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cap_ironman2008-09-16 11:03 pm
music-est-vita.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2008-09-16 11:03 pm
Entry tags:
Chapter 3
Author: ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
music_est_vita
Betas (and purple prose machines): bitchy_merlin, and moonangelchan: without these two, this would not be possible.
Title: The Cowboy and The Socialite (3/8)
Rating: Pg-13
Genre: Harlequin Romance
Italics indicate thoughts.
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me and I'm not making any money off of them, Marvel is.
Summary: Two years after the American Civil War, the rich, young, spoiled socialite Tony Stark is sent away to the Avengers Ranch by his father. While he is there to "learn to be a man", he meets a group of Civil War veterans his father employs. He catches the eye of one Captain Steve Rogers, who wants to know the secret Tony is hiding behind his eyes.
Warnings: AU, cheese.
Chapter One: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/92673.html#cutid1
Tony stood, backed up against a wall like a caged tiger. He repeated in his head please don't let her see me. Oh Lord, do not let her see me. But his thought was ended abruptly by a piercing, uneven voice questioning, rather like the squeak of rusty hinges, "Goodness me, Miss Van Dyne, isn't that the young Mister Stark?" A young girl, dressed in the latest fashions and wearing an expression of confusion befitting most simpletons trilled this comment towards a group of similarly well-off women.
Tony's face slid into his all too familiar social mask, a gracious smile which never met his eyes. Goddamn it! was all he could think as he scrambled to remember which of the eligible women his father had paraded before him like prize cattle was Miss Van Dyne. He had seen this group of women, dressed up and strutting around town like peacocks, and hid like a muskrat in its burrow. Why did I volunteer to do this week's run into town? He asked himself, his previous childlike excitement about getting new tools and materials for his latest project forgotten.
As he walked towards the gaggle of women, Tony was hit by a staggering, brilliant, blindingly bright epiphany. An epiphany so poignant that his world rocked on its axis. Jan Van Dyne! She was sent into exile as well! If I could just remember what caused her father to send her out here . . . I'm fairly sure I don't hate her. One of the women stood out to him. Her shockingly short hair didn't quite reach her shoulders, falling an inch short. She was a brunette, although, I prefer blonds. Blonds with big arms and broad chests, blonds who are built like Adonis, or some other Greek god -- right. Enough of that. Her dress was attractive, and well made, but not nearly as elaborately gaudy, or as hideous as the others', and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Tony Stark, did your father send you away for having too much fun?" she teased tauntingly, her vivacious voice full of mirth, laughter, and joie de vivre.
Tony finally remembered Miss Van Dyne's astounding story - something about her designing clothes for a bordello down on 31st street. "Why, is that what your father did?" Tony shot back at her, his false smile becoming a slight smirk. He had been to the bordello, and while scantily dressed women always took second place to scantily dressed men, Tony had been impressed. With all of his engineering skills, he still couldn't figure out how their costumes - clothing was too strong a word - had stayed on.
Without losing a beat, Jan replied: "You can take the girl away from the fun, but you can't take the fun away from the girl. I'm having a get together at my house in two days; you should come. I heard you were staying at your father's ranch: bring some cowboys - you can never have too many good looking men around!" With this, she winked lasciviously and looked at him expectantly.
Tony looked at her, slightly bemused, like a baby bear lost in the woods and missing its mother. Confusion painted the deep depths of his rich chocolaty brown eyes, as he replied in a breathy yet wary voice: "Oh, I'll come all right - but how did you know about the ranch?"
Jan grinned winningly and responded, "Oh, my father mentioned it in a letter regarding my lack of any suitable suitors. You're wealthy, handsome, wealthy, smart, wealthy, and you come from a good family. Did I mention that you're wealthy? My father certainly did. He seems to think we'd be a good match." With this she made a face reminiscent of a child being forced to take medicine, or sit through a boring party that their parents were throwing. Enlightenment struck with a brutal uppercut as Tony remembered that expression. He had seen it a few times as a child, and it was always followed by epic amounts of mischief. He and Jan had rarely been at the same parties as children: one of them was often left behind by their parents because of some misbehaviour, or perceived slight (which was more often the case with Tony).
"My father said something along those lines regarding you as well. What time should I show up? You're staying at your country house, correct? I'll assume that's where this gathering will be held." Tony had a small smile on his face - he finally had something to look forward to! That thought warmed the cockles of his cold and miserable heart, which was a lot to say, considering how cold his heart was - cold as arctic air in the middle of winter. Jan told him to drop by after dark, and mentioned some other guests from the city would be there, but didn't tell him who. She, and the gaggle of airheads who followed her like ducklings, left. Watching her shapely retreating figure cut a swath through the crowd, Tony remembered something else about Ms. Van Dyne.
He remembered how, when she was younger, she was forever getting into trouble for her unmaidenly interest in her father's work, and how, as she got older, she had shown a clear disinterest in his suitable suitors. Her father was always trying to arrange marriages with men from proper families, and she was always doing something impish to ruin the attempts. She's not half as bad as those girls following her, Tony thought. If they giggle like that at the party, I think I might change my mind about violent, bloody, gory murder. Out of all the people my father has picked out, she would be tolerable: I could see her being a good friend, but whoever marries her had better be ready to live adventurously.
*coughcough*Hank Pym*coughcough*
music_est_vitaBetas (and purple prose machines): bitchy_merlin, and moonangelchan: without these two, this would not be possible.
Title: The Cowboy and The Socialite (3/8)
Rating: Pg-13
Genre: Harlequin Romance
Italics indicate thoughts.
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me and I'm not making any money off of them, Marvel is.
Summary: Two years after the American Civil War, the rich, young, spoiled socialite Tony Stark is sent away to the Avengers Ranch by his father. While he is there to "learn to be a man", he meets a group of Civil War veterans his father employs. He catches the eye of one Captain Steve Rogers, who wants to know the secret Tony is hiding behind his eyes.
Warnings: AU, cheese.
Chapter One: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/92673.html#cutid1
Chapter Two: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/103414.html#cutid1
Tony stood, backed up against a wall like a caged tiger. He repeated in his head please don't let her see me. Oh Lord, do not let her see me. But his thought was ended abruptly by a piercing, uneven voice questioning, rather like the squeak of rusty hinges, "Goodness me, Miss Van Dyne, isn't that the young Mister Stark?" A young girl, dressed in the latest fashions and wearing an expression of confusion befitting most simpletons trilled this comment towards a group of similarly well-off women.
Tony's face slid into his all too familiar social mask, a gracious smile which never met his eyes. Goddamn it! was all he could think as he scrambled to remember which of the eligible women his father had paraded before him like prize cattle was Miss Van Dyne. He had seen this group of women, dressed up and strutting around town like peacocks, and hid like a muskrat in its burrow. Why did I volunteer to do this week's run into town? He asked himself, his previous childlike excitement about getting new tools and materials for his latest project forgotten.
As he walked towards the gaggle of women, Tony was hit by a staggering, brilliant, blindingly bright epiphany. An epiphany so poignant that his world rocked on its axis. Jan Van Dyne! She was sent into exile as well! If I could just remember what caused her father to send her out here . . . I'm fairly sure I don't hate her. One of the women stood out to him. Her shockingly short hair didn't quite reach her shoulders, falling an inch short. She was a brunette, although, I prefer blonds. Blonds with big arms and broad chests, blonds who are built like Adonis, or some other Greek god -- right. Enough of that. Her dress was attractive, and well made, but not nearly as elaborately gaudy, or as hideous as the others', and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Tony Stark, did your father send you away for having too much fun?" she teased tauntingly, her vivacious voice full of mirth, laughter, and joie de vivre.
Tony finally remembered Miss Van Dyne's astounding story - something about her designing clothes for a bordello down on 31st street. "Why, is that what your father did?" Tony shot back at her, his false smile becoming a slight smirk. He had been to the bordello, and while scantily dressed women always took second place to scantily dressed men, Tony had been impressed. With all of his engineering skills, he still couldn't figure out how their costumes - clothing was too strong a word - had stayed on.
Without losing a beat, Jan replied: "You can take the girl away from the fun, but you can't take the fun away from the girl. I'm having a get together at my house in two days; you should come. I heard you were staying at your father's ranch: bring some cowboys - you can never have too many good looking men around!" With this, she winked lasciviously and looked at him expectantly.
Tony looked at her, slightly bemused, like a baby bear lost in the woods and missing its mother. Confusion painted the deep depths of his rich chocolaty brown eyes, as he replied in a breathy yet wary voice: "Oh, I'll come all right - but how did you know about the ranch?"
Jan grinned winningly and responded, "Oh, my father mentioned it in a letter regarding my lack of any suitable suitors. You're wealthy, handsome, wealthy, smart, wealthy, and you come from a good family. Did I mention that you're wealthy? My father certainly did. He seems to think we'd be a good match." With this she made a face reminiscent of a child being forced to take medicine, or sit through a boring party that their parents were throwing. Enlightenment struck with a brutal uppercut as Tony remembered that expression. He had seen it a few times as a child, and it was always followed by epic amounts of mischief. He and Jan had rarely been at the same parties as children: one of them was often left behind by their parents because of some misbehaviour, or perceived slight (which was more often the case with Tony).
"My father said something along those lines regarding you as well. What time should I show up? You're staying at your country house, correct? I'll assume that's where this gathering will be held." Tony had a small smile on his face - he finally had something to look forward to! That thought warmed the cockles of his cold and miserable heart, which was a lot to say, considering how cold his heart was - cold as arctic air in the middle of winter. Jan told him to drop by after dark, and mentioned some other guests from the city would be there, but didn't tell him who. She, and the gaggle of airheads who followed her like ducklings, left. Watching her shapely retreating figure cut a swath through the crowd, Tony remembered something else about Ms. Van Dyne.
He remembered how, when she was younger, she was forever getting into trouble for her unmaidenly interest in her father's work, and how, as she got older, she had shown a clear disinterest in his suitable suitors. Her father was always trying to arrange marriages with men from proper families, and she was always doing something impish to ruin the attempts. She's not half as bad as those girls following her, Tony thought. If they giggle like that at the party, I think I might change my mind about violent, bloody, gory murder. Out of all the people my father has picked out, she would be tolerable: I could see her being a good friend, but whoever marries her had better be ready to live adventurously.
When Tony got back to the ranch, he decided to delay his current project (figuring out how to easily and surreptitiously transport his "Iron Man" suit) in favour of his current favourite activity in the history of the world: ogling a certain captain; a certain blond, well built, handsome captain whose dreamy-eyed cerulean gaze made Tony weak in the knees. Said captain was currently herding a bunch of calves and their mothers, sitting astride a chestnut mare called Marvel. A few nights previous, Steve had ventured out into a howling storm, a storm so gigantic and uproarious that it was as if Zeus had brought down all his wrath upon the earth, to save some pitifully helpless, and feeble calves. Now, here he stood, tall and straight as an oak tree in a storm whose wild and whirling winds had knocked over all the other men.
Steve as an oak tree, it fits... Oak trees are strong, tall, with roots keeping them well grounded, and like all trees they endure winter, becoming cold and barren only to become joyful and full of life in the summer. Steve is strong, tall, and good looking, with nice eyes and he has a cute.... Once again Tony's thoughts began to stray towards the gutter, and he shook his head to continue with his comparison. Steve is well grounded; he doesn't jump from one thing to another quickly, and when he talks about fighting in the war, his voice gets cold and the crystalline light in his beautiful eyes goes out. But when he talks in his deep, manly voice about the calves he has just saved, his dazzling sapphire eyes sparkle with a love of life. Why is it that I can't talk to him? Any time he's around, my mind goes blank as a sheet of paper and I can't breathe properly, let alone speak! I have no idea what to talk to him about - I mean, he's a war hero and I'm just the spoiled son of a weapons manufacturer. What could I ever have to say to him? How could I ever be worthy of his delicious company? And it doesn't help that he's just so damn distracting, it makes it hard to keep my thoughts in line. Although, if Steve really didn't want people thinking about his cute bum he would not wear those tight, tight leather pants. Goddammit.
Steve could feel Tony's lovely eyes on him, but he didn't look back at Tony, knowing it might scare him off like a deer in the woods. He had realised that Tony had a uncanny fascination with him, one that Steve didn't quite understand, and it left him feeling like a fish out of water; he had no idea what to do in such a situation. Tony would watch Steve whenever he got the chance, but when he talked to Steve it was mostly superficial conversation. It was like Tony wanted to become Steve's friend, but he didn't know how. Which made even less sense to Steve. Considering who Tony is, making friends should come easily to him. On the other hand, he must have a lot of false friends who are only interested in him for his money. Or his looks. This heart-wrenching thought stemmed from a joke Tony had made to that effect a few days ago, one of his usual self deprecating jokes. Steve was starting to worry about Tony's self esteem, adding it to the list of many worries regarding Tony that nearly brought tears to Steve's precious sky blue eyes. How could someone so intelligent, beautiful, and elegant like a swan think so badly of themselves?
Steve decided right then to have another try at getting Tony out of his tortuously self-imposed shell. He desperately wanted to see the real Tony, the Tony that he was sure was lying just below the impenetrable surface of scathing sarcasm and cutting wit. Steve wanted to see the joy sparkle in Tony's warm mahogany eyes, as warm as his heart was cold. He wanted to feel the god-like warmth of Tony's smile - wanted it so bad he nearly cried his passion aloud! His self-possession remained intact, however, and so he contented himself with looking adoringly over at Tony. Catching Tony's brilliant yet haunted eyes, Steve smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, and waved, indicating that Tony should come over.
Tony, his eyes wide like a startled deer, carefully picked his way over to Steve with a hesitant smile on his face. Steve, with his blindingly bright smile still plastered to his face, basked in the sliver of warmth Tony's presence held. "How was your day in town?"
"It was fine - even running into the women wasn't so bad," Tony replied hesitantly, and it was obvious to Steve that Tony was only half there.
"Tony Stark, describing women as "not so bad"? It seems like part of your reputation doesn't fit." Steve sounded curious, and Tony was happy to explain further, launching into a small speech.
"Women with brains of air bother me, but I ran into Ms. Van Dyne. She invited us to her country estate. She certainly has character, and a mind to match. As for my reputation, it depends on what part doesn't fit. You may notice my reputation includes going from woman to woman without spending much time with any of them. I don't spend I lot of time with socialites for a reason." Tony was every part the bird whose feathers had been ruffled.
"What do you mean, she invited "us" ?" Steve asked, trying to change the subject into something more jovial. That small speech was the most Steve had been able to get out of Tony since he'd come to the ranch, and this fact filled Steve with a golden, glowing joy, so wonderful that he could barely contain his delight. The world seemed a much brighter place now that Tony had spoken, choosing to share his infinite wisdom with Steve. Still, however, Steve yearned with all his patriotic heart to see Tony smile that beautiful smile - the one that made Steve believe in higher powers; there had to be some God who had sought perfection and created Tony.
"Oh, she asked me to bring the Avengers to the get-together. She said something about how you can never have too many handsome men." Tony looked sly as he said this, and Steve detected an almost flirtatious undertone in his dulcet voice. Steve smiled back at him, a softer smile, as he thought: I wonder if other rumours hold more substance.
Steve asked for the date of the party, then considered whether or not the Avengers could take a night off, looking off into the distance as he thought. As the silence stretched out, Tony took the time to admire Steve's manly and chiseled profile. The shape of his nose, the high arch of his brow, the strong, dominant cut of his Harvey-Dent-esque jaw. "It has been a while since we went out to have a good time," he conceded, when he finally agreed to the shindig. He than looked over at Tony again and felt a warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout his body, like syrup over hot pancakes.(1) Tony was smiling down at a little calf that was chewing on his coat tails, patting her head. It was the only time Steve had seen Tony so calm, outside of the laboratory Tony had set up in his bedroom. Steve committed to memory the wave of Tony's shiny ebony hair, the delicate roseate tint of his luxuriously smooth cheeks, the soft curve of his lips.
"I don't think she's gonna let you go any time soon," Steve said, hating himself for interrupting the pleasant silence, as he gestured to the calf, "so I guess you'll just have to stay out here with me and help me mind the cattle."
Steve grinned at Tony, and was pleasantly surprised to see him grin back and say, "I guess so."
Two days later, Tony was dressing for the eagerly anticipated event. Tony knew he looked good, great - glorious in fact - when he wore his formal clothes; top hat, crisp white shirt, white gloves, bow tie, black slacks and black jacket with long coat tails. Even better than Tony's gorgeous attire was the fact that Steve would be dressed similarly. Howard Stark had paid for formal clothes for his ranchers, just in case there was ever an event where they had to look presentable. As far as Tony was concerned, that was the best idea his father had ever had. In fact, after seeing Steve, Tony decided that no idea would ever surpass this one.
Jarvis had arranged for carriages to pick the Avengers up and bring them to the estate. Tony heard them arriving and he left his room with a sigh. I'm going to have to keep reminding myself not to drool whenever I see Steve.
The entire carriage ride had been a sweet hell for Tony. His imagination was in overdrive, and he was quite sure he was reading way too much into Steve's every little move. The blindingly bright smile the golden-haired man had given him in the carriage could not have been flirtatious, no, and the few touches to Tony's arm and leg hadn't been lingering in any sense of the word - at least that's what Tony kept telling himself. There is no way someone as good-natured and beautiful as Steve could be as perverted and deranged as me. Tony continued with his self-deprecating thoughts for the duration of the entire walk from the carriage to Ms. Van Dyne's front door. A maid opened the door and led them to the party. There was a magnificent garden in the back. It was filled with many exotic plants, and stunningly beautiful flora lined the walkway. The exquisite scents of jasmine and lavender floated through the air like fairy dust, but without the sparkles. In the middle of the garden stood a humugous, pearly white gazebo, which Tony likened to a cloud. Inside the gazebo, a band could be heard playing softly. The music waltzed through the perfumed air, its laudable sound almost as enchanting and melodious as Steve's voice. Waiters meandered through the crowd, offering sparkling champagne and petite canapes to the guests.
Jan chose that moment to sashay up to them, and the introductions were made. They were proceeding as most introductions tend to do, until the fateful moment wherein Jan's eyes met those of Hank Pym. In that instant, the stopping of a heartbeat, her social smile (a very pretty and beguiling smile, and if one didn't know Jan well enough, it looked almost sincere) promptly vanished, and in its place was a look of devastating enchantment. "Hank Pym," she said slowly, as though tasting the words on her tongue. "I don't suppose you are the bright student my father was talking about a few years ago? His favourite student in chemistry and biology. He said one day you'd be as good, if not better than he is. I heard him talk about your dedication for years, even taking correspondence courses during the war!" After her little speech her scintillating, iridescent eyes, blue as the depths of the ocean, trailed slowly over every inch of Hank's lithe, toned body, obviously liking what she saw.
Tony and the Avengers turned as one to gawk at Hank, who looked decidedly uncomfortable and was blushing so bright as to be reminiscent of ripe strawberries in the heat of summer. "I.. ah..." he stammered, clearly flummoxed by Jan's apparent interest in him, of all people. "That's very nice of your father to say, but I wasn't aware he thought highly of me. I'm nowhere near as good as he is." He shook his head during the second half of his disclaimer, as though his body were mirroring his words.
At this point, Tony, who had been gazing distractedly off into the crowd, spotted his friend and frequent lab partner, Reed Richards. Excusing himself, he strolled off, leaving the flustered Hank to deal with an obviously interested, and slightly infatuated Jan.
Reed Richards may have been the smartest man Tony had ever met (aside from himself, of course, credit where credit is due), but he was a terrible, horrendous, and unspeakably bad liar. Tony knew something had happened between Reed and his childhood friend and protector Ben Grimm, but he couldn't figure out what. The two had previously been inseparable, like peas in a pod, Ben Grimm always exhibiting overprotective tendencies toward the socially inept genius, much like a mother bear would act towards her defenseless cub. The sable-haired young inventor knew there was something terribly, unspeakably wrong: reason being that any time Grimm's name came up, Reed abruptly changed the topic. In fact, he had become so adept at this that the speed at which he changed the topic could be compared to lightning. Reed adamantly refused to speak about what he had been doing for the past few months, or why he had left New York in the first place. Tony briefly considered the possibilities. Much as he despised the thought, he could not help but worry that Reed might be mixed up in some sort of criminal activity. Reed's reluctance to disclose his recent activities gave horrible substance to this theory. He quickly brushed off those thoughts, however, as the idea of Reed Richards doing something illegal was simply laughable.
While Reed was ranting about some new invention, possibly one with medical applications, Tony looked around the room for Reed's companions. Johnny, Reed's impulsive brother-in-law was off in the corner talking animatedly with Peter; Sue, Reed's buxom, blond goddess of a wife was talking to Steve. Catching sight of this scenario, Tony felt a surge of red-hot envy charge through him, like a stampede of bulls, which he then quickly repressed. Sue loved Reed immeasurably, and from what Tony could see, Steve was standing a respectful distance from her, so there's little chance he's interested. Besides, he would never go for another man's wife, Steve is far too honourable, and kind, and caring, and just... too All-American-Boy-Next-Door to do something that dishonourable. But I wish she would get away from him. What does she think she's doing, leaning toward him like that? It's simply not acceptable! How does no one else notice this lewd and unmannerly behaviour? That hussy! Tony immediately backtracked mentally, as he knew Sue was a wonderful woman. Unfortunately, his mental apologies were cut short when Sue's laugh rang out across the garden, a harsh sound to Tony's resentful ears. She's laughing too much when he talks to her - that should be me!
Ironically, Steve was suffering from similar pangs of jealousy that proliferated through his muscular being as uncontrollably as a raging forest fire. It took him a few minutes to figure out why he felt so angry at Mr. Richards - then his eyes were opened. Steve was jealous because Tony was never that comfortable or intimate around him. Tony always seemed to be holding something back around Steve and the Avengers, but not here with Reed. Again, the rampant lance of jealousy through his veins, hot enough to make his blood boil. It simply wasn't fair that Tony should open up so unconsciously to Richards, when Steve himself could barely get a word out of the brilliant young man. However, Steve was by and large a practical man, and so instead of wallowing in his almost insurmountable feelings of inadequacy and envy, he instead focused his attention fiercely on his conversation with Sue.
The party continued with a gentle flow of peaceful socialization and varying levels of discreet flirtation for another hour or so, until the glamorous atmosphere was rudely interrupted by the violent screams of gunshots. A band of men dressed in Confederate colours forced and pummelled their way into the pavilion. Before their demands could fully register in Tony's mind, he was already sprinting off to the carriages, where Jarvis had stealthily hidden a secret suitcase containing Tony's iron suit and a battery pack.
Tony hurriedly clambered into the suit, and tore back to what was now a fully-fledged battle in the once-glorious garden. Upon arriving, Tony was clobbered by a deep and bludgeon-wielding sense of deja vue. He already knew what the Avengers could do, and although biology wasn't Tony's strong suit, he was fairly sure that bodies were not supposed to stretch in the manner Reed's was. He also knew that nobody could survive prolonged contact with a giant, fiery, burning, fiery, ball of fiery doom (without screaming in agony, anyway) though that apparently didn't apply to Johnny. But the young man seemed to be fighting just fine; there wasn't a hint of pain in his features. And Tony would have been able to deal with invisible force fields wielded, really, he would have been just fine with that, it was just that he couldn't see more of Sue than her clothing and it was slightly bothersome. I bet she's doing that to show off for Steve, the petty voice in his mind whispered, but Tony was thankfully distracted from this train of thought as a spray of bullets careened off his armour. I wonder what Ben can do . . . it was probably something that prevents him from being in the company of other humans . . .I'll bet that's why Reed didn't want to talk about it, was Tony's last, fleeting thought before he charged into the fray, guns blazing.
Throughout the fight, Tony wished there was something more effective than the guns built into his amour, something that could take out more men without hurting them. Well, I know what my next project is... Tony's thoughts began to wander as the fight went on: the fewer adversaries left to fight, the easier it was for Tony to think of things other than how to incapacitate the man in front of him. Muscle memory took over, and Tony dodged and stacked on autopilot. He began to take in more of his surroundings, and thoughts such as, where did Steve get that shield from, or, why is Sam's bird so smart, and what the heck is up with Peter? popped unbidden into his mind.
Subduing his current opponent, Tony cast wildly around for Jan, and felt a momentary stab of panic in his gut when he realized he couldn't see her. Then, something that could have been a wasp, knocked out a hulking, menacing man dressed in gray. Tony realized afterwards that the wasp was no insect at all, but Jan, shrunk down to an incredible size. It also appeared that she could shoot something out of her hands. Most of the guests had fled indoors, herded by the uncouth, unbidden, unmannerly invaders like mindless sheep, and Tony wondered how on earth these events would end up being explained.
After all the vile, merciless, and unwashed intruders were incapacitated, Steve, still in his perfectly-tailored evening suit and slacks, started to swagger over toward Tony. His glossy flaxen hair was adorably mussed, and there was a smidgen of dirt on one high cheekbone. His cerulean eyes shone with excitement. Tony, thanking any and all higher powers for his anonymous appearance, took in the grand majesty of Steve's overall appearance and the length of his powerful, masterful strides across the lush grass. Oh, to be that grass! To come into contact with Steve! Tony was so lost in his reverie that he started with surprise as Steve, an open grin on his stunning face, thanked the Iron Man for helping out during the fracas. Then, as the sky clouded over ominously and the wind gusted across the pavilion, Steve opened his mouth, and the words Tony had hoped never to hear from anyone fell like lichen-covered boulders from his soft, moist, angelic lips: "I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but who are you exactly?"
Tony hesitated, not really wanting to tell the Avengers that it was him inside the suit. He was loathe to reveal to the others the full and heart-breaking story behind why he had the suit; for it would mean exposing the full extent of the grievous damage done to his body and soul. On the other hand, the Avengers had respect for "Iron Man" which might be transferred to Tony once they realized it was indeed him behind the helmet. Steve respects the man in the suit - I could get closer to him if he realizes that I'm not just some cowardly rich brat. Oh, to be closer to Steve in any and every sense of the word... But if he knows I'm the Iron Man, I'll have to explain about the kidnapping and he'll pity me . . . I don't know if I could bear it. When Tony looked back on the event later, he realized it was the pause that had undone him. Lost in thought, he hesitated for a few precious seconds, allowing Peter to creep up behind him stealthily, like a stealthy shadow in the darkest of nights. This one, ruinous pause gave the other man the chance to manoeuvre around behind him - damn the helmet's lack of peripheral vision! - and in a whoosh of frigid air, Tony felt the helmet leave his head, as Peter let out a triumphant exclamation of "Ah-ha!"
Steve as an oak tree, it fits... Oak trees are strong, tall, with roots keeping them well grounded, and like all trees they endure winter, becoming cold and barren only to become joyful and full of life in the summer. Steve is strong, tall, and good looking, with nice eyes and he has a cute.... Once again Tony's thoughts began to stray towards the gutter, and he shook his head to continue with his comparison. Steve is well grounded; he doesn't jump from one thing to another quickly, and when he talks about fighting in the war, his voice gets cold and the crystalline light in his beautiful eyes goes out. But when he talks in his deep, manly voice about the calves he has just saved, his dazzling sapphire eyes sparkle with a love of life. Why is it that I can't talk to him? Any time he's around, my mind goes blank as a sheet of paper and I can't breathe properly, let alone speak! I have no idea what to talk to him about - I mean, he's a war hero and I'm just the spoiled son of a weapons manufacturer. What could I ever have to say to him? How could I ever be worthy of his delicious company? And it doesn't help that he's just so damn distracting, it makes it hard to keep my thoughts in line. Although, if Steve really didn't want people thinking about his cute bum he would not wear those tight, tight leather pants. Goddammit.
Steve could feel Tony's lovely eyes on him, but he didn't look back at Tony, knowing it might scare him off like a deer in the woods. He had realised that Tony had a uncanny fascination with him, one that Steve didn't quite understand, and it left him feeling like a fish out of water; he had no idea what to do in such a situation. Tony would watch Steve whenever he got the chance, but when he talked to Steve it was mostly superficial conversation. It was like Tony wanted to become Steve's friend, but he didn't know how. Which made even less sense to Steve. Considering who Tony is, making friends should come easily to him. On the other hand, he must have a lot of false friends who are only interested in him for his money. Or his looks. This heart-wrenching thought stemmed from a joke Tony had made to that effect a few days ago, one of his usual self deprecating jokes. Steve was starting to worry about Tony's self esteem, adding it to the list of many worries regarding Tony that nearly brought tears to Steve's precious sky blue eyes. How could someone so intelligent, beautiful, and elegant like a swan think so badly of themselves?
Steve decided right then to have another try at getting Tony out of his tortuously self-imposed shell. He desperately wanted to see the real Tony, the Tony that he was sure was lying just below the impenetrable surface of scathing sarcasm and cutting wit. Steve wanted to see the joy sparkle in Tony's warm mahogany eyes, as warm as his heart was cold. He wanted to feel the god-like warmth of Tony's smile - wanted it so bad he nearly cried his passion aloud! His self-possession remained intact, however, and so he contented himself with looking adoringly over at Tony. Catching Tony's brilliant yet haunted eyes, Steve smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, and waved, indicating that Tony should come over.
Tony, his eyes wide like a startled deer, carefully picked his way over to Steve with a hesitant smile on his face. Steve, with his blindingly bright smile still plastered to his face, basked in the sliver of warmth Tony's presence held. "How was your day in town?"
"It was fine - even running into the women wasn't so bad," Tony replied hesitantly, and it was obvious to Steve that Tony was only half there.
"Tony Stark, describing women as "not so bad"? It seems like part of your reputation doesn't fit." Steve sounded curious, and Tony was happy to explain further, launching into a small speech.
"Women with brains of air bother me, but I ran into Ms. Van Dyne. She invited us to her country estate. She certainly has character, and a mind to match. As for my reputation, it depends on what part doesn't fit. You may notice my reputation includes going from woman to woman without spending much time with any of them. I don't spend I lot of time with socialites for a reason." Tony was every part the bird whose feathers had been ruffled.
"What do you mean, she invited "us" ?" Steve asked, trying to change the subject into something more jovial. That small speech was the most Steve had been able to get out of Tony since he'd come to the ranch, and this fact filled Steve with a golden, glowing joy, so wonderful that he could barely contain his delight. The world seemed a much brighter place now that Tony had spoken, choosing to share his infinite wisdom with Steve. Still, however, Steve yearned with all his patriotic heart to see Tony smile that beautiful smile - the one that made Steve believe in higher powers; there had to be some God who had sought perfection and created Tony.
"Oh, she asked me to bring the Avengers to the get-together. She said something about how you can never have too many handsome men." Tony looked sly as he said this, and Steve detected an almost flirtatious undertone in his dulcet voice. Steve smiled back at him, a softer smile, as he thought: I wonder if other rumours hold more substance.
Steve asked for the date of the party, then considered whether or not the Avengers could take a night off, looking off into the distance as he thought. As the silence stretched out, Tony took the time to admire Steve's manly and chiseled profile. The shape of his nose, the high arch of his brow, the strong, dominant cut of his Harvey-Dent-esque jaw. "It has been a while since we went out to have a good time," he conceded, when he finally agreed to the shindig. He than looked over at Tony again and felt a warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout his body, like syrup over hot pancakes.(1) Tony was smiling down at a little calf that was chewing on his coat tails, patting her head. It was the only time Steve had seen Tony so calm, outside of the laboratory Tony had set up in his bedroom. Steve committed to memory the wave of Tony's shiny ebony hair, the delicate roseate tint of his luxuriously smooth cheeks, the soft curve of his lips.
"I don't think she's gonna let you go any time soon," Steve said, hating himself for interrupting the pleasant silence, as he gestured to the calf, "so I guess you'll just have to stay out here with me and help me mind the cattle."
Steve grinned at Tony, and was pleasantly surprised to see him grin back and say, "I guess so."
Two days later, Tony was dressing for the eagerly anticipated event. Tony knew he looked good, great - glorious in fact - when he wore his formal clothes; top hat, crisp white shirt, white gloves, bow tie, black slacks and black jacket with long coat tails. Even better than Tony's gorgeous attire was the fact that Steve would be dressed similarly. Howard Stark had paid for formal clothes for his ranchers, just in case there was ever an event where they had to look presentable. As far as Tony was concerned, that was the best idea his father had ever had. In fact, after seeing Steve, Tony decided that no idea would ever surpass this one.
Jarvis had arranged for carriages to pick the Avengers up and bring them to the estate. Tony heard them arriving and he left his room with a sigh. I'm going to have to keep reminding myself not to drool whenever I see Steve.
The entire carriage ride had been a sweet hell for Tony. His imagination was in overdrive, and he was quite sure he was reading way too much into Steve's every little move. The blindingly bright smile the golden-haired man had given him in the carriage could not have been flirtatious, no, and the few touches to Tony's arm and leg hadn't been lingering in any sense of the word - at least that's what Tony kept telling himself. There is no way someone as good-natured and beautiful as Steve could be as perverted and deranged as me. Tony continued with his self-deprecating thoughts for the duration of the entire walk from the carriage to Ms. Van Dyne's front door. A maid opened the door and led them to the party. There was a magnificent garden in the back. It was filled with many exotic plants, and stunningly beautiful flora lined the walkway. The exquisite scents of jasmine and lavender floated through the air like fairy dust, but without the sparkles. In the middle of the garden stood a humugous, pearly white gazebo, which Tony likened to a cloud. Inside the gazebo, a band could be heard playing softly. The music waltzed through the perfumed air, its laudable sound almost as enchanting and melodious as Steve's voice. Waiters meandered through the crowd, offering sparkling champagne and petite canapes to the guests.
Jan chose that moment to sashay up to them, and the introductions were made. They were proceeding as most introductions tend to do, until the fateful moment wherein Jan's eyes met those of Hank Pym. In that instant, the stopping of a heartbeat, her social smile (a very pretty and beguiling smile, and if one didn't know Jan well enough, it looked almost sincere) promptly vanished, and in its place was a look of devastating enchantment. "Hank Pym," she said slowly, as though tasting the words on her tongue. "I don't suppose you are the bright student my father was talking about a few years ago? His favourite student in chemistry and biology. He said one day you'd be as good, if not better than he is. I heard him talk about your dedication for years, even taking correspondence courses during the war!" After her little speech her scintillating, iridescent eyes, blue as the depths of the ocean, trailed slowly over every inch of Hank's lithe, toned body, obviously liking what she saw.
Tony and the Avengers turned as one to gawk at Hank, who looked decidedly uncomfortable and was blushing so bright as to be reminiscent of ripe strawberries in the heat of summer. "I.. ah..." he stammered, clearly flummoxed by Jan's apparent interest in him, of all people. "That's very nice of your father to say, but I wasn't aware he thought highly of me. I'm nowhere near as good as he is." He shook his head during the second half of his disclaimer, as though his body were mirroring his words.
At this point, Tony, who had been gazing distractedly off into the crowd, spotted his friend and frequent lab partner, Reed Richards. Excusing himself, he strolled off, leaving the flustered Hank to deal with an obviously interested, and slightly infatuated Jan.
Reed Richards may have been the smartest man Tony had ever met (aside from himself, of course, credit where credit is due), but he was a terrible, horrendous, and unspeakably bad liar. Tony knew something had happened between Reed and his childhood friend and protector Ben Grimm, but he couldn't figure out what. The two had previously been inseparable, like peas in a pod, Ben Grimm always exhibiting overprotective tendencies toward the socially inept genius, much like a mother bear would act towards her defenseless cub. The sable-haired young inventor knew there was something terribly, unspeakably wrong: reason being that any time Grimm's name came up, Reed abruptly changed the topic. In fact, he had become so adept at this that the speed at which he changed the topic could be compared to lightning. Reed adamantly refused to speak about what he had been doing for the past few months, or why he had left New York in the first place. Tony briefly considered the possibilities. Much as he despised the thought, he could not help but worry that Reed might be mixed up in some sort of criminal activity. Reed's reluctance to disclose his recent activities gave horrible substance to this theory. He quickly brushed off those thoughts, however, as the idea of Reed Richards doing something illegal was simply laughable.
While Reed was ranting about some new invention, possibly one with medical applications, Tony looked around the room for Reed's companions. Johnny, Reed's impulsive brother-in-law was off in the corner talking animatedly with Peter; Sue, Reed's buxom, blond goddess of a wife was talking to Steve. Catching sight of this scenario, Tony felt a surge of red-hot envy charge through him, like a stampede of bulls, which he then quickly repressed. Sue loved Reed immeasurably, and from what Tony could see, Steve was standing a respectful distance from her, so there's little chance he's interested. Besides, he would never go for another man's wife, Steve is far too honourable, and kind, and caring, and just... too All-American-Boy-Next-Door to do something that dishonourable. But I wish she would get away from him. What does she think she's doing, leaning toward him like that? It's simply not acceptable! How does no one else notice this lewd and unmannerly behaviour? That hussy! Tony immediately backtracked mentally, as he knew Sue was a wonderful woman. Unfortunately, his mental apologies were cut short when Sue's laugh rang out across the garden, a harsh sound to Tony's resentful ears. She's laughing too much when he talks to her - that should be me!
Ironically, Steve was suffering from similar pangs of jealousy that proliferated through his muscular being as uncontrollably as a raging forest fire. It took him a few minutes to figure out why he felt so angry at Mr. Richards - then his eyes were opened. Steve was jealous because Tony was never that comfortable or intimate around him. Tony always seemed to be holding something back around Steve and the Avengers, but not here with Reed. Again, the rampant lance of jealousy through his veins, hot enough to make his blood boil. It simply wasn't fair that Tony should open up so unconsciously to Richards, when Steve himself could barely get a word out of the brilliant young man. However, Steve was by and large a practical man, and so instead of wallowing in his almost insurmountable feelings of inadequacy and envy, he instead focused his attention fiercely on his conversation with Sue.
The party continued with a gentle flow of peaceful socialization and varying levels of discreet flirtation for another hour or so, until the glamorous atmosphere was rudely interrupted by the violent screams of gunshots. A band of men dressed in Confederate colours forced and pummelled their way into the pavilion. Before their demands could fully register in Tony's mind, he was already sprinting off to the carriages, where Jarvis had stealthily hidden a secret suitcase containing Tony's iron suit and a battery pack.
Tony hurriedly clambered into the suit, and tore back to what was now a fully-fledged battle in the once-glorious garden. Upon arriving, Tony was clobbered by a deep and bludgeon-wielding sense of deja vue. He already knew what the Avengers could do, and although biology wasn't Tony's strong suit, he was fairly sure that bodies were not supposed to stretch in the manner Reed's was. He also knew that nobody could survive prolonged contact with a giant, fiery, burning, fiery, ball of fiery doom (without screaming in agony, anyway) though that apparently didn't apply to Johnny. But the young man seemed to be fighting just fine; there wasn't a hint of pain in his features. And Tony would have been able to deal with invisible force fields wielded, really, he would have been just fine with that, it was just that he couldn't see more of Sue than her clothing and it was slightly bothersome. I bet she's doing that to show off for Steve, the petty voice in his mind whispered, but Tony was thankfully distracted from this train of thought as a spray of bullets careened off his armour. I wonder what Ben can do . . . it was probably something that prevents him from being in the company of other humans . . .I'll bet that's why Reed didn't want to talk about it, was Tony's last, fleeting thought before he charged into the fray, guns blazing.
Throughout the fight, Tony wished there was something more effective than the guns built into his amour, something that could take out more men without hurting them. Well, I know what my next project is... Tony's thoughts began to wander as the fight went on: the fewer adversaries left to fight, the easier it was for Tony to think of things other than how to incapacitate the man in front of him. Muscle memory took over, and Tony dodged and stacked on autopilot. He began to take in more of his surroundings, and thoughts such as, where did Steve get that shield from, or, why is Sam's bird so smart, and what the heck is up with Peter? popped unbidden into his mind.
Subduing his current opponent, Tony cast wildly around for Jan, and felt a momentary stab of panic in his gut when he realized he couldn't see her. Then, something that could have been a wasp, knocked out a hulking, menacing man dressed in gray. Tony realized afterwards that the wasp was no insect at all, but Jan, shrunk down to an incredible size. It also appeared that she could shoot something out of her hands. Most of the guests had fled indoors, herded by the uncouth, unbidden, unmannerly invaders like mindless sheep, and Tony wondered how on earth these events would end up being explained.
After all the vile, merciless, and unwashed intruders were incapacitated, Steve, still in his perfectly-tailored evening suit and slacks, started to swagger over toward Tony. His glossy flaxen hair was adorably mussed, and there was a smidgen of dirt on one high cheekbone. His cerulean eyes shone with excitement. Tony, thanking any and all higher powers for his anonymous appearance, took in the grand majesty of Steve's overall appearance and the length of his powerful, masterful strides across the lush grass. Oh, to be that grass! To come into contact with Steve! Tony was so lost in his reverie that he started with surprise as Steve, an open grin on his stunning face, thanked the Iron Man for helping out during the fracas. Then, as the sky clouded over ominously and the wind gusted across the pavilion, Steve opened his mouth, and the words Tony had hoped never to hear from anyone fell like lichen-covered boulders from his soft, moist, angelic lips: "I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but who are you exactly?"
Tony hesitated, not really wanting to tell the Avengers that it was him inside the suit. He was loathe to reveal to the others the full and heart-breaking story behind why he had the suit; for it would mean exposing the full extent of the grievous damage done to his body and soul. On the other hand, the Avengers had respect for "Iron Man" which might be transferred to Tony once they realized it was indeed him behind the helmet. Steve respects the man in the suit - I could get closer to him if he realizes that I'm not just some cowardly rich brat. Oh, to be closer to Steve in any and every sense of the word... But if he knows I'm the Iron Man, I'll have to explain about the kidnapping and he'll pity me . . . I don't know if I could bear it. When Tony looked back on the event later, he realized it was the pause that had undone him. Lost in thought, he hesitated for a few precious seconds, allowing Peter to creep up behind him stealthily, like a stealthy shadow in the darkest of nights. This one, ruinous pause gave the other man the chance to manoeuvre around behind him - damn the helmet's lack of peripheral vision! - and in a whoosh of frigid air, Tony felt the helmet leave his head, as Peter let out a triumphant exclamation of "Ah-ha!"
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Emily
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