Steve Rogers (stars_n_stripes) wrote in down_time, @ 2009-05-06 23:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | captain america, iron man, rp |
RP Log
Who: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
What: Meet for the first time, yay!
When: About a week after they thaw Steve out.
Where: Steve's hospital room
Warnings: None!
Steve handled the remote control awkwardly. No matter how many times the nurses instructed him on its use, it still felt strange in his hands. The buttons were too small, obscurely labeled, and it seemed to him that he could cycle through channels endlessly without ever finding anything remotely interesting. He'd been reduced to watching cooking shows for the past few hours, not all of which were boring, but which he would gladly have traded for a novel or a sketchpad or even a magazine. They kept promising to bring him something to read, but so far all he'd been able to get his hands on were several issues of a glossy magazine called Cosmopolitan, which seemed to be entirely devoted to starving women, alarming clothes and makeup, and sex. Besides that, they smelled awful.
Sighing, he dropped the remote onto the bed and leaned back, wondering if he was ever going to be allowed out of this ridiculous hospital room. He felt fine, better than fine, but every time he asked to go outside, they cast strange, sideways glances at him and told him to wait until later. It was starting to piss him off.
His brief bout of self pity was interrupted by a short rap at the door, and he sat up a little straighter, eyes opening wide. This was a good sign. Nurses never knocked. "Come in!"
Tony had been at Shield since day one. They had to force him out every night, Pepper constantly called to remind him he had a billion dollar legacy to run, and Fury himself had stormed down from his seat on high to threaten legal action. But there was nothing that could push Tony away. After all, the man on the other side of the glass that he had been staring at for seven days was...well. It was Captain America, wasn't it? His hero. Everyone's hero! Since the moment his expedition team had located the signature of something...not quite right under the ice, he had been literally buzzing with the anticipation of meeting the man. When that day finally came, he could barely restrain himself to just knock on the door, as opposed to bursting through.
He opened the door with a grin and walked in, dressed in one of his more immaculate suits, still wearing sunglasses. "Brigadier General Rogers, right? That's what they're calling you now?" Tony made his way to the bed, offering his hand and tossing a long, brown paper package down onto a side table. "I'd say coming back from the dead is cause enough for significant promotion..."
"Yeah, that's what they're telling me," Steve answered, reaching out and taking the man's hand. There was something very familiar about his sleek face and fancy suit, but Steve couldn't quite place it. "I'm not sure how I feel about it, honestly. Haven't had a star on my collar before." He paused, then grinned sheepishly. "Just my chest. I'm Steve, but... I guess you already knew that." Usually he didn't talk so much, but it was good to have someone in here that wasn't a medical professional or a member of the top Army brass.
"Take my advice, just sit back and let the accolades roll in," Tony grinned, dragging a chair over and sitting down, finally removing his sunglasses and hanging them from his loosened tie. "They'll get sick of it eventually, and then you can get down to the business of kicking ass and tacking names. And, shit, sorry, I'm Tony. Tony Stark..." He paused, a habit he'd been born with. With such a well-known name, Tony had grown used to the usual excited chatter that followed introductions from a very young age. Really, he had no reason to think this meeting in particular would be any different.
Steve cocked his head to the side and squinted slightly. He recognized that name, but why? It took him a second to retrieve the memory, then he smiled broadly and nodded his head. "Stark, right," he exclaimed. "You're the one that found me!" He leaned forward again, took Tony's hand and clasped it hard. "Thank you for that. I'm still not sure about... anything, but I do appreciate that."
"Pfft, it was nothing," Tony grinned, waving his hand in nonchalance and keeping his delirious glee on the inside. It would be easy to launch into a confession of how Steve had been his childhood hero, how his office was lined with Captain America and Bucky memorabilia, or how finding him under the ice had been one of the most gratifying moments of his life...but that could come later. Now was the time for a decidedly muted version of Tony Stark.
"Really, I mean, it should be the rest of the world that's thanking me. You were a one of a kind find, my friend...and if there's anything I can do to help you acclimate, just let me know. I like to consider myself a very 21st century individual..."
"Yeah, that." Steve sat back and frowned slightly, glancing at the window. It looked out onto a rooftop, absolutely nothing that gave any clue as to what the world looked like now. All he knew about the world as it was now he'd been forced to learn from the television, and there was no telling how much of that was true. "I'm definitely going to need a guide." He flashed a lopsided smile and shrugged his shoulders. "Took me forever to figure out how to work the remote, and I'm still not sure I'm doing it right."
"Here, let me look at that," Tony stood, reaching over the bed to snatch up the remote. He looked at it and frowned, tossing it to the table where he had deposited the earlier package. "That thing is a piece of shit, as is this television, and this room. With the amount of money that I throw at SHIELD, the very least they could do is set their number one find up in some nicer quarters..."
He rolled his eyes, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest, looking as though he was itching to get out of the suit. At first glance, Tony Stark was a man completely at ease in any surrounding, but as soon as he became a little more comfortable...that definitely started to slip. "Look. It's entirely likely that I could get...well...a stern talking to if I went through with this, but do you want to get out of here? Out of this depressingly clinical room and into some fresh air?"
"Yes." Steve didn't even bother to think about it. Getting out of the hospital room had been all he'd thought of since about the second hour that they'd had him in here. He understood, of course, that there were tests to run and observations to do, but he was beginning to think that they were neglecting to take into account the fact that he had been frozen in a block of ice for nearly seventy years and wasn't taking well to being kept cooped up inside.
He stood, looking around for something to put on besides the slightly flimsy pajama bottoms that he was currently wearing. "I don't think I have any clothes," he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Ah. Well, that's no problem, you can wear my ja...ah." Tony grinned a little, tilting his chin up to take in the entirety of Steve's height and width. Clothes could indeed be a problem. He waved his hand, as Tony was want to do when hatching what he considered to be a brilliant plan, and headed for the door. "You sit tight for a moment, I'll be back in a few moments. Trust me, after six months in this damn building, I know SHIELD like the back of my hand." With that, he vanished out the door and into the hallway, nodding and grinning broadly at anyone that crossed his path.
Steve stood in the middle of the room for a moment, the climbed carefully back into the bed. If anyone should happen to come in, he didn't want to give the impression that he was preparing to make a run for it. And besides that, he felt just a little bit stupid standing in the middle of the room with no clothes on. So he perched on the edge of the bed and watched the door, puzzled and bemused by Tony Stark, but very glad that he'd decided to drop by.
It hadn't taken very much to find a pair of fatigue bottoms and a white wife beater, almost every supply closet had a few pairs laying around. SHIELD was the kind of place that went through several explosions, and clothes as a result, per day. Easier still had been convincing the young man standing outside Steve's door to go on ahead and take a long lunch break - he was, after all, Iron Man.
"Here, these should fit," he grinned, tossing the clothes down onto Steve's bed and turning away, affording him a little privacy as he drew his PDA from his pocket and started tapping away with the stylus.
Steve pulled on the clothes quickly enough; it was nice to be in something besides pajamas and hospital gowns. The pants were a little short at the ankle, but they would do. As he dressed, he watched Tony curiously, trying to figure out what in the world he was doing with the little machine cupped in his hand.
"What is that?" he asked, tugging the wife beater over his head and rolling his shoulders. Better. Not really what he would have liked, and he still didn't have shoes, but he'd gone barefoot before. "Military tech?"
"Hmm?" Tony frowned, glancing down at the PDA and then back up at Steve, grinning a little side grin. "No. This is...well, it's like a calendar. And a notebook. And a computer. And...you know...you're going to have plenty of time to be wowed by the twenty-first century. How about we start by getting some fresh air, and a really, really good view?"
He gestured for Steve to follow him, opening the door and leading him out into the hallway. He turned towards a service elevator, walking around as though he owned the place. With one more flashy grin, sliding his sunglasses back over his eyes, Tony waved Steve into the open elevator. "After you."
Steve stepped into the elevator, hiding a smile by turning his head. For a little guy, Tony had a lot of attitude. He reminded Steve of a couple of guys he'd known back in the war, all talk and flashy smiles and cocky prancing. Guys like that you had to keep an eye on. They were either full of it or they had something to back up all the posturing. Steve was inclined to believe that Tony was one of the latter, though whether he believed it because it was true or because it was something that he needed to think was up for debate.
"So," he said after a moment. "Where are we going?"
"Roof," Tony grinned, frowning as his phone started chiming away in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the display, and cut off the ringer. So he should have been in a meeting with Rand Enterprises, oh, twenty minutes ago...Danny would understand. It was Captain America, after all.
"SHIELD has one of the best views in the entire city. You can see all the way out over Manhattan on a good day. And the important things, too...like my buildings." He winked and offered Steve a flashy grin, tucking his phone back into his pocket and waiting for the doors to chime open. They did so, opening out into a small room with a locked door at the end. He entered a combination and held his thumb against a scanning pad, leaning back as the door slid open.
Steve just sort of... followed. It wasn't something he was accustomed to, but there was nothing else for him to do. Everything that Tony did, every action that he performed so casually, was foreign to Steve, and as the door swung open he forced his hands to unclench. Fear, sudden and vaguely ridiculous, swept through him. How different was the city now? Would he even recognize Manhattan?
He hesitated in the doorway until Tony turned to gesture him forward. "Sorry," he murmured, stepping gingerly out onto the roof. "Got a little dizzy for a second."
Tony watched from a few feet out onto the roof, arms folded across his chest. Pepper and Rhodey had both warned him to go easy on Steve, had reminded him that he was not a man from this time, whereas Tony himself was the very embodiment of modern times. So he hesitated, but only for a second, and took Steve's elbow in his left hand. "It's fine. If I'm to understand correctly, you've had a hell of a week."
Leading Steve gently forward, managing to contain his absolute glee at touching his childhood hero, Tony took the pack of cigarettes and a book of matches that he had appropriated from Clint from his pocket, handing them to Steve as they drew a little closer to the helipad and railing. "Not everything's changed, you understand. Cigarettes are still cigarettes, although they're not quite as...popular these days..."
"I don't... smoke..." Steve stared down at the pack in his hand, then sighed and flipped it open, drawing out a cigarette and lighting it carefully. What the hell was the point in pretending? Tony either knew him well enough to know that he had a very small, very hidden tobacco habit, or he was trying to be nice. Either way, it had been nearly seventy years since he'd last had a smoke.
"Thanks," he murmured, fixing his eyes on one of the many skyscrapers that dominated the view. It hadn't been there the last time he'd looked out at New York City, but focusing on just one was infinitely better than focusing on all of them. "I'm... not sure how to feel about all this."
The cigarettes had been a gamble, based mostly on Tony's knowledge of Steve and the time period he had come from. Still, it seemed like it was something of a distraction, which was more than successful enough. He set his hands down on the railing encircling the top of the huge building, looking out over the city.
"You don't have to feel anything just yet, you know. To be honest, sometimes I'm not sure how I feel about it myself. You know, I was born in this city, grew up in it, helped a lot of these buildings around us come into existence..." he paused, shrugging a little. "Mm. Perhaps I thought it might be something we have in common...aside from the fact that I believe we'll be working together."
"You work with the government?" Steve glanced over at Tony, bemused. A billionaire industrialist working with the military wasn't unheard of, and Steve had read in one of his many magazines that Stark Industries was involved with weapons production. But having a guy supply you with guns and fancy toys couldn't really be considered 'working together'.
"Or are you one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. guys?" he continued, equally amused by that idea. Tony just seemed too... slick for military work.
"Not...technically...either." Tony grinned, enjoying his little bit of mystery. Steve had a little smile on his face, which made him seem both more human and much, much more approachable. Tony could only imagine what the past week had been like for him. "Fury's talked to you about the Avenger program, yes? Apparently, I'm going to be one of his pet projects. Can I assume you've heard of Iron Man?"
"Yeah, I've glanced through the files." Steve frowned a little, trying to recall all of the folders and notes that Fury had given him. He'd only been out of the ice for a few days at that point, and things tended to blend together, but he remembered Fury talking about the Avengers program.
"A guy in a suit, right? Flies? I'm assuming he has guns." Steve twisted the cigarette between his fingers. "What about him?"
"Oh, it's not just a suit," Tony grinned, leaning in closer and gesturing as he spoke, clearly delighted by the topic of conversation. He spread his hands out before him, sunglasses sliding down over the bridge of his nose. "It's a life support system. It's offensive and defensive all rolled into one. Constantly updating technology, way ahead of anything else out there. It's a one man army..."
He trailed off, flicking his fingers with a sheepish little grin. "And it's me. Well, inside the suit. We're going to be team mates, Captain."
"Oh!" Steve was quiet for a long moment, stunned into speechlessness. Of all the things he had expected from Tony, that one wasn't even close. He couldn't imagine a sharp and - admittedly - kind of sleazy guy like Tony Stark climbing into a metal suit and flying around saving people. It was hardly a fair assessment of the man; they had just met, and Steve liked Tony well enough. It was just unexpected.
"I figured it would be a pilot or something," he said, trying with not much success to excuse and cover up his surprise.
Tony grinned, despite himself. Okay, he had played Steve a little...and that was admittedly unfair, but it had been worth it to see the shocked, honest expression on his face.
"I get that a lot...well, not so much these days. It's been a good six months since my little secret came out." He shrugged, flicking his fingers and sliding his glasses back up over his nose. "No one expects the man in the business suit to go and fling himself against a dozen buildings several times a week. I'd imagine no one expected a skinny artist from Brooklyn to become a world-class hero, either, but...well. People can be surprising"
Steve laughed softly and ground the cigarette out on the railing, shrugging his shoulders and nodding. "Touché," he murmured. Tony had him there, at least. Now, he was every inch the great American hero. But before? It was like Tony said, he was just a skinny artist kid that wanted to help his country. "I guess we're all full of surprises."
Smiling, he glanced over at Tony, appreciating the way the light flared behind him, casting his profile in sharp relief. It would have made a great sketch, but he hadn't even been able to get his hands on a decent book. Forget about art supplies.
"That we are," Tony turned to look out over the city again. God, he loved it like nothing else, and was more than content to spend the rest of the day up on the roof. That, of course, was when his phone started to ring. He sighed and took it from his pocket, glanced at the display, and replaced it once more.
"I'm afraid I can't ignore that any longer, lest my devoted staff give me up for dead and missing," he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck with another broad, sheepish grin. "If you want to stay up here, I can send someone to let you back in. The view is a lot to take in, and you have a fair few cigarettes to catch up on.."
"No," Steve answered quickly, backing away from the railing and following Tony back to the elevator. Maybe he would come back up here later on, watch the sun set or something, but right now he couldn't quite face New York without some sort of moral support. A few hours to regroup, to mentally prepare himself for the strangeness of the world, and he would be fine. Tony had just... surprised him. "Thank you, though."
Tony managed to remain mostly silent on the way down to the infirmary floor, unable to help but comment on how he'd created and donated the technology used in the thumbprint keypads. Once out into the hallway again, he waved away a frantic doctor and opened the door into Steve's room, waving him in and closing it behind them.
"There are some things to keep you from going completely out of your mind in here," he gestured to the package he had left on the table, rolling his eyes as his phone rang once again. "And the next time you see me, I'll have this damn thing turned off. In any case, it was a pleasure and an experience I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have." He leaned forward, offering his hand and a very broad, delighted grin.
Steve took his hand and shook it, careful to be gentle with him. He'd learned the hard way that his grip was a lot stronger than he thought it was. "Thanks again," he offered. "It's good to talk to someone who isn't trying to evaluate my mental health or draw my blood. Come by anytime." He hoped Tony would take him up on that. There was something about him that Steve felt that he shouldn't like, but when he smiled it was thoroughly genuine, and that was something that Steve hadn't seen in far too long.
"I can promise you, my friend," Tony grinned, opening the door wide and rolling his eyes at the cyclopean face of one very irate General, no doubt frustrated at having found Steve's room empty while they were up on the roof. "Soon enough, you'll be sick of seeing my face."
With that, he was gone, closing the doo behind him and walking away from every sentence featuring the words protocol, clearance, and improper. He'd just met his childhood hero, and there was absolutely nothing that could bring him down from such a high.