High And Mighty - Tony Stark [ON HOLD]

2.

I lean against my small, green VW beetle, my phone pressed against my ear as the voice of one, calmer than should be, Pepper Potts echoes through my head.

"I'm so sorry. He was meant to leave hours ago,"  she trails off, the exasperation quite evident in her voice. Possibly due to her delayed birthday celebrations because of Stark's one night stand, the bitch from Brown, and now his tardiness, to possibly one of the most annoying stories that Jameson has forced me into.

"It's no worry Pep. We all know how Stark gets," My eyes dart over to the large plane that i was meant to be on, then to Colonel Rhodes standing near his vehicle, his facial expression matching mine. Pissed off. "I envy you. I get to spend the next however many hours trapped on a plane with him, then however many more in a foreign country watching his weapons demonstrations, only to return back home and receive crap pay for a story that I was forced into."

She lets out a soft laugh, the faint sound of her heels echoes back at me, "Just remember, I work for him," Just like a flipped switch, business Pepper comes back, signalling to me that she is approaching her boss. "I'm gonna try again right now. I'll keep you posted."

I am left with a dial tone, as my strawberry blonde friend abandons our conversation, hopefully to get Stark's ass into gear. I sigh, opening my bag and dropping my phone into the dark abyss with a sigh, my hand running down my face as I realize just how tired I really am. Getting home after midnight then being up by six will do that to a woman.

Colonel Rhodes catches my eye, his movement beginning to slow as he approaches me, obviously wary at my outburst. I let out a chuckle and walk towards him, closing the gap between us.

"I just got off the phone with his assistant, Stark is, obviously, running late and she is gonna try and get him moving for us."

"We've been here for almost two hours. He won't mind us waiting a few more," Colonel rolls his eyes deeply, " I saw you at the casino last night. Reporting on Stark?" He questions, his previously cautious stance melting away quickly.

"Yup," I pop the p sound, folding my arms loosely in front of myself, creaking the new leather of my jacket, "J. Jonah Jameson has made me the official 'Stark reporter'," I make the quotation marks with my hands before refolding them gently, "Apparently readers like an opinionated reporter."

Rhodes laughs at this, his small mustache jolting with the movement, and i find myself laughing along with him. He holds his hat in his hand,  at this moment if one were to not notice his uniform, he would resemble a typical civilian. "Not a fan of Stark's work, Alvarez?"

"Sophia, please," I begin, my demeanor almost shifting at the mention of Stark's work, his weapons, "I am a fan of some of his work. His provision of deadly weapons to countries that have both the means and the reasons to enact war on the U.S.A and many other countries, I'm not a fan of per se."

"Unfortunately, he makes a lot of money, and I have to admit, he has helped the military quite a bit," Rhodes argues softly.

I can't help but scoff at this, "Help the military? Apologies Colonel, but from an outsiders point of view he seems to only be spurring on the act of war. He's the walking definition of 'War is peace'."

Rhodes laughs again, and I realise that I may have been taking the simple discussion a bit too far.

He raises his hands in a mock-defense, "Hey, no argument from me, Alvarez. I don't agree with some of Tony's business ventures, but when i joined the military i swore to protect this country, even if that means using weapons produced for blood money."

I offer him a small smile before trying to change the topic. Talking about Stark is what I do all day long, for the moment I'd just like to think of something else.

"So, we were meant to leave almost two hours ago and this is Stark's plane. There's most likely a bar or at least some kind of drink, shall we?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Once again, he chuckles in response, motioning to the staircase for me to go before him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We immerse ourselves in light conversation, the topic of Stark being sorely ignored until the annoying rumble of a souped-up engine interrupted us. Rhodes makes his way onto the landing of the stairs quickly while I stay in my seat, finishing off the beer that if my boss knew I had would get me lectured.

Voices fill my ears as i stand and make my way to Rhodes. Standing on the tarmac is Tony Stark, and his bodyguard who carries his bags for him.

Maybe I should ask Jameson for a bodyguard?

The two men speak to each other loudly over the tops of their cars, my small beetle looking inferior next to their monsters. They continue on about their little race and I lean against the doorway, my arms folded softly.

Rhodes interrupts the two, "What is wrong with you?"

The rich man gawks, "What?"

"Three hours," is all Rhodes says.

"I got caught doing a piece for Vanity Fair." I snort at this, having photo evidence of what he was caught up in.

Not bearing to hear more of his excuses, I return to the bar inside the plane where my computer sits, uploading photos from the previous night.

Finally the two board and we take off, my teeth clenching as my ears pop but nonetheless the flight appears to be low on the issue radar. That is, until "Mr. Douchebag" exercises his apparent authority to gain my attention through whistling.

I ignore the first whistle, hoping he will get the hint. Then the second. Then the third, until ultimately my patience wears as thin as his standards.

"You do realise I'm not a dog, yes?" I snark.

"My apologies, madam spitfire," he smirks, over the top of his glass of scotch, "You the stark reporter?"

"My name is Sophia Alvarez."

"Ooh exotic. Well Sophia Alvarez, what do you expect to gain from this trip?" He leans forward slightly, the smirk still plastered over his face.

My eyes don't leave the screen in front of me, fingers working to type the article about last nights debacle, "The crappy pay check I get from flying across the world and being stuck with you, Mr. Stark."

"Many would see that as a benefit, Miss Alvarez."

"Well I'm not many." I click send and forward my article to Jameson, "And after last nights hunt through Little Caesar's I'm running on low sleep and even lower patience."

"Sleep is for the weak, cookie." He stands, walking to the bar that I sit at before ordering another hard drink, "You drink Kombucha?"

"I'm here on strictly business, unlike you I will keep away from alcohol, and no, I'm not a fan," I turn my head towards him, almost jumping backwards when I realise how close he is standing.

The smirk never once leaves his face, and is accompanied by a wink as he retreats back to a disgruntled Colonel Rhodes.

"Rhodey, Kombucha?" He asks the man who groans in response.

This is going to be a long trip.