ext_34821 ([identity profile] seanchai.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] cap_ironman2008-07-05 12:50 pm

Enter the Enchantress Part Two

Title: Classic-verse 1.4 - Enter the Enchantress Part Two
Authors: [livejournal.com profile] seanchai and [livejournal.com profile] elspethdixon
Rated: PG
Pairings: Hank/Jan. Eventually Steve/Tony.
Warnings: Slightly less fluff, but still fluffy, by our standards, anyway. No slash yet.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations depicted herein belong to Stan Lee and Marvel comics. No profit is being made off of this derivative work. We're paid in love, people.
Author's Note: AU concieved as a modern retelling of early Avengers. Of course, there are about six seasons planned, so it won't end up mirroring canon completely.
Summary: Iron Man's missing out on the action, while Steve and Tony can't sleep, and Thor's getting a visit from someone he wishes were a little bit less friendly.

As always, our thanks to [livejournal.com profile] tavella for the great beta job; this would be full of hideously embarrassing spelling errors if not for her.



Part Two



How could he have allowed them to deceive him thus? Now that his eyes had been opened, it was all so very clear.

The Avengers had played him for a fool. He should have known better than to put such trust in mortals he had only just met - after Loki's betrayal, he should have been more on his guard, less blindly trusting.

Loki had been treated as one of them, as much a prince of Asgard as Odin's own blood, and yet he had plotted Baldur's death. Thor had trusted him as a kinsman and comrade, and all the time, he had secretly plotted Asgard's downfall, a serpent in their midst who had sunk his fangs right into his little brother's heart. This betrayal was as nothing to that one.

Why did he find that it cut just as deeply?

He landed before the front gate of the Avengers Mansion with enough force that his boots left a spiderweb of crack in the pavement. Under normal circumstances, he would have exercised more care, but now it mattered not.

He raised his hammer and stepped forward, preparing to knock the heavy iron gates aside as he had the gates of many a frost giant's stronghold. There was a faint whirring of metal gears, and the gates began to open smoothly before him.

Of course, Thor realized, his anger deepening. The Avengers still believed him their unwitting pawn. The gates would be programmed to let him in automatically.

Thor smashed them down before they could swing more than halfway open. The Avengers' overconfidence was a mistake that they were shortly to learn the cost of. The god of thunder was no one's pawn.

"Come forth, you traitorous dogs!" Thor shouted, with enough force to make the windows rattle. "Your villainy shall go unopposed no longer!"

There was a pause, and then the front door opened, and Giant-Man came forth, with the Wasp but a step behind him. They both wore their human guises, concealing their true, monstrous, nature.

"What's going on, Goldilocks?" Giant-Man asked, feigning confusion with a truly diabolical skill. "Are we under attack?"

Thor's lips pulled back into a grim smile. "You are indeed," he said. "You have fooled me well, Giant, but I will play the fool no longer. Before the sun sets on this day, Mankind will be free of your evil."

Giant-Man blinked, still feigning confusion. "Wait, what?"

"Has something happened?" the Wasp stepped forward, around Giant-Man. Her disguise was nearly flawless; even this close, she still looked human. "What do you think we've done? We've been here all day, I swear. I think this is the first time Hank's left the lab since breakfast."

Thor ground his teeth, tapping Mjollnir against his palm once, twice, three times. They knew that he knew, and still they were treating him as if he were no threat. As if he were so blind and stupid that he would accept their excuses and return to being their docile pawn once more. "Silence!" Thor commanded. "I will listen to no more of your lies!" He had had his fill of honey-tongued liars pretending friendship long before he had left Valhalla.

He stepped forward, swinging mighty Mjollnir with all of the force he could muster. It was time to put an end to this.


***



"Holy hell," Hank shouted, already throwing himself to one side. "Duck!"

Jan did better than duck -- she shrank down, small enough that even Thor would have a hard time landing a blow, and took to the air. Thank god she'd started making point of wearing a costume under her clothes after the incident with the Human Top; the only way this situation could have become more absurd would be if she were forced to fight one of her teammates while naked.

She flew a quick loop around Thor's head, doing her best to distract him while Hank grew. Under normal circumstances, she would have used the opportunity to blast her opponent in the face with her sting, blinding him, but this was Thor. Even if he'd apparently gone crazy, she didn't want to hurt him.

Hank, now at twelve feet, threw a punch at Thor's face, catching him clean across the jaw. Thor didn't so much as blink; he simply grabbed Hank by the wrist and tossed him into the Mansion's wrought iron fence as easily as if he'd been Jan's size.

Hank shook his head once, then grabbed the top of the slightly-warped fence and used it to pull himself to his feet. "All right, Big Guy, you want play rough?" He grew another foot, stepping away from the fence, and Thor drew back his arm to throw his hammer.

Thor's eyes would get better. Hank wouldn't heal from being smashed into a pulp. Jan darted down to hover directly in front of Thor's face and blasted him with both hands.

Thor hissed in pain, flinching back, and brought his free hand up to rub at his eyes. Mjollnir lashed out blindly toward her, and Jan flitted easily out of its path. Success. That ought to buy them at least a few seconds.

"Calm down, gorgeous! It's us! We don't want to hurt you." Or, more accurately, she didn't want him to hurt them.

Hank had to be nearly twenty feet tall now, the largest she'd ever seen him reach. She had to admit, it was impressive, enough that she took a moment out of the fight to simply admire how powerful he looked.

Then Hank swayed, and sagged sideways into the fence, which now barely reached his hip. He went down on one knee, holding onto the metal with one giant hand, head bowed.

"Hank!" Jan flew towards him, abandoning the fight with Thor. He must have been hurt when he hit the fence. He'd hit it with enough force to bend the metal railing, and the wrought iron top had been worked into a long row of what resembled decorative spearheads. If he'd hit those...

"What in the name of God are you people doing?" Cap's face was a study in blank astonishment; he stood frozen in the middle of the open gate, staring at them all as if not sure whether this was serious or some form of prank being played at his expense. He was wearing a long trenchcoat, an artist's portfolio in one hand, and was completely unarmed.

"Cap, look out!" Jan yelled, "something's wrong with Thor. He just went crazy and started attacking us!"

Hank groaned, shaking his head again, and hauled himself to his feet, one hand on the top of the fence for balance. "Next time I try to grow to twenty feet after being tossed around like a human ping-pong ball, someone remind me not to."

Jan felt a rush of relief; Hank wasn't as badly hurt as she'd feared.

Her relief vanished as Thor began spinning his hammer again, working up momentum, and then released it at the top of its arc, hurling it straight at Cap. Cap, who might as well have been empty handed.

Cap dropped to one knee, holding the portfolio up before him in what must have been an instinctive gesture. Jan cringed inwardly, time seeming to freeze. She and Hank were too far away to intervene in time. Mjollnir would tear through the leather case and the art supplies inside it like paper.

Mjollnir struck the portfolio with a resounding clang, rebounding off it into the ground.

Jan blinked. The hammer's impact had torn a large, roughly circular hole in the portfolio, revealing the bright blue and white of the center of Cap's shield.

"All right, Mister," Cap said, bending to grasp Mjollnir's leather-wrapped handle, "I think were going to have to confiscate this until you calm down." He tugged at the handle, with absolutely zero result - it might as well have been glued to the ground.

"No mortal hand may wield the mighty Mjollnir," Thor said, taking a step towards Steve and holding out a hand. Mjollnir leaped from the ground, flying into his hand. Jan had seen it magically return to Thor's grasp dozens of times before, but the sight had never looked so ominous as it did at this moment.

Jan flew at his face, executing several quick loops around his head. She had to distract him, to give Hank and Cap a chance to overpower him.

If they even could. Thor could trade punches with the Hulk. And they'd sent their only other powerhouse away.

"Hold still, wicked little fairy," Thor snarled, making a grab for her that missed by less than an inch. And then Hank grabbed him by the cloak with one giant hand.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" he snapped. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Blondie?" He grabbed Thor's waist with his other hand, started to pick him up, only to drop him with a pained yell as Thor slammed Mjollnir into his right index finger.

Jan winced, hearing bone snap with a dull cracking sound.

Cap's shield, free of the damaged portfolio now, came arcing through the air towards Thor, who blocked it with the haft of his hammer.

The shield rebounded towards Cap, who plucked it out of the air easily. "You're not the only one who can do that trick," he said, with the faintest trace of satisfaction in his voice.

Jan flew at Thor again, her sting catching him on the shoulder, and then Thor's hand closed around her. "I have you now," he said triumphantly, fingers tightening around her. Her arms were pinned to her sides, rendering her sting useless. "If you care at all for your compatriot's life, you will explain your deceit. Now."

"What in hell's gotten into you, Thor?" Iron Man's familiar slightly hollow voice demanded from above them. "Put the lady down."

There was the whining crackle of a repulsor beam, and then Jan was abruptly released and beating her wings frantically to stay airborne. "I told you it was a bad idea to make him stay at home," she said, half-laughing with relief.

Cap shook his head, still looking confused and a little appalled. "Will someone please explain what's going on?"


***



Everyone was shouting at once, and none of it was making any sense.

"He just went crazy!" Hank waved one over-sized hand at Thor. "Yelling about us tricking him and all kinds of crazy stuff!"

"It is easy to explain," Thor bellowed. "I am no longer taken in by your trickery!"

"Next time I say something's a bad idea, are you going to listen to me?"

"What trickery?" Iron Man had landed directly in front of Thor, and was regarding him with a curious head-tilt. "Who told you we tricked you?"

"Everyone shut up!" Steve shouted, in the voice that he had until recently only used on battlefields. Surprisingly, they all did, even Thor. It was mildly gratifying. "Wasp." He pointed at Jan. "Explain this deceit and trickery is Thor going on about."

Jan shook her head, holding up her hands. "I've got nothing."

Steve blinked. "Oh."

Iron Man took a step closer to Thor; he was standing only a couple of feet away from him now, hands at his sides, as non-threatening as someone who looked like a faceless robot could look. "What trickery?" he repeated. "Why do you think we've deceived you?"

Thor regarded him with the sort of expression one reserved for people who had just asked particularly stupid questions. "Because you have," he snarled. He wasn't brandishing his hammer anymore, though, merely holding it. Steve couldn't blame him for that -- he was still holding his shield.

If this whole thing was some kind of elaborate practical joke the rest of them were staging at his expense, or a training exercise he hadn't been informed of, he was going to make them all very sorry. Combat scenarios were not a game. "You keep saying that," he said to Thor, keeping his voice calm with an effort. "Would you mind explaining exactly what we're supposed to have done."

"You played me false, concealing your true evil behind smiles and lies, pretending to be my brothers in arms while all the while you were plotting the destruction of humanity."

"I, um… what?" Hank shrank back to his usual size, folding his arms across his chest and wincing as the movement jarred his hand. "We were not!"

"He, the cousin of frost giants, hath eaten human flesh." Thor stabbed an accusing finger at Hank. "She, the Insect Queen, lays her eggs in human men, spawning horrors beyond recounting."

Jan laughed incredulously. "None of my dates have ever complained."

"You're not helping," Hank muttered, through gritted teeth. Jan fluttered over to sit daintily on his shoulder, swinging one foot back and forth.

"You know very well what it is that you have done," Thor went on, glaring at Steve. "And that, the thing you call 'Iron Man,' is naught but a soulless automaton built to serve the whims of his warmongering master."

"Soulless… I am not a robot!" Iron Man pulled off his left gauntlet, and held up a bare, very human hand. It was a nice hand, with long fingers. "My boss may be a warmongering man-whore," he went on, voice amused, "but I'm as human as the next guy." He wriggled his fingers for emphasis. "Human. Not robot."

Thor was frowning now, brows drawn together. "You're… not a robot."

"No," Iron Man said.

"Man-whore," Steve repeated slowly. He wondered if it meant what it sounded like it meant. Surely it couldn't. The way Iron Man talked about his boss sometimes… Tony Stark must be awfully familiar with his employees.

"Where on earth did you hear this load of claptrap, son?" he asked Thor, shaking his head.

"I am over two thousand years old. Do not call me son."

"No, I want to know, too." Jan fluttered down from Hank's shoulder, returning to full size as her feet hit the ground. "How did you learn about our, um, supposed betrayal?"

Thor frowned. "I find I cannot entirely recall the circumstances, but it seems to me that it was the Enchantress who told me of it." As Thor spoke, his face cleared, anger leaving to be replaced by a slightly embarrassed puzzlement.

"Who's the Enchantress?" Iron Man asked. He had put his gauntlet back on, and appeared at ease now, his casual stance no longer a pose maintained in an attempt to appear non-threatening.

"An Agardian sorceress," Thor said, his face darkening once more. "She has the power to compel men to do her bidding."

"Ah," Steve said, nodding, as several aspects of the fight he'd just walked in on finally fell into place. He had encountered mind control a few times before, during the war. People could be forced to act completely against their true nature. "She has the power to cloud men's minds?" he asked, thinking of the old radio show.

"And she told you what evil lurked in the hearts of the Avengers," Iron Man extemporized, waving a hand at the rest of the Avengers and matching Steve's reference to the beginning of The Shadow with one of his own.

"She filled my mind with things I know to be untrue," Thor agreed, brows drawing together in renewed anger. "Things I would never have believed without her influence."

"So you attacked us," Hank said, cradling his injured hand against his chest. "Thanks a lot. You broke my hand."

"I am acquainted with a mortal doctor whom I am sure would be most pleased to come and attend to your injuries," Thor said solemnly.

"Let me see that," Jan said, reaching out to take Hank's injured hand in both of hers.

"Ow," Hank yelped; he was starting to look a somewhat green around the gills, his face tense with pain. Steve sympathized; broken fingers were surprisingly painful for a comparatively minor injury. "Careful! I need those fingers."

Jan looked up from Hank's hand. "This one's definitely broken."

"I know," Hank snapped, pulling his hand protectively towards his chest again. "I felt it go crunch. And fingers aren't supposed to be at that angle."

"I am most sorrowful that I have injured you," Thor told him. "And most grateful to all of you for breaking the foul spell that imprisoned me before worse occurred. I owe you all a debt." He turned to Iron Man, adding, "Tell Tony Stark that Asgard will compensate him for the gate."

"Do you have any idea what she wanted?" Steve asked. The idea that there was someone out there who could manipulate Thor this way was more than a little disturbing. She might have simply been trying to get to Thor, the kind of petty personal vendetta that supervillains seemed to thrive on -- the Red Skull had been particularly good at it, during the war -- or this might be part of some larger plot against the Avengers. "Was this some kind of revenge against you?" Steve asked, "Or do you think this Enchantress has some greater plan to attack the Avengers?"

Thor shook his head, the gesture making sunlight glint off his helmet's metal wings. "No, I believe this was an Asgardian matter. She wished to gain from me the location of Loki's prison. When I would not tell her, she became angry, and laid this spell upon me as a punishment." He frowned, fingers tightening around the handle of his hammer. "The next time I encounter her, she will pay for this affront. I shall not leave her an opening to take such advantage of me again." He glanced around the Mansion's lawn, not-quite-wincing at the sight of the demolished gate, and then his gaze came to rest on Iron Man once more. "Iron Man, have you reconsidered your decision to take some time to yourself? Has your problem been dealt with satisfactorily?"

"Not entirely, but I got the security alert that something was wrong here."

"What happened to taking some time off?" Steve asked; it came out sounding like a challenge, which wasn't how he had intended it at all. He had missed Iron Man's presence around the Mansion, missed knowing that the other man would be there to back him up, to back the team up.

Jan shook her head, tossing her hair back from her face. "I, for one, am glad he showed up."

"You mean, because we were getting our asses kicked?" Hank asked. "I really need to practice this growing thing more," he went on, and then broke off, looking even greyer than before. "I think I need to sit down now."

Jan grabbed his arm, tugging him over to the steps and making him sit. "Maybe you should have Thor's doctor friend take a look at you."

Hank nodded, resting his head on his uninjured hand.

Iron Man shrugged. "You looked like you could use some help."

Steve found himself smiling, ridiculously pleased. "If whatever problems you had are dealt with, the rest of us would be happy to have you back." Except… Iron Man had said that they "technically" hadn't been solved. Steve didn't want to push him to come back if he wasn't ready; if nothing else, it could be dangerous. Today, he had shown up when they hadn't expected him, to offer much appreciated help. Next time, he might fail to show up when he was expected, and they had already seen how disastrous that could be.

He felt his smile faltering, and added, "You're sure there's nothing we can do to help?"

"You are our brother in arms," Thor agreed, "and we would be more than glad to provide what aid we can."

Iron Man shook his head. "Thanks, but it's not necessary. It was a technical problem." He hesitated, then said, with what sounded like embarrassment, "I ran out of power."

"Oh," Steve said. He had been picturing all kinds of scenarios, many of them involving the injuries he suspected that the armor might conceal. The equivalent of running out of gas hadn't been one of them.

Hank snorted, head still cradled in his hand. "I can see why you might not have wanted to admit to that."

"Remember the first time you shrunk down, before you designed the ant-man helmet, handsome?" Jan asked, smiling slightly. She was sitting next to Hank now, one hand on his shoulder. "And the ants almost ate you?"

"They were only defending their nest," he said. "I should have anticipated it. Like Iron Man probably should have anticipated running out of power."

"We could always tie a string around your finger," Steve suggested, in the most deadpan tone he could muster. It was a relief to know that Iron Man hadn't been putting some other unknown commitment ahead of the team, that he was as committed as ever to being an Avengers, and that he wasn't ill or injured. A relief to know that his "personal problem" wasn't something serious.

It also made Steve feel a little silly for having come down so hard on him before.

"The repulsors would destroy it," Iron Man countered, holding up one hand and making a show of inspecting it.

"Do not be certain," Thor said. "I could bring you a piece of the ribbon of Gleipnir, forged in Asgard by dwarven smiths and stronger than iron chains."

Iron Man shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Behind Hank and Jan, the Mansion's front door swung open, and Jarvis emerged. "I trust the commotion over now?" he asked, and then he caught site of the ruined gate. He turned to Iron Man. "What happened to the gate? It was original 19th century ironwork."

The operative word being "was," unfortunately. "I'm sure Mr. Stark can have it fixed as good as new," Steve offered.

"That," Jarvis said, still regarding Iron Man with disapproval, "is not the point."

"Please accept my apologies." Thor actually looked abashed, eyes sliding guiltily from Jarvis to the gate. Then he nodded at Hank. "I will go and fetch Dr. Blake to attend to your hand."

Iron Man regarded Jarvis for a moment, head titled slightly to one side. "You're not actually mad about the gate, are you?"

"Mr. Hogan informed me of what happened at the factory the other day."

"And after the boss swore him to secrecy and everything." Iron Man hesitated for a second, then, "It won't happen again?"

"I hope not," Steve said, struggling to keep a straight face. "We rely on Iron Man to have our backs. We're a better team when we're all working together."

"Certainly better than when we're attacking each other," Hank commented, grimacing as he tried to flex his fingers.

Jan stood, patting him on the shoulder. "All right, talking later. Fixing Hank's hand now."

Thor went to fetch this Dr. Blake of his, and the rest of them went inside. Despite the fact that they had just been attacked by one of their own teammates, and now knew that there was a potentially dangerous supervillain after Thor, Steve found himself feeling surprisingly cheerful.


***



Thor had really done a number on the gates, Tony reflected, as he surveyed the mess of warped and tortured metal. There wasn't a hope of repairing them; they'd have to be replaced.

He had promised Jarvis that he'd see to it, though, after yesterday's fight had ended.

After everyone had calmed down, Thor had left almost immediately, and only minutes later, a tall, thin blond man with a doctor's bag and a heavy limp had shown up outside the front gates, not so much as raising an eyebrow at the destruction. Thor must have flown to get him there so quickly.

He'd also presented Hank with an absolutely terrifying insect that he claimed came from the realm of the frost giants. Jan, upon seeing it, had shuddered in elaborate disgust and announced that it was the size of a human foot and Hank was absolutely not keeping it in the Van Dyne lab facilities. It was actually the size of a thumb, and given how often Jan rode around on Hank's flying ants, Tony suspected the complaint had been mostly for show. He had apparently already named it, though Tony hadn't heard what said name was yet.

Some people would probably have found that odd, but Tony named his lab equipment, so he understood. It often helped to have something to talk to while you worked.

"It started out as a detective show that he would narrate," Cap was saying, "and by the time I was in high school, it had turned into its own show. I liked it best when he was fighting the evil, psychic warlord." He poked desultorily at the twisted remnants of one of the decorative spikes. "This isn't fixable, is it?"

Tony shook his head, just remembering to make it a broad gesture; Cap wouldn't be able to see his expression through the helmet's faceplate. "Evil warlords with superpowers who think they're descended from Genghis Khan aren't all they're cracked up to be." He would gladly have traded the Mandarin for Shiwan Khan, though. The Shadow always seemed to have a much easier time defeating his arch-nemesis than Tony had had stopping the Mandarin's last attempt to take over and rule all of Asia.

He inspected what was left of the hinges, trying to determine how he was going to remove the gates without damaging the rest of the fence. He was going to have to cut through the bottom-most set of hinges. The top ones… maybe if he straightened out the gate around them, he might be able to un-hinge it without resorting to acetylene cutting tools.

It would be easiest to deal with the top of the gate while the bottom was still attached.

Tony reached out and took hold of the top of the gate with both hands, forcing the metal cross-bar into something approximating a straight line.

"Can I help?" Cap asked. "I feel pretty useless just standing here."

"Not yet. Just keep talking to me. It helps diminish the feeling that Mr. Stark is going to show up and belt me one for messing with his gates."

Cap frowned, leaning one shoulder against the undamaged fence. He had pushed his mask back, and his hair ruffled in a light breeze that Tony couldn't feel. It was always slightly startling to see him without the mask. You forgot, between opportunities to see his face, how classically handsome he was. "Didn't he specifically ask you to clear them away? I thought the two of you were on good terms."

"No, not Tony Stark." Tony threw all of the armor's augmented strength into pulling another metal bar out of the warped curve Thor had bent it into. "His father. Howard. He was in charge of the company until about three years ago. He was… difficult to work for. He was a hard man to please."

"I had a sergeant like that once," Cap offered, pulling a wry face. "I spent almost as much time peeling potatoes as I did fighting Nazis." He shook his head. "I must have been horrible to be in charge of. It didn't help that I knew I actually outranked him when I wasn't undercover, but that's no excuse for how insubordinate I probably was."

Tony listened silently, as he worked the first hinge open, the other hinges squealing in protest as it came loose and the extra weight settled on them. It was nice to have someone to talk to like this.

Cap was unexpectedly easy to talk to. Tony had never been much for casual conversation; he was used to giving directions to employees, and to schmoozing other businessmen or flirting, two things which he had never found to be that different. Sometimes the right kind of smile and a suggestion that you might be available later that evening was enough to get someone to view a deal as favorable. Just talking like this, with no underlying agenda, was new.

It wasn't like this when he was being Tony Stark. Not as easy, save for the middle of the night when he'd forgotten that he wasn't supposed to be Iron Man and stopped guarding his tongue... Iron Man was Cap's comrade in arms, as Thor would have put it; Tony Stark was just the guy who paid the bills.

"This fence must be the original art nouveau iron work," Cap commented after a while, running a hand lightly down one thick, metal bar. "It's going to be hard to find new gates that will harmonize with the rest of it."

Tony had moved on to the second set of hinges. Pulling them loose would take the armor's full strength, and he wouldn't be able to be delicate enough to avoid damaging the surrounding fence. "The boss will make new ones to match the fence. Can you hand me that acetylene torch?"

"He can do that?" Cap blinked, cocking his head slightly; he looked both curious and a little impressed. Or maybe that was just Tony's imagination. It would have been nice to think that Captain America might be impressed by something he could do, but more likely he was just surprised that someone like Tony Stark would take time out of his busy schedule to handle something like a simple repair job.

Tony realized belatedly that that Cap was holding the torch out to him, and took it. "It will be incredibly simplistic work, but I think it's going to be fun. Mr. Stark enjoys that kind of thing," he added, remembering his slip the other night.

It would be nice to have a chance to work with his hands, on something constructive. Since the car crash that had killed his… since his parents had died, he hadn't gotten to spend as much time in R&D or on the factory floor as he would have liked too -- when he wasn't being Iron Man, most of his time was spent running the company, half of it in board meetings with men who still thought he was a nineteen-year-old spoiled brat. Even worse were the ones who remembered him from when he was six, when his father used to bring him in occasionally to parrot facts about electronics in order to make the board feel stupid ("My six year old understands these designs. What is wrong with you people?").

The only thing he really got to play with these days was the armor. There were times when he thought he might have gone crazy with boredom without it.

"Where do you know about the Shadow from?" Cap asked, watching from a safe distance as Tony started to cut through the next hinge. He hadn't even had to warn him to stand back, out of the way of sparks. Some people had to be warned repeatedly, but Cap had just taken one look at what he was doing and stepped back a couple of paces. "I don't suppose it's still on the air?" he added, with a hopeful note in his voice. He paused. "Or is there a television show?"

"No." Tony didn't look up from what he was doing; Jarvis would kill him if he screwed this up. "But they've made a bunch of movies of it. MIT had some in their film library, and a couple of recordings of the old radio show in their music library, too."

"Oh," Cap said, sounding slightly disappointed. "I don't suppose they had The Midnight Racer? That one was even better. He fought crime with the help of an extremely fast car and a chauffeur who knew martial arts."

"I've never heard of that," Tony admitted. Then, because he couldn't help but ask, "What kind of car was it?"

"It was a custom built car. It had a machine gun that popped up out of the trunk, and little knives that came out of the hubcaps to slash other cars' tires."

That sounded… exactly like the kind of thing he would have loved when he was ten. He said as much, and Cap grinned at him.

"I'm glad you're back," Cap said, after Tony had worked in silence for a while, concentrating on cutting the gate, now off its hinges, into manageable pieces that could be carried away. "I'm sorry I lost my temper at you before."

"Don't be. There was no excuse for missing an alert like that." It had been unforgivably stupid of him not to be prepared, to have missed the corroded wires in his gauntlets, to have expended so much power in the fight with the saboteur that he'd had nothing left when the Avengers needed him. After all, what good was he, if he couldn't be effective either as Iron Man or as an Avenger? "I'm just glad I showed up in time this time, before Thor had a chance to smash anything else Mr. Stark would have had to fix."

"It wasn't his fault," Cap objected mildly. "Being controlled and manipulated like that must be pretty unpleasant."

Tony shuddered, glad the armor hid the evidence of just how much the idea creeped him out. "I don't know what I would do if it had been me," he said. "The armor could have caused a lot of damage."

"Asgardian family life must be interesting," Cap said. If it was a deliberate attempt to change the subject, Tony was grateful for it.

He grinned at Cap, though he knew Cap couldn't see it. The other man was still leaning against the gate, his eyes looking very blue as he grinned back. "And you haven't even heard him really go on about Loki yet," Tony said. "Let's just say that there's not going to be any mistletoe at this years' holiday party."

It was August now and Christmas was months away, but Tony suddenly found himself looking forward to it for the first time in a very long while. He had been joking about the idea of an Avengers' holiday party, but as soon as he mentioned it, he found himself wondering what it would be like to have a party over the holidays that wasn't an SI office function, a business event, or some dreadful society affair that was only bearable if you had plenty of alcohol at hand and someone attractive on your arm to distract you from all the people trying to make small talk.

"You guys have holiday parties? Last Christmas I was in northern France with an Allied tank battalion. It was just me and-" he broke off, smile faltering for a moment, then went on, "Spending it with the team sounds nice."

"Oh definitely. Mr. Stark's all about parties," Tony told Cap. "He wouldn't have it any other way." If he was lucky, he'd be able to get away from Tony Stark's social obligations long enough to attend as Iron Man. It wouldn't be hard to convince the others; Jan would jump on the idea as soon as he promised to let her do the decorating, Hank always did what Jan told him to, and Thor seemed like the kind of guy who would enjoy a party even if he didn't celebrate the particular holiday it was being held for. "As a matter of fact, we're having a Thanksgiving party, too."

Cap smiled at him, and Tony felt a ridiculous surge of pleasure all out of proportion with the reaction. "I'll look forward to it."

***


Part One

[identity profile] demon-faith.livejournal.com 2008-07-12 01:04 pm (UTC)(link)
My life, Tony's "Plan" is just so perfectly him! Because you just know that's exactly what he's thinking!