Escort Characters: Iron Man and Quicksilver, with a whole mess of others in spirit. Location: In tandem with this thread. Content: Iron Man is a bitch and Quicksilver is a brat. Summary: Wanda isn't allowed to have all the fun. Double date, you guys!
'I gotta go check something' quickly became 'I gotta check this, too' and 'Just finish this up' then 'Could change that...' So it went. Tony couldn't tell you when he shrugged off his vest, found another pack of cigarettes, drew those blueprints, scrapped that mold, singed the skin off of his thumb ow sucking on it ow ow... a soft alarm went off, making Tony glance up to a computer monitor, thumb still in his mouth, eyebrow raised and certain this couldn't possibly be right. What time was it? Time to suit up, apparently. Wanda was out of the house and crossing the grounds fast-- way too fast. He didn't even pause to check where Pietro was, out of his seat and tearing his clothes off without another thought.
Not fast enough. The Mark X hovered above the driveway of Tony Stark's sprawling Malibu property, staring out towards the road where no cars passed. The little red dot on his HDU that was Wanda was gone, not in a 10 mile radius. Iron Man's head swiveled, maybe the tracker just wasn't working right, maybe he got something wrong, but that was impossible. It reappeared again. 6000 miles away. "Fury, I hope you're paying attention," he growled, cutting in to Director Fury's direct communication, not caring what he might have been doing. "Where is your agent? Our little bird's flown off to Italy."
Whatever Fury's plan was, Iron Man was following. A deep boom boom boom echoed across the lawn, the grass flattening in its wake and setting a dog howling.