I retired, I came out of retirement, damn plot bunny... Dunno if this is going to be only a plot bunny, disconnected drabble fics, or if it's going to stick around long enough t become a valid story. In other words, don't expect anything more.

Disclaimers? What is mine is mine, what is not is not. It's a fan fic, deal with it.

Iron Enterprise
Trey Miller, author

Allons-y


My name is Tony Stark. I have been many things in my life, most notably the son of Howard Stark, the one who pushed Stark Enterprises to a whole new level of power and prestige, and the man who summarily gutted his own company when he learned… well, you know my story. It's only been global news for a couple years.

Anyway, as I was saying:

I am Tony Stark, and I am stuck in the year 2252.

How did I get here? Well, see, while me and the gang did our little "avenging" against Loki, the talking heads that run S.H.I.E.L.D. (boy did that piss Fury off) decided that the only way to save the world was to sacrifice countless lives by throwing two nukes at New York City.

Fury took out one, and yours truly figured that since they so graciously gift wrapped such a kick-ass present, I should play courier to deliver it to the Chitauri, personally.

Not my best move considering the hell my suit was in, but still better than having to relocate Stark Tower because a bunch of idiots figured mutually assured destruction was better than giving us five minutes to kick ass.

Seriously, five minutes. Thor, Banner, and the Captain (and the two not-so-super-powered assassins) could have held them off for that long, and I could have easily built something to stop them. Well, maybe seven minutes. I may have actually needed to locate some parts.

Where was I? Oh, right, I take this nuke up through the wormhole, and quite literally throw it at the Chitauri mothership while JARVIS puts the suit into sleep mode from lack of power, and I go to sleep mode from lack of oxygen. On that note, the next version of my Avenging suit must be space-worthy, and have backup power.

So how did I end up in the 23rd century?

From what JARVIS' recordings show, I missed the wormholes earth-side event horizon, almost was vaporized in nuclear fire, and managed to survive being tossed through the destabilizing wormhole, across time, and popped out in New York. Just in the wrong century.

Strange thing was, my eventual date with terra firma at maximum velocity was stopped by hitting the sloping grade of a two kilometer tall building (America just couldn't let anyone else have the world tallest building award, after all), bouncing my head off it enough to wake back up, after which I managed to stop my fall overlooking a New York three times as large as the one I was familiar with.

Parking is still a bitch, though.

After a bit of time to recover, JARVIS booted everything back up, hacked the global network, crappy security, FYI. I figured out what the current situation was, and went back to Malibu.

I'm honestly struck speechless that while my Malibu house is long gone, my entire workshop and collection of other suits somehow managed to survive not just two centuries and change, wars- plural, global destruction, and aliens.

Pepper, I'd kiss you if you weren't dead and dust in the wind!

She managed to talk Thor into placing some kind of Asgardian techno-magery to protect my little corner of the universe!

I'd kiss Thor for setting this up, but… yeah, no.

This all leads me to now. Upgraded suit (current technology finally caught up with me, almost), JARVIS is set up and digging through history for anything I need to know, and I'm about to try summoning down a god or two.

I am Tony Stark. I am Iron Man. And I'm about to rock this world.