The scenes on the screen changed, and Tony Stark's standing figure appeared in the camera. Fully engulfed in the Iron Man suit, the visor was somehow made translucent. There was darkness everywhere behind Tony, but around his feet were rocks as far as one could see. Uneven, unnatural, and magical. It didn't look like Earth.
"W-Where is Mr. Stark?!" Hector was on the edge of his seat. "Moon?"
"Look there." Tony's figure pointed into the sky from that strange surface. The camera panned in his finger's direction. A distant but noticeable blue ball appeared in the view. "That's Earth."
Hector jumped to his feet, wondering if President Stark was on the Moon. That made the most sense.
"And look to the right of Earth—that's the moon."
Hector frowned but kept his ears open. "What? Then where is he standing?!"
"And I'm literally standing on the answer to every problem we've ever thrown at this planet. No more draining the Earth like it's some bottomless smoothie. This thing—right here—can power our lives for millions of years. Colonize the whole solar system? Still good. Build ridiculous mega-structures for twenty-thousand years? Easy—This… Is… Psyche 16."
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"This… Is… Psyche 16."
Tony spread his arms wide and let the camera focusing on him fly away so the entire asteroid could come into view.
"Three times the size of New York City. Ninety percent metal. Estimated value—ten quintillion dollars—yes, with a "Q." Currently parked at Lagrange Point L1, just a cosmic hop from the moon. I hauled this beauty in from the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter to fuel Earth's energy and raw material needs. Starting next month, Stark Space Forge kicks off mining operations—with every nation on Earth on board. So if you're a metal worker, welder, mechanic, painter, construction worker, or electrician... suit up. The career of your lifetime is knocking—Welcome to the future!"
The camera kept panning away, slowly going back to Earth. But then Tony's voice came again.
"Ah, and Vote for Potts—She's going to lead America in this venture. Peace out!"
No longer in the view of the people, Tony waved his hand, made a teleportation circle thanks to the ring, and returned to Earth, straight into the White House to host the White House Correspondents' Dinner. It was the last one, so he didn't miss it. Heck, he even let some comedians come over and make fun of all the quests. Including him, of course.
They saw Tony's live announcement, too. Even after he made his way into the massive dining room, the people were too shocked to react. Some were staring at their phones. It was understandable. Stocks of most energy and mining companies must have gone down by crazy margins. Meanwhile, the stocks of space rocket companies must have gone up.
In any case, he gave his speech, poked fun at those who came before him. Made fun of Pepper, who was to come after him. And then, he ate to his heart's content. He tried not to look up on the internet to see how people were reacting to Psych 16. He really wanted to. But he also wanted it to slowly boil up so he could see the final reactions the next day.
It had been an insane undertaking. Hiding the massive asteroid wasn't easy. During the final months, he had to take the help of almost all space agencies to keep it under wraps.
"Drinks?"
Tony walked into his bedroom at the White House with Natasha right at his heels. She was the Director of the CIA, and they had a lot to discuss before he logged out of the Oval Office.
"I could use a beer," Natasha replied and quickly put down the file folders she had brought over. She then removed her heels to get comfortable, it not being her first time entering that bedroom. In fact, she was overdressed this time. In her professional office suit and pants, her hair done in wavy curls for the dinner event.
"Catch." Tony took out a bottle of beer from his small fridge in the room and threw it at the hottest spy he'd ever known.
Clank!
Natasha's reflexes were still amazing. She caught it with ease, using her ring with the communication device to open the cap.
"Just bring 'em here. My back's staging a rebellion." Tony tossed his tie and coat, then collapsed onto the bed—shirt still on, pants too, shoes flung somewhere in the room. Cracked open a beer, and leaned back into a fortress of pillows. "Docking that asteroid was an absolute nightmare."
Natasha grabbed the files and joined him on the bed, sitting with her legs folded sideways. She admired Tony a lot beyond personal reasons. From a common superhero to whatever he was now, directing the entire world's progress. She felt it was above her pay grade just to be in the same room as him. She was a simple spy, and he, a crazy tech genius.
Tony noticed her eyes on him. "You gonna bite?"
"No, just thinking. I saw you declare yourself as Iron Man on TV, and now, giving Earth almost endless resources to develop for thousands of years," she replied and handed him a file. "Anyway—these are the files."
"You do know that you're gonna remain the CIA director after I'm gone," he said while taking a look.
"It's yet to be decided, Mr. Stark."
"Hah, tell that to Pepper. She's already got her dream team lined up. Pretty sure she'll kill me if I steal you—or half the roster, really." Tony said, skimming through the files like he was flipping a menu. Most were profiles on high-value targets the CIA wanted badly. A few had that extra dash of drama—important people with very inconvenient secrets.
Seeing him read seriously, Natasha let herself sink into the mattress, shoulder to shoulder with Tony against the mound of pillows. She was comfortable, familiar with the space, like she'd been here too many times to bother with formality.
Tony caught the faint trace of her perfume as she shifted beside him, something clean but expensive. His smirk was lazy. "No. 5?"
She didn't look at him, just flipped a page in the file. "Good nose."
He huffed, more amused than anything, and kept skimming. The documents were dull, the usual mess of names, pictures, and classified details he'd process in ten seconds and forget in twenty. Nothing in them made him pause.
Unlike Natasha's hand.
Her palm landed on his thigh like it belonged there, fingers pressing in, slow but firm, working into the muscle through his pants. It wasn't affectionate, and she wasn't the type, but there was a casual ease to it, like she was testing how much tension he had stored up. Like she already knew the answer.
"Take this one out. No need to send him back to the Mexican government—he'll be running his little empire just fine from behind bars over there." Tony marked a file and diligently did his duty. "Baby oil? Seriously? Yeah, make this one public. I can't stand creeps like him. Might as well be that island guy—same stink, different cologne."
Soon enough, he was finished with all the files, and Natasha's hand no longer massaged his thigh.
Her fingers tightened around the thick outline, straining against his pants, squeezing just enough to feel the way it throbbed in response. Slow, measured kneads, like she was testing how eager he was, keeping him hard and ready without a word.
"I guess… We'll be having these meetings in Stark Tower in a few months." Tony muttered, looking around the room and then at the beautiful redhead spy to his side. Her face gleamed as if the moon in that room lit with just bedside lamps, good for study, and perfect for setting up the mood.
"Um-hmm…"
Tony smirked as Natasha leaned in, her lips meeting his in a slow, practiced kiss—one she had perfected a thousand times, but with him, it was always something rawer. No strings, no expectations, just unfiltered passion that left no room for regret.
"Relax your back, Tony."
Before he could retort, she slid onto her knees between his legs, gripping his sides with firm, knowing hands. With a smooth tug, she dragged him down onto the mattress, making him let out a small yelp that quickly turned into a chuckle.
"I'll do that." He settled in, arms crossed behind his head, watching the way her slender fingers moved like they had a mission.
She popped the button with ease before pulling the zipper down and tugging the pants off his body in one fluid motion, his briefs following right after. His cock sprung free, eager, already standing tall in full salute.
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