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Avenger/Knight Rider Crossover
05-19-2012, 03:06 PM
Post: #1
Avenger/Knight Rider Crossover
Nicole and I started this... roughly 4 years ago, when the Iron Man film first came out. It's gone through a couple of rewrites and then slipped into a coma. We decided to bring it back to the living world after seeing Avengers. It's been going for a bit so each part is labeled with our names for this post. Whoo.

*******



Katie: There were two types of people in the world; those who you could trust and those you couldn't. The trusting types could be split off into several different branches depending on the information or task one would be intrusting on a person. However, it was easier to work with the person that you didn't trust. You always knew they were up to something behind a sickly sweet smile, waiting for the opportune moment to go for the kill and take what they wanted. It was easier to stop them before they started something, and would feel no remorse in putting them out of their misery. This man was among them. He was smart enough, however, to put on a mask to make him seem like he was trustworthy. He was a nasty individual with an even temperament and always knew exactly how to get his way and never got caught. He was a lawyer; the best money could buy. And Justin Hammer could buy a lot. As soon as this remarkable man had gotten him out of prison with nothing but a fine and a slap on the wrist, he was already digging through his files and some of his enemies file (the ones he could get a hold of anyway). He found something that caught his interest, and searched and hired scientists and mechanics that he knew wouldn't double cross him if he paid well. That, and he made sure they didn't have a personal grudge against anyone. He had gotten smart since his last... setback. He watched the progress of the last of his expenses with almost childish glee. His company may have been all but terminated, but he certainly wasn't out.



Nicole: He had always adored those days. Those when one could do exclusively as one pleased; when reclining with an array of tools and personal tasks wasn't frowned upon amidst piles of completed corporate files. Those days of no professional liability and responsibility. No limits kept his feet on the ground and no situation forced him into the air. Said days were far and few; solitude order amongst the chaos. It was then he could work what magic he so chose without pressure.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those days.

"Mhm, see, that's why it's called the 'dirty game of politics' and why you don't see my name plastered on any donated chair in the Senate House."

"Yes, Tony, and that's also why they've denied your request to speak at the Geneva Convo stating you're 'not fitting of an unbiased statur-"

"Not unbiased?! How am I 'not unbiased'? Have they read any of the headlines- heck, even the tabloids. The only possible way I could be any more 'unbiased' is if I created a beeper for every old coot with her Mr. Whiskers stuck in a tree. Oh, just a sec, Pepper, I'm about to face sudden death."

Pepper instinctively ripped the phone a distance from her ear moments before a violent cracking blared from the line. She was getting too used to this, she noted to herself. She amused herself by sighing loudly as the billionaire returned to the line, his voice cool compared to the seeming destruction she had just heard.

"Right, death's got his hands full. He's getting too old for his age."

Pepper distinctively heard a familiar retort of "Hey!" behind Tony Stark's comment. "Then tell 'death' that he's not off the hook either- and end your game of billiards."

A click of definite silence. Tony set the phone down upon the billiards table and grinned across the game at Rhodey. "She knew," the colonel need not guess, tapping his pool stick on the floor.

"She sends all her love though- well not all. Just some, like a third- or third of a third. The rest is address to me," he leaned across the table and shot a futile attempt to gain the win away from his friend- failingly. "Alright, dazzle me with a 'sudden death' win, oh tall, dark, and high-strung; before true death arrives in stilettos.



Katie: "That I can do with little problem, Tony," the billionaires companion replied as he circle the table. A sly grin moved across his face as he moved into position, sitting on the table and sliding the cue behind his back.
"And I can do it in style!" The cue clunked the white ball, it hitting its first target, but at the wrong angle. Instead of the stripped ball hitting the two in front and knocking them into separate pockets, it spun and banged weakly into one. Nothing made it in anything.

"Don't you say one word Stark." Rhodey bitterly took out his wallet and paid his smug opponent his winnings.

"Not a word. I've made that shot before; you've seen me do it!"

Tony merely shrugged, not answering like he was asked. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

"What? You have! You might not remember since you were drunk as all get out-" A shrill beep echoed through the vicinity. Rhodey heaved a sigh and crossed the room to his jacket, digging out his cell phone.

"Colonel Rhodes."



Nicole: After a steady marathon of weeks trying to regain the reigns of his company, the accomplished feeling of defeating the one man who bested him at billiards seemed more satisfying than it should have.

It could have been far worse, he mused to himself as the billiards table autonomously cleaned itself. At least now he was sharing the burden with Pepper. The billionaire predicted that if he hadn't coaxed her (skillfully, he would add) into a co-ownership of Stark Industries, he was sure the rush back into the shark pool while recovering would have sent him into two cardiac arrests, one for each 'heart'.

In the end, she really was the one to always save him, one way or another.

Of course, the victory was short lived and Stark soon felt boredom tugging on his mind, pulling him out of his small thoughtful reflection. Luckily, eavesdropping and boasting are always fun.



Katie: “Yes. Yes sir… I didn’t know the man personally, no… How? Yes sir. I’ll be there soon.” Rhodey’s expression had changed throughout the call; starting from annoyed from his loss to Tony, quickly to concerned, and finally ending in standard Air Force business.
He flipped his phone shut with an exasperated sigh, pulling on his jacket. “Tony, I’m going to have to cut this visit short. There’s a problem that’s come up.”


Nicole: Completing the eavesdropping, Tony cued his boasting.

"Uh huh, sure spoiled sport," he replied with an arrogance that was only added by his plopping down into his work desk chair. "Using your wife- Uncle Sam- as an excuse to escape," he nonchalantly rolled by, complete with occasional spins in the chair, "Don't make me guess. We both know how uncomfortable that can get. No subject is off limit."

Rhodey was a stone to Tony's prodding. Must be serious. "Really, save yourself the hassle of driving only to see me cleaning it up. I don't want another diva moment of yours complaining to me because I can arrive on scene before your cadets can clock in-"

Rhodey's foot halted Tony's chair on his next pass.


Katie: Rhodey gave his long time friend a hard look. “I may not be authorized to tell you, but I know you’ll pry and I don’t have time for games. A Brigadier General, my newly appointed superior, was found dead less than eight hours ago. I need to be there.”

He didn’t wait for Tony to give a reply. He was out the door in a matter of seconds, giving a polite ‘hello/goodbye’ to Pepper as he passed her in the stairwell.

He didn’t know this man; he had only spoken with him once or twice. He knew the Brigadier General was intelligent, might have done better in the science field, but to each man his own. But, the higher in power you were the more enemies you had.




Nicole: Tony allowed his feet to skid against the ground after Rhodey's swift exit started with a push on the leg of his chair. It wasn't a malicious move, Stark knew; Rhodey was a master practitioner of ending his "Leave it be" speeches with a definite 'Period'. "Mind making a milk run after examining the crime?" Tony shouted after his friend, even though the door to his lab had slammed after 'milk', "Whole, preferably."
He spun once more out of spite- before noticing the exchange of shadows in the staircase. "Oops, time to look busy," he muttered, leaping up to reach for something important to toy with and only managing to reach for the nearest duster his robot Dummy must have left behind. A mental note to threaten the klutz of circuit board later.

"Tony. Don't even-" Pepper condescendingly placed a hand on her hip.

"Hm? Oh, when did you get here? I'm kind of busy, can't you tell?" Tony interrupted. It was the usual banter.

"Busy? Really?" it was completely obvious she was unimpressed, even as he "Mhm"ed each rhetorical question. "What are you doing with that then?"

Tony glanced down at the duster, the most unusual object to see in HIS hands (curse that hunk of parts). "... Y'know... Cleaning and... stuff-- Do you know how badly that man dandruffs when he's under pressure of losing a precious game of billiards? I honestly couldn't find the white cue ball in it-"

"Did you look over the memo notes for the assembly, Tony?" She was through playing his usual game.

He looked up from picking something oddly sticky from the duster fibers, "Assembly..." He repeated with no expression on his face explaining that it obviously didn't click, not that he honestly cared.

"Stantguard University? This evening? You personally scheduled it?"

Or maybe he did care.



Katie: Rhodey stared long and hard at the already cleaned crime scene. He had already been questioned, as was everyone who had been under the Brigadier Generals command. He was in the clear of any suspicion, but there were others that were being under close watch.

The B.G. had been murdered, that was a given due to the bullet wound. He was told that there was a very small amount of blood, which was understandable from the pea-sized hole in the back of his neck. He was told through the grapevine that forensics found the bullet severed his brain stem, or whatever was in that area; biology was never a strong area for him. What baffled forensics was how the bullet avoided the spinal bone completely. Whoever had killed him, was either a lucky shot, or knew where to hit him.

--------

“Oh, I love this thing! Mr. Sanders you are so much better than my last computer nerd! But, uhh, could- could you do something about its uhh…” Justin Hammer waved his hands around to tall machine in the middle of the room. “It’s eyes. Could we do something about its eyes?”

“What’s wrong with its sight sensory?” Allen Sanders, a round squat man with a rather large nose, questioned. It was a fair question; he was head of the project and he considered it as close to his child as he would ever get.

“Nothing. It’s just that it’s… staring at me. I mean everywhere I go, it fallows! Ya’ know?” He began moving about the room to illustrate. Indeed the machines head moved with him. “It’s kind’a creepy.”

“It does that to everything that it doesn’t have full readings on yet. It is simply studying you.”

“Studying me, huh?” Hammer moved closer to the center, being mindful of the wires hooked to the figure. “Do you know who I am?”

The humanoid was silent for a moment, the gears of its brain clinking together as it stared down at the human with unblinking, cold eyes.

“You are Justin Hammer.” Its voice reminded Hammer of a synthesizer. “A powerful man, head of a weapons manufacturing company and the man who pays for my creation.”

“Good!” Hammer clapped his hands together, very happy that it knew him. “Very good!”

“However,” Hammers smile faltered slightly as it continued. “A man who is above you in power, Anthony Stark of Stark Ind. all but destroyed your reputation and company. You were placed in jail-“

“STOP that!” Hammer was fuming now. He didn’t want to be reminded of the reason he was in this predicament. “You are to never speak of that! Understand! Ever!”

“I understand, Mr. Hammer. I fear I may have damaged you, and for that I apologize.”

“Damaged me’? What do you mean by ‘damaged me’?”

“Your voice was raised, your heart rate increased, making more heat than necessary from your body. This causes your skin to wrinkle showing age, as well as increasing your time of natural death.”

Hammer was speechless for a moment, even a little shaken.

“That’s creepy.” He patted the Sanders while making his way out of the room. “Good job. Good Job.”


Nicole: “Presentation cued?” “Mmhm.” “What about your cue notations?” “Have ‘em, won’t use ‘em.” “-And you actually brought the bio-engine?”

A beat. “…Ohh, I knew I forgot something.”

Pepper ceased preparing Tony’s suit so suddenly that he almost broke his cool façade to see if she had entered cardiac arrest on the spot. “You-… Oh my God, did you- really-?!” Her cell phone was already dialing and next to her ear to remedy his mistake; it was basically inscribed in blood in her job description anyway. A small click indicated that Happy was engaging on the other end of the call, but not before a hand pulled the cell away from her ear.

“Whoa, y’know if I had a dollar for every time someone fell for that, I’d be- well- me,” Stark smirked briefly in realization, “Go take your seat and stop with the worrying, Ms. Potts. It’s making me nervous just looking at you pace the room like I’m going to walk out there and my pants will catch fire- which wouldn’t be the first time,” he added quickly before motioning her to go relax for once.

Defiantly, she brushed his hands away and instead put one of her own in his face, index extended. “Don’t; not here, not now. We need this proposition- not a viral youtube video,” Pepper growled, but in a less harsh tone.

He grinned, buttoning the last lower on his suit, “Saving that for later.” If he were not being characteristically sarcastic, she’d swear his depravity knew no bounds.



Katie: There was static everywhere. A garble of white noise that vaguely resembled the human language. The voices melded together with the clatter of glass, clacking of shoes, and pulling of strings. To anyone else, it sounded like a higher-class crowd, chatting mindlessly with one another as strings played subtle background melodies.

Paintings lined the walls and strange sculptures dotted around the floor, each set at a price. A silent auction was to take place shortly, every piece on show to be sold.

A tall, rather handsome older man was well separate from the gaggle of the wealthy. An equally handsome woman stood before him, both being rather animated in their squabble.

“You swore, Jordie! You promised you’d go on this trip and not be called away on business! It’s not often we have time off at the same time!”

“Love, I know you’re frustrated, and you have every right to be. But, this is a pretty big deal! Clean energy without any politicians greasing it up! Tony Stark-“

The woman huffed at the name. “Stark!” She spat. “You should have proposed to him, the way you talk!”

“Ellie, please try to understand. This assembly was a last minute call and will be smaller – shorter even! – since it’s taking place at a university. I’ll only be gone for two days, three at most. We still have two weeks together before we need to be back among the zombies of our everyday, mundane lives. Let’s not spend it angry at one another because I’m going to a presentation for a couple of days Besides, I’m already on the VIP list.”

His wife’s lips thinned in irritation before letting out a sigh. She shook her head and turned back toward the main room entrance, grumbling over why she ever married an over working scientist.

Jordie let out a low whistle. He’d be in the doghouse for a few days, he knew that. But, he figured if he bought his wife that sculpture she had been eyeing, she’d be less angry with him.

He started to make his way when a rustle coming from behind caused him to stop. Being a naturally curious man, he turned to find the source, only to find a tall, thin machine staring at him with large eyes.

“Professor Jordie Ishkal.” It wasn’t a question.

“Y-yes?” He was rattling his brain, trying to figure out where this thing had suddenly come from and why it knew his name.

“You will not be attending the assembly that is to take place at Stantguard University tomorrow evening at seven pm.”

“Oh? And why is that?” He was calculating the build and structure of the machine, and all the conclusions he was coming up with to its functions were beginning to make him sweat.

“You will be permanently off line.”

Before the human could react, the machine raised its arm, the three spindly fingers launching forward, penetrating through his throat, head, and heart. A liquid spewed from small ‘pores’ in the fingers, filling the soft tissue before crystallizing. The poison cut off his air canal, starting to leak into his mouth, blocked an entry to one of his heart chambers, and shredded his frontal lobe.

It happened in an instant. The man was writhing in pain before the machine withdrew its fingers. He lost all coherent thought before he hit the ground. And he was long dead before anyone realized he was missing.

The machine left as soon as he hit the ground in a convulsing heap. It had wanted to stay and watch as life left. It was curious, to say the least, on how many ways a human could die. How long it would take for each. But, it had a mission to finish. It could only observe small bits of data as it was on a tight schedule. One of its creators had said that it could study how the human body broke down one specific target. However, it had to kill several targets first, as a ‘trial run’ to test its abilities. It didn’t mind, though, it was still able to collect data, even if it was just a small amout.

At the moment, however, it needed to travel. It had one more target, a military man, which needed to be killed by the next day before it could get to the ‘one specific target.’

Anthony Stark.



Nicole: “Wait, shouldn’t you be at the demonstration? You of all people strike me as the techno-logic type.”

Kitt jumped involuntarily, tearing his gaze from the hypnotic glow of the lounge television screen. David, arms full of bagged ice, was standing behind the couch
Kitt was currently occupying. Kitt swore he had already gone home or at least to the presentation for the night, and from the looks of the rest of the lounge, so
had all of his colleagues.

“Good evening, I apologize. You snuck up on me,” he admitted, reaching for the remote to turn off the television and its hypnotically redundant news casts on
the newest human trends in fashion, entertainment, and murder.

“Imagine that,” David quipped harmlessly, “You just gonna sit here and miss it, or what? Green tech, seems right up your alley, I’d say.” He uncomfortably shifted the bags that seemed to be burning frostbite into his forearms.

The clock on the wall about the mounted television read 8:17pm; 3 minutes until the seminar in question. Leaping up, almost to the point of falling, Kitt was struck by realization. If he weren’t there promptly, Ms. Lance would be
seething. “I hadn’t realized the time! The news on those recent murders was too intriguing to ignore,” he grabbed his coat on the edge of the couch as he came
around the back to meet his shivering peer, “I assume these are headed in that very direction as well?” Kitt motioned to the ice packs with a nod, throwing his
coat on over his own shoulders.

“Yup! And misery loves company,” David shifted one of the hefty bags onto the head of the couch and patted it, grin growing wider. Kitt took the hint without complaint. The moment the cold starting piercing through his coat sleeves however, his arms began to do the complaining for him.

“How did you become the lucky fellow fetching the ice, any way?” Kitt asked, trying to get his sharp mind focused off of the weight and chill in his arms.

David crossed the room, walking more briskly with the lifted weight, “Same way you just got roped into helping me! I’m just such a swell guy, wouldn’t you say?” The cheesy smirk he threw Kitt could have had the accompanying commercial gleam. Kitt simply raised a brow. “Us nice guys have to stick together,” David pushed the lounge door open with his foot with an experienced gusto, allowing an unwelcome icy breath of late September to wash over Kitt.

“I b-believe ‘suffer together’ is the more appropriate ph-phrase in this case, David,” Kitt retorted, bracing himself against the urge to shiver violently. Why did it have to be nearly winter? This human form had about as much appreciation for the cold as his automotive one. None. “S-speaking of ‘nice guys’, w-what is your take on the speaker, this T-Tony Stark?” The sarcasm wasn’t lost in the
shivering.

“Pfffffft, the man’s a genius and a douche, I’d say. But, he’s got heart, being a hero and saving a good lot of lives or whatever.”

“And a hubris larger than that n-new tower of his- after they rebuilt it. Again. He re-reminds me too much of someone else I used t-to know…” Kitt didn’t bothering hiding the sudden wash of recollections in his red gaze. David, and all of his immediately colleagues, knew the trans-human was prone to experiencing lapses of memory relays; this was to be expected for a human-made computer still reeling in this new reality. Kitt was a subtle persona though, and required a bit more prodding if he was to ever discuss any of those flashes of his past ‘life’.

“The news wasn’t really the snare that kept you from coming, then, was it?” David dropped his smile, “You’re too precise for something that mundane to trip you up.”

Kitt never tore his eyes from the last peeking light of the sun dying beyond the bustling complex they were approaching. His silence was acknowledging enough.

“Next you’ll tell me you got distracted by Angry Birds,” David snorted.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Exactly. You know, even if this guy is like someone in your memories, you’re going to have to face those eventually. Besides, I think he’s more like you!”

The last remark had Kitt staring unimpressed at David. “Come again,” he it stated less like a question.

“Hear me out: You both are unusually smart. You both work like computers, obviously in your case—and are experts in them. You’re both snarky. You both have pride issues and you both have these alternate identities of sorts.”

Kitt thought on it a moment, only long enough to notice they had walked close enough to the complex where the presentation was to be held that he could individually make out the faces of the guests. That was his cue. He shifted the freezing dead weight to his left arm to free up his right hand. Reaching into his coat pocket, he felt his red-tinted sunglasses. “While I could debate against a number of your points there, David, I can agree that latter trait to an extent. I think you’ve failed to realize the difference even there between us…”

“And that would be?” David glanced over to see Kitt put on the usual glasses to veil his unusual crimson eyes.

“He doesn’t have to hide his identity…”



Katie: The auditorium was buzzing with activity, mainly over the excitement for the billionaire genius who happened to be a big shot hero, that was to give a presentation that evening.

Colonel James Rhodes watched the crowd of egghead students and science technicians chatter excitedly, waiting for the event to start. This wasn’t the type of atmosphere he would usually find himself in, willingly. But, after the day he had had with the murder of not only his commanding officer, but also several other higher ups in the science division of the military. He, along with several others, was convinced they were connected, regardless of the various death patterns. And with so many aspiring young minds in one location… He didn’t want to miss a possible opportunity to catch a serial killer.

Tony he wasn’t too worried about. He always had a way to get out of a situation.

Downing what was left of his drink, he went to take his seat.


Cold, calculating eyes shimmered like jewels in lights reflection, high in catwalk looking over the orchestra pit. Among the hanging fixtures a figure crouched, body unmoving, its wide, unblinking gaze scanning the whole of the large room.

The humans were beginning to sit. Its target would be showing himself soon. It was rather… excited. Before it had to be quick with killing, as to not be seen or noticed of its presence. Now, it had been promised to take as long as it pleased and watch this humans’ death. Anthony Stark was the primary target after all.

It had tried many different forms of killing, and was debating which to use for this one. It knew he had shrapnel’s trying to get to his heart, and a reactor to stop them from killing him. It would remove it and allow the shards to move. Yes.

Poison.

Which would kill him quicker? Or would the combination of both end him before the other would alone? There was only one way to find out.

The lights dimed. The audience quieted. Now, it waited.
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