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The Love of Ivan	By : miladygrimm Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Iron Man Views: 3144 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man 2, X-men (comics) Omega Red, Marvel, or Paramount Pictures, nor do I own any of the characters from the comics or the movies, this is a work of fiction and I do not profit from these writings.

Chapter List
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((Might be a day or two till next update, I know...you are all wonderfully spoiled...I enjoy spoiling you....it's fun. But I have a few busy days ahead of me. Enjoy!!))
Justin Hammer had been born in Surry, England. The one and only child to the Hammer Legacy. He had been his mother’s precious child. Some would call him coddled but Justin knew better. His mother had understood that he was a singularly impressive boy and had treated him as such. He deserved the High Life and all that it had to offer. The girls, sometimes the boys, the glitter, the wine, the parties. He was smart, handsome, and talented.
So what the fuck was he doing here? He sat upon his single bed and looked around at the blank gray walls of his cell. Movies often depicted prison cells as stone or some other masonry. Justin had learned that most of them were made of this strange painted stucco crap. He had a tiny bed with a poor excuse for a blanket and a flat pillow that smelled like dirty hair.
He didn’t deserve this. This was a punishment that far exceeded his crimes. He admitted he crossed the line a few times. But this…this was ridiculous. This orange jumpsuit was ridiculous too. Money was supposed to protect him from this crap.
He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair wishing he could have a nice shower; a nice private hot shower with a load of soap.
He was not to blame.
He could think of a few others who could be blames. Anthony Stark for one. If Tony hadn’t shown up in his wonder boy suit ready to pander himself to the world Ivan wouldn’t have set off the Hammerdrones.
Okay…he might have set them off but there was no proof of that. It didn't matter. Tony was the lynch pin of the whole night.
That being said Ivan was to blame. It almost went without admitting. Vanko had used Hammer to build his damn drones, slaved them all to commands and set them upon lots of innocent people. Hammer had nothing to do with that. He’d just wanted to show Stark up. Have a little bit of fun. So why wasn’t Ivan here? That Russian bastard would be right at home here.
Then there was Pepper. Pretty little bitch. The redhead who’d fucked her way to CEO of Stark Industries. She was the reason he’d been caught, taken away like some common thug. She’d ever so easily called up the NYPD and turned him in, made up some cockamamie story that he’d been to blame for the entire fiasco. She’d been a pain in his ass…a smart one. Yes…Pepper more than anyone else deserved to pay.
All three of them. Justin was the absolute least to blame but here he was…stuck in a cell the size of a bathroom with nothing to do but think about it all.
But how to fix this?
Justin thoughts were interrupted by the resounding buzzer that told him it was lunchtime. Not Hammer’s favorite time. He got to sit in a room with a bunch of low end convicts, eat terrible food, and try not to make eye contact with the wrong person.
The gray metal bars slid open to reveal the long off white hallway. He, like everyone else in his cell block had to line up outside and be lead out to lunch. Lines…he gave this shit up in kindergarten.
“Alright! Move it on out!” The loud obnoxious voice of Warden Harris reverberated off the stone walls. Warden Harris was an ass, but he was an ass with a badge which made him a constant nuisance around the area. He had a large potbelly barely hidden by his uniform. However, underneath that soft bulk was hard muscle. Many had underestimated the large Warden, only to receive a smack across the neck with his nightstick.
The smell of prison food wafted down the hallway. Hammer had noticed that prison food, while terrible, was still slightly better than hospital food. Which said something about America’s priorities. The thick greasy stench that filled his nose told Justin that it was meat loaf day, with a side of some odd substance that they called mac and cheese. Justin didn’t believe it.
“Ey! Ey Hammer-man!” That squeaky accented voice could only belong to one person. Rudolph Gomez.
Rudolph was a skinny little bitch. Product of a mixed race relationship which gave his skin a permanently sunburned look. He was missing four rather important teeth, which meant that when he smiled he looked like a very odd jack-o-lantern. The fact that he was about 5’3” tall and weighed in at 110 pounds didn’t help the matter any. The tiny guys body had never quite grown into his oversized head, completing the pumpkin look. According to his rap sheet he was a serial rapist and thief. He specialized in stealing women’s undergarments, dress in the clothes he stole, rape the women he stole them from.
What a freak.
But for some reason Gomez liked Hammer, followed him around whenever he got the chance. When asked why Gomez would just respond, ‘Man’s got style!’….whatever the hell that meant.
“What is it, Gomez?” Hammer asked sliding into the single file line that snaked through a big zig zag line.
Gomez shifted from foot to foot nervously. Giving a high pitched little giggle that was strangely feminine. If the female was a psycho crazy bitch. “You ain’t herd yet, Ahh man it’s the sheeit!
“Gomez…we both know you can speak English properly, I’ve heard you do it.”
“Gotta fit in yo! Gotta make ‘em think I’m one of them, you know man? You know?” Gomez gave a strange little one footed hop.
The only place Gomez would fit in was a freak show.
However, Gomez stuck by the allegory phrase that he was innocent. He stuck by this despite the fact that he was caught hilt deep in a bound and gagged woman while dressed up as a small dark skinned Madonna circa 1987. The girl had said she’d been an unwilling participant. Hammer, for one, believed her. No girl in her right mind would sleep with the creepy walking pumpkin willingly. “You sure you ain’t herd was up man?”
“Obviously not, What haven’t I heard?” Hammer asked, mostly just so Gomez would spit it out and stop jumping around like a kangaroo on crack.
“That Stark friend of yours…the one you got that hard on for?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s about to make that skinny bitch his old lady…got her a big ol diamond ring!”
“Potts?” Hammer asked freezing in the line. “Pepper Potts?”
“That’s the one man! It be all over the news…saw it on my way to the laundry place to do my time washing these greasy fucking sheets.”
The time had come. Stark had just given Hammer what he needed to make it all work.
“Gomez.” Hammer said leaning close. “You’ve been here a while, right?”
“Hell man, they got Gomez’ name on a cell man.”
Of that Hammer had no doubt. “I need something.”
“Ey, Gomez help you out….help the Hammer -man out…What Hammer gonna do for Gomez.”
“I’ll get you silk.” Hammer said, knowing it was a weak spot for the skinny little mixed breed.
“Silk undies…ohhh for that you can have Gomez.”
“Not necessary…I need information.”
A plan was forming in Hammer’s mind. And it put him in a great mood.
~
As far as Pepper could tell Tony had quarantined himself in his basement office with Jarvis and the handi-bot that had been nicknamed Dummy. According to the records she’d called up a few minutes ago he hadn’t even come out to eat in almost 46 hours. It had to stop.
Pepper had begun the transition of moving her things into the cliffside abode. She and Tony had both decided that they didn’t want a long engagement or a lot of snags. Actually Pepper had decided and Tony had just went along with it. He was distracted, as usual.
Normally Pepper let it slide. Tony was Tony and there was little that could be done about it. But she wasn’t going to let him be distracted here and now. If he really wanted a marriage he was at least going to go through the hectic planning process with her.
She scooped up a plate with a large Ruben sandwich on toasted rye, and set a dill pickle on the side. If there was one thing that could make him pay attention it was a good sandwich. She walked down the stairs and punched in her number to enter the basement.
Tony’s face was lit up by blue lights. His hair was disheveled. He wore a pair of comfortable fitting jeans and an old rock t-shirt. He looked lovely and terrible all at once.
Images flashed over the interactive holographic screens, images of Howard Stark, Anton Vanko, the Arc reactor, Russia, Ivan Vanko, Sylvia Moore, and a plethora of other things. Pepper saw flight manifests, and customs information…things that she was sure were fairly illegal. Funny, Tony didn’t seem to care when he was breaking the law.
“Tony,” she said placing the plate down in front of him. “What are you doing?”
“Uhhhh.” He said blinking back to reality and noticing the food. He scoped it up and took a ravenous bite. He chewed, swallowed, and motioned to the screen with the bitten sandwich. “Collating data.”
A half answer at best. “Are you looking for Vanko again?” She asked directly.
He turned his gaze to the monitors and attempted to ignore the glare Pepper was giving him. “Maybe…probably…yeah.”
Pepper shook her head, stepping around so he was forced to see her, even if it was through a haze of delicate blue images. “Tony….No.” her tone was flat.
“No? No what?’ He took another bite and spoke through half chewed food, “Come on Pepper, this is what I do. I hunt down bad guys and…” He gestured once more.
“And what?”
“Deal with them, you know.”
“No, Tony, I don’t know. When he was running around and destroying cars and everything I got it…But it’s been almost two months and nothing…Now…”
“Now what?” Antony Stark asked. “You think now that he’s running around with this….” He motioned to a large image of Sylvia. “Nurse girl person you think he’s ready to settle down and hang up the electrical Bull whip?”
“Yes, Tony. It happens. Sometimes when a man decides he wants to be with a woman….well they change.”
Tony felt he had said something really wrong somewhere and wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened. He watched Pepper for a moment, seeing tension crinkle her eyes and nose. She wasn’t just upset. She was…tired.
“Are you saying I haven’t changed?”
“Tony…I…I love you…and I don’t expect you to hang up your suits.”
“Good, because I wont.”
Pepper plowed on, “I don’t expect you to hang up your suits permanently. But it seems like Vanko is taking a break…and I think you should too. I need your priority right now to be here…with me…with this wedding.”
“My priority is here…”
“Have you asked Rhoddy to be your best man yet?”
“Uhhhh…no…not yet.”
Pepper continued to glare at him.
“Alright, what do you need from me?”
“I need you to hold up your end of the deal. Just set this Vanko thing aside till after the Honeymoon. Then you can go back and do what it is your are supposed to be doing.”
“Alright. Deal,” he said with a nod. Pepper had made her point. If Ivan could give up some head bashing time to be with his lady-friend then Tony could do no less. He stood up, setting his half gone sandwhich aside and wrapped his arms around Peppers slim back.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Pepper nodded and tilted her head upwards, as if for a kiss. Tony, smiled feeling like he was out of trouble, and leaned down to kiss his soon to be wife. Just before his lips got to hers she said, “Jarvis?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Will you please lock all files pertaining to Ivan Vanko or codename Whiplash?”
Tony gave a small sound not unlike a frustrated mule.
“Yes ma’am. Am I too assume these files are to remain closed until after the honeymoon?”
Tony let go of Pepper and stepped back. His brown quirked halfway up his forehead.
“You assume correctly, Jarvis,” Pepper said with a smirk. “Thank you.”
“And might I suggest Peruvian Lilies for your bridesmaids bouquets, ma’am? I hear they are considered an elegant substitute for the more traditional roses.”
“Thank you, Jarvis. Perhaps you could help Tony pick our a honeymoon destination next.”
“It would be my pleasure, Ma’am.”
“Traitor,” Tony grumbled as Pepper made her way upstairs.
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The Love of Ivan