There used to be an actual, honest to God list of people he didn't like--terrorists, some foreign dictators, couple House Democrats who used to get up in his face, couple Senate Republicans who turned on him once he stopped the military contracts, half a dozen pop stars he really just can't stand and not just because he slept with them, and Wesley Crusher, but Hammer was such a dickly little tool he'd never even merited mention.

Pepper had . . . extensive files, lists, graphs, for fuck's sake, annotated inventories of everyone he'd ever fucked fought bought from sold to glanced at with passing interest; she had a color coded index of his motherfucking ties, and Tony had never realized that this was how she'd done the job until the day she wasn't there to do it any more.

That day, Tony didn't need a list; there was now only one person on it.