Hell hath no Fur(r)y
Tony spent the next few months, since, you know, he was not busy dying, consolidating his position.
First, the Armed forces: He did make War Machine (with added fail safes. He couldn't protect his platypus 100%, but he was gonna try his best) as a prototype for the Air Force.
As he'd suspected would happen, the Pentagon first enthusiasm was severely tempered when they had access to projected costs, not only for purchase, but also for maintenance. Not to mention that any suit had to be tailor made for the wearer.
The armed forces are all for tech, but it needs to be exploitable on a large scale. One of anything is not enough. Also, the Pentagon has money coming up the wazoo, but there's still a limit to everything.
To sweeten that disappointment, Tony came with multiple consolation prizes, all derived from Iron Man tech: The arc reactor clean energy (like last time) but also improved HUDs for pilots (with a tank version so the Army wouldn't get jealous of Air Force toys... Yes, Navy too, stop bickering!), the body armors Tony had developed for the Morons and that would be much more useful on a regular soldier. And, since it had already been build, War Machine stayed on loan with the Air Force.
And then there was SI Medical, starting with prosthetic, but to expand soon, with the recruitment of Drs Shoo and Hansen (the first one topping the second, who was brilliant, sure, but with a slightly iffy moral compass. Tony had decided that the easiest way out of that clusterfuck was to throw money at the problem: With the contract and facilities she had, Hansen would have been crazy to work for Killian... And she hadn't been crazy, but desperate.)
The prosthetic department creation, complete with a 100% free of charge policy for veterans, brought a beaming President Ellis to the inauguration. Not that Tony was surprised: He'd recruited quite a few of those vets to work and with and test run what his engineers came up with from the initial blueprints, and it made for a nice campaign ad.
Ellis, as Pepper, were a bit baffled about Tony's choice of a small town in Tennessee to create the facility, but the locals sure appreciated the change from chicken mills.
Tony had his picture taken with just about everyone in town... Including a young boy with a potato gun he sure knew how to use (Yes, Iron Man played tag with Harley... So what?)
SI was growing by leaps and bounds. Pepper, or course, was as brilliant a CEO as last time, no surprises there. But even she had problems with the workload, though, so Tony put FRIDAY on line a bit early. The both of them made a killer team, and the board was too anesthetized by stratospheric profits to utter a peep.
All in all, it looked like a good year.
Not that all was kittens and roses, though: Senator Stern did try for a hearing, pushed by SHIELDRA and Hammer (nicer bedfellows the world had never seen...).
It didn't get very far: From the Pentagon to the Coast Guards, just about everyone was benefiting from SI tech, and if they weren't, they sure dreamed of it. No one wanted to get themselves on SI's bad side.
You don't fuck with Santa before Christmas.
So the case just puttered off after the preliminary hearing. Tony had the delightful surprise to see that just about the only high ranking military was General Ross. He must have been there last time too, but lost in the general military uproar, so he hadn't noticed.
He could get the reason: As Tony well knew, the suits were one of the few things that could keep up with the Hulk, so of course Ross wanted one, now that Brucie bear was online, so to speak.
Just, associating himself with HYDRA that way, even unknowingly, was going to be a shit stain in the future for Ross. Good.
Speaking of shit stains and pain in the ass... SHIELD.
Oh, it was around. Tony had no intentions to completely change the timeline. He couldn't, really, at any rate. Yes, he was rich, influential, powerful... But he was a lone man. In fact, this little trip in the past had the added benefit of absolving him from a lot of guilt.
He could do everything differently, but he couldn't change what other people had decided to do.
Case in point: Fury.
Arguably the most stubborn, and certainly the smelliest, Director of SHIELD.
Goose had really liked the idea, so she ran with it... In fact, the Flerken had decided Fury's boots were her new litter box, and good luck in getting anything out of the reach of a portal travelling cat. Fury was trying hard, but unfortunately for him, she now saw that as both a game and a challenge on her abilities and was not letting go. As far as Tony could tell (and sometimes smell!), she got him at least thrice a week.
Between that and JARVIS and FRIDAY looking for, and finding, the hundreds of small ways SHIELD had been bleeding SI, and Tony personally, dry (Including a lifetime pension for a Stephen Grant put in place by one Peggy Carter for "services rendered" whatever that meant. Not that he was surprised, but really, was there a moment when Captain Douche WASN'T mooching off him?), and closing them off, the Director was like a badger with a sore paw.
And just about as odoriferous.
But a severely curtailed one. For the first time in years, SHIELD was having to do with a diminishing budget. It had skimmed for years by taking smallish percentages all over the place, but those were getting cut off, and they couldn't really do much about it while the FBI, CIA... and IRS were still nosing around.
Fury was just counting his luck that Stark hadn't yet found their main source, aka what Carter had put in place behind Howard's back in the forties.
In which Pooboots was sadly mistaken. Tony knew about it, he just wasn't pushing it.
Yet.
After all, he needed SHIELD, and possibly, the Avengers, to deal with the Chitauri invasion. At this time, it was a necessary evil. The IRS and the alphabet soup were chipping at it slowly but surely, though.
And what a pee smelling SHIELD director faced with budget cuts does?
Well, he's not getting creative, for sure. First, there was the blackmail with Howard's research, and the fake solicitude with his health... Must have been his best card, since he looked like he'd sucked on a lemon when Tony opened his collar to show perfectly healthy skin. The subsequent lawsuit prompted the Agent home invasion... With assorted threats. Agent Agent was still a shitty houseguest, no matter the timeline.
And then Goose decided to pick a side.
The Flerken usually made herself scarce when Fury showed up, unannounced and uninvited (but not as discreet as he thought), but this time, as soon as Tony went to his lab on *house arrest*, she took action.
2010 Tony would probably have freaked out on witnessing what was happening in his living room, but post Siberia Tony with knowledge of Thanos could appreciate a top notch tentacles game when he saw it.
Jarvis was a bit more dubious.
"Are you certain we want the creature in house, Sir?" The AI inquired. Tony nodded vigorously.
"Certain. Especially now she's decided to kick agent Agent's ass."
"Is the cat... eating them?"
Tony looked on as Goose did her thing and disappeared from the room, to re-appear moments later. She sneezed a couple of times and expelled what could only be a regulation handgun.
"I don't think so, but we should know in 3... 2 ... 1..."
"Sir, Director Fury on the line."
"Oh, this his going to be fun... What can I do for you, Nicky?"
"STARK! What the Hell have you done with my Flerken and why did she just vomit Coulson and my other agents on my desk?!!!"
"That's the weirdest excuse for breaking and entering I've ever heard, and I'm sure the judge will agree with me. And what's a Flerken?" Tony answered lightly.
"The cat. Goose."
"Yes, what about her?" Said Goose entered the lab, climbed on the for once empty workbench and began a thorough tongue bath.
"Where did you get the cat, Stark?" Fury hissed, and Tony shrugged.
"She's been wandering in and out of the house for some time now. She has a nametag but no chip, and no one in the neighborhood claimed her, so she's probably gonna stay. She's a cute kitty, DUM-E likes her a lot. Why?"
"That's not a cat, Stark. That's a Flerken, and she's VERY dangerous. And she's mine." Fury growled. Tony gave in the laughter and turned the phone toward Goose, who, with impeccable timing, did the classic *hind leg up the air while I lick my butt* pose.
"Goose dear? The bad man says he owns you. What do you answer to that?"
Goose raised her head, looked straight at the screen and hissed, showing teeth and all. Tony would have thought twice about coming near the Flerken when she was in that mood, and, from the audible gulp, so did Fury.
"Right. So, either she's a cute kitty and you're batshit crazy... Or she's as dangerous as you say and doesn't seem to like you very much. Either way, I think Goose is gonna stay here as long as she wants. Oh, and you can be sure I will report Agent & entourage unwelcome visit and assorted threats to the FBI, Nick."
"Fuck you, Stark" And Fury cut the call.
"Well, that was quite satisfying. Thank you, Goose."
"Meow"
"Can I interest you in an assorted snack: Titanium, Adamantium and a bit of starkium for flavor?
"Meh."
"Copper gold munchies again?"
"Mwah!"
"Alright, but even if it keeps your fur a nice color, you should watch the gold intake, Goose. You're putting on a little weight." Tony said as he got the ore cabinet. Goose huffed disdainfully and gave him a playful swat. "And while you're having your snack, let me tell you about what's going to happen quite soon..."
The murderous furball kept her eyes on the munchies (that glutton liked a lot of gold in her copper), but the ears perked up. She was paying attention.