TITLE: Synergy
Sequel to Bogey
Crossover with Iron Man (movie version)
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note):
English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are...
FEEDBACK: Loved
PLOT-BETA: Sapphire, partner in crime, cross-breeder of plotbunnies and sounding board
GRAMMAR BETA: okamimyrrhibis

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All blame goes to Sapphire for not giving up until she had dragged me into seeing the movie. ;) We spent the weekend discussing possible crossover with my 'verse. This is the result that she bunnied.

The medical explanation for Lennox's 'skin condition' I credit to dania99
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Oh, what a beautiful mornin', Oh, what a beautiful day. I got a beautiful feelin'. Ev'rything's goin' my way.

What a time to think of this song, Tony Stark, billionaire, engineering genius and part-time super hero, mused. He lay on his back, gazing into the sky, watching tiny clouds drift lazily across the azure background. The sun was obscured now and then, but all in all it was beautiful. Crisp and clear and the perfect postcard setting.

Pepper would have a fit, his thoughts continued. Not to mention Rhodes. Rhodes definitely.

He had had an appointment today, right? Something important probably. He sort of remembered Pepper mentioning a board meeting or something along those lines. Instead of going, he had decided on having a bit more fun.

He almost laughed. Look where that had gotten him. Well, okay, a board meeting might be more mind-numbing and boring, but physically not so painful.

The part of his mind that was contemplating old songs and the reaction of his friends was slowly but doggedly interrupted by the part that continued to send 'ow, ow, ow' signals. Those really couldn't be ignored. Tony had no idea where they even started and if they ended anywhere. He was probably one big bruise.

Not the first time.

More padding, he thought to himself. An airbag. Yeah. Airbag sounded great. A big balloon blowing up in front of him just before he crashed into the rather unforgiving surface of the ground.

He'd have JARVIS dig into that. Cool. Yeah, airbag. Cars had them, why not him?

The niggling thought about how ridiculous that would look was quickly silenced.

There was a noise to his side and he tried to ignore the idea of airbags in order to concentrate on what was coming for him.

Probably whoever or whatever had brought him down. It had to be some kind of new technology. Something awesome and something he really wanted to know, wanted to understand…wanted get his hands on.

The ground shook a little and his limited field of vision flickered. The Heads- Up- Display was still functional. It was so strange that all of the armor had failed, except the audio and video part of the HUD. Sure, he had no access to them, but he could see and hear. JARVIS had been cut off from him the moment he had lost control. Similar to a computer crash, the hard drive went down, with all peripheral systems dead.

A gun appeared in front of his face. A really big gun.

Held by a hand.

A huge, silver hand.

Blue optics lit up in an alien, robotic face.

"Hey, Jazz," he greeted the alien robot, trying to sound casual. He pulled it off, despite the by now rather overpowering pain signals.

"Stark?"

"The one and only. Fancy meeting you here."

"What in the name of Cybertron are you doing here?"

"Test flight?" he hazarded.

Jazz let the gun disappear. "I hate to ask, but… you know this is a no-flyover-zone?"

"I don't think I ever got that particular memo."

Jazz gave a rather human sounding sigh. "Can you move?"

"Oh sure. I'm just lying here to get a tan. Whatever it is you guys used on me, it zapped the suit. So… a hand please?"

Jazz looked at something past his field of vision and suddenly there was a second robot there. This one was yellow, Jazz's size, and Tony remembered him from a very brief visit to the Autobot base. Bumblebee.

"Let's get him back to the base. Someone might know how to get the man out of his suit," Jazz decided.

Bumblebee picked him up rather carefully, but it still aggravated his bruises. Tony gritted his teeth and rode out the pain, glad his face was hidden behind the helmet mask.

Hurts like a bitch. Not my first crash, but I'm still not used to it. Damned if I ever get used to it, ran through his muddled mind.

And then the HUD died, too.

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The Ghost-2 mission had gone beautifully. Years of planning, two years of finalizing the design and building the ship, weeks of sweating over the launch window, hours of tension just before the launch, and even tenser minutes throughout the launch… It had been a picture-perfect launch, the ship had detached from the carrier in a text-book maneuver, and she had flown into space without a hitch.

Unlike her sister, the Ghost-1, Ghost-2 hadn't been required to fly into deep space. It had been a simple flight plan: head for the moon, get into position, link up to the Ark's main computer, fire up the Ark's drive, and slowly remote-control her to the moon where she would sit and wait until it was decided what to do with her. The idea for a first line of defense against the Decepticons who might come to Earth had been well received. It would take time to reconstruct the Ark into that defense station, but the Autobots would do everything possible to keep the planet safe.

The crew of the Ghost-2 was in good spirits, there had been no electronic failures, the ship's integrity was just as predicted, and until they had reached the dark side of the moon, nothing had gone awry.

The crew at the Arctic station of Project had been elated. All their hard work had paid off. Communication was clear and without any interruptions. Commander Walker had pulled off the first half of the mission without a hitch.

Jazz had always been at the base, keeping an optic on matters. Ratchet had basically monitored matters from afar, ready to assist. Jazz had been the Ark's pilot and should something not work as predicted, he was best-suited to lend a hand. He was also the best liaison to humans and his size made it easier for him to interact with the smaller species.

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A problem arose on day seven, followed by another one five hours into the trouble-shooting process when alarms went off, claiming an unknown blip on the radar.

The reaction to the first problem came from the scientists involved in the mission. They scrambled to find the fault in the interface unit that theoretically should allow the human vessel to communicate and control the Ark. The reaction to the second was just as swift, though with immediate results, as Sam Witwicky took down the bogey flying over the Arctic station with a precise strike that would have made Barricade proud.

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Somewhere in the LA area, a signal from a Cybertronian mechanoid life form was picked up by the Nevada Autobot base. Optimus Prime knew that the chance of another one of his people finding this planet were slim, at least in the short time that had passed between his arrival and today. But one never knew.

The signal was erratic and weak, as if the mech in question wasn't really in a good shape and had just managed to get at least basic systems working. It would disappear, then reappear, so Optimus wondered how long the signal had been active before their equipment had finally picked it up. Prime dispatched Ratchet to look into the matter, accompanied by Lieutenant Burn from Epps' unit. That Barricade trailed along was no great surprise. Jazz was at the Arctic station and Barricade had felt decidedly bored lately. He wasn't actively volunteering, but Ratchet had sent back a brief burst of information that the former Decepticon had announced his presence. Should the signal be a Decepticon, Barricade might have a better chance at off-lining him than Ratchet.

Optimus trusted Jazz's partner not to betray them. Barricade had nothing to win from allying himself with a Decepticon newcomer. His loyalty was with Jazz and Jazz was an Autobot.

So for the first time Barricade went out on an official mission unofficially, trailing not Jazz but Ratchet, and Prime was waiting to see what they discovered.

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Tom Banachek reminded Stark of Obadiah Stane. In a good way. Not of the lunatic he had had to kill to save Pepper, the world, and himself. The expression in Banachek's eyes was a mirror image to Obi's whenever Tony had gone and done it, pulling some incredibly stupid stunt. And Tony's reaction was almost the same as with those Obi Looks: he felt chastised, though he wouldn't let anyone see it. Least of all Banachek.

"Mr. Stark," the leader of Project greeted him, voice deceptively calm.

They had managed to get him out of his completely dead suit – aside from what little the HUD had displayed before it, too, had finally expired. Tony had claimed privacy to remove all pieces after several engineers had pried loose what needed to be loose to take off the suit. Without JARVIS, matters were rather complicated. Except for the chest armor, Tony had had help and had been able to hide the presence of the arc reactor from prying eyes. No one made the connection between the glowing chest piece and something he might have inside him. He had refused any kind of treatment other than a superficial check. He knew he hadn't broken anything; that was different from what he felt: bruised. Bruised ribs, bruised head, bruised everything. He would be black and blue by tomorrow and he would most likely be stiff for days to come. He was used to it. He had been worse. At least this time there had been no blood anywhere, which had been kind of a relief.

The medic of the base hadn't been happy, but he couldn't force Tony into treatment, so he had just scowled, muttered something under his breath, and told him to at least consider coming by should he feel worse.

"I told you to call me Tony, right?" Stark tried to diffuse the situation. "Old pals, shared government interests, shared alien friends…?"

"I doubt I have to explain 'secret military installation', 'no-flyover-zone' and 'restricted access' to you, Mr. Stark. So the question is: what were you doing here?"

"Armor test run," he simply said.

Banachek didn't look impressed. "Of all the places… here?"

"Out of necessity and because, actually, yes, of you guys. I figured to test my new stealth system I needed to go up against something more sophisticated than the US military radar."

"I'm not as flattered as you might think," Banachek replied. "You entered restricted airspace and endangered not only yourself, but also this facility. We are a secret operation, Mr. Stark."

"And you took me down. Scratch one for you. Tell me, Tom, how did you do it?"

Banachek's face showed nothing. "Welcome to the Project Arctic Base, Mr. Stark," he finally said almost formally. "Your home for the next few days."

"What?"

"We don't have a flight to take you home and your suit's a bust."

Tony's eyes narrowed a little.

"We might not be outfitted for visitors, but make yourself at home," the Project leader continued. "I'll contact Colonel Rhodes to let him know where you are, but don't get your hopes up that he'll bail you out."

"Never would," Tony muttered. Rhodes would probably laugh his ass off.

Banachek turned to look at Jazz, who had been leaning against the wall and had watched it all silently.

"He's your problem."

Tony raised an eyebrow – damn, that hurt, too – and met the bright blue optics. Banachek left the room and Jazz walked over to him.

"Where's my suit?" Stark wanted to know.

"Lab."

"Take me there?" At Jazz's quizzical look, Tony shrugged. "Hey, if I can repair the suit I can leave, and Tom will be all the happier."

"I doubt it. You came in at a very bad time, Tony."

"Why?" Now there was something that might become interesting…

Jazz smiled. "Need to know basis."

"I've got the highest clearance, Jazz," he reminded him.

"Unless Banachek clears you for this, you're not in on it."

Stark frowned. His interest was piqued. And he would find out what was going on here and what they had used to ground him.

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Bumblebee watched his charge and partner as Sam paced up and down his quarters. He was aware of Sam's headache and he knew where it came from. He also knew there was nothing he could do but be Sam's anchor, let the technopath balance his mind again. The quarters were large enough to accommodate a mech of Bumblebee's size, which made it easier for Bumblebee to be with Sam throughout that time.

"Sam?" he finally inquired gently. "What's wrong?"

"Aside from the headache?"

Bumblebee chuckled. "Yes?"

Sam sighed and stopped his pacing. "I know what I did was necessary because the bogey could have been anything. I know it was the fastest and cleanest solution. And I know I could have said no. What bothers me is what I felt with Stark -- again."

The mech gave him a curious look, optics flaring a little. "What?"

"I'm not sure. You know I met him before. When he and Prime talked. Back then it was something… like he was carrying a device and it gave off an emission I could receive. Today I felt it again. A lot stronger and more focused. I thought it was the suit. All those electronics and mechanical parts… and it's beautiful from a technopath's point of view. The construction is as sleek from the inside as it is to look at. Not quite on a Cybertronian level, though pretty damn cool." Sam shrugged, a bit embarrassed about his gushing. "But something powers it and that source is… amazing. I didn't take it out, just cut all the important nodes and cancelled some programs."

Sam had been in the background when Bumblebee and Jazz had brought in Iron Man. He had felt the power, it had teased his mind. After he had seen Tony Stark without the suit, the power had been still there, just as strong. It came from Stark himself, not the armor.

"It's in him, Bee. It's not the suit, it's inside Stark and that's what has me so confused! How can such an incredible source of power be inside his body?"

"Maybe you should ask?"

"He has no idea what I am."

"You could tell him."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. I think Banachek would have a fit. It's not like Stark's not involved in everything already, though… I think I have to talk to Tom. If my senses are correct and he's carrying something like a power source inside him, this will be an exchange of secrets, not just simple information."

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Pepper Potts stood in the silent mansion of her employer Anthony Edward Stark and wondered why it felt so wrong to be alone here. She was often alone. Tony was anywhere but where he was supposed to be, especially when it came to official appointments, scheduled meetings or just to sign something urgent. Pepper was his personal assistant; she organized his life and his business, and she covered his back. That was her main job.. She had been with Tony for long enough to know her boss's style, be it women or business or pleasure.

After Afghanistan, things had changed. Tony had changed. He had presented a completely new challenge to the strawberry blond woman, but she had adjusted – and she approved of the changes. That he had picked up crime-fighting as a new hobby still disturbed her. He was Iron Man and he wasn't super-human. He was a human being in a metal suit with high tech gadgets. He could get hurt, he had been hurt and he would be hurt again.

Pepper sighed and drew herself out of her thoughts. It was a perfect day outside the giant windows, the vista presented before her was incredible, like all the other days she had been in the living room. Tony's house was a marvel, a wonder of architecture, a wild dream and luxury in every detail. She didn't know who had designed it, only that for Tony Stark it was a tool. He used it, but it wasn't for enjoyment.

That was on a different level. That level was his workshop. There, underneath all the pretense and luxury, was a place he was himself. He let the genius out of the playboy suit. He worked in grimy shirts and stained jeans, he tinkered and puttered and built and experimented. She had once or twice… well, maybe more times… caught herself looking at the completely different man in the workshop, thinking of the many possibilities in his life. What he could have become if he hadn't inherited the company, hadn't grown up in wealth.

Her cell phone beeped and she activated the Bluetooth ear piece.

"Hello, Pepper," Colonel James Rhodes greeted her.

"Rhodey. How are you?"

"Could be better."

She knew that tone of voice and she knew the source of the slight frustration she detected in it.

"Has Tony left something as to where he is?" Rhodes asked.

"Personal time."

Which translated into 'testing the armor, don't ask'.

"I knew it." Another sigh. "Don't expect him back for a few days."

Pepper felt alarm spread through her. "What happened?"

"He trespassed, what else? Took his test flight up north and ended up on military grounds. Restricted area."

Pepper just barely refrained from sighing. Her boss was a synonym for trouble, but until two years ago it had been trouble with the media, women or cars.

"Do you need me to prepare anything?"

Rhodes snorted. "No. I can handle it. Just wanted to let you know. Cancel whatever he had scheduled."

"Of course."

Pepper closed the connection and allowed herself a sigh.

Being with Tony Stark was never boring, but sometimes she wished for a kind of normalcy. Still, she had consciously decided to leave the secretarial pool and take up the challenge that was this man, and so far she had never regretted it.

"What did you get yourself into this time?" she muttered as she walked out of the living room and headed for her office to see to it that Tony Stark didn't have to be anywhere personally for, oh, say, the next two weeks.

One never knew how long 'a while' was.

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When Tony Stark found out about his company's dealings with Sector Seven – now called Project – almost a hundred years of cooperation between his family and the secret organization had passed. It came as a mild shock to find Stark Industries involved with a secretive, black ops government group. It was quite more than just a shock to hear how deeply that involvement really ran.

Obadiah's treason had opened his eyes to a lot of things. Reality was a bitch. Money could buy a lot of things – luxury cars, luxury parties, luxury women -- but not invincibility, nor a good conscience, and Tony still saw the eyes of those suffering from his weapons.

By the time he had found out the truth about so many things, Sector Seven had been disbanded and reformed as Project. The Autobots had beaten the Decepticons at Mission City – he had never known about that fact either – and the government was hiding them in the Nevada desert. Apparently Stark Industries had helped supply them with materials needed and was processing the technology coming back from the alien life forms to integrate it slowly into everyday human use.

Tony had dug deep, had cracked files that he shouldn't even have known about, and he had discovered the truth behind so many things, not just his company's dealings. He knew about the reverse-engineering, the Allspark, the Hoover Dam facility, and he knew about the Autobots' presence.

He also knew about Vance Milhaus Lawson, one of the Original Seven who had founded Sector Seven over a century ago. Lawson had been his great-grandfather. He had never known the man. His grandfather Elias Lawson had stepped into the family shoes, it appeared, working for the secret group. Elias' daughter Maria had married a man called Howard Stark, who had incorporated technology derived from the Ice Man project into his company's inventions and own projects. The Manhattan Project had been heavily laced with Cybertron tech already.

Obadiah had known.

Tony had been kept in the dark.

Even now that knowledge could make him furious.

So when Tom Banachek had made a personal appearance at Stark Industries, he had been ready.

In the end Tony had made a rather good deal, in his eyes. He was officially 'in on the secret', he had the clearance, he was still supplying the good guys with the materials needed, and Stark Industries was the only manufacturer to work with Cybertronian tech.

Due to his many responsibilities, foremost Iron Man, Tony couldn't keep up on every detail. The Arctic Base he knew about, but not what it was for. He had figured the base would be ideal to work on the stealth problem, challenging himself to make the suit invisible to even Autobot radar, but that had really gone down the drain.

Now he was stuck in the Artic, no way out, and Rhodes had already read him the riot act. He had sounded truly pissed. Tony didn't want to think about Pepper's reaction. He would have to buy something really nice for her when he went back home.

Tony had found that the Arctic base was not really all that different from any other military installation he had been to. It missed all the creature comforts, was designed for purpose, not fun, and every other door was bolt-locked with high tech systems. It was a challenge to his active mind to try and break the codes, but he tried to be a good guest and not antagonize Banachek even more than he had already done by simply being here.

"Say, where's your better half?" he asked as he joined Jazz.

The Autobot smirked a little. "Not around or you'd be ashes."

Tony chuckled. He had met Barricade twice and both times the Decepticon had been his dark and foreboding self. He had never outright threatened anyone, but his looks were threatening enough. He knew how to take Jazz's comment. Barricade wasn't a pussy cat, but he wasn't a raving lunatic either. He had no kind of relation to the former Decepticon and Barricade had nothing but silent disdain for him. Perfect match.

"I didn't know you ever went without a shadow."

"It's been known to happen. Barricade's got business of his own to take care of."

"Like you guys have here?"

The blue optics flared a little with amusement. "Not giving up?"

"Hardly. I never do. How long do I have to be bored around here before you let me play too?"

"It's not up to me."

"Can't you put in a good word for me?"

"I already did. Banachek is currently talking to Prime about it."

"Oh. Right. Well…" Stark was a bit surprised.

He had met Optimus Prime on several occasions and the mech was a personality you couldn't help but be impressed with. Unlike all the other leaders and CEOs and power-hungry company chiefs, Prime didn't flaunt his power. He didn't have to. His calm voice, the deep timbre, and the quiet intelligence reflected in those deep blue optics did the rest. Not to mention this size, though somehow it was easy to forget that once you started talking with him. Tony had been sucked into the conversation with him, had spent hours discussing everything from life to weapons to war to friends to death and even to relationships with the mech leader. He hadn't really noticed the passage of time; it had been a shock when Optimus had announced he had to leave.

It had been then and there that Tony Stark had decided that whatever it took, Stark Industries would remain an ally of the Autobots. Today he knew all the mechs, even the one Decepticon among them, and he felt a strange pride at the fact that he did.

Jazz gave him a smile, then excused himself and walked off into the – for Stark – restricted area.

Left to his own devices, Tony wandered around a little, then drifted toward the mess hall to try the local cuisine. The soldiers and scientists there gave him brief, curious looks, then went back to their own food. Tony knew what he looked like. His face showed a colorful bruise over his left eye and one on his chin. His hair was tousled and he really needed a shower and shave.

Right now he didn't care.

Right now he wanted to know what the hell he had dropped in on.