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cap_ironman2008-08-19 10:27 pm
smilingskull.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2008-08-19 10:27 pm
Entry tags:
Fic - Alternate Uses for Silverware
Sooo, this has been sitting on my computer for about a week and a half, and I've been trying to decide if I should post it or not, because it's so dang silly. I wrote it for myself essentially as a pick up after writing the depress-fest that was my last post. (The post-Civil War fic. You guys weren't the only ones tearing up, oh man! It's always a bad sign when there's so much angst in your own story that it gets to you.) However, my beta on that fic suggested I post something ridiculously happy as my next post, so what the heck.
If you've ever wanted to see what Pepper can do to a closet, what Tony acts like when he's actually gotten a normal amount of sleep, and what Luke Cage uses spoons for in emergency cases, look no further. And like I said, this is hella over-the-top goofy. I wrote it for fluffy fun. :)
Title: Alternate Uses for Silverware
Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Luke Cage, Danny Rand (Pepper and her handiwork are mentioned, but she's not actually in the fic.)
Rating: PG-13/R
Fandom: The Avengers, post-Extremis (Although the line-up for the team I have here is the New Avengers + Tony.)
Warnings: Nothin' really. Except for general silliness and mentions of sex.
Word Count: ~ 2,400
Disclaimer: No own, no profit. 'Tis all good.
Before this gets rolling, the sequel to "Gentlemen Prefer Blonds" is "But Gentlemen Marry Brunettes", for reference. It'll make sense later, I promise. :)
The reason Steve’s clothes eventually make it into Tony’s closet is because of Pepper. Both men mean to get around to it – they’ve assured Pepper of this on various occasions – but they never find the time to get around to it. They don’t usually have the luxury of lazy Saturdays that can be used for projects like that, and if they do, they spend those moments in time holed up in Steve’s apartment, doing things like watching badly dubbed kung fu movies and enjoying having time to themselves. (And other things Tony doesn’t like to admit. If the world knew he was a rather avid cuddler, his reputation would be blown to little tiny bits.) They don’t spend days like that moving clothes and various other possessions.
So Pepper takes charge. If it were not for Pepper Potts, Tony would have blown up the world ages ago, or possibly killed himself, or someone else. The clothes certainly would have never made it into the closet.
Which is why, one Tuesday morning at 6:45 AM, after a long flight home from Tokyo, Tony is standing in the middle of his obscenely large walk-in closet, trying to figure out when the hell he decided that plaid, or muscle t-shirts, were a good idea. He is more that certain he has never owned four separate pairs of military issue boots from various eras. And he does not own a duster that looks like something from the Matrix.
He supposes this is what happens when you leave over-stressed and micromanaged personal employees who have the keys to your penthouse alone for three days while you’re off in Asia. He realizes that Pepper’s also lined up his shoes correctly and organized all his dress shirts by color. He makes a metal note to give her a very, very long vacation somewhere like Cabo or Saint Martin. He wasn’t even aware he owned shirts in that many shades of plum. It’s creeping him out.
Tony hears the bedroom door open, and it can only be Steve back from his usual early morning run. Sure enough, from somewhere behind him a very familiar voice asks “Tony? Are you finally back from taking the Eastern world by storm?”
“In here.” He calls over his shoulder, still eyeing the array of shirts. He looks horrible in pale yellow. Why does he own a shirt that color? That doesn’t even really go with any of the suits and sport coats he owns.
“Are those my shoes?” Steve asks bewilderedly, coming up behind Tony.
“Yeah. Pepper moved all your stuff in here while I was gone. Either that or gnomes are responsible.” He says, turning to face Steve, who’s wearing one of those muscle shirts that Tony loves on him but would never own one of, and a rather deliciously short pair of jogging shorts that looked like they’d been around since the 80’s. Steve himself appears to be scrutinizing the closet with a sense of vague confusion.
“She’s good. She’s even got things done by color.” Steve notes. “Too good. Please give Pepper lots, and lots of time off before she starts sending out engagement notices and then planning a wedding? She’ll be filling out adoption papers in our names before next Tuesday rolls around.”
“We’re not engaged.”
“You honestly thing that’s going to stop her? She reorganized a closet the size of a small African nation in less than three days. She’s been stressed for months, you know.”
“It’s my fault. I hired Jillecca.”
“Jillecca? They have separate names. And I thought that was supposed to help her out, not stress her out even more.”
“She’s got nothing to do to keep her busy, Jillecca’s doing most of it now. You give Pepper more to do, the happier she gets. Well, she seems annoyed all the time, like when I first told her that her employment contract now had clauses about dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D. paperwork, Nick Fury phone calls, and helping extract me from my rather advanced tin can, but she’s happier. And less stressed. And does not organize my closet.”
They stand in silence for a few moments before Steve pulls Tony forward into a hug and Tony melts into him, heaving a sigh.
“Sorry for not saying ‘welcome home’ first thing.” Steve murmurs against Tony’s ear, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“’s ok. The closet is quite distracting at the moment.” Is Tony’s mumbled reply, into the shoulder of Steve’s shirt. Steve smells like he always does, although slightly less clean. Steve is the only person Tony knows who can run – not jog – for an hour every morning in the park and come home not totally drenched in sweat, just looking like he took a quick 10 minute jog out the front door and back.
“Please tell me you’ve actually gotten sleep in the last few days. You do not get nearly enough sleep.”
“I am happy to report that I slept a full twelve hours on the plane home, mom.”
Steve laughs, although he’s smiling, because he can’t remember the last time Tony actually managed to sleep for twelve hours in one go.
“Let’s go get coffee and tell Pepper she needs to get out of here and go somewhere like the south of France before she’s buying us a house in the Hamptons.” Steve slips away from Tony, leads him by the hands back out into the bedroom.
“I have a house in the Hamptons already.” Tony says simply, like this is a common thing for people to have. It’s the same tone he uses when saying things like ‘I had Marc design me a new suit for the event.’ Or ‘I can have the house in Dubai ready by tonight.’ Steve learned quite a while ago that he’s happier not thinking about how much money Tony has.
Tony plants his feet when they reach the middle of the room and instead pulls Steve back to him, manages to turn the movement into a kiss. If there is one thing Steve is exceptionally happy knowing about Tony, it’s how graceful he manages to be, and how excellent he is with his mouth. Exceptionally happy could possibly be an understatement.
Steve puts his hands on Tony’s hips, closes the last few inches between them, and Tony loops his hands around Steve’s neck, making some content little sound into the kiss that makes Steve smile.
“Next time I go to Tokyo for any longer than a day – which would be whenever I go to Tokyo – you’re coming with me.” Tony says when he breaks the kiss.
“I thought you had a thing for redheads you could drag half way across the globe.” Steve asks with a grin.
“Gentlemen prefer blondes.” Tony says simply, managing to raise a shoulder in a nonchalant little shrug.
“You do know what the sequel to that is called, right?”
“Yeah, but the good news is, I kinda like you.”
“I could dye my hair.”
“And then you’d look totally boring. I like blonde you.” Tony reaches up, runs a hand through Steve’s hair, plays with a few strands at the back of his neck.
“Well good, because I’m staying this way.”
Steve is the one who instigates the kiss this time, pushing up the back of Tony’s shirt and splaying his hands against Tony’s back. He can feel Tony’s hands dancing around the waist of his shorts, very obviously intent on getting them off. Steve starts walking them towards the door, pushes it open with his back, and Tony finally pulls away when they’re out in the hallway and they can hear Peter’s voice coming up the stairs.
“Wouldn’t want to traumatize the kids.” Tony says slyly, raising one of Steve’s hands to his lips and placing a kiss in his palm, taking two of Steve’s fingers deep in his mouth, against his tongue. Steve just has to laugh, (and attempt not to moan, what with how much attention Tony’s currently lavishing on his hand.) and Tony lets Steve’s fingers go, but they stay like that, with Steve’s one arm around Tony’s waist and Tony holding Steve’s other hand, like they’re about to dance.
“I don’t want to know.” Peter says with a grimace as he breezes past them, very intent on not looking in their direction.
“That mom and dad are having sex? Peter, my little biologist, I figure you would have figured out by now that’s how you happened.” Tony says serenely, leaning into Steve. Peter actually stops, turns to look at them, openly horrified. Tony’s got a hungry grin plastered on his face, Steve looks like he’s trying not to laugh, although he mouths a ‘sorry’ in Peter’s direction. Sorry as in, sorry Tony has just scarred you for life.
“Oh my god.” He turns on his heels, starts power walking down the hallway. “Luke! MJ! Someone! Someone who is not Tony and Cap having sex in the hallway!” He practically runs off, dashing into the nearest door.
“Are we having sex in the hallway?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but you have now scared Peter for life. If Spider-man says he’s abruptly retiring and moving somewhere very, very far away, I’m blaming you.” Steve laughs, and starts pulling Tony down the hallway by the waist again.
“Please tell me you’ve seen that ‘Spider-man has made you gay’ video on the Internet?” Tony asks gleefully. Steve is starting to find out that a fully rested Tony has way, way more energy and witty comebacks than a coffee and Red Bull sustained Tony. And possibly more need to jump Steve on the spot, if that’s even possible.
“Uh no, I have not. I’d like it to stay that way.” Steve swears he can see Tony’s eyes glowing with the prospect of torturing Peter more later. And possibly messing up the closet, and sending Pepper on extended leave, and then maybe inventing gravity in his lab. With a box of scraps. And perhaps having lots and lots of sex later, for added benefit.
“You are no fun!” Tony teases, and jumps down the steps ahead of Steve, waiting for him at the bottom.
“You are way too awake.” Steve shakes his head in amusement.
“You are going to love me when I’m this awake.” Tony says as he pulls Steve down off the last step of the stairs and into a hungry kiss.
“Awake and haven’t-had-sex-in-three-days.” Steve says between bits and pieces of kisses.
“Four and a half.” Tony growls. “Not that I’m counting.”
Steve is about to say something when they hear a voice at the top of the stairs.
“I now need to gouge my eyes out with a spoon, you bastards! A spoon! How am I going to fight crime with no eyes?” Peter sounds like he’s on the edge of a breakdown. “I never, ever, needed to see my parents doing unmentionable things to each other! Could you please stop? I really, really need to get down to the kitchen. I need breakfast. And a spoon. You know, to blind myself with.”
Steve wants to somehow give Peter a response that will reassure him that he does not need to spoon out his eyes or run away to Siberia, but instead Tony’s mouth decides it’s got other plans, and he walks Steve backwards to the couch, so that both of them fall over the back onto the seat in a tangle of limbs. Steve lets his head fall back, because he has really got to laugh. He should be totally horrified, but Steve knows that Tony’s just doing this to traumatize Peter, and it’s working rather well.
Sure enough, there’s an ‘Eeep!’ from the steps a few seconds later. Tony hoists himself up far enough to see Peter crawling across the wall, evidently trying to get to the kitchen without actually touching the floor. He drops down by the open arch into the kitchen and goes scurrying through the opening screaming for Luke or Danny.
“Did he seriously just do something spider-like just to get the kitchen?” Steve asks breathlessly, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Yep.” Tony says happily, looking like the cat that caught the canary. He shifts, and manages to catch Steve in such a way that makes his breath hitch.
They meet halfway, and for once, Steve does not care that they are on the couch in the middle of the living room, and not in a bed behind a closed door. Tony’s not the only one feeling the four and a half days.
Steve’s managed to wrangle Tony’s shirt all the way up to his armpits and is working on getting it totally off when they’re suddenly drenched in a shower of spoons.
“Don’t make me dump the whole fucking silverware drawer on your heads, morons. Get a fucking room, alright? You’re scaring the kids.” Luke is standing over them, hands balled on his hips. Steve and Tony can see Danny and Peter poking their heads around the edge of the arch into the kitchen.
“Sorry.” Steve clears his throat, and knows he’s blushing now.
“You’re actin’ like Drew dumped her powers all over you guys.” Luke says sternly, eyeing them both. Tony is reminded vaguely of his fifth grade teacher. “Now get. Or come eat breakfast. Just don’t stay here swapping spit on the couch.”
“Right, going.” Steve pushes Tony up, his mortification now in full swing. Another thing to add to his list of ‘Things Not To Let Tony Do ‘ (Pepper has one too) was, evidently, let Tony Stark seduce him in the living room at seven in the morning on a weekday with the rest of the team around.
By the time they actually shut the bedroom door behind them, it’s 7:05. No one sees them until noon, although the power fluctuates from time to time. From roughly 8:34 until 9:02, Peter and Danny end up taking out the rest of the silverware, and using the knives and forks, utilize Steve and Tony’s door for target practice.
There’s a new door in place by the next morning, and Tony’s got a few awesome marks going on his collarbones.
Pepper’s also half way to the Caribbean on Tony’s private jet, with Happy in tow and the promise that she’ll get to do all sorts of work and harass Nick Fury when she gets home.
If you've ever wanted to see what Pepper can do to a closet, what Tony acts like when he's actually gotten a normal amount of sleep, and what Luke Cage uses spoons for in emergency cases, look no further. And like I said, this is hella over-the-top goofy. I wrote it for fluffy fun. :)
Title: Alternate Uses for Silverware
Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Luke Cage, Danny Rand (Pepper and her handiwork are mentioned, but she's not actually in the fic.)
Rating: PG-13/R
Fandom: The Avengers, post-Extremis (Although the line-up for the team I have here is the New Avengers + Tony.)
Warnings: Nothin' really. Except for general silliness and mentions of sex.
Word Count: ~ 2,400
Disclaimer: No own, no profit. 'Tis all good.
Before this gets rolling, the sequel to "Gentlemen Prefer Blonds" is "But Gentlemen Marry Brunettes", for reference. It'll make sense later, I promise. :)
The reason Steve’s clothes eventually make it into Tony’s closet is because of Pepper. Both men mean to get around to it – they’ve assured Pepper of this on various occasions – but they never find the time to get around to it. They don’t usually have the luxury of lazy Saturdays that can be used for projects like that, and if they do, they spend those moments in time holed up in Steve’s apartment, doing things like watching badly dubbed kung fu movies and enjoying having time to themselves. (And other things Tony doesn’t like to admit. If the world knew he was a rather avid cuddler, his reputation would be blown to little tiny bits.) They don’t spend days like that moving clothes and various other possessions.
So Pepper takes charge. If it were not for Pepper Potts, Tony would have blown up the world ages ago, or possibly killed himself, or someone else. The clothes certainly would have never made it into the closet.
Which is why, one Tuesday morning at 6:45 AM, after a long flight home from Tokyo, Tony is standing in the middle of his obscenely large walk-in closet, trying to figure out when the hell he decided that plaid, or muscle t-shirts, were a good idea. He is more that certain he has never owned four separate pairs of military issue boots from various eras. And he does not own a duster that looks like something from the Matrix.
He supposes this is what happens when you leave over-stressed and micromanaged personal employees who have the keys to your penthouse alone for three days while you’re off in Asia. He realizes that Pepper’s also lined up his shoes correctly and organized all his dress shirts by color. He makes a metal note to give her a very, very long vacation somewhere like Cabo or Saint Martin. He wasn’t even aware he owned shirts in that many shades of plum. It’s creeping him out.
Tony hears the bedroom door open, and it can only be Steve back from his usual early morning run. Sure enough, from somewhere behind him a very familiar voice asks “Tony? Are you finally back from taking the Eastern world by storm?”
“In here.” He calls over his shoulder, still eyeing the array of shirts. He looks horrible in pale yellow. Why does he own a shirt that color? That doesn’t even really go with any of the suits and sport coats he owns.
“Are those my shoes?” Steve asks bewilderedly, coming up behind Tony.
“Yeah. Pepper moved all your stuff in here while I was gone. Either that or gnomes are responsible.” He says, turning to face Steve, who’s wearing one of those muscle shirts that Tony loves on him but would never own one of, and a rather deliciously short pair of jogging shorts that looked like they’d been around since the 80’s. Steve himself appears to be scrutinizing the closet with a sense of vague confusion.
“She’s good. She’s even got things done by color.” Steve notes. “Too good. Please give Pepper lots, and lots of time off before she starts sending out engagement notices and then planning a wedding? She’ll be filling out adoption papers in our names before next Tuesday rolls around.”
“We’re not engaged.”
“You honestly thing that’s going to stop her? She reorganized a closet the size of a small African nation in less than three days. She’s been stressed for months, you know.”
“It’s my fault. I hired Jillecca.”
“Jillecca? They have separate names. And I thought that was supposed to help her out, not stress her out even more.”
“She’s got nothing to do to keep her busy, Jillecca’s doing most of it now. You give Pepper more to do, the happier she gets. Well, she seems annoyed all the time, like when I first told her that her employment contract now had clauses about dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D. paperwork, Nick Fury phone calls, and helping extract me from my rather advanced tin can, but she’s happier. And less stressed. And does not organize my closet.”
They stand in silence for a few moments before Steve pulls Tony forward into a hug and Tony melts into him, heaving a sigh.
“Sorry for not saying ‘welcome home’ first thing.” Steve murmurs against Tony’s ear, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“’s ok. The closet is quite distracting at the moment.” Is Tony’s mumbled reply, into the shoulder of Steve’s shirt. Steve smells like he always does, although slightly less clean. Steve is the only person Tony knows who can run – not jog – for an hour every morning in the park and come home not totally drenched in sweat, just looking like he took a quick 10 minute jog out the front door and back.
“Please tell me you’ve actually gotten sleep in the last few days. You do not get nearly enough sleep.”
“I am happy to report that I slept a full twelve hours on the plane home, mom.”
Steve laughs, although he’s smiling, because he can’t remember the last time Tony actually managed to sleep for twelve hours in one go.
“Let’s go get coffee and tell Pepper she needs to get out of here and go somewhere like the south of France before she’s buying us a house in the Hamptons.” Steve slips away from Tony, leads him by the hands back out into the bedroom.
“I have a house in the Hamptons already.” Tony says simply, like this is a common thing for people to have. It’s the same tone he uses when saying things like ‘I had Marc design me a new suit for the event.’ Or ‘I can have the house in Dubai ready by tonight.’ Steve learned quite a while ago that he’s happier not thinking about how much money Tony has.
Tony plants his feet when they reach the middle of the room and instead pulls Steve back to him, manages to turn the movement into a kiss. If there is one thing Steve is exceptionally happy knowing about Tony, it’s how graceful he manages to be, and how excellent he is with his mouth. Exceptionally happy could possibly be an understatement.
Steve puts his hands on Tony’s hips, closes the last few inches between them, and Tony loops his hands around Steve’s neck, making some content little sound into the kiss that makes Steve smile.
“Next time I go to Tokyo for any longer than a day – which would be whenever I go to Tokyo – you’re coming with me.” Tony says when he breaks the kiss.
“I thought you had a thing for redheads you could drag half way across the globe.” Steve asks with a grin.
“Gentlemen prefer blondes.” Tony says simply, managing to raise a shoulder in a nonchalant little shrug.
“You do know what the sequel to that is called, right?”
“Yeah, but the good news is, I kinda like you.”
“I could dye my hair.”
“And then you’d look totally boring. I like blonde you.” Tony reaches up, runs a hand through Steve’s hair, plays with a few strands at the back of his neck.
“Well good, because I’m staying this way.”
Steve is the one who instigates the kiss this time, pushing up the back of Tony’s shirt and splaying his hands against Tony’s back. He can feel Tony’s hands dancing around the waist of his shorts, very obviously intent on getting them off. Steve starts walking them towards the door, pushes it open with his back, and Tony finally pulls away when they’re out in the hallway and they can hear Peter’s voice coming up the stairs.
“Wouldn’t want to traumatize the kids.” Tony says slyly, raising one of Steve’s hands to his lips and placing a kiss in his palm, taking two of Steve’s fingers deep in his mouth, against his tongue. Steve just has to laugh, (and attempt not to moan, what with how much attention Tony’s currently lavishing on his hand.) and Tony lets Steve’s fingers go, but they stay like that, with Steve’s one arm around Tony’s waist and Tony holding Steve’s other hand, like they’re about to dance.
“I don’t want to know.” Peter says with a grimace as he breezes past them, very intent on not looking in their direction.
“That mom and dad are having sex? Peter, my little biologist, I figure you would have figured out by now that’s how you happened.” Tony says serenely, leaning into Steve. Peter actually stops, turns to look at them, openly horrified. Tony’s got a hungry grin plastered on his face, Steve looks like he’s trying not to laugh, although he mouths a ‘sorry’ in Peter’s direction. Sorry as in, sorry Tony has just scarred you for life.
“Oh my god.” He turns on his heels, starts power walking down the hallway. “Luke! MJ! Someone! Someone who is not Tony and Cap having sex in the hallway!” He practically runs off, dashing into the nearest door.
“Are we having sex in the hallway?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but you have now scared Peter for life. If Spider-man says he’s abruptly retiring and moving somewhere very, very far away, I’m blaming you.” Steve laughs, and starts pulling Tony down the hallway by the waist again.
“Please tell me you’ve seen that ‘Spider-man has made you gay’ video on the Internet?” Tony asks gleefully. Steve is starting to find out that a fully rested Tony has way, way more energy and witty comebacks than a coffee and Red Bull sustained Tony. And possibly more need to jump Steve on the spot, if that’s even possible.
“Uh no, I have not. I’d like it to stay that way.” Steve swears he can see Tony’s eyes glowing with the prospect of torturing Peter more later. And possibly messing up the closet, and sending Pepper on extended leave, and then maybe inventing gravity in his lab. With a box of scraps. And perhaps having lots and lots of sex later, for added benefit.
“You are no fun!” Tony teases, and jumps down the steps ahead of Steve, waiting for him at the bottom.
“You are way too awake.” Steve shakes his head in amusement.
“You are going to love me when I’m this awake.” Tony says as he pulls Steve down off the last step of the stairs and into a hungry kiss.
“Awake and haven’t-had-sex-in-three-days.” Steve says between bits and pieces of kisses.
“Four and a half.” Tony growls. “Not that I’m counting.”
Steve is about to say something when they hear a voice at the top of the stairs.
“I now need to gouge my eyes out with a spoon, you bastards! A spoon! How am I going to fight crime with no eyes?” Peter sounds like he’s on the edge of a breakdown. “I never, ever, needed to see my parents doing unmentionable things to each other! Could you please stop? I really, really need to get down to the kitchen. I need breakfast. And a spoon. You know, to blind myself with.”
Steve wants to somehow give Peter a response that will reassure him that he does not need to spoon out his eyes or run away to Siberia, but instead Tony’s mouth decides it’s got other plans, and he walks Steve backwards to the couch, so that both of them fall over the back onto the seat in a tangle of limbs. Steve lets his head fall back, because he has really got to laugh. He should be totally horrified, but Steve knows that Tony’s just doing this to traumatize Peter, and it’s working rather well.
Sure enough, there’s an ‘Eeep!’ from the steps a few seconds later. Tony hoists himself up far enough to see Peter crawling across the wall, evidently trying to get to the kitchen without actually touching the floor. He drops down by the open arch into the kitchen and goes scurrying through the opening screaming for Luke or Danny.
“Did he seriously just do something spider-like just to get the kitchen?” Steve asks breathlessly, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Yep.” Tony says happily, looking like the cat that caught the canary. He shifts, and manages to catch Steve in such a way that makes his breath hitch.
They meet halfway, and for once, Steve does not care that they are on the couch in the middle of the living room, and not in a bed behind a closed door. Tony’s not the only one feeling the four and a half days.
Steve’s managed to wrangle Tony’s shirt all the way up to his armpits and is working on getting it totally off when they’re suddenly drenched in a shower of spoons.
“Don’t make me dump the whole fucking silverware drawer on your heads, morons. Get a fucking room, alright? You’re scaring the kids.” Luke is standing over them, hands balled on his hips. Steve and Tony can see Danny and Peter poking their heads around the edge of the arch into the kitchen.
“Sorry.” Steve clears his throat, and knows he’s blushing now.
“You’re actin’ like Drew dumped her powers all over you guys.” Luke says sternly, eyeing them both. Tony is reminded vaguely of his fifth grade teacher. “Now get. Or come eat breakfast. Just don’t stay here swapping spit on the couch.”
“Right, going.” Steve pushes Tony up, his mortification now in full swing. Another thing to add to his list of ‘Things Not To Let Tony Do ‘ (Pepper has one too) was, evidently, let Tony Stark seduce him in the living room at seven in the morning on a weekday with the rest of the team around.
By the time they actually shut the bedroom door behind them, it’s 7:05. No one sees them until noon, although the power fluctuates from time to time. From roughly 8:34 until 9:02, Peter and Danny end up taking out the rest of the silverware, and using the knives and forks, utilize Steve and Tony’s door for target practice.
There’s a new door in place by the next morning, and Tony’s got a few awesome marks going on his collarbones.
Pepper’s also half way to the Caribbean on Tony’s private jet, with Happy in tow and the promise that she’ll get to do all sorts of work and harass Nick Fury when she gets home.