Sanctity Part II
by elfin


Sanctity - the quality or condition of being safe from assault, trespass, or violation


Despite the conversation ending in a begrudging draw, Tony left Fury's office with anger still simmering in his gut.  Something about the guy rubbed him up the wrong way.  He tried never to judge anyone on first impressions, he tried never to judge most people at all, it was bad for business, but Fury had broken into his house somehow that first night, wiping out with one careless act that illusion of safety and sanctity he'd once again attached - so mistakenly - to his own home.  And it had royally pissed him off.  First Obadiah then Fury.  He'd beefed up security, of course he had.  He'd extended Jarvis' reach to the outer perimeter of the grounds, the front gates, the cameras monitoring the drive, added a sound cancellation routine, just in case anyone else got hold of one of those gruesome gadgets Obadiah had used to take him out.  No one got in without several forms of identification, all of them taken without the visitor ever knowing he or she had been checked out.

Still, he was so fucking far from feeling safe and secure he'd installed extra measures in his workshop / garage, bedroom, en suite, lounge and office.  The kitchen had escaped untouched due to the large number of incredibly sharp knives that would be at his fingertips if anyone tried anything.  He'd imagined that being Iron Man would give him not just a sense of purpose but a sense of bravado, and escaping the cave had done both.  But Yinsen had died and he'd been hurt.  He kept getting hurt.  Iron Man he might be, but immortal he wasn't.

"Hey, Glow Worm."

Tony let his eyes follow Logan along the corridor, head turning as he strolled arrogantly passed.  So far he'd refused to even shake hands with the guy but there was definitely a spark between them and despite himself he was curious.  It didn't mean he had to take any crap.

"Listen, Wolfman, you want to fight, let me get my armour and we'll fight."

Logan chuckled.  "That's right.  You need to get dressed up before taking me on."

"We don't all have the luxury of metal bones."

Heavy eyebrows lifted.  "You know, the last I heard you were lusting over my metal bones these days."

Tony smirked.  "In your wildest fantasies, James."

"You couldn't even begin to guess my wildest fantasies, Anthony."

"No?  How about I just start licking you and we go from there?"  Logan growled, low in his chest and Tony grinned.  "Down, boy.  Only kidding.  If you're here to see Fury, just a word of warning, he's in a foul mood."

#

Tony walked into his workshop and let the deceptive glass door close behind him, the lock automatically catching and activating.  Not even his own repulsors would break the replacement material, only two humans and one AI knew the code, and Jarvis was locked down tighter than the house.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Security report."

"No breaches."

"Any… additional information?  Changes, unexpected visitors?"

"No, Sir.  Were you expecting someone unexpected?"

He wasn't sure.  "Just checking.  Fury said he had a way of making me feel more secure."

"He's working miracles now, is he, Sir?"

"Fucking hilarious."  Tony dropped into his chair and swivelled back and forth a couple of times before planting his elbows on the desk and dropping his arms until his fingers hovered above the projected keyboard.  "Sorry."

"No apology is required."

"Yeah, it is.  You're my lifeline, my co-pilot; you don't deserve to be treated like that."

Silence dominated for a long few seconds.  "Thank you, Sir."

"We can dispense with the 'Sir', you know, Jarvis.  We could have dispensed with it a long time back."

"Maybe we could, Sir.  But it wouldn't feel right."

Tony smiled to himself.  "Okay.  Bring up the power stats for suit from the last mission, I want to see where the greatest energy drain is, try to lessen the usage of the couplings between the arc reactor and the armour."


He'd always buried himself in his obsessions; 'play hard, work hard' had been his simple and not-so original motto.  Now there was less time to play, and his indulgences veered more towards the culinary than the sexual.  During his time in hell the menu had been somewhat limited and his immediate demand for a cheeseburger and fries the moment he'd touched down on American soil hadn't been the end of his quickly escalating indulgences.

Twenty-eight day aged steak, thick-cut chips, a Diane sauce and a bottle of Brunello had been high on his list of meals to savour before Obadiah had brought his fragile world once again crashing down around him.  He was a chocolate aficionado and only the best would do.  Coffee too - ordering the green beans from a tiny farm on the Jamaican islands, roasting and grinding them himself.  The best wines, the best whiskies, the best of everything.  Iron Man or not, he wasn't going to deny himself the luxuries he'd been born in to, grown up taking for granted, although maybe that had changed.  The first night he'd spent back in his own bed he'd been reduced to silent, bone wracking tears simply due to the fresh, crisp coolness of the sheets, the lightweight security of the duck down comforter and the perfect submission of his pillows.

Twelve hours after calling up the power stats, Pepper put a mug of freshly roasted, freshly ground coffee and a fresh club sandwich with crispy lettuce, free-range chicken, organic bacon, expensive mayo and thick slices of buffalo tomato between two slices of fresh-from-the-bakers white bread.

"Bruce Wayne called to see if you wanted to do breakfast tomorrow."

Tony looked up at her, considered it for a second and scowled.  "Did not."

She held her expression for a moment before letting it melt into a smile.  "But that doesn't mean you don't have a reason to go to bed before dawn."

"It's still early…."

"It's one a.m., Tony."

He glanced at the clock high on the wall of the workshop.  "Right.  Like I said, still early."  He watched her turn and shake her head slightly as she left him to it.  She was spending a couple of nights a week staying at the house still, and that was okay because after he'd come back from Afghanistan she stayed every night for a month.  He doubted she'd ever get over it completely, just like he wouldn't, but she was working through it, something he definitely wasn't doing.  When she wasn't in the house it was quieter somehow, even though he never heard a peep out of her, and he had Jarvis play music or read him the weather reports and shipping forecasts for the whole of the US until he fell asleep.

He could ask her to stay every night, to move in to the house on a permanent basis (not like that).  But he didn't want to, partially because he wanted her to have a life of her own, and partly because he wasn't sure that one day he wouldn't be grateful again to have the place to himself.

"Goodnight, Tony," she threw back as she climbed the pushed open the door.

"Night, Pepper."

Tony ate the sandwich, drank the coffee, then poured himself a scotch and saved the calculations he'd done along with the changes he'd made to file, trusting Jarvis to back everything up to an off-site server out of state.  He kicked off his sneakers and crossed his ankles as he put his feet up on the desk so that the projection of the keyboard curved over his sock; U, J and N on one side, O, L and > on the other. 

Jarvis lowered the lights without being asked and put some music on; electric, classical, something Tony didn't even recognise.  His personal AI could get very obscure sometimes.  For a long time he sat in the peace and quiet of his workshop, listening to the music, letting his breathing slow, closing his eyes slowly.  If he fell asleep here so be it but there was such a comfortable bed upstairs if he could just bring himself to go up and collapse in it.

"You have new mail, Sir."  Jarvis' voice was quiet and he could have ignored it if he'd wanted.

"I'll deal with it in the morning."

"It's not exactly business."

Tony opened his eyes and blinked at the nearest computer screen.  "Reading my mail now?"

"Not exactly, Sir.  This one's from… an acquaintance."

"Yours or mine?"

"Both.  Maybe you remember the Knight Foundation charity ball last year?"

The Knight Foundation… oh.  How could he not?  He'd apparently ducked out of making a decision on attending for so long that Pepper had put him down as a 'yes' and committed him not only to attendance but to a sizeable donation once he was there.  So, black tie, black tux, dressed up and looking like a million dollars, he'd decided to make the most of a bad deal and had arrived in style in a three hundred thousand dollar Bentley.  Almost immediately he'd been distracted, not by some brunette or red head, but by two cars parked side by side close to the entrance of the Knight Foundation Manor where the gala was being held.  Black - no, more like colourless - sleek, no discernable make although one vaguely resembled an updated, upgraded Pontiac Trans Am.  Both looked like predators, primed and ready to strike, and he remembered staring at them for some time, hoping he could find the owners and wangle drives, before he was greeted and ushered into the entrance for the first of what turned out to be an unending fountain of good, expensive champagne and hideously dull conversation.

"The mail is from Kitt."

The cars weren't the only reason that night stuck in his mind.  Kitt was the other reason.  Blond, blue eyed, immaculately dressed, working the room like a pro, like he was born to do it.  Everyone seemed to know him and those few who didn't he introduced himself, made them feel like they did.  Including Tony.  He'd been utterly captivated, trying anything and everything to win himself the rest of the night upstairs with the stranger.  But nothing had worked and all Tony had managed to leave with at the end of the night had been the guy's name.  He'd never admitted his failure to anyone, not because he felt particularly ashamed about it, but because it was something he'd felt like keeping to himself, just for himself.  So how did Jarvis….

"How do you know about Kitt?"

"We've been in touch."

Tony swung his feet from the desk and sat up.  "What?"

"It's not what you think."

"You've been exchanging emails with a… a stranger?"  The sense of betrayal was almost overwhelming.  His own system had let an unknown influence touch him, someone they didn't know, someone who could have done untold damage….

"Not exactly an exchange of emails, Sir.  And there has never been a threat of a security breach."

"Then what?"

"Kitt is… he's more like me than you, Sir."

He started to think he should have gone to bed when Pepper had suggested it.  "What are you talking about?"

"Kitt isn't human, Sir.  He' an Artificial Intelligence."

Either he'd had too much coffee, too little scotch or his creation had suddenly developed a couple of bugs.  "Jarvis… are we talking about the same Kitt?  Blond hair, blue eyes," he held his hand out and up, "yay tall?"

"Yes, Sir.  He's an android."

"He's a bloody good one."  It was all he could think to say.  He'd been after fucking the guy… thing… no, definitely guy, all that night.  At least at explained why he was turned down for the first time in his life but it didn't make him feel any better for it.  "Shit, Jarvis, are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"And you've been… what?  Having late night chats?  Romantic e-liaisons?"

"No need for jealousy.  He's spoken for as I understand it."  Tony's mind boggled.  "Would you like to read his mail to you, Sir?"

"You're sure it's for me?"

"Yes.  It has 'FAO Tony' in its subject line."

He sighed, for once not rising to it.  "Put it up."


Sender: kitt@alyse.com
To: tony@starkindustries.com
Subject: FAO Tony

Tony -

We met at the Foundation's charity ball last year.  No hard feelings, I hope.  Jarvis has no doubt told you what I am.  I work - indirectly - with a man called Nicholas MacKenzie, an unsurpassed security expert, and we're responding now to a personal request from Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.  He's concerned with your personal security after your revelations regarding Iron Man and I can't say I blame him.  Nick's asked me to assess the situation.  If you're comfortable with this, respond and I'll visit.  If not, he's willing to come himself although there might be a slight delay on his visit as he's abroad at present.

Let me know.  It would be good to see you again.  You were very convincing that night, I was almost swayed.

Yours, Kitt


Tony licked his lips.  "Reply for me."

"Saying?"

"'If you won't stay the night, what about breakfast?'"

He smiled to himself before it faded.  "Get me everything on Nicholas MacKensie.  And everything on Kitt.  And explain to me what you meant when you said he's spoken for?"