--

        "The pyroclastic lamination worked perfectly," he said, "but I
think we can do better on the recharge time for the knuckle bombers."
His eyes still on the holographic playback, he reached for his coffee,
but didn't find it.  Instead, his hand alighted on what felt like a
datapad.  Blinking, he turned his head and regarded it.
        It was indeed a datapad, and right now it was displaying the
front page of Knight Sabers OK!, one of the many fansites dedicated to
the city's mysterious armored mercenaries.  The front-page story today,
though, wasn't about them.  Instead, the page was dominated by a
brightly colored image of the Mark III Iron Man suit slugging it out
with last night's 55-series, streetlights glittering from both
combatants' armor plating, and the shouting headline, "WHO IS IRON
MAN??"
        "What is this?" Virginia "Pepper" Potts demanded.
        "Where is my coffee?" Stark responded.
        Pepper put her hands on her slim, business-skirted hips.
"-What- is -this,-" she repeated, pointing a finger at the headline.
        "My coffee was right there," Stark observed in a faint tone of
bewilderment, then looked up at her scowling face and said mildly, "That
is totally rude."
        "Rude?  You want to talk about rude?"  Pepper paced away from
him, gesturing to the slightly battered Mark III armor, which stood in a
test stand by the main shop's work table.  "You went public.  People
-saw- you.  In front of the building."
        Stark swiveled to face her.  "In my defense, evil robots were
trying to blow it up."
        Still on a bit of a roll, Pepper went on, "We agreed that you
wouldn't associate Iron Man with Stark International until Legal
finished researching the position."
        Stark raised an interjectory finger.  "-Unless- evil robots
tried to blow up the building in the meantime.  I was very specific
about that."  Pepper glared at him.  "In my head," he added.  Seeing
that she wasn't going to be put off that easily, he got to his feet and
walked toward her, hands spread in mild entreaty.  "Come on, Pep, it had
to be done."
        "You should have called me," she persisted.
        "At two in the morning?  C'mon."  Stark walked past her and
behind the suit, then leaned around it with his hand on one of its
shoulders and went on, "Odds are he's getting unveiled at IC2 anyway.
Also," he added with a faintly puzzled look, "how did you get down
here?"
        "JARVIS let me in."
        "JARVIS, you're fired."
        "Very good, sir," said JARVIS unflappably.
        "I'd forgotten how exasperating you can be," said Pepper,
smiling slightly in spite of herself.
        Stark crossed to the garage entrance.  "Well, that'll teach you
not to reorganize the whole company and move the corporate headquarters
into my house," he said offhandedly.
        Pepper couldn't contain a chuckle at that remark.  "True," she
conceded.
        "Have you had breakfast?" Stark asked, twirling his car keys
around his index finger.  "'Cause I haven't.  JARVIS, I'll have to take
you back on as a consultant at twice your old salary."
        "I don't get paid, sir."
        Stark nodded.  "Perfect.  That's settled, then."

--G.
-><-
Benjamin D. Hutchins, Co-Founder, Editor-in-Chief, & Forum Mod
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited http://www.eyrie-productions.com/
zgryphon at that email service Google has
Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam.