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cap_ironman2012-01-02 05:26 am
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2012-01-02 05:26 am
Entry tags:
Happy Holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
espadas part two!
Title: Team Building Activities
Author:valtyr
Beta:dorcas_gustine
Rating: R
Parings: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Tony, Clint and Natasha are open to interpretation.
Universe: Movieverse
Wordcount: 40k
A/N: This got out of hand. You can carve that on my tombstone.
Summary: Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
The Internet was amazing. Steve wanted it forever - the fact he could carry it about in his hands was almost beyond his ability to comprehend. He just - thought of something he wanted to know, and there was a page for it. He'd asked about the index, and Tony had laughed; there were pages just to find the other pages, so he didn't need to do any work, just write in his question - the letters all appeared at the bottom of the screen - and it would offer him all kinds of things.
It offered him even more kinds of things when he'd turned off SafeSearch; it hadn't taken him long to decide he preferred to be safe.
"Hey there! I hear someone's discovered the wilder reaches of the Internet." Tony was in the doorway, smiling at him; he looked kind of jumpy, glancing back down the corridor.
"Tony," Steve set the tablet aside, and rose to his feet. "This is wonderful. Thank you."
"Not a problem. Just, uh, you be careful out there."
"Nick came and talked to me about the Internet," Steve picked up the tablet again, turned it over and traced his fingers over the engraving. "They've blocked some stuff for now, and he asked me not to get round it. Says it's for my own good."
"Yeah." Tony sat down on the bed, and Steve sat next to him. "Not that you can't handle it, but hey, one step at a time, right? So, uh."
"Do you have a Facebook?" Steve tilted the screen towards him. "I found some fanpages, but - "
"No, I don't have that kind of time. I have a Twitter, but - better not, while you're still supposed to be secret. I mostly use it to argue with geeks. You've got my email, anyway."
"I do?"
"It's in your contacts."
"Okay, then." Steve was clearly going to have to check more thoroughly into what Tony had pre-loaded the tablet with.
"Tell me what you've been doing apart from cyberstalking Fury." Steve made a mental note to Google 'cyberstalking'. The Internet was so much easier than asking everyone to explain anything all the time. With this in his lap, he bet he could get through all the meetings just fine.
"They have the most amazing games," Steve dragged up the menu. "I have a farm. And a mine. And there's one with birds knocking down castles. And I went on YouTube and watched some clips from musicals - I really want to see the Oz one, it looks fun." He tapped at the screen, bringing up a list of favourites videos, and Tony leaned in to see.
"Ballroom dancing?"
"Yeah," he breathed out a sigh. "Yeah, I never learned to dance." Without really thinking, he tapped on his favourite, and they watched in silence as a slim dark woman foxtrotted across the floor in the arms of her partner. She was wearing a red dress with a full, glittery skirt, and her stockings were seamed at the back.
When the clip finished, he couldn't think of anything to say. Tony stayed leaning on his shoulder, a warm presence; it was nice to not feel totally alone. He had Tony here now, and later he could go up and grab Clint for basketball; maybe even scare up a few more people, get some teams. And Maria Hill had promised him a game of chess, and one of the SHIELD agents on Facebook had sent him an invitation to her birthday party - he didn't know if he'd be allowed to go, but it was nice to be invited.
It wasn't so bad, really, but his finger was sneaking towards the replay button when Tony spoke.
"Is this your only room?" He peered about with an air of dissatisfaction. "You don't even have a window."
"What would I do with two rooms?"
"You don't even have a TV."
"I use the one in the break room. No one minds."
"But you've been here weeks. This is a closet. I can't believe -" Tony shook his head, and then grabbed Steve's arm. "Come on, get up, put shoes on, we'll go buy you an apartment, you can't live in this crummy little room. SHIELD couldn't spring for your own apartment?"
"No, they did offer." Tony opened his mouth, clearly about to argue, and Steve hunched down a little. "But I'm not really used to living alone. I used to live in a boarding house, and then the Army. I like being here; there's always someone to talk to."
Tony's face went mostly blank, a little considering. Steve waited, somewhere between doubt and worry, to hear the next turn in the conversation, and was saved by a chime from his tablet; he had an email.
"Oh, it's Nick," he said, and clicked on the Facebook link. Tony cackled.
"Oh my God, is he holding a puppy?"
Steve thought it was quite a nice profile picture; Nick was holding a spaniel puppy, and a little girl he suspected was a grandchild. He voiced this opinion, and Tony snorted.
"Not a chance. Fury's too paranoid to have his family on Facebook. That's probably a hired model. It's probably Natasha in disguise."
"Uh-huh." Steve clicked on the message.
"Does he want you to harvest his crops? Oh, a meeting?"
Bring Stark, it said at the end. Steve sort of liked how unsubtle they were about their surveillance of him. At least they were being honest with him. Some of the time, anyway.
Natasha was back; she'd cut off her lovely long hair to chin level, a style so familiar Steve's breath stopped in his throat.
"Everything okay, Steve?" She caught his expression, but didn't seem to have placed the reason, so he forced a smile, and took a seat beside her, Tony at his other hand.
"Just surprised to see you."
"I'm attending a conference on genetics in Pennsylvania." She gave them a satisfied smile. "And then a big black car appeared to whisk me away; gossip is already spreading that I'm at a top-secret briefing on the Blonsky research."
"Which is technically true," Clint put in, slipping into the room and planting a kiss on Natasha's cheek. "I like the sexy schoolmarm look, it's very you." Steve privately agreed; in the well-cut skirt and coat, she could pass for a woman from his own time.
Fury entered, and Natasha and Clint both stiffened like hunting dogs going to point, eager eyes following him as he crossed the room and settled opposite them. Tony kicked back in his chair and put his shoes up on the table.
"How come Steve gets to call you Nick?" he demanded, and Fury eyed him.
"Do you want to call me Nick?"
"No."
"And there you have your answer. On with the briefing. Natasha, how are things progressing?"
"Excellently. I'm impersonating Dr Anna Gvozdareva, a Ukrainian geneticist whose previous work is in an unconnected field; she's only had her PhD three years, so there's virtually no chance Banner will be familiar with her or her work, and there's very little information about her available online. I'm listed on the faculty of the Novosibirsk branch of the Russian Academy of Science, and I have an office there. Dr Gvozdareva is currently enjoying an Alaskan cruise under the name of Rose Anderson, and has expressed a willingness to tour Machu Picchu if we need more time."
"I love the spirit of international co-operation," Tony said. "You get your rumours seeded?"
"I drank a great deal of vodka in the bar last night, and over-shared a little about my incredible good fortune. I didn't give away details - but I hinted enough. There's an article coming out in Scientific American next week that's been mis-attributed to Professor Awad, who is a prominent Iranian geneticist who speaks very little English; Dr Banner is not known to speak any Persian, which is Professor Awad's first language. We're monitoring Professor Awad's email and telephone, and if Banner gets in touch, his communication will be redirected to an agent who will feign poor understanding, and direct him to Dr Gvozdareva for further information."
"What's in the article?" Clint asked.
"A theoretical piece about the ongoing mutation process, based on observations on an unnamed subject published in the Scientific Journal of Latin America. We've inserted these observations to the web edition of the journal; they're in Spanish, which Banner does speak, but not with great fluency. The description is specific enough he'll recognise it as Blonsky; and Dr Gvozdareva is thanked in the author's note."
"That should do it," Tony agreed. "What about his girlfriend?"
"Dr Ross was at the conference; she'll no doubt pick up on the rumours. I didn't approach her directly for fear of raising suspicions." She shrugged. "We monitor her communications, of course."
"But he knows that, so that's a really long shot." Clint said. "So. He'll have to go to Dr Gvozdareva."
"And what will you tell him?" Steve asked.
"Anything to keep him busy long enough for the army to spring their trap." She made a face. "I'll bet you now they mess it up, though, so I want this op off my record."
"Can do, Natasha," Fury spoke at last. "You're doing good work, but Ross won't share at all what they're planning this time. We're supposed to get him to the location, and then step back. If he screws it up, I'll see it doesn't splash on to you."
"Still leaves Natasha at ground zero of a Banner transformation," Clint said disapprovingly. She rolled her eyes, very slightly.
"Like I can't handle it."
"Best you don't," Steve said. "Keep your cover up; Banner hasn't harmed a civilian in over a year." Natasha made a face, obviously displeased at the thought of playing possum, but then she shrugged.
"Never break a cover unless you have to."
"You want Clint?" Fury pointed his pen at Clint, who looked hopeful. "Ross has been asking to add him to the loan."
"Don't need him." Clint pouted, and slouched in his chair. "Anyway, you'll end up lending him the whole team at this rate, and then - "
"He's not getting Cap," Fury said flatly. "And he doesn't want Stark."
"It's lucky I'm a narcissist or I'd be getting a complex," Tony put in, and Steve patted his shoulder.
"We want you, Tony."
"We're just playing hard to get," Clint added, and Natasha snorted with laughter, and stood up.
"I should get going; there's a meet and greet at three, and I want to play down everything I said last night. That'll get suspicions going." She grinned, wickedly. "Be good, everyone."
"Pepper, Pepper - Clint, what the hell are you doing in my penthouse?" Pepper looked up to see Tony standing in the doorway, eyeing Clint, who sat cross-legged in front of the TV, with affected suspicion.
"I told Pepper you'd said I could come over and use your big TV." Clint nodded to Pepper, who returned her eyes to her laptop and curled her feet up under her.
"See, that's funny, I don't remember telling you that that." Pepper had rather suspected that, but Clint was an excellent source of gossip, and could be counted upon to tell her what Tony had been up to.
"Well, you're getting kind of old. Memory's the first to go. Hey, while you're up, you wanna get me a beer?" He didn't look away from the TV, but Pepper could see him grinning.
"Did you bring any beer?"
"It's cool if you don't have any, I'll have whatever you're having."
"Martini for me," Pepper said, and Tony sighed in a put-upon fashion and turned towards the kitchen.
He came back with the drinks, and dropped a kiss on Pepper's hair when he gave her hers.
"Isn't it weird to live with your ex?" Clint said, and Tony kicked him gently in the shoulder on his way back to the couch.
"We don't live here. We're staying here, just like we always do when we have business in New York."
"You going back to Malibu, then?" Clint didn't look away from the screen, but Pepper had to check Tony's expression, which was blank. Tony wasn't CEO anymore, but as chief engineer and majority shareholder, she did need to be in near-constant contact with him. Not to mention that if he planned to live in New York permanently, they should probably re-structure - most of his pet projects were based in the Malibu facilities.
"Maybe. It's not a long flight. Four thousand kilometres."
"I'm available for apartment-sitting."
"I have a super-advanced AI keeping an eye on things, thanks. He doesn't drink my beer, either." He tapped his fingers on the stem of his glass, a nervous habit she'd noted before; he was turning over a new idea, somewhere. "Does living with an AI count as living alone?"
"Yes," Clint said firmly. "You're anti-social to the point of pathology."
"Not for me, idiot. Steve's still living in SHIELD HQ." He was frowning, now, and Pepper felt a little rush of tenderness. It was just like Tony, for his first impulse to be moving the man into his own home. It would probably resolve into an attempt to buy him his own apartment; and maybe not a bad thing if he succeeded.
"So are Natasha and I."
"But you're losers, and - " Tony's phone chirped, and Clint's rang. Tony glanced at the screen, and then grabbed the remote and turned over from Clint's movie.
"Yeah," Clint said, and turned to look at the screen, which featured explosions, snow, the US and Russian armies, and a vast green monster on a rampage. "Yeah, I - okay, yeah. Sure." He folded the phone shut, and Tony muted the TV. "Stark, you got the armour handy? Need a lift to Siberia."
"Let me guess," Tony glanced at the screen. "Novosibirsk."
"You coming, or not? Banner took Natasha."
"Say what?" Tony sat up, and Pepper suppressed a gasp.
"Army screwed it up, she played helpless civilian, he grabbed her and took off. Natasha doesn't know shit about genetics, and he'll figure that out fast." Clint swallowed. "If he figures that out when he's transformed, she won't have a chance. They're in fucking Siberia, Tony, she's not even got her cold-weather gear on - "
"Okay, okay, don't get undignified on me," Tony was on his feet, and Pepper considered the possibilities of arguing with them. She didn't like her chances.
Clint and Tony left without a backwards glance, and she opened her phone, and called Fury.
"Hill," said Maria Hill's brisk voice, and she bit her lip.
"It's Ms Potts," she said. "I was hoping to speak to Steve Rogers."
A pause, very short; then I'll tell him you called and the line went dead. Agent Hill wasn't known for wasting words, which was definitely a quality to be appreciated; or so Pepper told herself.
Her phone rang in less than a minute, unknown number, and she opened it.
"Hello, Miss Potts," said a vaguely familiar voice. "Agent Hill said - "
"Tony and Clint are going to Russia."
"You did the right thing calling me," he said without a second's hesitation. "Can I speak to them?" Pepper tapped in the code that would bring the workshop's line in, and then the code that overrode Tony's busy signal. A tiny picture showed up on her screen, two figures waving their arms at each other.
"You'll be a fucking icicle, that's why," Tony was saying, already in the armour. "Look, why don't I go - "
"Tony?" Steve said dubiously, and both figures spun like guilty marionettes, looking up and around. "Are you guys going to come get me to go to Russia? Should I come over there?"
Pepper clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a shriek. That was not the plan.
"Who's going to Russia?" Clint said, recovering fast. "Tony and me, we're just - "
"You can't go without me," Steve interrupted plaintively. "We're a team. How did you find out where Banner took her?"
"We don't know," Tony shrugged with a whir of machinery. "We're just going to fly out to Novosibirsk and have a look round, you know."
There was a pause, long enough for everyone to acknowledge the stupidity of that plan.
"Why don't I come over," Steve said. "And we can come up with a better plan before we head out?"
Tony looked at Clint, who shook his head and dropped into a chair as if his strings had been cut.
"Yeah, Steve," Tony stepped back toward the plate that would help him take his armour off. "Why don't you do that."
Steve arrived within fifteen minutes; he was carrying a large bag. "Cold weather kit," he explained at Tony's raised eyebrow. "I brought Clint's gear."
Pepper was going to be assassinated by SHIELD, she decided glumly. Who would have thought Captain America was a rule-breaker? She was just going to believe this was all a ploy to keep them occupied, and he had no intention of charging off to Siberia to fight monsters.
She occupied herself reading through Twitter tags; the shambles of #greenmonster, #russiamonster, and #unjollygreengiant made her wish Bruce Banner's identity was public. It would be easier to do searches on him. The consensus seemed to be that he'd flipped out in a cafe, levelled an entire block, and kidnapped a woman, presumably Natasha.
Clint was sitting on the couch, watching the news coverage; there was blurry footage of Banner leaping away with a female figure tucked under his arm. Steve sat down next to him, and put an arm around his shoulders.
"I should have gone with her," Clint was gripping the remote tight enough to dent the brushed metal casing. "They asked for me."
"And she said she didn't need you," Steve said soothingly. "Let's focus on getting her back."
"Yeah," Tony flopped down on the other side of him, and patted his knee. "Chin up; I just texted Rhodey, and he says if I loan him a suit, he'll come with us. They keep the War Machine locked up, or something."
"Yeah?" Clint turned his head. "That's really great of you, man."
"Hey, no problem."
"I mean, having someone in armour who isn't a total flake - " Clint gave him a sly look, and Tony huffed in annoyance. Pepper still hadn't quite worked out whether Clint liked Tony or not; she supposed being a secret agent made you accustomed to keeping people guessing,
"Oh, I guess we're feeling better, huh. Stop hugging him, Steve, he doesn't deserve your love."
"Okay, Tony, can you do the map thing for Siberia?"
"You bet. JARVIS? Do the lights, show Captain Rogers the world. Shining, shimmering and splendid at your discretion."
Twenty minutes later, when Clint was explaining that of course Natasha had a compass and GPS on her, Director Fury walked in.
"Will you stop fucking with JARVIS," Tony said to him. "Wait, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be looking for Natasha?"
"You've found her?" Clint sat down on the couch, eyes fixed on Fury's face. "Is she okay?"
"She briefly hooked up with a Russian unit - long enough to get proper gear and a weapon, and send a message. Said she was going after Banner, and I should, I quote, stop Clint from doing anything fucking stupid like chasing after me."
"I'm not going to chase after her now," Clint grabbed the remote, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "She says she's fine, she's fine. As long as Ross' goons aren't involved."
"Well," Tony shrugged, and waved a hand through the white light of Siberia, which obediently dispersed. "That was fun. What, you couldn't call?"
"I figured I had to come and pick up Captain Rogers," Fury bent a stern gaze upon Steve, who put his chin up and gazed off into the distance, looking heroic. "I will not discuss the effect on my blood pressure to get Agent Romanova back, and then find Captain America has apparently dispersed into the ether. I am assuming Stark taught you how to hack the security systems?"
"What?" Tony looked up indignantly. "I did not."
"No, I - looked it up on the Internet," Steve rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes sliding sideways to check on Fury's expression. "I had to adapt it a bit - "
"I remember fondly the days you burst through walls and ran away," Fury said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Clint, would you like a ride back with us?"
"Sure," Clint said. "I was going to make Stark drive me back, so."
It was 2AM. When the door shut behind them, Pepper closed her laptop. Tony sprawled out on the couch again, staring at the news.
"Enjoying teamwork?" She tried for a teasing tone, but it came out serious. Tony shrugged, and kicked the arm of the couch.
"I don't need Barton nursing a grudge against me. If flying him to Siberia saves me getting an arrow in the ass, it's good enough." He lifted his head to glare. "You shouldn't have called Steve."
"I was hoping he'd stop you," she admitted, and Tony laughed.
"Yeah, surprised me too. He's good people."
Pepper sighed, and quietly abandoned the idea that Steve might be a good influence on Tony.
It was three days until Tony could get an appointment with Fury; and when he got to Fury's office, he discovered Clint parked on the couch, polishing arrowheads.
"What's he here for? Did you actually get Clint up here to menace me with archaic weaponry? Next time I'm bringing the armour."
"I like your confidence there will be a next time," Fury settled on the edge of his desk, giving Tony the creepy yet benevolent smile. "Right now, I'd say your chances of ever getting another meeting with me are dropping fast.
"Well, maybe I wanted a private talk, which means not Clint, because he squeals to Pepper, don't think I don't know."
Fury folded his arms, and fixed Tony with a very serious expression.
"Clint has your best interests at heart, Stark. He only tells Ms Potts things he thinks she ought to know." Clint snickered, and Tony gave them both the bird. Fury grinned. "Natasha's due in; her debriefing overrules - well, I'm not sure exactly what you want, but I'm sure Natasha's is more important. But you can stay and listen, if you want."
"Oh, fine," Tony flopped down beside Clint, who kicked him in a friendly way. More or less, he'd just been invited to sit in on a top-secret debriefing, which meant he was currently being approved of; and that meant if he didn't piss Fury off, he had a good chance of getting his private meeting afterwards. "Is Steve here? He should be here."
"He's in medical," Clint said, and Tony's heart skipped. Surely - "They can't stop running tests on him, they're coming up with new ones just for him. They made him hang by his hands for four hours on Tuesday." Oh, right. Still trying to reverse-engineer Captain America.
The door clicked open, and Natasha strutted in. She put her hands on her hips, and looked down her nose at them.
"Guess who knows Banner's next stop," she declared, and Clint dropped his arrows to applaud.
"Excellent work, Natasha," was all Fury said, and Natasha's grin widened.
"He's currently en route to New York. And he's going to find Dr Ross."
"And how do you know that?" Fury's eye narrowed. "How did you arrange that, should I say?"
"I didn't break cover; he thought he was rescuing me, I suppose. Jumped us out and then changed back, and I freaked out. Babbled all kinds of nonsense, and left him with the idea Dr Ross was involved in a project to find a cure for the secondary mutation, and that she had most of the information. Then I just kept having hysterics until the army showed up, and he ran again."
"You're sure he's going there, though?" Fury frowned, and Tony butted in.
"How did that take you three days?"
"It didn't. After I spoke to Fury, I - acquired some equipment from the unit I was with, and set out after Banner. I followed him for two days, and when he took cover in a shack, I broke in, stole his iPhone, hacked his voice notes, and returned it."
"You spent two days tracking Banner through Siberia?" Tony goggled at her. That settled it; Natasha was an indestructible robot sent back in time for some dire reason, and was only working for SHIELD to fund her motor oil habit. "And how did you steal his phone? How was his phone even still working?"
"I had a spare battery with me, fortunately. He was sleeping with it under his pillow, so I didn't have to search him for it. I got straight out and came here, so if we're lucky, we can intercept him on the way, before the army get a chance to mess it up again!" She actually broke into a dance, swaying on her epic heels, and to Tony's mounting freaked-out-ness, Fury straightened up, took her hand, and they did some kind of weird sliding step across the room. They did a showy twirl before Fury dipped her neatly over the couch and then deposited her in Clint's lap.
"I love it when a plan comes together," Natasha declared and Clint tugged on one of her curls. Tony could barely find it in him to be creeped out by the thought of Natasha watching the A-Team; he was watching Fury's feet as they one-twoed back across the office with disturbing precision.
"Something wrong, Mr Stark?" Nick said, eyebrow going up, and an idea sparked in Tony's brain.
"Is that a foxtrot?"
"It may, indeed, be a foxtrot. SHIELD undercover agents are expected to be able to dance. I believed your dancing skills were limited to the society function waltz."
"Actually Rhodey and I were ballroom dance champions at MIT, it's not in my file, my competition name was Tonietta. Rhodey insisted. Don't Ask, Don't Tell and all." Fury gave him a benevolent smile; sometimes your bullshit amuses me, Stark. "So, uh, listen, I heard you were having trouble finding a base for the Avengers Initiative."
Fury's smile lost warmth, turned speculative.
"I'd be interested in a permanent base for the team; it's not ideal to have them right here, tripping over the regular teams. Now, I think I did ask for your input as a consultant - "
"Well, I know I said..." he hesitated, and Fury's smile widened, and he quoted:
"Fuck you, Fury, I'm not - "
"But let's not dwell on the past. I may have come up with an alternate plan."
Fury looked interested, if suspicious; he rarely bothered to ask Tony for favours, as Tony took that as an excuse to be as annoying as possible; Fury very rarely had anything he wanted. Until now.
"You'll need to do something for me," Tony said, and gave his most convincing smile.
"Head up Rogers, do not play the bashful maiden, you are leading. If anyone is going to blush and simper, it will be me." Steve snickered, and Fury gave him a stern look.
"Do not laugh, do not smirk, do not stare off into space, and do not step on my foot. Again. I am a beautiful princess, and you will treat me like one. Guide me tenderly, do not haul me about like a sack of potatoes." He took a firm step backwards, and Steve obediently followed him. Fury had been surprisingly receptive to the idea of teaching Steve to dance, and had found space on his calender the very next day.
"You know I could have taught him to dance," Natasha said in an undertone, and Tony shrugged. The gym was almost empty, as was usual on a Friday night in SHIELD HQ; there was a lone agent on an exercise bicycle who seemed to be trying hard not to see Director Fury foxtrotting about.
"I figured he'd be less nervous with Fury. Fury is his favourite person, have you noticed that? He's a trusting little lamb with him."
"Director Fury is military. Duh." Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was a tiny smile curving her lips. "Cap knows the rules for playing with military assholes."
"There's rules to Fury?"
"Well, no," Natasha dipped her eyelashes demurely. "But he's been sticking to the military asshole rules around Cap."
"So you think he's more comfortable with the military?" Tony pursed his lips, and Natasha sighed in the way that made it very clear he was a moron.
"Virtually everyone he loved or was fond of was in the military or associated with them in some capacity," she said. "What do you think? But we can't just ring up Army HQ and ask them to send over a soldier to be friends with him. Aside from the fact it's ridiculous, they'd try and use it as leverage."
"They still trying to borrow Clint?"
"They want Cap; say he's one of theirs. They tried to claim he was still active duty, would you believe?" She shrugged. "Considering the mess they're making of the Banner situation - "
"What, what's happened now?"
"I was assisting in the spirit of co-operation. And now they have that information, they don't feel they need to co-operate any more, and they've shut us out completely." Her lips went tight.
"So what are they doing?"
"They're not telling us."
"Wow, if only we had ways other than official channels. Maybe a superhot superspy or something." He waggled his eyebrows, and she gave a little twitch of her lips that managed to convey both total disdain and acknowledgment of the fact that yes, she was superhot.
He'd thought Natasha was completely unreadable at first; but it turned out she could turn that on and off at will. Tony kind of wished he could do that. Looking like a mannequin would be useful at board meetings.
"If I had any information, I would not gossip about it to you." She turned her eyes back to Steve and Fury; they were skimming about the floor like dragonflies over water, though Fury was still barking insults and commands.
"He's picking that up fast."
"He is," Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, and that little crook of her mouth was definitely appreciation as they executed a complex turn, Steve half dipping Fury in a move that displayed the muscles of his back and broad shoulders to great advantage.
Tony made a mental note to suggest to Steve that Natasha killed her sexual partners. It wouldn't do to have Natasha poisoning Steve's mind. He still mostly thought Tony was a nice fellow, after all.
Tony had coaxed Pepper into accompanying him; she'd offered to just let him borrow the car, but he'd taken it - or pretended to take it - as a suggestion he wasn't sincere in wanting her around, and the resulting hail of extravagant assurances drove her to compliance. He escorted her through the halls of black-clad ninjas, and settled her in a futuristic chair at a gleaming steel table with a large A engraved on it. Agent Barton was sitting opposite, watching Natasha, who was prowling around the perimeter, occasionally tapping on the walls.
"Hi, Tony," and Steve Rogers walked in and sat down beside him. "Good morning, Miss Potts." He gave her a polite smile, and then focused on Tony. "What's up? Fury said you wanted to call a meeting?"
"I love meetings," Tony patted Steve's hand. "How much do I love meetings? Pepper, how much do I love meetings?"
"I'm assuming it's a secret affair, Tony, as I rarely see you together."
"Hurtful," Tony made puppy eyes at Steve, who grinned. "You see what I have to put up with?"
"Gentlemen," Fury said from the door. "And Agent Romanova. Oh, and Ms Potts, what a pleasant surprise. May I have your attention, all?"
Natasha threw herself down next to Clint, leaning against his shoulder.
"I'm going to murder the Army, is that okay?" she asked Fury, who tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Perhaps not."
"Fine." She glanced round, and raised her eyebrows. "Should Potts be here?" She waggled her fingers in a not-unfriendly greeting, and Pepper smiled back.
"I'm sure we can trust Ms Potts' discretion in this matter." Fury smiled at her, and she tried to look like a person of discretion. "It's not a highly classified matter. Stark's offered to accommodate the whole team in his home."
"Stark's home is in Miami," Clint said. "Which I don't mind, but - "
"I have more than one home, idiot." Tony didn't look away from Steve, who was smiling at him.
"Your penthouse is fly, but it doesn't have room - "
"I have more than one home in New York." Tony pried his gaze off Steve's face long enough to glare at Clint. "I have a place big enough for all of us, my parents' house, nice garden, down Fifth Avenue, overlooking Central Park, very nice.
Clint stared at him.
"It sickens me you are so fucking rich you let a mansion on Fifth Avenue sit empty for decades," he announced, and jostled Natasha. "Natasha, how do we Communist revolution."
"It's not empty," Tony said, and waited three beats. "There's a butler taking care of it, of course - "
"Fuck you, man, I'm seizing control of the means of production, that is a disgrace." He pointed an accusing finger.
"You're a sniper. You don't produce anything." Tony put on a face of deep thought. "In fact, it's more of a service industry, isn't it? Like a hairdresser."
"What! What did you say. Oh my God," Clint fumbled for his gun. "No, don't stop me Natasha."
"I'm not stopping you," Natasha adjusted her position so Clint could get both hands on the gun. "I don't mind living at SHIELD HQ." Clint hesitated, gun barrel pointed safely ceilingwards. Pepper cast a glance at Fury, who was watching with amusement, apparently confident that either Clint wouldn't murder Tony, or that it could be covered up. It wasn't very comforting. She made a do something face at him, and he raised his eyebrow.
"I think," Fury said to Clint, "That if you shoot Stark, you will not be allowed to live in his decadent Capitalist wallow."
"Even if it's non-fatal," Tony added. He'd pulled out his phone, and was scrolling idly through his contacts. "People who shoot me don't get to live in my house, it's a rule."
"Oh, fine." Clint shoved his gun away.
"Collaborator," Natasha looked to be finding the whole situation hilarious. "You're no comrade of mine."
"Thank you, Tony," Steve said. "You're sure it won't be a bother?"
"Not at all. We brought the car, Pepper and me will take you over after this."
"What about the rest of us?" Clint said, and Tony waved vaguely at him, not looking away from Steve.
"I'll move you this evening if you promise not to claim my car for the revolution."
They agreed that they'd wait in the car for Steve while he packed, but as it turned out, he beat them there, having presumably abused his superpowers to go by his room and still outrun the elevator. He had a plain dark duffel bag, and a stylish blue case that contained his tablet, which he settled carefully on his lap as if were made of glass. He made surprised eyes when Tony dug for the minibar.
"You have a bar in the car?"
"Yes, but Pepper appears to have replaced all my whiskey with Midori and Frangelico. What do you make with espresso liqueur, Peps?"
"Mocha Russians. Put it back, Steve doesn't want a drink."
"Steve totally wants a drink."
"Maybe a soda?" Steve said, clearly trying for compromise, and that apparently satisfied Tony's urge to hospitality, though he did add a pink cocktail umbrella to Steve's tumbler.
"There, look, that's my house. Our house! The team's house. Avenger-house." Tony tugged insistently on Steve's sleeve until he peered out the window.
"It's... big," was his slightly stunned verdict as they pulled up the gravelled drive. "It's all yours?"
"Yup. Inherited it from my parents." They pulled up outside the broad white steps, and Tony took Steve's drink away, and put it back in the mini-bar. "Let's go."
Tony had selected the room next to his for Steve; it was one of the nicest, overlooking the garden, with a small balcony and its own bathroom.
"You like the room?" Tony shuffled after him like an eager puppy. "You don't like it, say the word, you can have another, have them all if you like, Clint can sleep in the coalshed and I don't think Natasha sleeps, so."
"No, it's really nice." Steve put his bag on a chair.
"You can redecorate. New furniture. Something a little more Forties?" Steve's mouth turned down a little, and Tony shook his head. "No Forties. But it's on the dull side in here, we could get you some art, maybe, how about some brighter colours? Pepper, maybe you could pick out some paintings for him?" Pepper gave him an unimpressed look; she still wasn't over him donating their art collection.
"Tony, it's great. Really." Steve peered out of the window, then opened the bathroom door. "Wow, that tub is huge."
"You want to unpack, or a tour? Tour, right, you need to know where everything is."
Tour guide fell to Pepper, of course, with Tony bobbing in their wake. Steve's eyes grew wider and wider as they peered into the drawing room, the library, the master bedroom and the huge kitchen.
"And this is the ballroom," she finished, and that was apparently the final straw.
"A ballroom?" he turned to Tony, who threw up his hands. Pepper had to admit that even by Stark standards, the gold-and-white ballroom with its three crystal chandeliers and endless mirrors was excessive. Huge glass doors led out onto the balcony, which had stairs down into the garden.
"Ma liked to dance, what can I say? And Dad liked to make her happy. Ballroom, parties, society, glittering throngs. Once I threw up in a duchess's lap."
"You - "
"I was five and I'd been at the buffet for three hours, it wasn't my fault, I was tiny and blameless and they made me wear a bowtie." Tony shrugged. "We can convert it to something useful. A training room."
"Tony, you don't - " Steve looked around. "This is your home, you don't have to - "
"It's just a house. Oh, maybe it would be a shame!" Tony's eyes lit. "We could have parties again. With dancing, you like dancing, Pepper, didn't you take salsa classes?"
"Well," Pepper hesitated. "I took a few, but strangely I always seemed to be working late - "
"Great, great. JARVIS?"
"Sir?" the familiar voice responded, and Pepper managed not to jump; she hadn't known JARVIS had been installed here.
"Play some salsa. Something easy for Pepper."
"Tony," she said, a little irritably - Tony couldn't dance, he could just about steer a pretty girl round the dancefloor. He grinned at her, and as the music started, he gave Steve a gentle push towards her.
"Show Steve some of your fancy footwork, okay?"
"What?" Steve dug his heels in, but Tony just clicked his tongue and grabbed Pepper's hand and folded it firmly into his. Steve had big, warm hands, and he blushed all the way to the tips of his ears when Tony took his other hand and set it on Pepper's hip. "Uh, I don't think, I'm sorry - "
"Oh, never mind," Pepper said resignedly. "Quicker to play along. Uh, you step like this - "
The problem was, of course, she could barely salsa herself, and she didn't really know the men's steps. Steve dutifully copied her footwork in reverse, and they backed and twisted across the dancefloor as gracefully as elephants.
"Can you pick her up and throw her?" Tony asked, and Steve gave him a horrified look. Pepper attempted a daggerlike stare, but he didn't look at her, probably on purpose. "You can, right, I've seen posters, you used to - "
"I just stood there, Tony."
"With a showgirl held aloft. Go on, spin her round your head or something."
"There's not going to be any throwing." Pepper ventured a comforting pat on Steve's broad shoulder. He ducked his head and peeked at her through his eyelashes. Then he smiled, and she almost missed a step. Good Lord, the man was handsome. She smiled back, and glanced over his shoulder at Tony, who was staring at them, head cocked slightly as if they were an interesting puzzle.
The music came to an end, and they both stepped firmly back from each other. Tony applauded vigorously.
"I should go unpack." Steve glanced at his watch. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Potts."
"What? Why?" Tony pouted at him. "Come on, dance again." Pepper edged towards him for a surreptitious kick, but he scooted away.
"Well, I," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I want to check my emails. I wasn't expecting to be out, you see - "
"Emails nothing. Farmville, right?"
"My crops will rot, Tony. It's wasteful."
"You know what, fine, go harvest your pixellated strawberries - no, don't tell me what they are, it doesn't matter. Do it fast, then come back." Steve put up his hands in defeat, backing towards the door, followed by Tony.
"I'll be quick," he promised, and turned and ran. Tony trailed him as far as the hall, stared up the stairs after him, absently flipping his phone from hand to hand; the expression on his face was one she'd seen very few time before, and it had usually been directed at her.
"Tony?" Pepper caught his hand, and squeezed it.
"Hm?"
"Steve's new to all this, you know. Play nicely with him."
"Why does everyone think I'm going to break Captain America, jeez." He looked genuinely affronted. "I like the guy, I'm not - "
"Yes, but," Pepper gathered her tact, and then discarded it. "He's probably not used to being liked quite like that."
"What?" Tony blinked at her guilelessly.
"Well, you know," she hesitated, and then gave it up. "You can be quite intense."
"That is not a bad quality, Pepper, it's charming, it makes me very compelling and interesting." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, lightly, gave her the soft eyes. "You like Steve, right? Good guy."
"He seems really nice," she said slowly. "I don't want to see him get hurt."
"Me neither!" Tony beamed at her. His other hand was creeping round her waist, tapping an idle rhythm on her spine; then suddenly, he let go and stepped away. "You wanna get lunch? I could eat. Let's get Steve, go get lunch."
"He's probably not done yet."
"We should take him out for a nice evening, now he's free of the SHIELD base. How about the theatre? Tomorrow?"
"I have a thing," she temporised, and he pouted. "Maybe ask Steve first; he'll want to settle in a bit."
"Right." Tony gnawed at his thumbnail. "Well, hey, why don't you and me go to see the ballet next week?"
"You hate the ballet."
"But you love it." He squeezed her hand. "Pepper. Pepper, Pepper - "
"All right, all right," she said, and he grinned at her.
"Rhodey, Rhodey, glad you could come." Steve looked up as Tony ushered a tall black man into the room; a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force.
"Urgent, you said." The presumed Rhodey cast a suspicious eye around the room, nodded politely to Steve. "I don't see an emergency. Are we going out?"
"I have a meeting. You - "
"You drag me here to - "
"To spend time with Steve," Tony turned him to face Steve. "Steve, this is Rhodey."
"Tony," Rhodey said from between gritted teeth, and Tony spoke over him.
"Rhodey, this is Captain America."
Rhodey's mouth snapped shut. Steve's eyes widened.
"Is he supposed to know that?" He was quite sure he was supposed to still be a secret.
"Sure, why not." Tony patted Rhodey's shoulder. "Rhodey, take him out, find a bar, he likes baseball and is a little bit scared of girls. Show him your iPhone, maybe."
Steve stood up, and offered his hand.
"Captain Steven Rogers," he said, and Rhodey visibly grabbed for the safety of social niceties and shook Steve's hand.
"Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes."
"Call him Rhodey," Tony ordered. "He's going to call you Steve. You're going to be friends. How about pool, Steve, you play pool? Rhodey, take him to somewhere with pool. You need money?"
"I have money, Tony, what the hell." Rhodey gave Steve a harried look. Steve shrugged.
"You can borrow the car," Tony said, and a glint came into Rhodey's eye and he cast a thoughtful look at Steve. "Help yourself."
Half an hour later they were installed at a pleasant, spacious bar, setting up a pool table.
"I'm sorry about Tony," Steve ventured, and the crease eased out from between Rhodey's brows.
"That's usually my line. No, don't worry about it - so you're, uh, the Captain America? I'd heard - I'd heard, I'm sort of the Air Force Avengers liaison, but - I mean, it's an honour, really, to meet- "
"You've served longer than I have." Steve could feel his face burning; SHIELD agents mostly treated him with detached professionalism. No one had looked at him with awe, and Steve definitely preferred it that way. "You, uh, want to break?"
"Yeah. Still." Rhodey smiled down at the table. "You're a piece of history, you know."
"I know." He didn't mean for his voice to sound so leaden, but Rhodey shot him a glance before bending to take his shot.
"Ah. Not so good?" The balls scattered, sinking two reds. "I'm red, then."
"Still - adjusting, I guess." Steve shook his head, and looked across at Rhodey, who was inspecting the table. "You'd know, I guess?"
"I got an idea. Long tour of duty, Captain." He missed his shot, and stepped back from the table.
"Long time coming home," and his throat closed for a second. He took his shot, and then another, and another, and Rhodey gave an impressed little hum. He misjudged the next one, which was almost a relief; if he never missed a shot, he could hardly play, and he remembered afternoons in pool halls with Bucky - "I didn't really have anyone to come back for," he said abruptly, stepping back from the table, and Rhodey nodded, strolling round the table. "I mean - they were all out there with me, you know? There wasn't anyone waiting."
Rhodey sank his shot, and sauntered round the table.
"You expected them to come back with you, though," he said, and Steve nodded.
"Yeah, I - at least - " he swallowed. "My, uh, my best friend died in action a month before I got frozen. I hadn't... It sounds stupid, but I'd never imagined my life without him; he was - I'd known him since we were kids. And I'm sure how to imagine my life now. What it's going to be." He looked hopefully at Rhodey, who was nodding. "You know?"
"A little bit," Rhodey met his eyes, and gave him a small smile. "I lost Tony in action, once, but - he came back. But the time he was gone - it's rough. I've known Tony since we were toddling, my dad was a test pilot for his dad, and when I thought he was gone - it was this huge, ridiculous hole in the world."
"Just like that," Steve said. "Yeah." He laid down his pool cue. "Do you want to go for a drive, maybe?" Rhodey's eyes lit up; he'd taken his time making his selection from Tony's garage, and they'd come away with a sleek Aston Martin.
"You bet," he said. "Anywhere particular in mind?"
Steve gauged his expression, and chanced his luck.
"Can we go to Arlington?"
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
Author:
valtyr Beta:
dorcas_gustineRating: R
Parings: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Tony, Clint and Natasha are open to interpretation.
Universe: Movieverse
Wordcount: 40k
A/N: This got out of hand. You can carve that on my tombstone.
Summary: Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
The Internet was amazing. Steve wanted it forever - the fact he could carry it about in his hands was almost beyond his ability to comprehend. He just - thought of something he wanted to know, and there was a page for it. He'd asked about the index, and Tony had laughed; there were pages just to find the other pages, so he didn't need to do any work, just write in his question - the letters all appeared at the bottom of the screen - and it would offer him all kinds of things.
It offered him even more kinds of things when he'd turned off SafeSearch; it hadn't taken him long to decide he preferred to be safe.
"Hey there! I hear someone's discovered the wilder reaches of the Internet." Tony was in the doorway, smiling at him; he looked kind of jumpy, glancing back down the corridor.
"Tony," Steve set the tablet aside, and rose to his feet. "This is wonderful. Thank you."
"Not a problem. Just, uh, you be careful out there."
"Nick came and talked to me about the Internet," Steve picked up the tablet again, turned it over and traced his fingers over the engraving. "They've blocked some stuff for now, and he asked me not to get round it. Says it's for my own good."
"Yeah." Tony sat down on the bed, and Steve sat next to him. "Not that you can't handle it, but hey, one step at a time, right? So, uh."
"Do you have a Facebook?" Steve tilted the screen towards him. "I found some fanpages, but - "
"No, I don't have that kind of time. I have a Twitter, but - better not, while you're still supposed to be secret. I mostly use it to argue with geeks. You've got my email, anyway."
"I do?"
"It's in your contacts."
"Okay, then." Steve was clearly going to have to check more thoroughly into what Tony had pre-loaded the tablet with.
"Tell me what you've been doing apart from cyberstalking Fury." Steve made a mental note to Google 'cyberstalking'. The Internet was so much easier than asking everyone to explain anything all the time. With this in his lap, he bet he could get through all the meetings just fine.
"They have the most amazing games," Steve dragged up the menu. "I have a farm. And a mine. And there's one with birds knocking down castles. And I went on YouTube and watched some clips from musicals - I really want to see the Oz one, it looks fun." He tapped at the screen, bringing up a list of favourites videos, and Tony leaned in to see.
"Ballroom dancing?"
"Yeah," he breathed out a sigh. "Yeah, I never learned to dance." Without really thinking, he tapped on his favourite, and they watched in silence as a slim dark woman foxtrotted across the floor in the arms of her partner. She was wearing a red dress with a full, glittery skirt, and her stockings were seamed at the back.
When the clip finished, he couldn't think of anything to say. Tony stayed leaning on his shoulder, a warm presence; it was nice to not feel totally alone. He had Tony here now, and later he could go up and grab Clint for basketball; maybe even scare up a few more people, get some teams. And Maria Hill had promised him a game of chess, and one of the SHIELD agents on Facebook had sent him an invitation to her birthday party - he didn't know if he'd be allowed to go, but it was nice to be invited.
It wasn't so bad, really, but his finger was sneaking towards the replay button when Tony spoke.
"Is this your only room?" He peered about with an air of dissatisfaction. "You don't even have a window."
"What would I do with two rooms?"
"You don't even have a TV."
"I use the one in the break room. No one minds."
"But you've been here weeks. This is a closet. I can't believe -" Tony shook his head, and then grabbed Steve's arm. "Come on, get up, put shoes on, we'll go buy you an apartment, you can't live in this crummy little room. SHIELD couldn't spring for your own apartment?"
"No, they did offer." Tony opened his mouth, clearly about to argue, and Steve hunched down a little. "But I'm not really used to living alone. I used to live in a boarding house, and then the Army. I like being here; there's always someone to talk to."
Tony's face went mostly blank, a little considering. Steve waited, somewhere between doubt and worry, to hear the next turn in the conversation, and was saved by a chime from his tablet; he had an email.
"Oh, it's Nick," he said, and clicked on the Facebook link. Tony cackled.
"Oh my God, is he holding a puppy?"
Steve thought it was quite a nice profile picture; Nick was holding a spaniel puppy, and a little girl he suspected was a grandchild. He voiced this opinion, and Tony snorted.
"Not a chance. Fury's too paranoid to have his family on Facebook. That's probably a hired model. It's probably Natasha in disguise."
"Uh-huh." Steve clicked on the message.
"Does he want you to harvest his crops? Oh, a meeting?"
Bring Stark, it said at the end. Steve sort of liked how unsubtle they were about their surveillance of him. At least they were being honest with him. Some of the time, anyway.
Natasha was back; she'd cut off her lovely long hair to chin level, a style so familiar Steve's breath stopped in his throat.
"Everything okay, Steve?" She caught his expression, but didn't seem to have placed the reason, so he forced a smile, and took a seat beside her, Tony at his other hand.
"Just surprised to see you."
"I'm attending a conference on genetics in Pennsylvania." She gave them a satisfied smile. "And then a big black car appeared to whisk me away; gossip is already spreading that I'm at a top-secret briefing on the Blonsky research."
"Which is technically true," Clint put in, slipping into the room and planting a kiss on Natasha's cheek. "I like the sexy schoolmarm look, it's very you." Steve privately agreed; in the well-cut skirt and coat, she could pass for a woman from his own time.
Fury entered, and Natasha and Clint both stiffened like hunting dogs going to point, eager eyes following him as he crossed the room and settled opposite them. Tony kicked back in his chair and put his shoes up on the table.
"How come Steve gets to call you Nick?" he demanded, and Fury eyed him.
"Do you want to call me Nick?"
"No."
"And there you have your answer. On with the briefing. Natasha, how are things progressing?"
"Excellently. I'm impersonating Dr Anna Gvozdareva, a Ukrainian geneticist whose previous work is in an unconnected field; she's only had her PhD three years, so there's virtually no chance Banner will be familiar with her or her work, and there's very little information about her available online. I'm listed on the faculty of the Novosibirsk branch of the Russian Academy of Science, and I have an office there. Dr Gvozdareva is currently enjoying an Alaskan cruise under the name of Rose Anderson, and has expressed a willingness to tour Machu Picchu if we need more time."
"I love the spirit of international co-operation," Tony said. "You get your rumours seeded?"
"I drank a great deal of vodka in the bar last night, and over-shared a little about my incredible good fortune. I didn't give away details - but I hinted enough. There's an article coming out in Scientific American next week that's been mis-attributed to Professor Awad, who is a prominent Iranian geneticist who speaks very little English; Dr Banner is not known to speak any Persian, which is Professor Awad's first language. We're monitoring Professor Awad's email and telephone, and if Banner gets in touch, his communication will be redirected to an agent who will feign poor understanding, and direct him to Dr Gvozdareva for further information."
"What's in the article?" Clint asked.
"A theoretical piece about the ongoing mutation process, based on observations on an unnamed subject published in the Scientific Journal of Latin America. We've inserted these observations to the web edition of the journal; they're in Spanish, which Banner does speak, but not with great fluency. The description is specific enough he'll recognise it as Blonsky; and Dr Gvozdareva is thanked in the author's note."
"That should do it," Tony agreed. "What about his girlfriend?"
"Dr Ross was at the conference; she'll no doubt pick up on the rumours. I didn't approach her directly for fear of raising suspicions." She shrugged. "We monitor her communications, of course."
"But he knows that, so that's a really long shot." Clint said. "So. He'll have to go to Dr Gvozdareva."
"And what will you tell him?" Steve asked.
"Anything to keep him busy long enough for the army to spring their trap." She made a face. "I'll bet you now they mess it up, though, so I want this op off my record."
"Can do, Natasha," Fury spoke at last. "You're doing good work, but Ross won't share at all what they're planning this time. We're supposed to get him to the location, and then step back. If he screws it up, I'll see it doesn't splash on to you."
"Still leaves Natasha at ground zero of a Banner transformation," Clint said disapprovingly. She rolled her eyes, very slightly.
"Like I can't handle it."
"Best you don't," Steve said. "Keep your cover up; Banner hasn't harmed a civilian in over a year." Natasha made a face, obviously displeased at the thought of playing possum, but then she shrugged.
"Never break a cover unless you have to."
"You want Clint?" Fury pointed his pen at Clint, who looked hopeful. "Ross has been asking to add him to the loan."
"Don't need him." Clint pouted, and slouched in his chair. "Anyway, you'll end up lending him the whole team at this rate, and then - "
"He's not getting Cap," Fury said flatly. "And he doesn't want Stark."
"It's lucky I'm a narcissist or I'd be getting a complex," Tony put in, and Steve patted his shoulder.
"We want you, Tony."
"We're just playing hard to get," Clint added, and Natasha snorted with laughter, and stood up.
"I should get going; there's a meet and greet at three, and I want to play down everything I said last night. That'll get suspicions going." She grinned, wickedly. "Be good, everyone."
"Pepper, Pepper - Clint, what the hell are you doing in my penthouse?" Pepper looked up to see Tony standing in the doorway, eyeing Clint, who sat cross-legged in front of the TV, with affected suspicion.
"I told Pepper you'd said I could come over and use your big TV." Clint nodded to Pepper, who returned her eyes to her laptop and curled her feet up under her.
"See, that's funny, I don't remember telling you that that." Pepper had rather suspected that, but Clint was an excellent source of gossip, and could be counted upon to tell her what Tony had been up to.
"Well, you're getting kind of old. Memory's the first to go. Hey, while you're up, you wanna get me a beer?" He didn't look away from the TV, but Pepper could see him grinning.
"Did you bring any beer?"
"It's cool if you don't have any, I'll have whatever you're having."
"Martini for me," Pepper said, and Tony sighed in a put-upon fashion and turned towards the kitchen.
He came back with the drinks, and dropped a kiss on Pepper's hair when he gave her hers.
"Isn't it weird to live with your ex?" Clint said, and Tony kicked him gently in the shoulder on his way back to the couch.
"We don't live here. We're staying here, just like we always do when we have business in New York."
"You going back to Malibu, then?" Clint didn't look away from the screen, but Pepper had to check Tony's expression, which was blank. Tony wasn't CEO anymore, but as chief engineer and majority shareholder, she did need to be in near-constant contact with him. Not to mention that if he planned to live in New York permanently, they should probably re-structure - most of his pet projects were based in the Malibu facilities.
"Maybe. It's not a long flight. Four thousand kilometres."
"I'm available for apartment-sitting."
"I have a super-advanced AI keeping an eye on things, thanks. He doesn't drink my beer, either." He tapped his fingers on the stem of his glass, a nervous habit she'd noted before; he was turning over a new idea, somewhere. "Does living with an AI count as living alone?"
"Yes," Clint said firmly. "You're anti-social to the point of pathology."
"Not for me, idiot. Steve's still living in SHIELD HQ." He was frowning, now, and Pepper felt a little rush of tenderness. It was just like Tony, for his first impulse to be moving the man into his own home. It would probably resolve into an attempt to buy him his own apartment; and maybe not a bad thing if he succeeded.
"So are Natasha and I."
"But you're losers, and - " Tony's phone chirped, and Clint's rang. Tony glanced at the screen, and then grabbed the remote and turned over from Clint's movie.
"Yeah," Clint said, and turned to look at the screen, which featured explosions, snow, the US and Russian armies, and a vast green monster on a rampage. "Yeah, I - okay, yeah. Sure." He folded the phone shut, and Tony muted the TV. "Stark, you got the armour handy? Need a lift to Siberia."
"Let me guess," Tony glanced at the screen. "Novosibirsk."
"You coming, or not? Banner took Natasha."
"Say what?" Tony sat up, and Pepper suppressed a gasp.
"Army screwed it up, she played helpless civilian, he grabbed her and took off. Natasha doesn't know shit about genetics, and he'll figure that out fast." Clint swallowed. "If he figures that out when he's transformed, she won't have a chance. They're in fucking Siberia, Tony, she's not even got her cold-weather gear on - "
"Okay, okay, don't get undignified on me," Tony was on his feet, and Pepper considered the possibilities of arguing with them. She didn't like her chances.
Clint and Tony left without a backwards glance, and she opened her phone, and called Fury.
"Hill," said Maria Hill's brisk voice, and she bit her lip.
"It's Ms Potts," she said. "I was hoping to speak to Steve Rogers."
A pause, very short; then I'll tell him you called and the line went dead. Agent Hill wasn't known for wasting words, which was definitely a quality to be appreciated; or so Pepper told herself.
Her phone rang in less than a minute, unknown number, and she opened it.
"Hello, Miss Potts," said a vaguely familiar voice. "Agent Hill said - "
"Tony and Clint are going to Russia."
"You did the right thing calling me," he said without a second's hesitation. "Can I speak to them?" Pepper tapped in the code that would bring the workshop's line in, and then the code that overrode Tony's busy signal. A tiny picture showed up on her screen, two figures waving their arms at each other.
"You'll be a fucking icicle, that's why," Tony was saying, already in the armour. "Look, why don't I go - "
"Tony?" Steve said dubiously, and both figures spun like guilty marionettes, looking up and around. "Are you guys going to come get me to go to Russia? Should I come over there?"
Pepper clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a shriek. That was not the plan.
"Who's going to Russia?" Clint said, recovering fast. "Tony and me, we're just - "
"You can't go without me," Steve interrupted plaintively. "We're a team. How did you find out where Banner took her?"
"We don't know," Tony shrugged with a whir of machinery. "We're just going to fly out to Novosibirsk and have a look round, you know."
There was a pause, long enough for everyone to acknowledge the stupidity of that plan.
"Why don't I come over," Steve said. "And we can come up with a better plan before we head out?"
Tony looked at Clint, who shook his head and dropped into a chair as if his strings had been cut.
"Yeah, Steve," Tony stepped back toward the plate that would help him take his armour off. "Why don't you do that."
Steve arrived within fifteen minutes; he was carrying a large bag. "Cold weather kit," he explained at Tony's raised eyebrow. "I brought Clint's gear."
Pepper was going to be assassinated by SHIELD, she decided glumly. Who would have thought Captain America was a rule-breaker? She was just going to believe this was all a ploy to keep them occupied, and he had no intention of charging off to Siberia to fight monsters.
She occupied herself reading through Twitter tags; the shambles of #greenmonster, #russiamonster, and #unjollygreengiant made her wish Bruce Banner's identity was public. It would be easier to do searches on him. The consensus seemed to be that he'd flipped out in a cafe, levelled an entire block, and kidnapped a woman, presumably Natasha.
Clint was sitting on the couch, watching the news coverage; there was blurry footage of Banner leaping away with a female figure tucked under his arm. Steve sat down next to him, and put an arm around his shoulders.
"I should have gone with her," Clint was gripping the remote tight enough to dent the brushed metal casing. "They asked for me."
"And she said she didn't need you," Steve said soothingly. "Let's focus on getting her back."
"Yeah," Tony flopped down on the other side of him, and patted his knee. "Chin up; I just texted Rhodey, and he says if I loan him a suit, he'll come with us. They keep the War Machine locked up, or something."
"Yeah?" Clint turned his head. "That's really great of you, man."
"Hey, no problem."
"I mean, having someone in armour who isn't a total flake - " Clint gave him a sly look, and Tony huffed in annoyance. Pepper still hadn't quite worked out whether Clint liked Tony or not; she supposed being a secret agent made you accustomed to keeping people guessing,
"Oh, I guess we're feeling better, huh. Stop hugging him, Steve, he doesn't deserve your love."
"Okay, Tony, can you do the map thing for Siberia?"
"You bet. JARVIS? Do the lights, show Captain Rogers the world. Shining, shimmering and splendid at your discretion."
Twenty minutes later, when Clint was explaining that of course Natasha had a compass and GPS on her, Director Fury walked in.
"Will you stop fucking with JARVIS," Tony said to him. "Wait, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be looking for Natasha?"
"You've found her?" Clint sat down on the couch, eyes fixed on Fury's face. "Is she okay?"
"She briefly hooked up with a Russian unit - long enough to get proper gear and a weapon, and send a message. Said she was going after Banner, and I should, I quote, stop Clint from doing anything fucking stupid like chasing after me."
"I'm not going to chase after her now," Clint grabbed the remote, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "She says she's fine, she's fine. As long as Ross' goons aren't involved."
"Well," Tony shrugged, and waved a hand through the white light of Siberia, which obediently dispersed. "That was fun. What, you couldn't call?"
"I figured I had to come and pick up Captain Rogers," Fury bent a stern gaze upon Steve, who put his chin up and gazed off into the distance, looking heroic. "I will not discuss the effect on my blood pressure to get Agent Romanova back, and then find Captain America has apparently dispersed into the ether. I am assuming Stark taught you how to hack the security systems?"
"What?" Tony looked up indignantly. "I did not."
"No, I - looked it up on the Internet," Steve rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes sliding sideways to check on Fury's expression. "I had to adapt it a bit - "
"I remember fondly the days you burst through walls and ran away," Fury said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Clint, would you like a ride back with us?"
"Sure," Clint said. "I was going to make Stark drive me back, so."
It was 2AM. When the door shut behind them, Pepper closed her laptop. Tony sprawled out on the couch again, staring at the news.
"Enjoying teamwork?" She tried for a teasing tone, but it came out serious. Tony shrugged, and kicked the arm of the couch.
"I don't need Barton nursing a grudge against me. If flying him to Siberia saves me getting an arrow in the ass, it's good enough." He lifted his head to glare. "You shouldn't have called Steve."
"I was hoping he'd stop you," she admitted, and Tony laughed.
"Yeah, surprised me too. He's good people."
Pepper sighed, and quietly abandoned the idea that Steve might be a good influence on Tony.
It was three days until Tony could get an appointment with Fury; and when he got to Fury's office, he discovered Clint parked on the couch, polishing arrowheads.
"What's he here for? Did you actually get Clint up here to menace me with archaic weaponry? Next time I'm bringing the armour."
"I like your confidence there will be a next time," Fury settled on the edge of his desk, giving Tony the creepy yet benevolent smile. "Right now, I'd say your chances of ever getting another meeting with me are dropping fast.
"Well, maybe I wanted a private talk, which means not Clint, because he squeals to Pepper, don't think I don't know."
Fury folded his arms, and fixed Tony with a very serious expression.
"Clint has your best interests at heart, Stark. He only tells Ms Potts things he thinks she ought to know." Clint snickered, and Tony gave them both the bird. Fury grinned. "Natasha's due in; her debriefing overrules - well, I'm not sure exactly what you want, but I'm sure Natasha's is more important. But you can stay and listen, if you want."
"Oh, fine," Tony flopped down beside Clint, who kicked him in a friendly way. More or less, he'd just been invited to sit in on a top-secret debriefing, which meant he was currently being approved of; and that meant if he didn't piss Fury off, he had a good chance of getting his private meeting afterwards. "Is Steve here? He should be here."
"He's in medical," Clint said, and Tony's heart skipped. Surely - "They can't stop running tests on him, they're coming up with new ones just for him. They made him hang by his hands for four hours on Tuesday." Oh, right. Still trying to reverse-engineer Captain America.
The door clicked open, and Natasha strutted in. She put her hands on her hips, and looked down her nose at them.
"Guess who knows Banner's next stop," she declared, and Clint dropped his arrows to applaud.
"Excellent work, Natasha," was all Fury said, and Natasha's grin widened.
"He's currently en route to New York. And he's going to find Dr Ross."
"And how do you know that?" Fury's eye narrowed. "How did you arrange that, should I say?"
"I didn't break cover; he thought he was rescuing me, I suppose. Jumped us out and then changed back, and I freaked out. Babbled all kinds of nonsense, and left him with the idea Dr Ross was involved in a project to find a cure for the secondary mutation, and that she had most of the information. Then I just kept having hysterics until the army showed up, and he ran again."
"You're sure he's going there, though?" Fury frowned, and Tony butted in.
"How did that take you three days?"
"It didn't. After I spoke to Fury, I - acquired some equipment from the unit I was with, and set out after Banner. I followed him for two days, and when he took cover in a shack, I broke in, stole his iPhone, hacked his voice notes, and returned it."
"You spent two days tracking Banner through Siberia?" Tony goggled at her. That settled it; Natasha was an indestructible robot sent back in time for some dire reason, and was only working for SHIELD to fund her motor oil habit. "And how did you steal his phone? How was his phone even still working?"
"I had a spare battery with me, fortunately. He was sleeping with it under his pillow, so I didn't have to search him for it. I got straight out and came here, so if we're lucky, we can intercept him on the way, before the army get a chance to mess it up again!" She actually broke into a dance, swaying on her epic heels, and to Tony's mounting freaked-out-ness, Fury straightened up, took her hand, and they did some kind of weird sliding step across the room. They did a showy twirl before Fury dipped her neatly over the couch and then deposited her in Clint's lap.
"I love it when a plan comes together," Natasha declared and Clint tugged on one of her curls. Tony could barely find it in him to be creeped out by the thought of Natasha watching the A-Team; he was watching Fury's feet as they one-twoed back across the office with disturbing precision.
"Something wrong, Mr Stark?" Nick said, eyebrow going up, and an idea sparked in Tony's brain.
"Is that a foxtrot?"
"It may, indeed, be a foxtrot. SHIELD undercover agents are expected to be able to dance. I believed your dancing skills were limited to the society function waltz."
"Actually Rhodey and I were ballroom dance champions at MIT, it's not in my file, my competition name was Tonietta. Rhodey insisted. Don't Ask, Don't Tell and all." Fury gave him a benevolent smile; sometimes your bullshit amuses me, Stark. "So, uh, listen, I heard you were having trouble finding a base for the Avengers Initiative."
Fury's smile lost warmth, turned speculative.
"I'd be interested in a permanent base for the team; it's not ideal to have them right here, tripping over the regular teams. Now, I think I did ask for your input as a consultant - "
"Well, I know I said..." he hesitated, and Fury's smile widened, and he quoted:
"Fuck you, Fury, I'm not - "
"But let's not dwell on the past. I may have come up with an alternate plan."
Fury looked interested, if suspicious; he rarely bothered to ask Tony for favours, as Tony took that as an excuse to be as annoying as possible; Fury very rarely had anything he wanted. Until now.
"You'll need to do something for me," Tony said, and gave his most convincing smile.
"Head up Rogers, do not play the bashful maiden, you are leading. If anyone is going to blush and simper, it will be me." Steve snickered, and Fury gave him a stern look.
"Do not laugh, do not smirk, do not stare off into space, and do not step on my foot. Again. I am a beautiful princess, and you will treat me like one. Guide me tenderly, do not haul me about like a sack of potatoes." He took a firm step backwards, and Steve obediently followed him. Fury had been surprisingly receptive to the idea of teaching Steve to dance, and had found space on his calender the very next day.
"You know I could have taught him to dance," Natasha said in an undertone, and Tony shrugged. The gym was almost empty, as was usual on a Friday night in SHIELD HQ; there was a lone agent on an exercise bicycle who seemed to be trying hard not to see Director Fury foxtrotting about.
"I figured he'd be less nervous with Fury. Fury is his favourite person, have you noticed that? He's a trusting little lamb with him."
"Director Fury is military. Duh." Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was a tiny smile curving her lips. "Cap knows the rules for playing with military assholes."
"There's rules to Fury?"
"Well, no," Natasha dipped her eyelashes demurely. "But he's been sticking to the military asshole rules around Cap."
"So you think he's more comfortable with the military?" Tony pursed his lips, and Natasha sighed in the way that made it very clear he was a moron.
"Virtually everyone he loved or was fond of was in the military or associated with them in some capacity," she said. "What do you think? But we can't just ring up Army HQ and ask them to send over a soldier to be friends with him. Aside from the fact it's ridiculous, they'd try and use it as leverage."
"They still trying to borrow Clint?"
"They want Cap; say he's one of theirs. They tried to claim he was still active duty, would you believe?" She shrugged. "Considering the mess they're making of the Banner situation - "
"What, what's happened now?"
"I was assisting in the spirit of co-operation. And now they have that information, they don't feel they need to co-operate any more, and they've shut us out completely." Her lips went tight.
"So what are they doing?"
"They're not telling us."
"Wow, if only we had ways other than official channels. Maybe a superhot superspy or something." He waggled his eyebrows, and she gave a little twitch of her lips that managed to convey both total disdain and acknowledgment of the fact that yes, she was superhot.
He'd thought Natasha was completely unreadable at first; but it turned out she could turn that on and off at will. Tony kind of wished he could do that. Looking like a mannequin would be useful at board meetings.
"If I had any information, I would not gossip about it to you." She turned her eyes back to Steve and Fury; they were skimming about the floor like dragonflies over water, though Fury was still barking insults and commands.
"He's picking that up fast."
"He is," Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, and that little crook of her mouth was definitely appreciation as they executed a complex turn, Steve half dipping Fury in a move that displayed the muscles of his back and broad shoulders to great advantage.
Tony made a mental note to suggest to Steve that Natasha killed her sexual partners. It wouldn't do to have Natasha poisoning Steve's mind. He still mostly thought Tony was a nice fellow, after all.
Tony had coaxed Pepper into accompanying him; she'd offered to just let him borrow the car, but he'd taken it - or pretended to take it - as a suggestion he wasn't sincere in wanting her around, and the resulting hail of extravagant assurances drove her to compliance. He escorted her through the halls of black-clad ninjas, and settled her in a futuristic chair at a gleaming steel table with a large A engraved on it. Agent Barton was sitting opposite, watching Natasha, who was prowling around the perimeter, occasionally tapping on the walls.
"Hi, Tony," and Steve Rogers walked in and sat down beside him. "Good morning, Miss Potts." He gave her a polite smile, and then focused on Tony. "What's up? Fury said you wanted to call a meeting?"
"I love meetings," Tony patted Steve's hand. "How much do I love meetings? Pepper, how much do I love meetings?"
"I'm assuming it's a secret affair, Tony, as I rarely see you together."
"Hurtful," Tony made puppy eyes at Steve, who grinned. "You see what I have to put up with?"
"Gentlemen," Fury said from the door. "And Agent Romanova. Oh, and Ms Potts, what a pleasant surprise. May I have your attention, all?"
Natasha threw herself down next to Clint, leaning against his shoulder.
"I'm going to murder the Army, is that okay?" she asked Fury, who tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Perhaps not."
"Fine." She glanced round, and raised her eyebrows. "Should Potts be here?" She waggled her fingers in a not-unfriendly greeting, and Pepper smiled back.
"I'm sure we can trust Ms Potts' discretion in this matter." Fury smiled at her, and she tried to look like a person of discretion. "It's not a highly classified matter. Stark's offered to accommodate the whole team in his home."
"Stark's home is in Miami," Clint said. "Which I don't mind, but - "
"I have more than one home, idiot." Tony didn't look away from Steve, who was smiling at him.
"Your penthouse is fly, but it doesn't have room - "
"I have more than one home in New York." Tony pried his gaze off Steve's face long enough to glare at Clint. "I have a place big enough for all of us, my parents' house, nice garden, down Fifth Avenue, overlooking Central Park, very nice.
Clint stared at him.
"It sickens me you are so fucking rich you let a mansion on Fifth Avenue sit empty for decades," he announced, and jostled Natasha. "Natasha, how do we Communist revolution."
"It's not empty," Tony said, and waited three beats. "There's a butler taking care of it, of course - "
"Fuck you, man, I'm seizing control of the means of production, that is a disgrace." He pointed an accusing finger.
"You're a sniper. You don't produce anything." Tony put on a face of deep thought. "In fact, it's more of a service industry, isn't it? Like a hairdresser."
"What! What did you say. Oh my God," Clint fumbled for his gun. "No, don't stop me Natasha."
"I'm not stopping you," Natasha adjusted her position so Clint could get both hands on the gun. "I don't mind living at SHIELD HQ." Clint hesitated, gun barrel pointed safely ceilingwards. Pepper cast a glance at Fury, who was watching with amusement, apparently confident that either Clint wouldn't murder Tony, or that it could be covered up. It wasn't very comforting. She made a do something face at him, and he raised his eyebrow.
"I think," Fury said to Clint, "That if you shoot Stark, you will not be allowed to live in his decadent Capitalist wallow."
"Even if it's non-fatal," Tony added. He'd pulled out his phone, and was scrolling idly through his contacts. "People who shoot me don't get to live in my house, it's a rule."
"Oh, fine." Clint shoved his gun away.
"Collaborator," Natasha looked to be finding the whole situation hilarious. "You're no comrade of mine."
"Thank you, Tony," Steve said. "You're sure it won't be a bother?"
"Not at all. We brought the car, Pepper and me will take you over after this."
"What about the rest of us?" Clint said, and Tony waved vaguely at him, not looking away from Steve.
"I'll move you this evening if you promise not to claim my car for the revolution."
They agreed that they'd wait in the car for Steve while he packed, but as it turned out, he beat them there, having presumably abused his superpowers to go by his room and still outrun the elevator. He had a plain dark duffel bag, and a stylish blue case that contained his tablet, which he settled carefully on his lap as if were made of glass. He made surprised eyes when Tony dug for the minibar.
"You have a bar in the car?"
"Yes, but Pepper appears to have replaced all my whiskey with Midori and Frangelico. What do you make with espresso liqueur, Peps?"
"Mocha Russians. Put it back, Steve doesn't want a drink."
"Steve totally wants a drink."
"Maybe a soda?" Steve said, clearly trying for compromise, and that apparently satisfied Tony's urge to hospitality, though he did add a pink cocktail umbrella to Steve's tumbler.
"There, look, that's my house. Our house! The team's house. Avenger-house." Tony tugged insistently on Steve's sleeve until he peered out the window.
"It's... big," was his slightly stunned verdict as they pulled up the gravelled drive. "It's all yours?"
"Yup. Inherited it from my parents." They pulled up outside the broad white steps, and Tony took Steve's drink away, and put it back in the mini-bar. "Let's go."
Tony had selected the room next to his for Steve; it was one of the nicest, overlooking the garden, with a small balcony and its own bathroom.
"You like the room?" Tony shuffled after him like an eager puppy. "You don't like it, say the word, you can have another, have them all if you like, Clint can sleep in the coalshed and I don't think Natasha sleeps, so."
"No, it's really nice." Steve put his bag on a chair.
"You can redecorate. New furniture. Something a little more Forties?" Steve's mouth turned down a little, and Tony shook his head. "No Forties. But it's on the dull side in here, we could get you some art, maybe, how about some brighter colours? Pepper, maybe you could pick out some paintings for him?" Pepper gave him an unimpressed look; she still wasn't over him donating their art collection.
"Tony, it's great. Really." Steve peered out of the window, then opened the bathroom door. "Wow, that tub is huge."
"You want to unpack, or a tour? Tour, right, you need to know where everything is."
Tour guide fell to Pepper, of course, with Tony bobbing in their wake. Steve's eyes grew wider and wider as they peered into the drawing room, the library, the master bedroom and the huge kitchen.
"And this is the ballroom," she finished, and that was apparently the final straw.
"A ballroom?" he turned to Tony, who threw up his hands. Pepper had to admit that even by Stark standards, the gold-and-white ballroom with its three crystal chandeliers and endless mirrors was excessive. Huge glass doors led out onto the balcony, which had stairs down into the garden.
"Ma liked to dance, what can I say? And Dad liked to make her happy. Ballroom, parties, society, glittering throngs. Once I threw up in a duchess's lap."
"You - "
"I was five and I'd been at the buffet for three hours, it wasn't my fault, I was tiny and blameless and they made me wear a bowtie." Tony shrugged. "We can convert it to something useful. A training room."
"Tony, you don't - " Steve looked around. "This is your home, you don't have to - "
"It's just a house. Oh, maybe it would be a shame!" Tony's eyes lit. "We could have parties again. With dancing, you like dancing, Pepper, didn't you take salsa classes?"
"Well," Pepper hesitated. "I took a few, but strangely I always seemed to be working late - "
"Great, great. JARVIS?"
"Sir?" the familiar voice responded, and Pepper managed not to jump; she hadn't known JARVIS had been installed here.
"Play some salsa. Something easy for Pepper."
"Tony," she said, a little irritably - Tony couldn't dance, he could just about steer a pretty girl round the dancefloor. He grinned at her, and as the music started, he gave Steve a gentle push towards her.
"Show Steve some of your fancy footwork, okay?"
"What?" Steve dug his heels in, but Tony just clicked his tongue and grabbed Pepper's hand and folded it firmly into his. Steve had big, warm hands, and he blushed all the way to the tips of his ears when Tony took his other hand and set it on Pepper's hip. "Uh, I don't think, I'm sorry - "
"Oh, never mind," Pepper said resignedly. "Quicker to play along. Uh, you step like this - "
The problem was, of course, she could barely salsa herself, and she didn't really know the men's steps. Steve dutifully copied her footwork in reverse, and they backed and twisted across the dancefloor as gracefully as elephants.
"Can you pick her up and throw her?" Tony asked, and Steve gave him a horrified look. Pepper attempted a daggerlike stare, but he didn't look at her, probably on purpose. "You can, right, I've seen posters, you used to - "
"I just stood there, Tony."
"With a showgirl held aloft. Go on, spin her round your head or something."
"There's not going to be any throwing." Pepper ventured a comforting pat on Steve's broad shoulder. He ducked his head and peeked at her through his eyelashes. Then he smiled, and she almost missed a step. Good Lord, the man was handsome. She smiled back, and glanced over his shoulder at Tony, who was staring at them, head cocked slightly as if they were an interesting puzzle.
The music came to an end, and they both stepped firmly back from each other. Tony applauded vigorously.
"I should go unpack." Steve glanced at his watch. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Potts."
"What? Why?" Tony pouted at him. "Come on, dance again." Pepper edged towards him for a surreptitious kick, but he scooted away.
"Well, I," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I want to check my emails. I wasn't expecting to be out, you see - "
"Emails nothing. Farmville, right?"
"My crops will rot, Tony. It's wasteful."
"You know what, fine, go harvest your pixellated strawberries - no, don't tell me what they are, it doesn't matter. Do it fast, then come back." Steve put up his hands in defeat, backing towards the door, followed by Tony.
"I'll be quick," he promised, and turned and ran. Tony trailed him as far as the hall, stared up the stairs after him, absently flipping his phone from hand to hand; the expression on his face was one she'd seen very few time before, and it had usually been directed at her.
"Tony?" Pepper caught his hand, and squeezed it.
"Hm?"
"Steve's new to all this, you know. Play nicely with him."
"Why does everyone think I'm going to break Captain America, jeez." He looked genuinely affronted. "I like the guy, I'm not - "
"Yes, but," Pepper gathered her tact, and then discarded it. "He's probably not used to being liked quite like that."
"What?" Tony blinked at her guilelessly.
"Well, you know," she hesitated, and then gave it up. "You can be quite intense."
"That is not a bad quality, Pepper, it's charming, it makes me very compelling and interesting." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, lightly, gave her the soft eyes. "You like Steve, right? Good guy."
"He seems really nice," she said slowly. "I don't want to see him get hurt."
"Me neither!" Tony beamed at her. His other hand was creeping round her waist, tapping an idle rhythm on her spine; then suddenly, he let go and stepped away. "You wanna get lunch? I could eat. Let's get Steve, go get lunch."
"He's probably not done yet."
"We should take him out for a nice evening, now he's free of the SHIELD base. How about the theatre? Tomorrow?"
"I have a thing," she temporised, and he pouted. "Maybe ask Steve first; he'll want to settle in a bit."
"Right." Tony gnawed at his thumbnail. "Well, hey, why don't you and me go to see the ballet next week?"
"You hate the ballet."
"But you love it." He squeezed her hand. "Pepper. Pepper, Pepper - "
"All right, all right," she said, and he grinned at her.
"Rhodey, Rhodey, glad you could come." Steve looked up as Tony ushered a tall black man into the room; a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force.
"Urgent, you said." The presumed Rhodey cast a suspicious eye around the room, nodded politely to Steve. "I don't see an emergency. Are we going out?"
"I have a meeting. You - "
"You drag me here to - "
"To spend time with Steve," Tony turned him to face Steve. "Steve, this is Rhodey."
"Tony," Rhodey said from between gritted teeth, and Tony spoke over him.
"Rhodey, this is Captain America."
Rhodey's mouth snapped shut. Steve's eyes widened.
"Is he supposed to know that?" He was quite sure he was supposed to still be a secret.
"Sure, why not." Tony patted Rhodey's shoulder. "Rhodey, take him out, find a bar, he likes baseball and is a little bit scared of girls. Show him your iPhone, maybe."
Steve stood up, and offered his hand.
"Captain Steven Rogers," he said, and Rhodey visibly grabbed for the safety of social niceties and shook Steve's hand.
"Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes."
"Call him Rhodey," Tony ordered. "He's going to call you Steve. You're going to be friends. How about pool, Steve, you play pool? Rhodey, take him to somewhere with pool. You need money?"
"I have money, Tony, what the hell." Rhodey gave Steve a harried look. Steve shrugged.
"You can borrow the car," Tony said, and a glint came into Rhodey's eye and he cast a thoughtful look at Steve. "Help yourself."
Half an hour later they were installed at a pleasant, spacious bar, setting up a pool table.
"I'm sorry about Tony," Steve ventured, and the crease eased out from between Rhodey's brows.
"That's usually my line. No, don't worry about it - so you're, uh, the Captain America? I'd heard - I'd heard, I'm sort of the Air Force Avengers liaison, but - I mean, it's an honour, really, to meet- "
"You've served longer than I have." Steve could feel his face burning; SHIELD agents mostly treated him with detached professionalism. No one had looked at him with awe, and Steve definitely preferred it that way. "You, uh, want to break?"
"Yeah. Still." Rhodey smiled down at the table. "You're a piece of history, you know."
"I know." He didn't mean for his voice to sound so leaden, but Rhodey shot him a glance before bending to take his shot.
"Ah. Not so good?" The balls scattered, sinking two reds. "I'm red, then."
"Still - adjusting, I guess." Steve shook his head, and looked across at Rhodey, who was inspecting the table. "You'd know, I guess?"
"I got an idea. Long tour of duty, Captain." He missed his shot, and stepped back from the table.
"Long time coming home," and his throat closed for a second. He took his shot, and then another, and another, and Rhodey gave an impressed little hum. He misjudged the next one, which was almost a relief; if he never missed a shot, he could hardly play, and he remembered afternoons in pool halls with Bucky - "I didn't really have anyone to come back for," he said abruptly, stepping back from the table, and Rhodey nodded, strolling round the table. "I mean - they were all out there with me, you know? There wasn't anyone waiting."
Rhodey sank his shot, and sauntered round the table.
"You expected them to come back with you, though," he said, and Steve nodded.
"Yeah, I - at least - " he swallowed. "My, uh, my best friend died in action a month before I got frozen. I hadn't... It sounds stupid, but I'd never imagined my life without him; he was - I'd known him since we were kids. And I'm sure how to imagine my life now. What it's going to be." He looked hopefully at Rhodey, who was nodding. "You know?"
"A little bit," Rhodey met his eyes, and gave him a small smile. "I lost Tony in action, once, but - he came back. But the time he was gone - it's rough. I've known Tony since we were toddling, my dad was a test pilot for his dad, and when I thought he was gone - it was this huge, ridiculous hole in the world."
"Just like that," Steve said. "Yeah." He laid down his pool cue. "Do you want to go for a drive, maybe?" Rhodey's eyes lit up; he'd taken his time making his selection from Tony's garage, and they'd come away with a sleek Aston Martin.
"You bet," he said. "Anywhere particular in mind?"
Steve gauged his expression, and chanced his luck.
"Can we go to Arlington?"
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
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This has everything the Avengers movie should have. Tony and Pepper having casual sex, and Rodney, and Nick FURY dancing with Natasha. I think that was one of my favorite scene, with Fury dumping her on Clint's lap. and Your Tony is adorable and I want to hug him all the time. And i love how Steve is so quick to catch on and notice everything they are holding out on him but is still kind of puzzled.
Srsly, mysterious author, this is so wonderfull I may die of joy before even managing to finish reading it. I can't even tell what is the most amazing in all the amazing moments and feelings you've put in there and it's only part 2 *o*
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Dear sweet lord, your Clint is cracking me up so hard. That whole scene wrecked me! I love the by-play between them all, especially Fury and Natasha's little dance, Tony not getting what's going on in his own head (and Pepper getting it before him), Steve not being naive or obtuse and his Farmville addiction. Ugh, this is so fricken cool, I wish I didn't have to go to sleep so I could keep reading! I love your characterisations, your voices are perfect.
You're wonderful, this fic is brilliant. By the end of it, I will be entirely at your mercy.
Much love <3