Otherwise known as Tribble #8534. At the moment, I'm honestly not sure where I want to go with this, just that it might be good for a cheap laugh for my fellow Spacebattlers. Special thanks to Darth Artemis for being kind enough to do a quick beta reading. Any relevant thoughts welcome. Enjoy. Synopsis: Nobody suffers the weirdness, and sometimes poetic justice, of fate quite like the sexually promiscuous. This is what Tony Stark and Morrigan Aensland found out after one too many late night trysts. -*-*-*- Prologue Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Anthony Edward Stark -also known as Tony, Iron Man, that guy at the party, and that rich bastard who has all those cool toys god, I hate him!- stirred groggily at the sudden interruption to his relatively peaceful sleep. With a semi-audible groan, he reached out with both hands, feeling around in the near absolute darkness of his bedroom. He felt a brief thrill of sleepy triumph as his hands grazed the object he so desperately sought. Tony grabbed hold with both hands and roughly brought the goose down pillow over his head. Instantly the incessantly chipper noise from the whatever-it-was, was muffled to a much more manageable volume. His work completed to the admittedly stellar standard that he held himself to, Tony drifted right back into his dreams. After all, one didn't want to miss the impressive feats displayed by both Halle Berry and Jessica Alba in tight red latex. Especially when they were so close to.... "Sir," a well accented digital voice drifted from somewhere in the room, briefly drowning out the previously continuous beeping and thoroughly snapping Tony awake at the same time. The billionaire groaned again, much louder and crankier this time. "What is it JARVIS?" For pure spite, he kept the pillow firmly planted on his head. It had been such a nice dream too. There was a moment of silence, as the world seemed to arrange itself for a fresh attack on Tony Stark this morning...evening? "Are you not at all concerned with the rhythmic tone coming from the only somewhat expensive telecommunications device near your bed?" Tony snorted. "If it was Fury trying to bother me, he'd have S.H.I.E.L.D. agents tossing buckets of ice water on me by now. If it was a bomb, you would have flagged it the second it turned on. If it was Pepper, she'd use her work cell, and it'd have the new ring tone instead of the regular one..." "She's still less than amused with your selection, sir," JARVIS cut in politely. That wasn't Tony's fault in the slightest. How was he to know that she was the one person in America who hadn't liked Can't Touch This? Besides, it had seemed so fitting at the time. Instead of voicing this very important alibi to any perceived wrongdoing on his part, he forged ahead with his previous reasoning. "All of the Avengers have their own unique signals and lines they can use in case something big is happening. The only people who would be using my house phone are exes, congressmen and telemarketers. And no JARVIS, I don't need a knife that can cut through a shoe. That's fun the first time, but after the eighteenth it just becomes a waste of shoes. No more of that." "Yes sir," The voice said agreeably, "On that note, I would like to inform you that I had all three of those knives removed from the house. There is certainly no need for any more halves of Nikes to be laying around. Miss Potts was very concerned the last time she found one. Why it was in the microwave, is utterly beyond me." To be perfectly honest, the reasoning for that little surprise was totally unknown to Tony as well. As it turned out, Hawkeye got downright mischievous after a few whiskies and had hidden several of Tony's "quality assurance experiments" around the house at their last gathering. The one hanging by its laces from his waterfall shower head like some sort of ghetto Christmas ornament had been his personal favorite. "But at the risk of being entirely too exacting, that is not the house phone that is currently ringing," JARVIS finished, sounding somewhat smug. Well, as smug as a highly advanced computer program could. Tony absorbed this revelation with a sleepy blink, then another, and finally his eyes widened. Untangling himself from his bed sheets, Tony cast a look of surprise at the cell phone that had been casually tossed on an errant desk chair just a few feet away from his bed. His personal cell phone, for emergencies not automatically related to superhero-ing and close friends. A phone that hadn't rung in nearly a week; one that had an amusingly fitting ring tone meticulously chosen for everybody in its directory. And it was using the generic tone? Tony was suddenly very aware of the windows in his immediate area and what or who could be looking through them. The chair that was the phone's resting place was very close to one of those windows, and if he were to just saunter over there.... "JARVIS, do a complete scan on the grounds out to fifty meters. I want to know if anybody is skulking around out there. Prep the Mk. VI armor too, things might get messy," Tony ordered, rapidly waking up as his body gave him a hefty shot of reflexive adrenaline. Shaking his head, he pretended to ignore the phone and laid back down. With a few deep breaths, he relaxed his body just enough to simulate having gone back to sleep. If he was being covered by snipers, he didn't want them getting excited and accidentally pulling the trigger on anything. Of course, it could be argued that staying still on a bed near a wall of windows was not the best place to be when snipers were potentially involved, but if they were simply out to kill him, he was sure they would have taken the shot before he woke up. A moment passed, and Tony rapidly went down a mental list of people he knew who might have organized an assassination attempt. He really didn't think he'd pissed anybody he knew off enough for this kind of thing just yet. And a random hit seemed very unlikely as well, especially when the whole "Galactus almost ate Earth. Again." thing was still going around in the news. Not that he wouldn't be oddly flattered in a way if a random hit was the case, but it really seemed like there were more important things to be done than randomly shooting Iron Man. Especially when he was one of the people that helped beat Galactus back. You know, that thing that almost wiped out all life on the planet? "Scan complete sir. There are no visible contacts within sixty meters and no detectable weapons for another thirty, none of which classify as a known long range weapon. If there is somebody watching you right now sir, they have better stealth technology than you do or are doing so from an extreme distance. In that event, might I recommend putting on some pants? If you are to die, perhaps it should be done with a modicum of dignity." Tony chose to ignore JARVIS' snark. That nobody was right outside waiting to break in was a small comfort, but modern military sniper rifles had an maximum effective range of just over a mile. However, at such a range the whole act of shooting somebody became very tricky, even for skilled marksmen, never mind some random yahoo who found one that fell off a truck. One had to account for the effects of gravity induced bullet drop over long range, and ambient wind speeds that could throw off a bullet's trajectory by quite a bit, on top of simple target leading. All of his home windows were triple panned bullet resistant glass, so in addition to being a damn good shot, any shooter would have to be using one hell of a gun and round to do the deed. Ok, so if somebody was going to shoot him, they were either really, really good, -not to mention very well equipped- or they were overconfident to hell and back. Tony went over his list again, and was now positive that he hadn't pissed off anybody that would take the time and money to hire somebody who could both make the shot and guarantee a kill. Tony blew out a small breath he'd been holding and could actually feel his blood flow start to mellow. He wasn't going to start off his day by ducking a few rounds from a high powered rifle; a great realization to have on any day, really. With this fact in mind, Tony took the few steps, not being shot at, thankfully, and scooped up the still ringing phone. He checked the glowing display and felt himself frown, curiosity and concern suddenly starting a small wrestling league in his mind. 3:30AM Morrigan Aensland Ignore / Answer This was odd for a variety of reasons, the most prominent being that Morrigan, succubus and disputed queen of the demon world known as Makai, didn't call people. At all. If she wanted to talk to you, or do various other things, she'd just teleport to you. The first time that had happened, it had surprised the hell out of Tony; mainly because he was in the shower and walked out to find the mint haired succubus casually leaning against his marble sink. Mind you, it wasn't an unpleasant surprise, just a surprise. The second time, she'd shown up while he was still dozing in half of his armor after a mission with the Avengers. She had teleported in right behind the chair he was in, wearing a grand total of a saucy grin, and had whispered a greeting into his ear. Of course, reflexive action Tony was paranoid Tony. So, hearing the tell-tale sound of what he could sleepily puzzle out as something teleporting behind him -though he couldn't bring to mind why he instinctively knew it was teleportation at the time, or who would be doing so- and an unknown voice in his ear had automatically registered as a possible threat. He'd whipped around, with the succubus dancing out of the way and put a repulsor blast clean through his favorite couch and one of the legs of a baby grand piano. The couch had exploded in a flurry of memory foam and garnet cloth while the piano simultaneously crashed to the ground with an agonized groan from all the strings inside. Morrigan had laughed at him for a solid five minutes. Tony had grumbled pointedly at her breasts; they were bouncing far too much to be doing anything other than laughing at him too. Through the chuckles, she'd remarked that this was one of the reasons she enjoyed his company so much more than the average mortal. The third time, they'd both shared a laugh about the previous two instances over a few beers and some pizza. Pizza because she'd pouted about starting to get bored with the fancy dinners and wine that was the standard offering to her. Thanks in no small part to Tony Stark, Morrigan was rapidly becoming irredeemably addicted to American junk food. Oreos were practically her kryptonite now, and Tony was withholding the existence of a double-stuffed variety for a suitable occasion. Once they had finished, and Tony had chugged a Propel fitness water, they had returned to the bedroom for round eight of that night. When he'd woken up, it had been nine in the evening the next day and she congratulated him on making it to round fourteen, beating the previous mortal record by seven. Legitimately, one of his proudest accomplishments. But, in all the times they'd ever enjoyed, and they did enjoy, each other's company, there had never been a call involved. Just a spontaneous entrance, a night of good old fashioned, but not necessarily clean, fun and the promise that it would happen again soon. Tony had chalked up the month long absence to the really screwed up politics of the demon world. He'd once asked about it out of sheer sociological curiosity and Morrigan had blithely explained that she was locked in a power struggle with several other high ranking demons. Evidently, the deaths of both Jedah Dohma and Mundus, within a year of each other, had created a serious power vacuum in Makai. They, along with Mephisto, Blackheart and Morrigan herself had been at the top of the Makai power chain and with two of them suddenly removed, things were starting to get messy. Mephisto and Blackheart were vying amongst themselves, trying to simultaneously annex as much of the newly open territory of the deceased lords and rub it the other's face when either was winning. Morrigan was busy consolidating her power, and was having some trouble from both spill over of the father-son rivalry that was Mephisto and Blackheart, and the various resurrection cults that had been springing up like wildfire. While most were apparently nonissues, the one that was of some concern to all three remaining demon lords was the one that was attempting to raise Argosax: one of the few people that could challenge Morrigan's father, Berial. All of this sounded very unpleasant, but Morrigan assured him that demon politics rarely made it to the human world; for a long time it had been because, in spite of all their power, the supernatural world was very dependent on mortals. Nowadays there was the added effect of the high number of active meta humans that, if mobilized alongside the regular vanilla armies, could easily swamp the demon world. Hearing about the demon world so casually was still a little weird, but all in all, their whole relationship was weird. Another bit of oddness that was weaved into it was the whole "being a succubus" thing. That had seemed like a very important point; well, after round three, when it had finally crossed his mind. Even then it hadn't been very alarmist, until he'd really thought about the concept of a succubus and what they did. Tony asked her if the whole "death by snoo-snoo" thing was for real. After he explained the reference, she had chuckled and said that it was, but was typically only used when a succubus was really hurting for the stimuli that kept them alive. Apparently, a bored succubus rapidly became a dead succubus, normally with crazy acting as the bridge between the two, and a starved one would be the one to just eat somebody. "Besides," She had said with a meaningful smile, "why would I up and eat my favorite playmate? You're so much more interesting and lively than other mortals. Without you, why, I'd start to get bored." Tony chose to interpret this as the sex being so good it was actually keeping both of them alive. He could work with that. That aside, the month of silence had been noticeable. Perhaps the call was part of some act of contrition for the lost time? No, that didn't fit Morrigan's character. She didn't apologize, at least not with words, and certainly not with a phone call. And anxiety about seeing him was so radically out of the question that it didn't even register. Maybe something nasty had happened in Makai and she was calling to warn him? Possible, she did visit him fairly frequently and thus he could be considered as some manner of leverage against her. But again, this seemed unlikely, if only because it didn't seem to have any lasting benefit. He could be leverage, but likely not enough to be worth an abduction; not to mention it didn't fit that she would call him to warn him about it. Morrigan was the type to put that sort of plot six feet under, along with its planners, before she mentioned it to him. If she mentioned it at all. So, what was going on here? With a rapidly building curiosity, Tony hit the answer button on his phone and tried to suitably prepare himself for something very unusual. Well, more unusual than frequent, casual sex with a succubus or flying around in a power armor of your own make and design at any rate.