The Man in the Garage

"Tony," she said softly, "you saved the President. You saved me. You blew up all the suits. What are you still afraid of?"

Pepper said it was progress. "You're finally human," she whispered, tracing the circular scar where the electromagnet had sat. Tony smiled and nodded and waited for her to fall asleep so he could walk to the garage.

"Happy?" said a voice from the doorway.

Tony looked at the blank whiteboard. At the empty drawer. At the quiet Alfa Romeo. Then he took her hand.

He hated the silence.

Three hours later, the whiteboard was covered in calculations for a suit that could deploy from a wristwatch. Tony stepped back, breathing hard. His scar itched. His heart pounded—with excitement, not fear.