The Cowboy and the Socialite 5/6

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The Cowboy and The Socialite (5/6)
Author: music_est_vita
Betas: the magnificent bitchy_merlin and moonangelchan
Title: The Cowboy and The Socialite (5/6)
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, abuse of simile and alliteration
AN:So... fourteen months later I finally updated. '-_- RL got in the way. Sorry. I shortened the number of chapters to increase the likelihood that I actually finish this.

Chapter One: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/92673.html#cutid1
Chapter Two: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/103414.html#cutid1
Chapter Three: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/131808.html
Chapter Four: http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/196926.html

     Steve panicked like a deer fleeing a ravenous forest fire. The Avengers soon realized that their attempts to calm him were as futile as trying to placate a hurricane.  He was mad with worry over Tony; no one had seen the dark-haired inventor since the previous day - and God only knew what terrible grief could befall the fragile man. Steve had spent the whole day looking for Tony after that fateful moment when the sable-haired youth had bolted from his room. Steve wanted to assure Tony that everything was well between them; that he didn't care what Tony's father thought - Steve thought Tony was worth rescuing. Thor was currently helping Steve determine Tony's whereabouts - and he was Thor now, dressed in full battle regalia, well-hewn chin thrust manfully up in pride - wearing an old, norse style chestplate and and equally antique helmet.  There was grave evidence of a struggle near the perimeter. The ground had been kicked up, and there were horseshoe marks where none should be.

    Steve was acting like a mother hen whose eggs had gone missing. He was frantically searching everywhere for clues, regardless of the logic (or lack thereof) behind the search. Such was his dreadful frenzy that the rest of the Avengers had been stirred into helping him: no one could sit idly by while Steve pined so for his friend. Sam had sent his bird off to look for anything suspicious within the flight path - Redwing could see farther than anyone else on the farm. Hank - who had come back from his cattle watch with the help of Ms. Van Dyne - was shocked to hear of Tony's disappearance and was now also caught up in trying to find his new friend. Overall, the Avengers Ranch could well be described as an anthill that had just been kicked by a herd of elephants - full of chaos and workers scuttling around trying to solve a catastrophic problem. Jan left briefly to see if she could find any news from the outside, and returned hours later with naught but distressing reports of men in gray.

    Her news made Steve's beating heart turn colder than dry ice sitting on an iceberg in the Arctic Ocean in the middle of the coldest winter; he immediately remembered Tony's terrible, tragic tale of knavish kidnap. When Redwing returned, Sam informed Steve of a band of men wearing clothes the colour of old ashes - and then Steve knew his secret beloved was suffering the fate that had broken his heart once before - quite literally. While the rest of the Avengers - this included Jan, because it was obvious how taken she was with Hank - were hatching plans regarding how to free Tony, Steve, grown unbearably exasperated with all this chatter, decided to act, like the Man^TM he was. Plans were all good and well, but Steve was too worried about Tony to waste any time plotting. Steve knew he was a good soldier - possibly a super soldier - and he was banking on his multitude of manly manfulness to save Tony. He saddled his horse Marvel, grabbed his shield and musket, mounted up and rode off into the now gloriously beautiful setting sun, like a knight errant from the tales of old, to save his beloved Tony.



Tony woke up, cold and blindfolded, shaking like a newborn colt. His slim, trim, delicate and lily-white wrists and ankles ached - they must be bound - and his mind was working overtime in an attempt to figure out how to escape his current situation. I doubt I'll get another chance to make an iron suit. That would be assuming they intend to use me to make weapons, or keep me alive for ransom. After considering his father's opinion on ransom, Tony came to the conclusion that he was going to die if he didn't escape. It's not like anyone really cares enough about me to save me, so I'll do what I've always done, and save myself. Just as he had mentally prepared himself for escape, like a ninja prepares himself for the kill - knowing these men who kidnapped him could not even begin to comprehend his massive level of intellect - he heard a voice that made all his plans fall apart like a cheaply made sweater does as it comes out of the wash.

    "Anthony, it is a shame that it has come to this. Kidnapping you wasn't something I wanted to do, but your father is insistent that as long as you're alive, the business stays in the family. He even seems willing to ignore your faults to keep it that way," announced a familiar voice; Tony felt his blood run colder than glacial ice. He knew that voice, as well he should, since it belonged to his father's adviser and closest friend, Obadiah Stane. This man had seen Tony grow up, and he knew how Tony thought as well as anybody could. My chances of escaping just dropped by at least.... 87.8743 percent.

    "I'll have to send a ransom letter, of course, but we both know how Howard will respond. This time, I'm making sure that you're left alone - without access to any tools. That strange device in your chest - I had one of my scientists analyze it -  it runs on electricity, correct?" Obadiah continued, and smirked like a snake when he saw Tony stiffen - like water that's been super-cooled - at the mention of his complex and gruesome chest device. "I'll make sure you are able to charge it, if only for the appearance of wanting to ransom you. It really is a shame you have to die; with the weapons you can design, America could easily create an empire that rivals England's." Here Obadiah sighed, as if a great weight lay on his corpulent shoulders... then walked away. Tony didn't know if he was still near by, but he didn't hear a door open or close. He thought he heard fabric moving. Assuming that wasn't just Stane's clothing, I'm probably in a tent, Tony deduced, using his immense and profound deduction skills.

   Left alone, the darkness seemed all-consuming. Tony could imagine his nightmares swimming silently up from the infinite black depths, rising inexorably to swallow him in their madness. I.. I don't want to die yet, Tony thought pitifully, yearning for the one thing his heart was denied, not without seeing Steve one last time - even though he would never want someone as worthless and pathetic as me - even if only as a friend.


    Steve followed the horse tracks past the borders of the ranch to a swiftly flowing river near by, where he continued downstream until he saw menacing, black plumes of odious smoke on the horizon. Catching sight of this beastly spectacle, he turned around and rode back a few yards to a clump of bushes to which he secured Marvel's reins, making sure she couldn't escape. Then, having done this, he progressed confidently towards the source of the smoke on foot. Steve was hoping he'd have the element of surprise - being the sneaky ninja that he was - and his hopes were fulfilled. He used his strong and heavy shield, along with his supreme strength and astounding agility, to take out most of the perimeter guards, and he entered the camp unhindered, prowling towards his damsel in distress object of affection without conscious direction from his brain - it was as if the stirrings of his heart were leading him to Tony, like the inescapable, ineffable hands of Fate and Destiny. His senses were as keen as a leopard's on the hunt and he overheard a passing conversation between two men that made his blood boil and his vision cloud with rage that burned hotter than the sun. Steve was standing outside a tent, and didn't recognize the first man to speak; as for the other voice, well, Steve would know that voice anywhere. It was the melodious intonation of the fairest, most intelligent and articulate man he'd ever met. It was Tony.

    "No need to be coy, boy. We both know you've done this before," the unknown man leered in the same lecherous tone as before, and Steve privately decided he sounded like a pedophile.

    "I... I don't know what you're talking about," Tony replied, voice quavering in such a way that listening to him tore at the firmament of Steve's heartstrings. A loud smack rang out after this comment, and in Steve's mind it was impossibly loud. He was planning Tony's rescue when the conversation continued.

    "Don't lie to me boy. Who do you think told your father about Tiberius, hmm?" Tony's assailant drawled.

    "In that case, I'd like to point out that Tiberius was attractive, and you most certainly are not," Tony said, and hearing the raw defiance in his voice made Steve proud. But when the muscular blond heard the unmistakable sound of leather hitting flesh, he could wait no longer, and decided to act. Steve burst into the tent, and saw two burly guards standing between him and Tony. He also saw an aging man standing menacingly over Tony with a leather horsewhip. Steve's vision was still slightly foggy from the massive rage-cloud the conversation had invoked, but his military training took over in a flash. He instinctively threw his shield, knocking the guards out before they'd fully had time to register his presence. Then he drew his musket, aimed it at the man standing over Tony, and he shot. The man's brains exploded from his head like a hamster in a microwave, and he fell to the ground - dead as Albus Dumbledore.

    Steve ran over to Tony, who was shirtless and bleeding, and untied the ropes that bound him. He massaged the young man's wrists and ankles, trying to rub life back into them. Then Steve offered Tony his coat, which Tony accepted - but he failed to make eye contact, which made Steve's heart squeeze like an orange being made into orange juice. When Tony tried to stand, his knees gave in; he had been kept on his knees for too long and they were still stiff as a log and painful as the fires off hell. Steve just picked Tony up as he had when he brought Tony to his room, like a bride (although the thought of Tony as his bride made Steve blush scarlet).

    By the time Steve had reached Marvel, Tony still hadn't spoken and Steve didn't know what to do, or what to say. Finally he took a deep breath. "Tony, I..." he paused, still not sure what to say to the damaged inventor. "I have to put you down, to ready Marvel. Do you think you can stand?" Tony just nodded, and Steve lowered him to the ground. Tony was a leaf in the wind, swaying yet not falling. Steve hurried to ready his mount, and when he turned back to Tony, he saw that Tony's head was tilted to the side as it was when he was trying to figure out some problem with one of his inventions.

    "Why did you come to save me?" Tony asked, and his voice sounded hollow, like how a doll's voice might sound, if it could speak. Steve wasn't sure what to say. Why wouldn't I save you?

    Tony continued to speak, "I mean, the others must still be busy at the ranch. I must have ruined your plans for the day, and it's not like I am worth much-"

"- You're worth the world to me Tony! That's why I saved you!" Steve cried out, his voice raw with immutable passion. He blushed a particularly flattering shade of salmon-pink, the blush spreading across the planes of his cheeks like the tremulous dawn light spreading over the hills.

    Tony just stood there, gaping like a trout in a river. Then he shook his head and replied: "You can't care about me, I'm not good enough for you," and that comment nearly broke Steve's, strong, courageous, manly heart. Unable to bear the unfathomable depths of pain in his true love's eyes (for surely this tender and pure moment was only the handiwork of the most omnipotent Destiny and Fate), Steve decided to act, because his words seemed worthless. He strode over to Tony, placed one hand on Tony's cheek, making sure he couldn't look away, and then Steve leaned down and softly placed his pale, pink, full, luscious, scintillating, blueberry muffin-scented lips on Tony's.