Chapter 21 - The Aunt, The Secretary & The Imposter II

Sue rolled her eyes and pulled the machine beside the bed, while she sat down on a small wheeled stool. Then she grabbed his arm and folded his sleeves up. "This machine extracts your blood before cycling and reintroducing it. We've got a bag of fresh, matching blood ready, but from here on, you'll have to manage the arrangements yourself."

Tony sighed, finding her strange formal way of speaking weird. "What happened? I thought we were buddies."

"Ehm…" Sue coughed and gestured with just her eyes towards the ceiling corner.

Ah, cameras. Tony saw the little devices. He could have easily disabled them if he wanted, but he refrained since he didn't have much energy to do 'it' anything. This really sucks.

"I thought I just had two or three more days left to live," Tony mumbled while Sue pricked his arm with what Tony felt like an angry stab, and set up the machine. "With this, I might just be able to find a cure, you know… Soooo… Is the deal still up?"

You can have me for a whole night… however you want… as much as you want… deal? Tony remembered her words from that day, and she was very much sober when she made that offer. The condition was that he finds a cure for himself.

"Mhm…" Sue responded with her voice, embarrassment clear on her face.

Ah, I feel hot already. Tony noticed the shudder between his legs. But other than admiring her pretty face, he had no energy to do anything.

"Done." Sue finished and started the machine. "You can drag the machine with you. It's pretty lightweight."

"Ugh, I look even more sick with this. Heck, I feel more sick." Tony grunted and sat back up. He looked at the reddened tubes carrying his blood. "I hate this."

"Then find a cure quickly," Sue replied, smiling craftily at that. "Your reward is more than just living, after all."

Ah, I can't wait. Tony sighed, checking her out from top to bottom as she sat there. Her lab coat couldn't really hide her well-developed bosom and tight jeans-clad legs. It'll be a fine celebration gift.

"More reasons for me to head home." Tony got up from the medical bed, groaning. "See you later then… soon."

Ugh, this is worse than being caught naked in public. Tony groaned while dragging the machine alongside himself. Although he avoided leaving through the main lobby, it was still annoying. He put the machine beside him in the backseat and headed back to the airport.

Thankfully, it being his private plane, his car took him all the way on the tarmac to the open door of his plane. But when he looked behind he noticed the airport's terminal not far away. Ugh, someone must be recording this right now.

Accepting his defeat, he climbed into the plane, and the pretty stewardess helped with his machine. There goes my chances of doing her in the fight.

"Would you like to have any drinks, Mr. Stark?"

"Apple juice and a hamburger," Tony ordered his lunch instead and busied himself with work. He took out his high-tech screen tablet and started drawing on it using a pen.

The patterns soon started to resemble various metallic limbs—arms and legs. But instead of being combined suits, they were all just a thing of their own individually.

Twenty hours of battery backup should be doable. With a belt extension pack, eighty hours is possible. Tony mumbled to himself while engrossed in designing the limbs. But the American market is limited. Affordable?

Tony didn't know if he'd live to see the election or not, but he still took everything seriously. He understood that if he wanted to win the election as an independent candidate, he needed an abysmal amount of money to influence all walks of life—media, both parties, and the internet.

Firstly, the dominance of the two-party system created immense structural barriers, including limited access to debates, fundraising challenges, and restricted ballot access in many states.

This was something hard to fix for Tony even with money, but he hoped to find a way eventually. Perhaps by provoking other candidates to do open debates, or maybe something else.

As for the widespread name recognition, promotion, and support, he didn't feel much concerned there. Being Iron Man was enough to be known everywhere. However, the last aspect—the winner takes all nature of the Electoral College System.

I gotta win the popular vote in as many big states as possible. Tony muttered, finishing the sketch. That should earn me some goodwill.

After having been to the charity event in New York, Tony had met and noticed a few things. There were a lot of homeless people, and even among them, there were a lot of amputees. Many of them were even veterans.

Having already built an exo-skeleton for construction, he realized he could open a new branch for Stark Industries, focusing on biotronics. No arm? No Leg? No worries, he could solve it for them.

The best part was that his mechanical limbs were more than just balancing devices. They had actual joints, muscle trackers, and AI-based support systems that could allow the person to use the limbs like real ones—except for all the touch receptors.

I'd give this one eight to ten billion. He guessed the market value of this idea. Automated production can reduce the cost. Ugh… But not enough to sell in all countries.

"Jarvis, what's the current market value of Stark Industries?" Tony asked offhandedly while receiving the tray of food from the pretty stewardess.

Jarvis replied quickly, "The latest number is one hundred and ninety-nine billion, Sir. Projections indicate it will cross the two hundred billion mark by tomorrow."

Tony breathed deeply, taking a bite of the cheeseburger. "Great, but not enough."

"Sir, the company was valued at eighty billion merely a few months prior. There is considerable apprehension in the market that it's a bubble," Jarvis added, reading through countless articles on the internet.

"It's not a bubble. We're not some flimsy, soft tech company. We sell hard, physical technology, and we're years ahead of the competition. But…" Tony paused, an idea sparking from a sudden realization. "JARVIS! How much of that evaluation is tied to my charming existence? Imagine Tony Stark vanishes right now, how far will the stock nosedive? Run the numbers, and be gentle with my ego."

Surprisingly, it took Jarvis a few long minutes to do all the calculations, carving a way through complex probabilities and equations. By the time Jarvis answered, Tony had finished his lunch already.

"Sir, Stark Industries' technology and research base is robust. However, in your absence, the market value is highly likely to drop below fifty percent," Jarvis responded. "But it will gradually recover over time."

Tony reclined back in the seat, smirking. "Alright, since I'm also Iron Man and will be duking it out with the bad guys in the future, there's a chance the market might get a little jittery. Jarvis, here's the plan; every time I go into battle, get banged up, or even come close to kicking the bucket, I want you to buy the dips."

"Understood, Mr. Stark."

####

Malibu, Stark Mansion,

"That's new coming from you, Agent Romanoff. Since when did Stark become worthy of your praise?" Fury eyed the irresistible woman with doubt. "I hope it's not pity."

Natasha stared back at the man, her expression unchanging, clad in her usual attire as Tony's secretary; a tight black skirt, white blouse, black heels, and her hair loose. "Mr. Stark has recently shown remarkable emotional range. He's charitable and serious when needed. But often, he indulges in his vices."

"Hmm, so you're not blind," Fury replied and turned around to look at the sea. "His plane should be about to land. Bring him home. It's time he takes this seriously."

Natasha nodded and left without giving a reply. She didn't know if Fury was already aware of her intimate affair with Tony, but she had decided not to talk about it. After all, her motivations for going that far were more personal.

Like a good secretary, she just took a company luxury car with a chauffeur and left the Stark Mansion for the airport.

####

"Ugh, Reed must have lied." Tony groaned as he woke up from the jolt of the landing plane. "I feel worse than before."

As the plane taxied to the private space, he noticed from the window a car waiting outside with a particularly hot secretary waiting for him beside it. Seeing her, Tony forgot all his fatigue and annoyance, the memory from last night's intimacy still very fresh in his head.

Too bad I can't boast about this one. Tony sighed and got up, dragging the machine himself this time.

"Mr. Stark!" Natalie rushed forward to help Tony down, acting shocked by his condition and the machine. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Ah, this damn hot voice of hers. Tony relished in her caring concern, her hands holding his arm.

"Just an experiment, nothing to worry about." Tony lied and dismissed her concern. "Nice seeing you again. Didn't get the memo you'd be my welcoming lady. Should've brought flowers."

Natalie smiled brightly and held the machine he was pulling behind. "A few guests arrived at the mansion. Ms. Potts asked me to rush and get you from the airport."

Tony snickered. "Let me guess, someone from the government?"

"From a government agency, they said," she answered and led him to the car, helping him into the backseat.

But just as she was about to put the machine beside him and take the front seat herself, Tony stopped her. With a quick press of the button, he stopped the machine and removed the tube from his arm.

"Put it in the trunk," he ordered.

Soon after, Natalie took the backseat beside him while the car started moving. Tony, being a man who valued privacy, especially in cars with pretty companions, quickly pressed the button to put up the screen to hide the backspace from the driver.

"Let me guess again. Is he bald? With an eyepatch?" He asked, relaxedly staring at Natasha who sat there stiffly, never reclining her back against the seat.

"That is right, Mr. Stark."

"Tsk… I know him." Tony sighed and felt an itch in his palm to feel her legs again. The smoothness from last night was too stimulating. "What about you? Did you… enjoy the party last night?"

A faint blush formed on Natalie's face, her expression changing into something different from formal. Not seductive, but charming as she smiled. "It was wonderful, Mr. Stark… All of it."

Wait, does that mean?

Tony hesitated a little. But remembering that neither he nor Natalie were drunk last night when 'that' happened, he decided to try it.

Tony gently moved his palm and placed it on her lap, his fingers sliding carefully over the texture of her skirt. He knew she felt it, and if she didn't want him to, she would either remove his hand or move away.

But she didn't, letting Tony taste the soft flesh squeezed under the fabric. It was a short moment, but they finally caught each other staring at Tony's reckless hand, blissfully enjoying its bold move.

They both looked at each other and locked eyes for a moment. No one said anything.

______________________

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