Flashback

Maria's POV

Sometimes Tony was too busy ogling women to wander away.

A proper gentleman's life is a bore,

So liven it up with a tipple or two.

Sometime Before Iron Man 1

Tony's POV

I'd been dupped. I glanced down at the invitation that had just got me through the door.

Save the Boobies and Titties!

Join us at 555 Meadowood Ln.

8:00 p.m.

I'd even bothered to be on time! 8:07 Nearly on time, anyway.

I glowered between the invite and the two draping banners, each containing the photo of an endangered bird. On the left, one of the blue footed boobie, and on the right, a photo of a nest of little brown birds, apparently called tits.

WTF!

Wasn't this supposed to be a breast cancer awareness thing, but one with a kick of a sense of humor?! Apparently, ornithologist liked puns. Who knew?

Why was I even being asked to donate? Sure, the ones with the Smurf feet were interesting to look at and might be worth saving, but the boring little brown ones? And why me?

My saving nature was limited to trying to lower S.I.'s carbon footprint, not helping out bird watchers.

I was ready to take a 180 back to the car when two appealing sights passed my eye: a lady with great boobies, and a tray of champagne flutes. Who wouldn't be all for a night of free drinks and flirting a pair of great tits into bed.

I made myself a goal: Flirt with every great pair of tits and breast at the fundraiser and the one who donates the most gets to take me home.

The foundation made more than they ever contemplated.

Flashback Excerpts

Maria's POV

One

I quickly realized Tony had too much energy to sit calmly and quietly at the socials.

Two

Sometimes Tony was too busy ogling women to wander away. But sometimes those made him wander too.

Three

He'd wandered off. Again. And per usual, he had gravitated toward the only available technology for him to investigate.

But a safe driver is a must,

If that's you…well, just be you.

Pepper's POV

Tony swiveled away from his computer and focused an intense look on me, "This one really is for funding breast cancer research, right? You aren't sending me off to rescue some rare squid or a newly discovered insect in the middle of a platinum mine, right? 'Cause alien squids are just going to have to fend for themselves amongst the ocean predators and I'm not ending mining on needed metals just to save a purple-footed cockroach."

I replied, "It really is for breast cancer research, and they really need you, Tony. You have a way of charming people out of their money and this research is important."

"What about men?'

"Hmm?"

"The prostate thing. Whatever is donated tonight, I'm making an equal donation to prostate cancer research. All sexual organs should receive equal protection. Plus, it gives us another tax deduction."

"If that's what you wish."

Miracle of all miracles, Tony had actually turned up at the fundraiser. Happy had bashfully asked for a night off to take a lady friend to the movies and dinner. I'd warned Tony that his driver/bodyguard was not available and informed him that I was making arrangements for a replacement for the evening. He'd just rolled his eyes and stated, "I own a fleet of cars. I do know how to drive them."

"I still don't think it's a good idea for you to be out in public without a bodyguard, Tony. Do you know how many threats are made against you?"

"I may know a lot, but I don't know everything, Ms. Potts. That's what employees are for. I hire the best and expect them to do their job. I trust them to do it. Which means I have no need to worry about such things."

"Yes, but the person paid to do that job won't be there tonight."

He smiled his charming smile, "The people running this shindig are looking to bilk me for more than my wallet holds and won't be looking to shoot a potential donor. I think I can manage one fundraiser."

"Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That'll be all, Ms. Potts."

And he'd actually made it. He hadn't gotten so lost in his tech that he'd forgotten to attend, or simply lost interest in following through with his obligations.

But he was still Tony. The first time he made to disappear I followed, then anxiously waited, outside a closed door, eventually allowing the blond to sneak out of the room, but urging Tony to stay for a moment so I could touch a bit of saliva to a tissue and wipe the remnants of lipstick from the edge of his mouth, like a momma cleaning up ice cream from a 4-year-old.

The next time he vanished I found him skimming, or exceedingly quickly reading a recent copy of The Farmer's Almanac.

"Pep, did you know that wheat grows best…"

After I got him to focus and stop rambling about modifying genes to increase crop yields, I asked, "Where did you even find this, Tony?" indicating the almanac in his hand.

"It's our host bathroom reading."

I cringed. When toilets are flushed, with the lid up, tiny poop and pee remnants are thrown into the air and cover counters, toothbrushes, and Farmers Almanacs left as reading materials. "Please go wash your hands before returning to the party."

"Yes, ma'am."

Later…

I spied him for a moment, from a distance, and thought he'd returned to the party, but after a third person asked for him I decided to go searching.

He was alone in a room, sitting at a table with the top to a DVD player removed and the miniature screwdriver he habitually carried in his pocket sitting on the table by his elbow. I looked around, hoping no one else had noticed and whispered, "Tony, what are you doing?!"

"It was noisy. It hums even when a disc isn't playing."

"You can't go around taking apart other people's tech." He looked at me like I was speaking one of the foreign languages he hasn't learned yet, then went back to adjusting wires and tightening screws. "Please hurry." I turned and smiled and tried to block the table with my body and purse as best I could. A minute later I heard the clank of the top being put back in place. Thankfully, he'd finished and managed to put it back in place and plugged it in before anyone thought to enter the room.

"All done, Ms. Potts."

"What has gotten into you? You're normally smack dab in the middle of the party. You're supposed to be helping schmooze the guest for donations."

He nibbled at his lip for a moment then mumbled, "No alcohol."

"What was that?"

"No alcohol." He said clearer. "I'm my own designated driver tonight, so I can't drink."

"That's why you get drunk at these things? So you don't get distracted?"

"They're boring, Pep."

"Next time I'm getting you a driver. Not that I want you drunk. But you're all over the place, Tony. Have you looked into Ritalin?"

"And stifle this genius," he scoffed.

As though alcohol didn't stifle him. Not so much that it prevented him from hitting deadlines or giving dissertations, but certainly not at the top game he was capable of when sober. But a sober Tony apparently didn't give a crap about charming guest into donating funds, which was the main purpose of Tony being at the party, rather than the company simply cutting the foundation a check.

Flashback…

"Do you think Artemis would listen?"

"Let's give it a try."

Father and son blew out the candle together, wishing for the safe return of the long-lost soldier.

Celebrate today,

Wish for the future.

Adult Tony's POV, Morgan, Age 3

Homelessness wasn't an issue. Thanos had solved that issue. He'd fucked up the supply lines and dusted farmers, you know, those people that grow the food, so the rest of us don't have to. So the starving thing, that was an issue for a time. But the world had settled into a semi-functional day to day, with the same conflicts as before, just with less people to angst about them.

S.I. had done its part to get the gears of society rolling again.

And Pep and I settled into the backwoods-cabin life, with our little bundle of joy, who was currently slipping through the door to my lab.

"Daddy! The cake's ready!"

"Cake, what cake?"

"For my birthday, silly!"

"Is that today? I could have sworn we had a party last Saturday with balloons, and strewn confetti, lots of short people spilling drinks, the whole shebang."

Morgan bounced on her toes, "I was still 2 then, Daddy! Mommy said parties with friends are for weekends, but the real day of a birthday should be honored with cake too, so we made one! Come see!"

She grabbed my hand and started to tug.

"Hold up, pumpkin. I've got to shut things down. You wouldn't want Daddy to accidentally bring one of his experiments to life and have it decide to save the Earth by killing everyone who littered or used gas powered engines."

"You're silly Daddy! That would never happen."

Already did, kiddo. Best not let it happen again. "T.A.S.H.I.D.A., initiate Crickets Protocol."

"Of course, Sir."

The Crickets Protocol closes out all of my projects and causes T.A.S.H.I.D.A. to go into standby. The only A.I.s I let run full time are D.U.M.-E., You and Butterfingers. I can't imagine any of them turning Dr. Hyde. It wasn't in their nature.

I followed the hand tugging me along to the kitchen.

"See, Daddy!" Morgan excitedly pointed at the round, double layer cake, with pink and purple frosting and an ungodly amount of shiny sprinkles.

"It's beautiful. Almost as pretty as you and my gorgeous wife."

"Daddy!" Morgan really had the exasperated voice down pat, copied from her mother.

I suggested, "Let's slice it up and eat it."

Morgan shook her head no and insisted, "We've got to do candles and wishes first. Dad, why do we do that?"

"Do what?"

"Blow out candles and make wishes. Who are we wishing to?"

"Artemis." Huh. Where did that answer come from? Gods and goddess of any sort, not really my thing.

Then I had just a brief flash of a memory of Dad leaning over a cake with me, blowing out candles. What the hell!? Dad didn't exactly make a habit of been an engaged parent, and was more like a background presences on the birthday's he was around for.

From whichever bizarre and early, early birthday it was from, my brain snatched up the rest of the data that had apparently resided in the background of my memories, "Artemis is the Greek goddess of the hunt. She, and her army of female soldiers hunted by moonlight. Cakes are round to represent the moon. The candles light it, like the Sun's light reflects off the actual moon, and when you blow out the candles it sends up the smoke and wishes to Artemis, to see if she's in the mood to grant them."

"Is she real, Daddy?"

I shrugged. "A few decades ago I would have called her a mythological being, but Thor's real. Loki's real. Even Odin. If the Norse gods are just a bunch of mega space aliens, who's to say that the Greek pantheon isn't out there, roaming the universe. Should we try a wish and see what happens?"

"Yes!"

Pep lit the candles. We sang the traditional birthday ditty. Morgan squeezed her eyes shut then blew 3 year-old spittle and germs across her sparkly cake, extinguishing the 3 lit flames.

Then we each dug into our own slice.