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cap_ironman2008-12-05 10:15 pm
jwaneeta.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2008-12-05 10:15 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: The Wages of Sin
Title: The Wages of Sin
Author: jwaneeta
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG
Archive: Sure - just let me know where, please
Word Count: apx 3,240
Disclaimer: Marvel owns all characters herein, no profit was made from this story
Summary: Tony wants to retrieve some stolen tech without interference. Steve interferes.
Weightless fluff, pre-Avengers Disassembled. I'm just going to post here under a cut rather than link back to my journal for now, hope that's okay.
The ocean stretched ahead, choppy waves blurring to gold on the horizon as Iron Man rocketed toward the rising sun. He wasn’t supersonic – he was too low for that, flying just clear of the water for reasons of discretion – but short of causing an atmospheric concussion, Tony Stark had the throttle up as far as it could go. All he needed was a bit of luck, a little time, and zero interference.
The comm unit beeped in his helmet. Again.
“Iron Man. This is Cap. Iron Man: Cap, over.”
Oh, for God’s sake. A priority transmission this time, the signal the Avengers had sworn on a bleeding goatskin at the dark of the moon to answer under all circumstances, at any cost. Cap was clearly getting testy.
“Tony, pick up and state your position. I mean it, Tony. If you don’t pick up I’m going to assume you’re wounded or captured, and we’ll be scrambling the Quinjet to –“
Tony sighed and opened the channel. “I’m here, Cap. Don’t scramble anything. I’m fine.”
“Where are you? What’s your position? What’s going on?”
“Don’t snarl, Captain America. Don’t be agitated, I beg.”
There was a moment of silence, and Tony knew Cap was close to breaking the military discipline of a lifetime and using profane language on a priority channel. Tony waited with interest. Was this the day Saint Steve finally lost his temper and joined the human race?
Apparently not. After a strained pause, Cap’s voice came through again, clipped and in control.
“Tony, tell me what’s going on, or face a court martial when you get back. Over.”
For crying out loud, again with the courts martial. Every time someone put a toe out of line lately, Steve started harping about courts martial. It was really too bad when a serving Avenger – an Avenger who paid the bills -- couldn’t take a day off to sort out a private matter without threat of criminal charges. Where was the trust? Where was the affection? Why was everyone getting hysterical over one unscheduled flight?
“It’s nothing, Cap,” said Tony, in his most soothing manner. “I’m just going to retrieve some tech of mine. It was stolen a couple of nights ago and it’s pretty hot stuff and I just need to –“
“You lost tech?”
“Well, yes.”
“And you’re going to get it back, alone?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s what you think,” said Cap.
‘Steve, don’t be like that. It’s nothing. I zip in, I zip out. End of problem.”
“Don’t you ever learn?" demanded Cap. "How many times do we have to go through this? Every time you sneak off to retrieve your stolen tech it’s a disaster. I’m sending backup. Scratch that: I’m coming myself.”
“No! No. Steve, please stay out of this. ”
The voice onchannel grew hollow, and Tony could hear the grinding din of bay doors in the background. “I’m prepping the Quinjet right now,” shouted Cap. “Activate your beacon immediately, Tony, or you’re off the team.”
Taoyuan International Airport had one private airstrip and four very obliging officials. Tony loitered in his armor on the tarmac, seething and fifteen thousand dollars poorer, as the Quinjet banked to land.
Tony’s headset crackled to life.
“Is that hangar clear?” asked Cap, as the Quinjet taxied across the runway.
“It is,” replied Tony coldly. “It’s rented for six hours. Proceed.”
The Quinjet rolled majestically into the shadow of the hangar and Tony trudged after it, clanking. He was waiting, arms folded, when Cap popped the hatch and dropped lightly to the ground.
“Six hours, huh?” asked Cap. “Based on experience that seems a bit optimistic.”
“Is there any way I can persuade you to sit this one out, Steve? Can’t you just go catch a show or something while I handle this? It’s really no big deal,” added Tony.
Cap only settled his shield by way of answer, checking the straps and rolling his shoulders. Tony sighed.
“I’ve got a trace on the download,” Tony said. “It’s coming from some kind of manufactory in the industrial sector.”
“Right. Want to call us a cab?”
“You’re going to be funny today, I see.”
“Is there any security for this hangar?” asked Cap, as he slid an arm over Tony’s shoulder in preparation for liftoff.
“Yes, wild boars. What do you want from my life? Let’s roll.”
The signal for Tony’s stolen software rose in pitch as they circled the warehouse, scouting a place to land, and Tony’s anxiety level rose with it. That was no simple software facility down there: it was to all appearances a foundry of the first order, a serious industrial concern.
Cap pointed at a spot inside the barbed and electrified fence, and Tony reversed thrusters to land. They touched down with a minimum of dust and noise, and Cap stepped forward smartly, clearly intent on walking right through the front door.
Tony held out a hand. “You should let me go first. We don’t know what’s in there.”
Cap turned. “Well, I certainly don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me? What did they steal from you this time, Tony?”
“It was just…” Tony shifted uncomfortably. “It was a program I wrote, just some dumb harmless thing. Somebody hacked me and got their hands on it.”
“And what does this program do?” asked Cap sternly.
“It was virtual. At first.”
“Virtual what? Virtual how?”
“It was just a design for… well, a bunch of specs for… well, some robots,” said Tony wretchedly.
“Good God! Robots again?”
“Steve, it isn’t what you think –“
“More robots? What is wrong with you?”
“I wasn’t going to build them,” protested Tony.
“Don’t you ever get tired of making deadly things?” Cap’s voice was tight with exasperation. “Just how bad is this going to get? You might as well tell me, Tony. What kind of mechanical killers are waiting for us in there?”
“They’re nothing bad, Steve.” Tony felt his face heating scarlet behind the mask. “They’re just… sexbots.”
“Sexbots,” echoed Cap.
Tony raised his hands. “Look, I can’t sleep – that’s one reason I was a souse, you know? I need something to do at night, so I was just messing around. I only wanted to design something pretty, something fun. They were never meant to be seen, much less built.”
“Sexbots,” said Cap.
“Yeah.”
After a long, tense pause, Cap shook his head and gave a relenting chuckle. “Okay, Tony,” he said. “Okay. Let’s go liberate your sexbots.”
Tony followed Cap into the warehouse, head low.
Resistance was surprisingly stiff for a sexbot factory, Tony had to admit. Tripwires everywhere you looked, dozens of security hoods bristling with arms and unafraid to use them, blast doors, the works. For a brisk six minutes it was a melee. By the time Cap and Tony subdued the defenders and penetrated the central hub, Tony was drenched with effort inside his armor. Cap was, predictably, unwinded and fresh as a daisy. He placed himself in a position that commanded the room, sweeping it visually for any new threat, as Tony tapped out a string of queries at a central console. Security was tight on the cyber end as well, and Tony’s brow knit as he waded through thickets of encryption and assorted snares.
“Find anything?” asked Cap.
“Working on it.” Tony replied. “I’m almost – wait, here we go.” The screen began to scroll with a torrent of data, and Tony groaned.
“What?” Cap sounded tenser by the second. “Tony, what’s going on?”
“They’ve built them,” said Tony. “They’ve built my sexbots. They’ve been modified and – oh. Not good, not good.” Tony took a deep breath. “Somebody’s trying to create an army, Steve.”
“An army of sexbots?”
“I’m telling you – they’ve been modified, weaponized…” Tony watched the files popping open and felt the blood drain from his face. “I deleted that one, “ he whispered. “I got rid of it. Oh, no.”
“What?” barked Cap.
Tony snapped down his faceplate and rose. “Steve, you need to get out of here. Let me handle this.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Cap moved to the console and Tony stepped right, blocking his view.
“Steve, I’m asking you. As a friend. Get the hell out of here, please.”
“Not a chance. In fact, I think we should alert the rest of the team.”
“Don’t!” Tony took another breath, tried to regain his cool. “Steve, these things – they’re crazy. Somebody truly gifted and psychotic has reworked them. They’ve got lasers. They’ve got hypnotic strobes. They emit disinhibitor fields. It looks like they might be able to screw with magnetism, gravity, blood pressure – look, will you please just let me take this one?”
Cap ignored him and pressed a finger to his ear. “Avengers! Assemb—“
An explosion rocked the room as the doors on both sides burst inward. Cap and Tony staggered. Two tides of scantily clad, highly attractive robots swept toward them in a pincer, laying down a carpet of fire. Cap threw up his shield and dove behind the console in one balletic movement. Tony reeled as lasers struck the armor – astonishing, the level of punch in those things – and activated his repulsors. The beams never struck -- blue shields flickered around the sexbots as the energy splashed harmlessly aside. The sexbots halted fractionally, then pressed forward again. Tony retreated behind the console, cursing.
Cap was staring at him in horror. “Half those things look like me,” he said hoarsely.
Tony winced. “About that, Steve –“
Three quarters of the console exploded. Debris showered them like confetti.
“How could you do such a thing?” demanded Cap. “Do you even understand how offensive that is?”
“I’m really sorry.”
Cap jumped to his feet and hurled his shield. It bounced harmlessly off the nearest sexbot, a sculpted twin of himself, and returned to his hand. Cap ducked behind the console, narrowly avoiding a lethal shot.
“Right – guess we’re outgunned. But aren’t robot armies always connected to a central brain, Tony? Can’t you, I don’t know, go into the mainframe and shut them all down, something like that?”
“Well, perhaps I could, but you’ll note that they just blew away the access port.”
Cap raised the shield to deflect a bolt of energy. “Don’t they have more than one?”
“I’ll check,” said Tony. He crawled from behind the console, head down, using his gauntlets as guards. “Yeah,” he reported. “There’s another terminal on the other side of the sexbots, but – ow!” Tony’s view screen shorted for a moment as a bolt caught him in the visor. Cap dragged him back to cover. The sexbots advanced.
“I think we’re onto a loser with this one, Steve,” panted Tony.
“It’s not looking good,” admitted Cap.
“There is one thing we could do.” Tony twisted to fire off a short, futile blast, and then looked at Cap. “You get clear.”
“And?”
“And I close with the enemy and blow myself up.”
“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” snapped Steve. “Every time we get into a tight corner, you want to blow yourself up.”
“This is my fault, and I’m just trying to take responsibility in the only way I know h—“
“Tony, shut up and let me think.” Cap craned his neck, examining the ceiling. “I wish they’d quit shooting long enough for me to get a good look at those pipes,” he muttered. “Is that a steam fitting, do you think?”
Tony peered. “Could be.”
Cap weighed his shield. “What would happen if I severed it?”
Tony shook his head. “I’d be okay, but you’d cook like a chicken. Next idea.”
“What if I got above it? Would a scalding cascade of steam be enough cover for you to punch through and reach that terminal?”
“Maybe.”
“You’d better give me a boost, then. On three. One, two —“
Cap pushed off and leapt, laser blasts sizzling past his ear. He caught the pipe one-handed, swung up, and deflected a fresh spatter of fire with his shield. “You ready?” he shouted to Tony.
“Do it,” said Tony.
Cap swung his shield onto the pipe, and the enormous pressure of the steam exploded. He leapt again, back and up, and caught the rafters. Tony watched him connect and then turned, surging forward in the billowing haze.
A random shot caught his shoulder and he spun, systems crackling. He found his balance and pushed on. Another shot brought him heavily to one knee. The bots were closing – he could see them dimly, concentrating their aim. He rose and staggered for the terminal, bowed under a hail of blue fire, groping for the port.
The sexbots encircled him. The armor was shuddering with impact, systems flickering. No time left, no chance for anything fancy. Tony extruded a probe, drove it into the port and gave it everything he had, every ounce of juice -- weapons systems, life support, satellite radio – and experienced one instant of excruciating electrical shock. And then the world blinked out.
Captain America stood in the golden glow of the setting sun, framed by towering pillars of cloud. One booted foot rested on a skyscraper’s ledge, and his massive thigh strained the blue leather of his costume. His broad mailed chest flexed as he hefted his shield, his only weapon. Steve the Mighty. Steve the Sinless. Steve Rogers: a light to the world, a paragon among men.
Steve Rogers was a stranger to human weakness, proof against those base passions which troubled the nights, and dreams, and furtive fantasies of the weak. His was the virtue of an angel, united with the humility of a servant, encompassed and defined by a body of jaw-dropping, fuse-blowing, brain-shattering physical perfection. Steve was a real winner. Steve never let anybody down.
Steve turned -- his gaze clear and steady, his clear eyes wells of strength and compassion.
“Breathe, Tony,” he said regally. “Breathe.”
And then he bent his head for a kiss.
Joy exploded in Tony Stark. The blood sang in his veins. His mouth was filled with the taste of Steve, the tastiest taste of all, the very nectar of heaven. He tried to respond, to return the kiss of that firm and insistent mouth, but Steve withdrew and punched him in the chest.
“Hoof!” gasped Tony.
“Good,” said Steve, lacing his fingers and continuing chest compressions. “Come on, one more.”
Tony took another rasping breath, noting that the brilliant sky above Steve had faded, replaced by a dim ceiling laced with pipes and girders. Coolant dripped down the walls and steam drifted in a sullen haze. Steve, however, remained wreathed in glory.
“We should probably get more of this armor off,” said Steve.
“Oh yes,” whispered Tony.
Steve’s noble mouth quirked and he set to work removing Tony’s gauntlets, laying them aside and chafing Tony’s arms. Tony submitted happily to this divestment. He was floating, at peace, and Steve’s ministrations – though strange and unmerited – warmed the very bottom of his soul.
“There.” Steve palpitated Tony’s bare chest and placed two fingers under his jawline. “I think your sternum is intact, and you’ve got a little color now.”
“I haven’t been able to speak my heart,” said Tony, suddenly and with febrile conviction, “Since the dreadful days of Kang.”
“Right.” Steve eased some folded sacking under Tony’s head. “You’re kind of punchy right now, Tony, so take it easy. You took a hell of a jolt from that mainframe.”
“In the dreadful days of Kang –"
“Tony, forget Kang. Kang was a long time ago. Lie still.” Steve glanced over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure my distress call went through. The rest of the team should be arriving shortly.”
“How will they get past the mystic barrier?”
“I'm confident they'll manage," said Steve drily. He rose and moved away, stooping to gather a pair of fallen sexbots in his arms. He carried them to a shadowed corner, dumped them, and returned for more.
Tony struggled to rise. His backplate fell aside with a clang and he slipped, landing on one elbow in a tide of industrial foam and robot appendages. Steve dropped the sexbots and hurried to his side.
“Kallusian paralysis ray,” murmured Tony.
“No, sexbot factory,” said Steve.
“This is the end for me, my friend,” said Tony, clutching Steve’s hand as tears started to his eyes. “Go, return to earth, leave me... but wait!”
“Yes, Tony?”
“Know that I love you, Steve.”
“I know it,” smiled Steve.
Tony clutched him fiercely. “I have always loved you more than life. And only now, at the end, do I have the courage to speak.”
“I get it. Shhh.” Steve patted Tony’s rigid fingers. “Try to relax.”
“Farewell," whispered Tony, and fell asleep.
“He got knocked silly by a..."
“Sexbots everywhere..."
“Still don’t know who was behind it..."
The voices were drowned by the whine of the Quinjet’s thrusters, and Tony felt inertia press him into his cot as it shot down the runway and knifed into the sky. They’d strapped him to a stretcher in the hold -- Tony could see Jan, Hank and Cap in the bucket seats forward.
Memories jostled and swam in no particular order: the download, the hack trace, the factory, the sexb— oh god. Tony’s mind cleared abruptly and he groaned.
Cap chose that moment to toss aside his seatbelt and make his way back into the hold. Tony turned his face to the cabin wall.
“Hey,” said Cap lightly. “How’s the head?” He crouched beside the cot, grinning.
Tony raised suffering eyes to his face but remained mute.
“Hm, I see. Well. That was some fireworks display back there,” Cap said.
“Missed it."
“Really? You were actually rather talkative.”
“Is Jan piloting?” asked Tony irritably.
“Yeah – Clint’s bringing back the other flight. I think in the end, tarmac fees and gratuities came to about... " Cap raised his voice. “How much, Jan?”
“About 38k,” called Jan.
Tony grimaced at the amount, then hissed as his skull tried to come apart.
“You have some pretty expensive hobbies,” noted Cap.
“Yeah. Look, Steve, I’m sorr-”
“Ridiculously expensive,” repeated Cap, leaning closer, “and absurdly over complicated. You really need to simplify your life, Tony.”
And then Cap leaned in for a kiss.
Tony’s jaw sagged when Cap pulled back. Cap was grinning, but his face grew stern as he said: “We’ll need to discuss this when we get back to the mansion, of course.”
“Of course,” agreed Tony faintly.
“I can’t allow this kind of insubordination to go unrebuked.”
“Hell no,” breathed Tony.
“Good. We have about four hours until we reach New York.” Cap rose and smiled down at him. “Use the time, Tony. Think about how to make... amends.”
Cap returned forward to take over from Jan, and Tony felt the Quinjet bank north by northwest. Sunlight pierced the canopy and slid up the walls of the cabin. Tony reflected on the stiff rebuke awaiting him in New York, and on money well spent.
Author: jwaneeta
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG
Archive: Sure - just let me know where, please
Word Count: apx 3,240
Disclaimer: Marvel owns all characters herein, no profit was made from this story
Summary: Tony wants to retrieve some stolen tech without interference. Steve interferes.
Weightless fluff, pre-Avengers Disassembled. I'm just going to post here under a cut rather than link back to my journal for now, hope that's okay.
The ocean stretched ahead, choppy waves blurring to gold on the horizon as Iron Man rocketed toward the rising sun. He wasn’t supersonic – he was too low for that, flying just clear of the water for reasons of discretion – but short of causing an atmospheric concussion, Tony Stark had the throttle up as far as it could go. All he needed was a bit of luck, a little time, and zero interference.
The comm unit beeped in his helmet. Again.
“Iron Man. This is Cap. Iron Man: Cap, over.”
Oh, for God’s sake. A priority transmission this time, the signal the Avengers had sworn on a bleeding goatskin at the dark of the moon to answer under all circumstances, at any cost. Cap was clearly getting testy.
“Tony, pick up and state your position. I mean it, Tony. If you don’t pick up I’m going to assume you’re wounded or captured, and we’ll be scrambling the Quinjet to –“
Tony sighed and opened the channel. “I’m here, Cap. Don’t scramble anything. I’m fine.”
“Where are you? What’s your position? What’s going on?”
“Don’t snarl, Captain America. Don’t be agitated, I beg.”
There was a moment of silence, and Tony knew Cap was close to breaking the military discipline of a lifetime and using profane language on a priority channel. Tony waited with interest. Was this the day Saint Steve finally lost his temper and joined the human race?
Apparently not. After a strained pause, Cap’s voice came through again, clipped and in control.
“Tony, tell me what’s going on, or face a court martial when you get back. Over.”
For crying out loud, again with the courts martial. Every time someone put a toe out of line lately, Steve started harping about courts martial. It was really too bad when a serving Avenger – an Avenger who paid the bills -- couldn’t take a day off to sort out a private matter without threat of criminal charges. Where was the trust? Where was the affection? Why was everyone getting hysterical over one unscheduled flight?
“It’s nothing, Cap,” said Tony, in his most soothing manner. “I’m just going to retrieve some tech of mine. It was stolen a couple of nights ago and it’s pretty hot stuff and I just need to –“
“You lost tech?”
“Well, yes.”
“And you’re going to get it back, alone?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s what you think,” said Cap.
‘Steve, don’t be like that. It’s nothing. I zip in, I zip out. End of problem.”
“Don’t you ever learn?" demanded Cap. "How many times do we have to go through this? Every time you sneak off to retrieve your stolen tech it’s a disaster. I’m sending backup. Scratch that: I’m coming myself.”
“No! No. Steve, please stay out of this. ”
The voice onchannel grew hollow, and Tony could hear the grinding din of bay doors in the background. “I’m prepping the Quinjet right now,” shouted Cap. “Activate your beacon immediately, Tony, or you’re off the team.”
Taoyuan International Airport had one private airstrip and four very obliging officials. Tony loitered in his armor on the tarmac, seething and fifteen thousand dollars poorer, as the Quinjet banked to land.
Tony’s headset crackled to life.
“Is that hangar clear?” asked Cap, as the Quinjet taxied across the runway.
“It is,” replied Tony coldly. “It’s rented for six hours. Proceed.”
The Quinjet rolled majestically into the shadow of the hangar and Tony trudged after it, clanking. He was waiting, arms folded, when Cap popped the hatch and dropped lightly to the ground.
“Six hours, huh?” asked Cap. “Based on experience that seems a bit optimistic.”
“Is there any way I can persuade you to sit this one out, Steve? Can’t you just go catch a show or something while I handle this? It’s really no big deal,” added Tony.
Cap only settled his shield by way of answer, checking the straps and rolling his shoulders. Tony sighed.
“I’ve got a trace on the download,” Tony said. “It’s coming from some kind of manufactory in the industrial sector.”
“Right. Want to call us a cab?”
“You’re going to be funny today, I see.”
“Is there any security for this hangar?” asked Cap, as he slid an arm over Tony’s shoulder in preparation for liftoff.
“Yes, wild boars. What do you want from my life? Let’s roll.”
The signal for Tony’s stolen software rose in pitch as they circled the warehouse, scouting a place to land, and Tony’s anxiety level rose with it. That was no simple software facility down there: it was to all appearances a foundry of the first order, a serious industrial concern.
Cap pointed at a spot inside the barbed and electrified fence, and Tony reversed thrusters to land. They touched down with a minimum of dust and noise, and Cap stepped forward smartly, clearly intent on walking right through the front door.
Tony held out a hand. “You should let me go first. We don’t know what’s in there.”
Cap turned. “Well, I certainly don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me? What did they steal from you this time, Tony?”
“It was just…” Tony shifted uncomfortably. “It was a program I wrote, just some dumb harmless thing. Somebody hacked me and got their hands on it.”
“And what does this program do?” asked Cap sternly.
“It was virtual. At first.”
“Virtual what? Virtual how?”
“It was just a design for… well, a bunch of specs for… well, some robots,” said Tony wretchedly.
“Good God! Robots again?”
“Steve, it isn’t what you think –“
“More robots? What is wrong with you?”
“I wasn’t going to build them,” protested Tony.
“Don’t you ever get tired of making deadly things?” Cap’s voice was tight with exasperation. “Just how bad is this going to get? You might as well tell me, Tony. What kind of mechanical killers are waiting for us in there?”
“They’re nothing bad, Steve.” Tony felt his face heating scarlet behind the mask. “They’re just… sexbots.”
“Sexbots,” echoed Cap.
Tony raised his hands. “Look, I can’t sleep – that’s one reason I was a souse, you know? I need something to do at night, so I was just messing around. I only wanted to design something pretty, something fun. They were never meant to be seen, much less built.”
“Sexbots,” said Cap.
“Yeah.”
After a long, tense pause, Cap shook his head and gave a relenting chuckle. “Okay, Tony,” he said. “Okay. Let’s go liberate your sexbots.”
Tony followed Cap into the warehouse, head low.
Resistance was surprisingly stiff for a sexbot factory, Tony had to admit. Tripwires everywhere you looked, dozens of security hoods bristling with arms and unafraid to use them, blast doors, the works. For a brisk six minutes it was a melee. By the time Cap and Tony subdued the defenders and penetrated the central hub, Tony was drenched with effort inside his armor. Cap was, predictably, unwinded and fresh as a daisy. He placed himself in a position that commanded the room, sweeping it visually for any new threat, as Tony tapped out a string of queries at a central console. Security was tight on the cyber end as well, and Tony’s brow knit as he waded through thickets of encryption and assorted snares.
“Find anything?” asked Cap.
“Working on it.” Tony replied. “I’m almost – wait, here we go.” The screen began to scroll with a torrent of data, and Tony groaned.
“What?” Cap sounded tenser by the second. “Tony, what’s going on?”
“They’ve built them,” said Tony. “They’ve built my sexbots. They’ve been modified and – oh. Not good, not good.” Tony took a deep breath. “Somebody’s trying to create an army, Steve.”
“An army of sexbots?”
“I’m telling you – they’ve been modified, weaponized…” Tony watched the files popping open and felt the blood drain from his face. “I deleted that one, “ he whispered. “I got rid of it. Oh, no.”
“What?” barked Cap.
Tony snapped down his faceplate and rose. “Steve, you need to get out of here. Let me handle this.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Cap moved to the console and Tony stepped right, blocking his view.
“Steve, I’m asking you. As a friend. Get the hell out of here, please.”
“Not a chance. In fact, I think we should alert the rest of the team.”
“Don’t!” Tony took another breath, tried to regain his cool. “Steve, these things – they’re crazy. Somebody truly gifted and psychotic has reworked them. They’ve got lasers. They’ve got hypnotic strobes. They emit disinhibitor fields. It looks like they might be able to screw with magnetism, gravity, blood pressure – look, will you please just let me take this one?”
Cap ignored him and pressed a finger to his ear. “Avengers! Assemb—“
An explosion rocked the room as the doors on both sides burst inward. Cap and Tony staggered. Two tides of scantily clad, highly attractive robots swept toward them in a pincer, laying down a carpet of fire. Cap threw up his shield and dove behind the console in one balletic movement. Tony reeled as lasers struck the armor – astonishing, the level of punch in those things – and activated his repulsors. The beams never struck -- blue shields flickered around the sexbots as the energy splashed harmlessly aside. The sexbots halted fractionally, then pressed forward again. Tony retreated behind the console, cursing.
Cap was staring at him in horror. “Half those things look like me,” he said hoarsely.
Tony winced. “About that, Steve –“
Three quarters of the console exploded. Debris showered them like confetti.
“How could you do such a thing?” demanded Cap. “Do you even understand how offensive that is?”
“I’m really sorry.”
Cap jumped to his feet and hurled his shield. It bounced harmlessly off the nearest sexbot, a sculpted twin of himself, and returned to his hand. Cap ducked behind the console, narrowly avoiding a lethal shot.
“Right – guess we’re outgunned. But aren’t robot armies always connected to a central brain, Tony? Can’t you, I don’t know, go into the mainframe and shut them all down, something like that?”
“Well, perhaps I could, but you’ll note that they just blew away the access port.”
Cap raised the shield to deflect a bolt of energy. “Don’t they have more than one?”
“I’ll check,” said Tony. He crawled from behind the console, head down, using his gauntlets as guards. “Yeah,” he reported. “There’s another terminal on the other side of the sexbots, but – ow!” Tony’s view screen shorted for a moment as a bolt caught him in the visor. Cap dragged him back to cover. The sexbots advanced.
“I think we’re onto a loser with this one, Steve,” panted Tony.
“It’s not looking good,” admitted Cap.
“There is one thing we could do.” Tony twisted to fire off a short, futile blast, and then looked at Cap. “You get clear.”
“And?”
“And I close with the enemy and blow myself up.”
“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” snapped Steve. “Every time we get into a tight corner, you want to blow yourself up.”
“This is my fault, and I’m just trying to take responsibility in the only way I know h—“
“Tony, shut up and let me think.” Cap craned his neck, examining the ceiling. “I wish they’d quit shooting long enough for me to get a good look at those pipes,” he muttered. “Is that a steam fitting, do you think?”
Tony peered. “Could be.”
Cap weighed his shield. “What would happen if I severed it?”
Tony shook his head. “I’d be okay, but you’d cook like a chicken. Next idea.”
“What if I got above it? Would a scalding cascade of steam be enough cover for you to punch through and reach that terminal?”
“Maybe.”
“You’d better give me a boost, then. On three. One, two —“
Cap pushed off and leapt, laser blasts sizzling past his ear. He caught the pipe one-handed, swung up, and deflected a fresh spatter of fire with his shield. “You ready?” he shouted to Tony.
“Do it,” said Tony.
Cap swung his shield onto the pipe, and the enormous pressure of the steam exploded. He leapt again, back and up, and caught the rafters. Tony watched him connect and then turned, surging forward in the billowing haze.
A random shot caught his shoulder and he spun, systems crackling. He found his balance and pushed on. Another shot brought him heavily to one knee. The bots were closing – he could see them dimly, concentrating their aim. He rose and staggered for the terminal, bowed under a hail of blue fire, groping for the port.
The sexbots encircled him. The armor was shuddering with impact, systems flickering. No time left, no chance for anything fancy. Tony extruded a probe, drove it into the port and gave it everything he had, every ounce of juice -- weapons systems, life support, satellite radio – and experienced one instant of excruciating electrical shock. And then the world blinked out.
Captain America stood in the golden glow of the setting sun, framed by towering pillars of cloud. One booted foot rested on a skyscraper’s ledge, and his massive thigh strained the blue leather of his costume. His broad mailed chest flexed as he hefted his shield, his only weapon. Steve the Mighty. Steve the Sinless. Steve Rogers: a light to the world, a paragon among men.
Steve Rogers was a stranger to human weakness, proof against those base passions which troubled the nights, and dreams, and furtive fantasies of the weak. His was the virtue of an angel, united with the humility of a servant, encompassed and defined by a body of jaw-dropping, fuse-blowing, brain-shattering physical perfection. Steve was a real winner. Steve never let anybody down.
Steve turned -- his gaze clear and steady, his clear eyes wells of strength and compassion.
“Breathe, Tony,” he said regally. “Breathe.”
And then he bent his head for a kiss.
Joy exploded in Tony Stark. The blood sang in his veins. His mouth was filled with the taste of Steve, the tastiest taste of all, the very nectar of heaven. He tried to respond, to return the kiss of that firm and insistent mouth, but Steve withdrew and punched him in the chest.
“Hoof!” gasped Tony.
“Good,” said Steve, lacing his fingers and continuing chest compressions. “Come on, one more.”
Tony took another rasping breath, noting that the brilliant sky above Steve had faded, replaced by a dim ceiling laced with pipes and girders. Coolant dripped down the walls and steam drifted in a sullen haze. Steve, however, remained wreathed in glory.
“We should probably get more of this armor off,” said Steve.
“Oh yes,” whispered Tony.
Steve’s noble mouth quirked and he set to work removing Tony’s gauntlets, laying them aside and chafing Tony’s arms. Tony submitted happily to this divestment. He was floating, at peace, and Steve’s ministrations – though strange and unmerited – warmed the very bottom of his soul.
“There.” Steve palpitated Tony’s bare chest and placed two fingers under his jawline. “I think your sternum is intact, and you’ve got a little color now.”
“I haven’t been able to speak my heart,” said Tony, suddenly and with febrile conviction, “Since the dreadful days of Kang.”
“Right.” Steve eased some folded sacking under Tony’s head. “You’re kind of punchy right now, Tony, so take it easy. You took a hell of a jolt from that mainframe.”
“In the dreadful days of Kang –"
“Tony, forget Kang. Kang was a long time ago. Lie still.” Steve glanced over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure my distress call went through. The rest of the team should be arriving shortly.”
“How will they get past the mystic barrier?”
“I'm confident they'll manage," said Steve drily. He rose and moved away, stooping to gather a pair of fallen sexbots in his arms. He carried them to a shadowed corner, dumped them, and returned for more.
Tony struggled to rise. His backplate fell aside with a clang and he slipped, landing on one elbow in a tide of industrial foam and robot appendages. Steve dropped the sexbots and hurried to his side.
“Kallusian paralysis ray,” murmured Tony.
“No, sexbot factory,” said Steve.
“This is the end for me, my friend,” said Tony, clutching Steve’s hand as tears started to his eyes. “Go, return to earth, leave me... but wait!”
“Yes, Tony?”
“Know that I love you, Steve.”
“I know it,” smiled Steve.
Tony clutched him fiercely. “I have always loved you more than life. And only now, at the end, do I have the courage to speak.”
“I get it. Shhh.” Steve patted Tony’s rigid fingers. “Try to relax.”
“Farewell," whispered Tony, and fell asleep.
“He got knocked silly by a..."
“Sexbots everywhere..."
“Still don’t know who was behind it..."
The voices were drowned by the whine of the Quinjet’s thrusters, and Tony felt inertia press him into his cot as it shot down the runway and knifed into the sky. They’d strapped him to a stretcher in the hold -- Tony could see Jan, Hank and Cap in the bucket seats forward.
Memories jostled and swam in no particular order: the download, the hack trace, the factory, the sexb— oh god. Tony’s mind cleared abruptly and he groaned.
Cap chose that moment to toss aside his seatbelt and make his way back into the hold. Tony turned his face to the cabin wall.
“Hey,” said Cap lightly. “How’s the head?” He crouched beside the cot, grinning.
Tony raised suffering eyes to his face but remained mute.
“Hm, I see. Well. That was some fireworks display back there,” Cap said.
“Missed it."
“Really? You were actually rather talkative.”
“Is Jan piloting?” asked Tony irritably.
“Yeah – Clint’s bringing back the other flight. I think in the end, tarmac fees and gratuities came to about... " Cap raised his voice. “How much, Jan?”
“About 38k,” called Jan.
Tony grimaced at the amount, then hissed as his skull tried to come apart.
“You have some pretty expensive hobbies,” noted Cap.
“Yeah. Look, Steve, I’m sorr-”
“Ridiculously expensive,” repeated Cap, leaning closer, “and absurdly over complicated. You really need to simplify your life, Tony.”
And then Cap leaned in for a kiss.
Tony’s jaw sagged when Cap pulled back. Cap was grinning, but his face grew stern as he said: “We’ll need to discuss this when we get back to the mansion, of course.”
“Of course,” agreed Tony faintly.
“I can’t allow this kind of insubordination to go unrebuked.”
“Hell no,” breathed Tony.
“Good. We have about four hours until we reach New York.” Cap rose and smiled down at him. “Use the time, Tony. Think about how to make... amends.”
Cap returned forward to take over from Jan, and Tony felt the Quinjet bank north by northwest. Sunlight pierced the canopy and slid up the walls of the cabin. Tony reflected on the stiff rebuke awaiting him in New York, and on money well spent.
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