankful that she's giving me another chance. I'm not perfect, but I am trying to be better. I can't promise that I won't make any mistakes, but I will promise that I will do my best to make her happy."

"Thanks," Pepper said smiling, "That's all I can ask for."

Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Bruce Banner sighed in relief as he finished wiping down the conveyor belt and put his rag back in his pocket. He lifted his wrist to check his heart monitor — the number was still high, but it was at least dropping steadily. He'd gone into a panic when he cut himself and watched his blood fall down through the bottling machinery, causing his heart rate to spike to dangerous levels. He didn't want to think about how much damage the Other Guy might cause if he transformed in here, in the middle of the day.

It hadn't been much blood that fell, but if even a single drop had contaminated one of the bottles instead of hitting the conveyor belt, he would have put some innocent consumer at great risk. They could have died, he thought, or even worse, they might have become afflicted with the same condition I've been dealing with for years. I wouldn't want to wish that on anyone. Death would certainly be better.

A rumbling issued from deep inside him at that pronouncement.

"Ugh!" Bruce moaned and put a hand to his stomach, thinking that something he ate at lunch disagreed with him. He failed to realize that the "disagreement" was far more serious and profound.

Resolving to be more careful about getting cut — and about what he bought to eat from those street carts — Bruce made his way back to the motor he had been trying to repair. The factory owner gave him a lot of leeway in his job, but only because he was so good at keeping the machines running.

Behind him, a clear bottle with a dark red streak inside wobbled along the belt, on its way to be filled with a carbonated drink that would be shipped to the United States the following month.

Tony Stark's Office, Stark Industries, California.

"Good afternoon, Agent Potter," Tony said while boxing up some documents. "What can I do for you? Your message when you made this appointment sounded urgent."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stark," Iris replied, imitating the formality he showed. In casual settings, they could be friends — or at least friendly. Here, they needed to be formal. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has developed some worrying intelligence concerning you, and they've sent me to help out." As she and Pepper sat in the lounge area side of his office, Iris pulled out a file and tried to hand it to him.

"Sorry, but no," he said as he held up his hands. "I don't like to be handed things." Iris shrugged and passed it over to Pepper instead, who immediately opened it and began reading.

"Multiple sources indicate that there are plans by terrorists to come after you — whether for ransom, to acquire your suit's technology, or both. S.H.I.E.L.D. wants me here to help protect you." Looking over at Pepper, she added, "That's not everything, of course. We didn't want to compromise any of our assets. It's mostly a general overview so you understand what we think we're facing."

Tony scoffed at this, saying, "No offense to you and your skills, but does S.H.I.E.L.D. think that I need a bodyguard?"

"This is serious, Tony," Pepper said without looking up from the file. "You shouldn't dismiss this threat."

"Of course not, Mr. Stark," Iris replied. "We know that you of all people can take care of yourself. No, S.H.I.E.L.D. sent me here with two purposes in mind. First is to act as backup for you. No matter how skilled you are, you aren't invulnerable or immortal." Pepper was still reading the file, so she missed the brief flinch on Tony's face — but Iris didn't. She'd been counting on it, in fact. Then Tony met her gaze.

Gotcha! she thought.

Tony's flinch after her carefully chosen words told her that Fury was right in his suspicions. Tony's decision to look her in the eye would hopefully give her some details. Despite all of her power, Iris still considered herself shite at Legilimency and Occlumency.

A master Legilimens could slip into a person's mind, sift through their thoughts, and retreat with needed information without anyone being the wiser. Iris couldn't do that. With a light touch, Iris could skim the surface of a person's mind, which meant mostly getting a read on their emotions. That was useful for determining whether they were telling the truth or not, but an expert on reading a person's face could do the same.

Most of the time, if she was lucky, Iris could pick up words or ideas that had strong emotional resonance — except, of course, when the person was willing to open their mind to her. In those cases, Iris had an easier time getting all sorts of information, emotions, memories, and more. But those situations were rare.

With a strong push, Iris could rip apart a person's mind and tear out their deepest, darkest memories. It came with a lot of screaming, involuntary urination, and a high risk of leaving the subject in a permanent vegetative state. She had no idea what sort of state Stane was in and she didn't want to; she avoided reading that part of the case file.

Tony only warranted a light touch, giving Iris the emotions of... fear. Then there were some words: core... palladium... toxic... terminal, all of them connected to Tony's fear. Iris didn't have the whole story, but she now had more than enough to take back to Fury.

Since her Legilimency only required a couple of seconds, she could continue her explanation without missing a beat. "Second is to take advantage of any opportunities for more intelligence. If — and I stress the if — someone attacks you, I can focus on taking one or two of the assailants prisoner while you defend yourself. Those prisoners can be interrogated and will hopefully provide us with enough intel to prevent future attacks."

"So Fury isn't sending you to act as a babysitter for me?" Tony asked in a suspicious tone. "You aren't going to be trying to tell me what to do, where to go, that sort of thing?"

"Absolutely not," Iris tried to reassure him. "I'd of course ask that you try to make it easier for me to stay relatively close to you, and I realize that that might require some adjustments in how you do things, but otherwise no significant changes in how you live or work. Do what you normally do, and I'll stay as far in the background as you want."

"You know, Tony, you never got another personal secretary after me," Pepper said, looking back and forth between them. "If you let Iris take that as a cover for her work, she'll have the perfect excuse to stay close to you, even at odd hours, and most people won't give her a second glance."

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "I take it you have skills beyond the magic, right?" he asked.

"Well," she began, "magic has greatly enhanced my strength, speed, agility, reflexes, and senses. I don't have to use active magic for that. I'm an expert in several different types of martial arts, including karate, judo, aikido, ninjutsu, and muay thai. I'm an expert marksman and am fluent in several languages, including Russian, English, German, French, Chinese, and Japanese."

Pepper looked up and seemed impressed at that litany of skills. "Wow," she said, "It must have been hard to learn so many things since magical school."

Iris shrugged and said, "Not as hard as you might think. I just had to apply myself." And use extensive Legilimency on willing partners who could provide me with the necessary foundations, she added silently to herself.

"And this wouldn't even be my first time going undercover as a secretary or PA, so I know the basic skills for those jobs, too," Iris added.

"For how long do you expect this to go on?" Tony was looking a bit more relaxed now.

"Honestly, I wasn't given any sort of timeline," Iris admitted with a shrug. "I wouldn't expect it to last too long because there are always other missions they could be sending me on. I don't intend to become a permanent or even semi-permanent shadow or house guest, if that's what concerns you."

Tony nodded thoughtfully, then finally said, "OK, I guess we can try this out. I may end up working more closely with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the future, so this might prove useful. When did you want to start? Now?"

Smiling, Iris responded, "Now would be good, though it might be nice if I could have a quick visit with Hermione first? Pepper mentioned that she's working on something elsewhere? I'll also need to find someplace to live." Iris stared right into Tony's eyes while she said this, picking up on fear again plus the words: toxic... cure... magic... home.

Bingo! she thought to herself. He's hoping that Hermione might be able to find a cure with magic. And is she working at home? Or maybe his home?

"I... don't know," Tony said slowly. It was clear to Iris that he was trying to come up with a plausible reason for why the two witches couldn't meet — or at least for why Iris couldn't go to her. She's probably working out of his home, Iris concluded. That will have better equipment, he can keep it quiet there, and he can be involved more.

"Tony," Pepper spoke up with a disappointed tone in her voice. "It's been months since they've seen each other. Are you saying that Hermione can't afford a few hours break?" The near-pout she was giving Tony was priceless. The fact that it worked was even better.

Sighing, Tony chose to give in rather than argue with the growing number of women who seemed to be invading his life. "Alright, alright," he said, putting up his hands in surrender. "I'll call Hermione and... have her meet you. Somewhere. Here? No, here is boring. I know! I'll get you two reservations at this great restaurant I heard about the other day. Have an early dinner, spend the rest of the day, evening, night, whatever, catching up. Or doing, you know, whatever. You and I can start this 'thing' tomorrow morning."

And then Tony was out of his chair like a shot, talking on the phone about reservations someplace... French, maybe. Iris couldn't tell, he was talking too fast. Before she knew it, he had the box he was packing and was gone, leaving her and Pepper alone in his office.

"Is he always like this?" Iris asked.

"Not really," Pepper said. Iris could hear the sadness and worry in her voice. "He's changed over the last three months or so, I guess. I don't understand what's going on, and he won't confide in me."

Iris reached out and squeezed Pepper's shoulder in a gesture of support and understanding. She knew more than Pepper did now, and it was enough to know that Pepper was right to be worried.

Now, Iris thought to herself, I have to figure out where I'm supposed to go for this early dinner. And what am I supposed to wear?

Moscow, Russia.

Ivan Vanko sat heavily in a dirty, tattered chair in his tiny apartment. Opening the envelope he had been given by the anonymous courier earlier that day, he looked through the contents: money, a false passport, and train tickets that would take him from Moscow to Monaco. A plane would be faster and probably more comfortable, he lamented, but I'd never be able to get all of my equipment past airport security. On the trains, though, security is a joke — just so long as this passport holds up, no one will stop me.

He quickly counted the small stack of bills; it wasn't much, but then he'd been living on far less for many years now. He'd be able to make do, and it only needed to last him until he reached his destination. Once he'd achieved his goal in Monaco next month, it wouldn't matter.

Vanko lit a cheap cigarette, took a deep drag on it, and leaned back in the chair. Soon, he thought. Soon, justice will be done. The world will see that that thief, Stark, is just a man. The world will understand that all men are vulnerable and that the sins of the past catch up to us all, no matter how rich or powerful a person may become. I may not be able to bring my father back or claim the fortune that should have been ours, but I will at least be able to ensure that Stark can't continue to enjoy his ill-gotten gains. I won't even need to kill him to do this — I simply need to show everyone how weak and vulnerable he is!

Looking back in the envelope, Vanko wondered about the secretive organization that was providing him with the means to extract his vengeance. He found it curious that they hadn't asked for anything in return; once the word had spread in the Russian underworld that Ivan Vanko was looking to get revenge against Tony Stark, he suddenly found that he had all sorts of friends he hadn't known existed.

No, he chided himself, not friends. None of them are my friends, especially not these "Ten Rings" people who gave me this. The enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend. They are merely an ally of convenience — an ally who will turn on me at a moment's notice, if it suits them. Ivan didn't know or trust these people, but he'd take their money and documents if it helped him achieve his goals. He didn't know what their objectives were and he didn't care, at least not so far.

"Bah!" he said aloud in the empty apartment, taking another drag on his cigarette and letting the harsh tobacco burn his throat. "Friends. Enemies. Allies. It doesn't matter. Next month, it will all be over."

A noise to his left startled him, and his cockatoo, Gosha, few to his shoulder. Reaching up to scratch her, he realized that he hadn't made any arrangements for someone to take care of her. He'd have to talk to the babushka who lived upstairs. She was an annoying, nosey sort, like they all were, but she had a son-in-law who was young and good with animals.

Tony Stark's Home, Malibu, California.

Walking into his kitchen to get a drink, preferably something strong, Tony thought back to the meeting he had earlier that day with Iris Potter. He hadn't gotten a chance to spend much time with her since he had hosted that wake for her — well, for her previous identity, Natasha Romanoff — and now he was regretting it. He didn't know her well enough to read her, and since she was a professional spy, he was sure that she must be harder to read than most. That put him at a disadvantage.

Is the terrorist threat real? he asked himself. Probably, but that's nothing new. I received regular threats even before becoming Iron Man, and now they're coming in almost daily. So that doesn't mean anything.

What other reasons might she have to be here, if the threat is fake or just trivial? He pondered that for a few minutes while swirling his drink in his glass. Maybe she's only here to spend time with Hermione?

He rejected that possibility almost immediately. He was sure she'd use her time out here to do that, but he was also certain that wasn't her ulterior motive. She had to have been sent out here by Fury, and he isn't a matchmaker. Or is he? Tony reconsidered. They did offer her a job at S.H.I.E.L.D., and she was more interested after the memorial service. Is Fury stepping up his efforts to get her away from me? He wouldn't put it past Fury to use the tentative relationship between Iris and Hermione to get the latter to sign up.

But it still seems like an awful lot of effort — assigning an important asset like Iris to spend so much time with me, just to get a few minutes here and there to sell her on a job. No, Tony concluded, that might be something he hopes will happen, but it's not Fury's primary play.

Finishing his drink off in one gulp, Tony decided to set that question aside in order to focus on the main problem that had been taking up so much of his time over these past few months: the fact that the arc reactor in his chest, the device he'd so cleverly created to save his life, was now slowly killing him.