Alice, it's the MCU!

They’d all adjourned to Tony’s mansion. Pepper and Natalie stayed upstairs doing boring-ass PR damage control shit, while Tony brought Alice downstairs (where she was finally able to compose herself upon meeting some more cool-ass robots).

Tony sat in one of his classic cars as a holographic display flickered through information faster than he could follow. Alice had finally joined him, sitting behind him on the trunk, watching the data unfurl before them. Finally, JARVIS spoke. “Query complete, sir. Anton Vanko was a Soviet physicist who defected to the United States in 1963. However, he was accused of espionage and was deported in 1967. His son Ivan, who is also a physicist —”

“Oh shit, he died?” Alice said, seeing the newspaper headline ‘Ivan Vanko Dies in Prison Escape Attempt’ flash across the display.

“Questions can wait until after the lecture, thanks,” Tony chided.

“…as I was saying… Ivan was convicted of selling Soviet-era weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan, and served 15 years in Seventh Circle Prison. No further records exist.”

The door opened, and in walked Don Cheadle. “I loved you in Ocean’s 11!” Alice called out to him.

The newcomer was taken off guard. “Ignore her, Rhodey,” Tony said. “She’s got that face blindness thing, except she sees a celebrity instead of your actual face.”

“…Is he for real?” Rhodey asked Alice.

Alice wiggled her hand back and forth — who knows, it said. “It’s one possible theory,” she admitted.

Rhodey took a second to process that before remembering he had bigger fish to fry and tore his attention away from her. “Tony, you’ve gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now,” Rhodey told him. “Listen, I’ve been on the phone with the National Guard all day, trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the PCH, knocking down your front door, and taking these,” he said, gesturing to the suits.

“Doesn’t that violate posse comitatus, illegal search and seizure, and probably a shitload more laws?” Alice asked. “Also, not sure why they’re attacking Publisher’s Clearinghouse.”

“I’m sorry, who the hell is this?” Rhodey asked.

“Rhodey, Alice. Alice, Rhodey,” Tony introduced. “She’s Surge Protector, in case you haven’t been watching the news.”

“Watching the… They’re gonna take your suits, Tony, okay? They don’t really give a damn about the finer points of the law at this point!” he added, glancing Alice’s way. “They’re sick of the games. You said nobody else would possess this technology for 20 years. Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday. It’s not theoretical anymore.” Rhodey had been marching back and forth across the room and now got close enough to Tony to see how miserable he looked. “Are you listening to me?” he asked, more gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s go,” Tony said quietly. He got out of the car and gasped as he almost lost his footing.

“Hey man,” Rhodey said, concerned. “Hey, hey!” He looked up to Alice, who was watching with concern but otherwise still perched on the hood of the car. “What, you’re not gonna help?”

“Mr. Stark only pays me to manage the trifling bullshit that he doesn’t want to do himself,” Alice said. “This… is a bit above my pay grade, and while we haven’t talked about it, I’m pretty sure Tony would rather handle it by himself, more or less.”

“Good girl,” Tony muttered. “You’re getting a raise.”

Rhodey finally got Tony to his feet. “You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I should get to my desk,” Tony said. Together they made it over to Tony’s desk. “See that cigar box?” Tony asked.

“Smoking’s bad for your health!” Alice jeered.

Tony shot a playful look of anger her way. “It’s palladium.” Rhodey opened it as Alice finally dismounted the car and approached, watching things unfold. Tony extracted the arc reactor from his chest and toggled a minuscule switch, ejecting the palladium core from within.

“Is that supposed to be smoking?” Rhodey asked, voice full of dread.

“What did I just say?” Alice interjected, with a sing-song know-it-all tone.

The two men shot glares her way. “If you must know, it’s neutron damage,” Tony informed him. “It’s from the reactor wall.”

Rhodey removed the charred bar of palladium and gave it a look of distaste. “You had this in your body?” Tony ignored him and turned back to the supply of palladium in order to reload the arc reactor. “And how about that high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?”

“Road rash,” Tony blithely explained. He took the arc reactor back and slotted it into his chest again. “Thank you.” He slapped it twice to make sure it was locked in, before opening up a thermos full of that foul smoothie mix. “What are you lookin’ at?” he tossed over his shoulder before taking a drink.

“I’m looking at you,” Rhodey said. “You wanna do this whole lone gunslinger act and it’s unnecessary.”

“Hey, I have her,” Tony gestured to Alice. “The sidekick.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, damnit!” Rhodey snapped. He tried to bring himself to speak his concerns regarding Tony’s health aloud, but couldn’t do it. “…You don’t have to do this alone.”

“You know, I wish I could believe that,” Tony countered, sounding bitter. “I really do. But you’ve gotta trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Rhodey snorted, doubtful. “I hope so, Tony. I really, really do.” He began walking back to the exit, but gestured for Alice to follow him. Once outside the house (and away from JARVIS’ ears), he finally turned to her. “So, we both know what’s wrong with him, right?”

Alice nodded. “Palladium poisoning.”

Rhodey let out a breath, glad that she was onboard with that much at least. “After I found out Tony was Iron Man, I started doing a little digging, and after a month or two I turned up a report on how goddamn toxic palladium can be under certain conditions — which Tony managed to hit every checkmark of. I tried telling him about it a few times, but he always blew me off.” He shook his head. “Don’t know if it’s because he thought he was invincible, or if he just didn’t want to live his life plugged into a wall or something.”

“Probably both,” Alice ventured.

“Yeah, probably,” Rhodey nodded. “So… Surge Protector, huh?”

“Yeah,” Alice said, grinning. “It’s pretty cool stuff, right?”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to come down to the base and answer a few questions about how you got your powers?” Rhodey asked. Alice, still grinning, shook her head no. “Well, I had to ask, you know?”

“I know,” Alice said. “No hard feelings.”

Rhodey looked at her a moment, mulling over asking her one last thing, before he finally bit: “…Okay, I’ve gotta ask: do I really look like Sammy Davis Jr.?” he asked.

“Huh?” Alice said, confused.

“You said you loved me in Ocean’s 11,” Rhodey reminded her.

“Oh yeah!” Alice said. “No, you look like Don Cheadle. Volcano? Mission to Mars? No?”

Rhodey shook his head. “Nah, I just don’t see it.”

He went to get back in his car but Alice stopped him. “Wait, Mister… uh, Colonel? I think?”

“Lieutenant colonel, actually, but you can just call me Rhodey,” Rhodey explained.

“Is this a thing like with Pepper where Tony just bulldozed his own name over yours?” Alice asked.

Rhodey smirked. “Something like that, yeah. What’s up?”

Alice bit her lip. “I saw that Vanko died in prison.”

Rhodey nodded. “Yeah, I saw that too. Good riddance.”

“Here’s the thing, though: I have… doubts.” Alice grimaced.

Rhodey looked troubled at the idea. “What, like he’s still alive?” Alice nodded. “What makes you say that?”

Alice bit her lip, then went ahead and tore off the metaphorical band-aid. “He looks like Mickey Rourke.”

Rhodey stared at her for so long Alice was afraid that he’d had a stroke or something. Finally, he said, “I’m gonna need something a little more concrete than that.”

Alice frowned. “Look, this guy reveals to the world that he not only has an arc reactor, but knows how to make them? You’re telling me you didn’t stop to think how odd it was he spent, what, less than 24 hours in that jail cell before he quote-unquote died? I’ll bet you a thousand bucks he’s in some secret R&D lab in Russia or China or something.”

Now that sent the fear of God running all up and down Rhodey’s spine. “I’ll make some phone calls,” he said.

***

It was the night of Tony’s birthday party, and Alice was helping him pick out an outfit. “Here are your watches,” she said. “I wouldn’t bother with them, though — wearing the Iron Man suit would be cool as shit.”

“You think?” Tony asked.

“Yeah… but go retro. Do the Mark I.” Alice smirked.

Tony returned the smile for a moment. “Tempting…” His face fell as he looked at the mirror once more. “I should cancel the party, huh?” he said.

“Why?” Alice asked, confused.

“Because it’s, um…” Tony snapped his fingers, trying to think of the right word to use. “Well, it sends the wrong message,” he finally settled on. “Didn’t I ask you to make me a martini?”

“Tony, if you’re an inch away from the finish line, I’m not gonna help give you that final push,” Alice said flippantly, finally addressing his looming mortality.

Tony didn’t respond, walking past her to the cocktail mixer. “You know, most people would be… uh… more concerned if their boss… slash superhero mentor… slash friend… were dying,” he pointed out, as he poured himself a glass. “What gives?”

“Aww, we’re friends?!” Alice gushed, making Tony roll his eyes playfully. “Well, if this really is a world that runs on bullshit comic book laws, then something will probably happen at the eleventh hour to save your ass,” Alice pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said, skeptical.

“And if not… well, you’re deliberately shutting out your friends and loved ones, which is kind of a dick move,” Alice pointed out. “Not exactly engendering positive feelings in me for you, presently.”

“Hey, I tried telling Pep,” Tony said. “I said we should go to Venice. I said it was a great place to be healthy. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Did you try saying the actual words, ‘Pepper, I am dying of heavy metal poisoning and want to spend my last days on Earth with you, the woman I love above all else’?” Alice asked.

Tony opened his mouth. “…Okay, maybe I might have had more luck with that one,” he admitted. “But she shut me out, thinks because she’s the CEO she’s gotta be all responsible —”

“Tony, from what I’ve heard of her life as your assistant, she actually has less responsibility now,” Alice pointed out. “It’s probably the most relaxing time of her life.”

Tony sat down, glum. “If this was your last birthday party you were ever gonna have, how would you celebrate it?” he asked.

“…I don’t have a birthday,” Alice pointed out. “I’m a clone. And besides which, I’m 10 years old, so I guess the traditional birthday party for someone in my age bracket is something like Chuck E. Cheese, where I go hog fucking wild with all the games, attempt to eat my body weight in pizza, and then tear open my presents.” She thought for a few moments. “A bunch of Legos would be cool.”

“That’s cute,” Tony said. “But what would you want for your actual birthday?”

“My friends. I’d like to remember my friends, and be able to see them and hang out with them again. My wife.” Surprise showed itself on Tony’s face. “Oh, I guess I never told you I was married, huh?” Tears began to well up in her eyes. “So yeah, Mr. Stark, that’s my idea of a perfect birthday. Spending it with all my most precious loved ones, then going home and fucking the shit out of my beloved wife, who I don’t have a single goddamn memory of.” She turned and fled his room before he could respond, before she broke into another bout of ugly crying in front of him.

***

Alice got herself composed by the time the party was in full swing. A number of the revelers recognized her and wanted selfies, to which she graciously acquiesced, but always reminded them that it was Tony’s day, and she really was just there in her capacity as his assistant. She saw with mild amusement that Tony had taken her advice — wearing the latest model of his suit, though, not the Mark 1, alas. She was less impressed with how heavily he chose to drink, though, especially when his drunkenness began to lead to stumbling, and he careened into his liquor shelf, breaking several bottles with the impact. Geez, Tony, if you fall on someone, you’ll break all their bones, Alice mentally grimaced.

Tony finished a delightful anecdote regarding basting in his own juices when Pepper finally climbed onstage next to him, Alice prayed in order to talk him down. “Does this guy know how to throw a party or what?” Pepper said, plucking the microphone from his grasp. The audience cheered.

“I love you,” Tony said, leaning too close into the microphone. Probably the most genuine statement Alice had ever heard out of his mouth.

“Unbelievable!” Pepper said, also 100% genuine, a phony grin plastered on her face. “Thank you so much, Tony, we all thank you so much for such a… wonderful night. And we’re gonna say goodnight now, and thank you all for coming —”

The guests all began awwing in disappointment.

“No, no, no, we can’t!” Tony protested, before Pepper lowered the mic and his protests became inaudible. After a few minutes (and an almost kiss), Pepper handed the mic back. “Pepper Potts,” Tony said, drawing a few claps. “She’s right, the party’s over… then again, the party was over for me, like, an hour and a half ago. The after-party starts in 15 minutes!” And the crowd went nuts.

Alice jogged forward and snatched the mic. “And the only way to be admitted to this party is to be just like Tony!” she shouted into it, to more cheers and applause. “Piss your fucking pants!”

Well. That sure was a conversation stopper.

Tony yanked the mic back from her and gave her a hard shove (and hey, Alice could take it, no big, not like she was a glass flower or anything, compared to everyone else here). “That is… of course… a big joke. Amirite?” There was some nervous laughter scattered throughout the room. “Seriously, please do not go to the bathroom on the floor of my house. If you need a potty break, you can go use the toilet, which is over there —” Tony gestured, which accidentally fired off the repulsor in that arm, shattering the glass wall lining his staircase. And the crowd went even more nuts. “Yeahhhhh!” Tony bellowed.

One of the revelers tossed a bottle up into the air, and Tony just straight up blasted it above everyone’s heads. “Oh, that’s GREAT!” Alice shouted. “Everyone’s favorite party game, High Speed Broken Glass! Ten points if you get some lodged in your eye and you go fucking blind!” None of the revelers were paying any attention to her anymore. Across the room she saw Rhodey looking furious before ducking away, and hoped it was some super-powered ass-beating time.

That meant, though, this place was about to become a bit dangerous. (Well, a bit more dangerous). She grabbed Pepper, whispered a few quick instructions to her, then they travelled to the periphery of the party and began pulling people away in ones and twos, telling them that the police had been called, that there’d been reports of some highly controlled substances, that they needed to leave now if they didn’t want to be arrested and have the book thrown at them.

They’d managed to pare a fair few folks away by the time Rhodey showed up in the Mark II. “I’m only gonna say this once!” he shouted. “Get out.” And that wrapped up most of the rest of the work, people eagerly fleeing the party as repulsor fire repeatedly punctuated Another One Bites The Dust.