Chapter Text
Stark Industry CEO Caught Cuddling With Cap?
Tony Stark had been staring at the headline blankly since he had noticed the paper on the workbench, the first thing to catch his attention in the ten hours he had been puttering around his workshop post-battle, intent on upgrading something. Regardless of the reason for his dive into his frankly magnificent workshop, the headline glared up at him, along with the photo of Pepper and Steve at a gallery opening that Tony had deemed the height of boredom, thus enabling the super soldier to super weasel his girl into his arms.
This thought process made Tony’s frown turn into a scowl.
They looked a little too cozy. Pepper’s smile was genuine and Steve looked relaxed, making Tony wonder- who knew he could look relaxed! It was a revelation. So was the nagging insecurity of setting up his girl with Captain America for any reason whatsoever. Insecurity was not a good look on him; in fact that whole idea was a mid 80’s flashback that he thought had been left firmly back at MIT or drowned under a metric ton of single malt whisky.
No. Tony considered. There it was.
Insecurity.
He ground his teeth, motioning for Dummy to bring the blowtorch away from the bench to use for a different application. Within seconds the morning edition of The Bugle was a smear of ash on his desk.
“Huh.” He felt strangely better, even if the innocuous picture was imprinted behind his eyelids. It wasn’t as if he doubted Pep, or thought Steve capable of that type of machination so much as the fact that it has elicited an emotional reaction. It had made him jealous. Sick jealous, ready to pitch a fit and take his toys and go home kind of jealous. Maybe create a mess that Pepper or Steve, or both had to clean up to prevent an international incident jealous.
All in all it seemed worth it to the billionaire, even if the nagging question in his mind was this- was he jealous that Steve was with Pepper or that Pepper was with Steve?
Tony cleared his throat, causing his bots to take up attentive stances. “That’s an uncomfortable revelation.”
Luckily Dr. Doom saved him the trouble of actually causing an international incident for distraction purposes, unleashing a swarm of scarab like bots on Central Park that stripped the foliage from the trees in less than five seconds and had started to gnaw on the surrounding buildings before Thor had thought to call down the mighty power of Valhalla, or whatever.
Honestly, the last thing he had wanted to do was answer Fury’s call, but he was a superhero after all. Also, someone on the team had to bring the swag. Even if that apparently wasn’t enough of a credential in his house anymore.
Tony Stark did not get jealous, he made people jealous. Jealous and angry. Also irrational, but definitely jealous. Irrationally jealous. He had always been an overachiever. Tony admitted to himself that he had to keep his hands busy or his brain was going to drive him crazy. More crazy. Strike that- more awesome. Considering the tiny mechanical bot, well it looked more like a Quidditch Snitch than a proper bot, but the more he looked at it seemed stupidly simple. He had the irresistible urge to take it apart.
He had never been particularly good with impulse control.
Regarding the tiny bot on its ad hoc autopsy table, he picked it up and held it aloft. “150 points to Slytherin. It’s time to bring the science.”
Two hours into re-engineering the jet black mini Doombot from hell, Tony had to admit that Latverian technology made no sense whatsoever. Like, producing the type of ass-backwards engineering that made Asgard and their batshit “magic” artifacts that seemed to fall on the Earth like god damn raindrops seem run of the mill- logical even.
“What kind of name is Doctor Doom, when we all know who you are Victor,” Tony muttered, screwdriver firmly held between his teeth. “Anyone who considers Mr. So-Called-Fantastic his nemesis has to be batshit. Am I right?”
Next to him, fire extinguisher at the ready, Dummy seemed to nod in agreement.
“Right. Note to self: stop talking to the bots.”
Be that as it may, the super villain had presented the billionaire superhero savant with a bit of a puzzle and one hell of a distraction from having to think. The tiny bot had come part into about two hundred small clockwork parts to reveal a center of nonferrous, dark metal that made the hair on his arms stand straight up when touched. Scans had shown mass, but nothing contained within. There were no seams, no catches, no rhyme or reason to the tiny power source and the challenge had ceased being challenging and had crossed over into being straight out, balls to the wall obsession.
He had tried sciencing the hell out of the bot for hours to no avail. Science was failing him, the dirty traitor. A half bottle of bourbon later and he was ready for less above board methods. That called for reinforcements. It was hammer time.
Tony pulled the screwdriver from his mouth and glanced at his pathetically empty coffee mug. “JARVIS, get me Thor!”
“Right away, sir,” his AI responded crisply, the ever present shade of very British censure in his voice. Tony frowned. Pepper had always been his favorite. Idly, he wondered what JARVIS thought about Steve- maybe Steve and Pepper. Would he lose JARVIS in the divorce?
Tony cleared his throat, refocusing. “Stop. Bad train of thought, back to science!”
Two hours, two bathroom breaks and four espressos later he could verify that the tiny heart of darkness did not bounce, did not break under pressure from Moljner and that it tasted awful. That particular test had been an accident and entirely the fault of Thor’s over exuberance.
The God of Thunder was most impressed, stopping all science periodically to give the sphere another taste of his strength, to no avail. “Friend Tony, we have magic such as this on Asgard. It is a worthy task to discover its secrets and unravel the puzzle.”
“We’re on to something, Big Guy.” Tony considered. “We need something stronger. Maybe a little Hulk Smash! JARVIS, get me Banner.”
“Sir, Doctor Banner has not returned from SHEILD. Would you like me to request his presence through his communication device, or shall I put my programing to better use and suggest a brief recess in disassembling the bot.”
Not for the first time Tony wondered why he’d given his AI the capacity for sass. “Be a darling, and get me Banner.”
“As you wish, Sir.”
One hour, ten text messages and another cup of coffee found Tony suited up as Iron Man while Thor held the heart of the Doombot out in the palm of his hand. The lab was in disarray, even taking into consideration what a disaster area it was on a regular basis.
When Bruce finally made it to the lab he was momentarily taken aback by the destruction. “Did a bomb go off in here?”
“Not yet,” Tony called back, without taking his eyes away from the wiring he was tweaking in Dummys control panel. “Just wait.”
“Why are you still in the lab?” Bruce was incredibly stealthy for a man who turned into a raging, green weapon of mass destruction. “You missed the debriefing. Fury was angrier than normal.”
Tony ignored all mention of Fury and by default their team leader of the pleasingly tight pants and girlfriend wooing with all the art and the tallness and the ma’ams. Taking his time, he closed up Dummy before lining up his repulsors with the sphere. Even Thor remained consumed by the task at hand. The erstwhile god was incredibly good at being single minded, he focused on bloody battle and toasting pop tarts with the same zeal.
Bruce idly picked up the casing of the dismantled bot from the abandoned workstation. He let his eyes wander over the test results still displayed above the table. A sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. “Have you been wearing the armor the whole time? Tell me you’re not using the armor as an energy source.”
“Wait, what?” Tony blinked, looked down at his armored state and blinked again. “No, of course not. Not really. It’s on for reasons. Reasons relating to science and not for dangerous purposes. Controlled experiment. Completely safe.”
When he smiled it was all teeth.
Bruce winced. It was never good when it sounded like Tony didn’t believe himself.
“What are you attempting to blow up?” Bruce glanced idly for the nearest exit. Dummy stood on call to his right, newly upgraded in some way with a fire extinguisher at the ready. Thor, who was to his right and looking solemn. “The magic sphere at the heart of Doom’s tiny mechanical minions had proven a worthy challenge.”
Sinking feeling turns into straight up dread in an instant.
Code Tony.
“The bot we battled today that Doom kept ominously referring to as the destroyer of history? “ Bruce cleared his throat and wrung his hands. Neither Thor nor Tony seemed to notice the tense set of his shoulders. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. JARVIS?”
“Yes, Dr. Banner?”
It was slightly terrifying when the AI’s voice sounded like salvation. “Alert Cap, before it’s too late.”
“Already done, but I fear it has been too late for some time. It may be prudent to evacuate non-essential staff from the Tower, if I may suggest?”
“Did you try Pepper?”
“I am afraid that Miss Potts has proven to be unreachable at this time.”
Bruce groaned. “We’re all going to die this time, aren’t we?”
“That seems likely, sir.”
“What is he doing?” Natasha asked before JARVIS could give him the statistics on imminent death, popping up without a sound and scaring Bruce out of his skin. She seemed unperturbed by his discomfort and the probable appearance of the Other Guy, casing the scene with disinterested eyes. “Fury wants Stark’s report on the last mission as well as the tech he took from the scene.”
“Fury can have it, but first whatever this is needs to be stopped,” Bruce answered, waving a hand in the direction of the makeshift fucked-up William Tell situation unfolding in front of them. “Like before we all die.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow as Clint materialized beside her. Unlike his stoic counter-part, Hawkeye was quick to be alarmed by the danger at hand even if he appeared as dispassionate as ever. “What new kind of hell is this?”
“We are applying the glorious power of the Man of Iron to our tiny foe from this afternoon,” Thor supplied with good cheer.
Clint blinked several times before grinding out, “What the fucking fuck, Stark. Bad plan.”
“Great story, Bro.” Tony deadpanned, firing up the suit with a rumble. “Tell it again after I finish this last experiment. Next time you can hold the heart of darkness.”
“What’s going on here?” Enter Captain America stage right, looking every inch the hero..
Tony wondered idly when he had granted everyone in the known world access to his workshop. He had probably been drinking.
Cap immediately attempted to take charge of the impending shit show. He took in the tableau as well as the panic on the face of their potential giant green rage monster. “Iron Man, stand down.”
Bruce could have wept at the sight of Captain America.
Steve was still in full uniform, just returned from SHIELD and looking worse for wear. Tony gave him an appreciative once over before remembering that his crazy brain couldn’t be trusted, and neither could Steve, before letting loose the full power of Iron Man on the tiny sphere. For a moment it seemed to glow, absorbing the power of the repulsors as it had all other force before it began to vibrate and release the energy outward in a blinding supernova of pure energy.
It was beautiful… and terrible.
Way more terrible.
Fuck.
Before he lost consciousness Tony managed a wholehearted, “Oops.”