Who: Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark What: Mano a mano… only with words. When: After this exchange. Rating/Notes: Yellow, for language and a big bowl of angsty-o's.
Bucky wasn’t sure why Stark wanted to talk. He’d only offered the driver’s license thing because he thought it might be nice to be useful to other people for a change. Now, apparently, they were going to have it out, or something. Without Steve there, because apparently Steve was being overprotective behind Bucky’s back, which was super awesome.
He went to the ‘service entrance’ of the building Stark had provided the address to. It was kind of a dick move, but Bucky sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it. If it was up to Bucky, he would have found himself a nice little grimy corner in a shelter, and made do with that until he could make enough money for something better. But it wasn’t just up to him, apparently. His exposure could jeopardize everyone.
He was directed towards the penthouse, and he travelled up in a soundless elevator. It deposited him at an elaborate door and he used the knocker to announce his arrival. He definitely felt like the pauper being summoned to the king.
Tony hadn't even thought about that, more as he was thinking that maybe Bucky wanted to keep a low profile when entering the building. He was pretty sure that Cap was going to kill him for doing this, but Tony was bad at following directions and did what he wanted approximately 96.8 percent of the time. He also hated awkwardness, and even if the guy killed his parents...at the same time, he hadn't really done it.
It was time to see if he could get past this particular hurdle. Because life was getting stupider by the second, and too many other things were happening that he couldn't avoid, no matter how hard he wanted to.
That was why Tony opened the door and waited for him to walk in, while doing what he did best when he was feeling out of sorts: talking.
"Hi. C'mon in," he said, only glancing for a second at Bucky's face before his eyes looked anywhere else but at him. "Uh. I remember eating at some point or other the other day, but it's been a while. You hungry? I'm hungry. I think there's stuff in the fridge. Or I can order something. Unless you ate already, then forget it. Maybe you want something to drink instead. We can do drinks. I like doing drinks."
Tony's eyes widened like even he was impressed by how many words he could spew out in that short amount of time. Wow.
Bucky was always hungry. He couldn’t remember feeling really full since before he’d first set foot in Europe. That didn’t mean he wanted to break bread with Tony Stark. “Thanks. I’m good. You go ahead,” he said. There was a time when he might have matched the other man for chattiness, word for word. Little by little, he was trying to find his way back there, but it was a long road. Sometimes he would think something and impulsively say it at the same time, the way he thought maybe normal people did. But when he was uncomfortable he resorted back to an almost stingy economy of words.
Stark definitely made him uncomfortable. He was pretty sure that he did the same to Stark. But they had one big thing in common. Steve. Bucky didn’t know what their relationship had been before, but he knew you didn’t feel betrayed enough to nearly kill someone if you didn’t care about them. Prolonging the discomfort with Stark was, ultimately, only gonna hurt Steve, so finding a way around it made sense. The problem was, it was pretty much all on Stark. Bucky didn’t know how to put him at ease or atone for his sins against the other man. He was willing to do anything. Well, almost anything.
Yep, Tony knew this was going to be awkward and uncomfortable. But what it boiled down to, was that he had once counted Steve as a good friend, and their chat on the network felt like a lost puzzle piece had fallen back into the place it was always meant to be in. If Steve was back, and if he ever did need help with whatever was going to happen next? Tony was going to have to put his usual snarky self on pause, and try to make things better by....
Wait, was his mouth drier and his throat feeling a little tighter than it was a minute ago?
Damn it, it was.
Well, there went eating anything. Liquid diet for the win!
Tony blinked suddenly, as he realized his eyes were going to dry out from staring at the foyer wall for so long. He chanced another glance at Bucky, before looking down at himself and making a face like he couldn't remember when he put on those sweatpants and 'In my defense I was left unsupervised' t-shirt. That was...sadly appropriate? He shook his head to pop that thought bubble, because the less sleep he got, the more distracted he became.
"Mostly silent type. I get it. We're still in the doorway, right?" Tony said all of a sudden, and let go of the door handle like it burned his hand. "Yup. We are. I'm hitting the kitchen. Close the door behind you and follow my lead, ok? And don't worry, the heavy weaponry is put away. I meant it. No fights. You've gotta helluva kung fu grip."
He was already walking at a brisk pace and pointed off to one side, toward the kitchen, only a split second before he disappeared around that corner.
When Bucky had originally suggested fighting, he’d really meant that Stark could get some of his hostility out by beating the Hell out of him. There was no scenario where Bucky was doing anything but pure self-defense when it came to Tony Stark. But he could see how that would only make the guy feel worse in the aftermath, even if it would make Bucky feel marginally better. “No fighting. Got it,” he agreed.
He closed the door and followed the other man. He had no idea how they were going to resolve anything, but as long as they kept trying maybe they’d stumble on it eventually. “Sorry Steve is so… protective. I didn’t tell him anything other than that you were looking for the words,” he said. He might have mentioned that Stark was an ass, but surely Steve knew that already. Still, he was going to keep the editorializing to himself from now on, at least about Stark.
Tony wouldn't have debated the fact that he was an ass. On his best days, he would revel in being a fun loving asshole, and his entire being practically wallowed with happiness in that knowledge. On bad days, he relied on the thought of being an asshole to drag himself through whatever muck he was stuck in. It was the one constant he could rely upon.
Looking like he was conducting a chemistry experiment, Tony had a few bottles and containers within reach, and was already pouring some green powder into a blender that contained a peeled banana and some water.
"Yeah, well. You're his best bud, so...we saw how that went," Tony said matter-of-factly, screwing a lid back on, and grabbing another bottle. "Pretty sure I got the whole I got your back, you got mine vibe with you two. Guess what? Total pro at living with all sorts of crap I never thought I'd have to live with. Pretty sure you're in the same boat."
He turned his head to look at Bucky. Really, truly looked right at him with the wryest of smiles, and then he punched a finger down on the pulse button so it whirred just long enough to mix the contents.
Bucky arched a brow. “I think this might be above and beyond kind of crap, though. For both of us.” He couldn’t deny that nothing was coming between him and Steve. As much as Bucky would do anything in his power to make amends to Stark, giving up Steve was not something he would do for anyone, for any reason. That didn’t mean he didn’t want Steve and Stark to be friendly again. He did. Coming between Steve and his friends was awful and painful and he was grateful for the ones who’d stood by him.
“What… are you making?” he asked, because it was an easier question than ‘what the hell am I doing here?’
If only Tony could bring himself to say it, they would be on the same page as far as Steve was concerned. It was Steve and Bucky forevs, and Tony wouldn't dare drive a wedge in between that even under normal circumstances. Socially quirky, he always had very few close friends as it was, and more ex-coworkers that mostly put up with him because he was rich and made cool stuff. Those words were still jumbled up like a fifty car pile up that he was trying to work his way into shaking off the tip of his tongue.
"Smoothie. Sure you don't want some? It's got all sorts of yummy things in it, like algae and protein powder, bananas, and this." Tony grabbed a bottle of white rum and started pouring, while saying conversationally, "It was originally a plant, and that makes it healthy."
A handful of ice from the fridge and another pulse, and the smoothie was done. He started searching the cabinets for a glass.
"You know what's not healthy? Hydra," Tony suddenly said, getting to the point of the visit as though he was dropping a bomb on target. "You know, being anywhere near Rumlow is dangerous until we find out if your head's clear."
Ah. So this was about Rumlow. Bucky pursed his lips. “Rumlow doesn’t know the words,” he said. ‘Rumlow wouldn’t do that to me’ was not something that came out of his mouth, because he knew damn well no one else would believe him. But no one else had the kind of relationship with Rumlow that Bucky had. He couldn’t fully explain it to Steve, but maybe… maybe it would be easier to explain to someone who was, more or less, a stranger.
“Rumlow is a violent guy. And he’s done a lot of bad things without being brainwashed into them. But he felt sorry for me when I was a zombie, and he took care of me. He protected me from some of the other HYDRA guys. I’m sure you can imagine how much fucking fun it would be for a bunch of steroid pumped assholes with a zombie who had to follow their orders.” He didn’t think he needed to be any more explicit than that. It didn’t take a lot of imagination, but he was kind of grateful that Steve’s mind had never gone there. Bucky wasn’t about to push it in that direction, either. “Anyway, so I know Rumlow won’t take advantage now, because he didn’t then.”
Tony leaned back so he could squint at Barnes from around the cabinet door. Because he often specialized in either quirky, scientific, or incredibly dark thoughts? His mind had gone there. He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head in a way that almost looked like he was shook to the core even considering that such a thing might have happened to anyone. What would he have done if in the same situation? His brain scritched out the word DIE in angry letters at the top of that list of hypothetical scenarios.
He slammed that cabinet door closed and went to the next, finally finding the glasses.
"He tried to suicide bomb Cap," was Tony's blunt response. "Are you sure he doesn't have them? That he isn't lying if he said he didn't? Because even if he felt sorry for you when you were Bucky Barnes, Super Zombie? He was still working for Hydra. He still tried to blow up Steve. Pretty sure that was a decision he'd been serious about, after Hydra splintered into smaller cells. Notoriously not cool. That puts him pretty high on the list of bad guys. Bad guys that have access to the network, and to you."
Tony was holding the glass in his hand and still managed to point at Bucky as he walked back toward the blender.
"You weren't exactly in your right mind, so how do you know he didn't take advantage? Not that way. Other ways. How do you know that he wouldn't do that now? Continued contact is a liability. Not just for you, but because it's a close link to Cap too. Sorry not sorry? That screams unsafe to me."
Bucky had been pissed when he’d heard about the bomb. It was his own guilt that had made him speak to Rumlow at all after that. Well, that and a feeling of obligation. But then when he’d seen him…
Bucky felt defensive about it, though much of what Stark was saying was true. “I did try to give you the shut down code and you freaked out. But a desperate Rumlow who has nowhere to go and no way to get by on his own is more dangerous than a Rumlow that can at least afford to drink himself into a stupor.” It wasn’t as if he was hanging out with Rumlow. “What do you want me to do? Take him out?” he said dryly.
Tony was pouring his spiked smoothie out, and let out the world's biggest PFFT noise at the insinuation that he freaked out.
Fine, he had a bit of a freak out. But it was a contained freak out. He wasn't running out of restaurants after doodling with crayons or anything.
"What? What are you...NO." Tony looked like his mind was blown by that, and scrunched up one eye as he looked at Bucky. He took a drink and looked about ready to chug that smoothie down, but it gave him time to get himself collected as much as he could, since the calm part was out of the question. "I'm not saying that. Just...you need to back off, for now. For now. For everyone's sake, back away slowly from the dead guy. Ok? And I didn't freak out. You're freaking out. Stop freaking out. It's freaking me out."
That sounded mature. For his next trick, Tony supposed he would be throwing out triple dog dares.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I was not actually going to murder Rumlow. But I didn’t bring him here. All I did was save him from getting beat up by an angry mob, and give him a place to sleep. And by the way, I didn’t know about the bomb thing at the time.” He probably would have done the same, anyway, but he would have been a lot surlier about it. “I’m gonna give him his fake license when I get it. He needs to be able to get a job.”
Bucky didn’t like the idea that he was endangering Steve. “You were freaking out. Why don’t you just let me tell you the word. I’ll tell Steve, too. For everyone’s safety. If anyone gets a hold of the words… they won’t do them any good.”
"It's hard for me to tell," was the sarcastic response, before Tony rolled his eyes at himself, and took a deep breath to steady himself. Super Smoothie was helping already. He was glad for that.
"You know, I want to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. I think we all deserve that. But when it's a friend of mine that sure, I don't talk at anymore? Then it's personal. You and I?" He pointed between them both. "Personal. But the fact is that it wasn't your fault and I know it wasn't. You were hijacked. The other fact is that Rumlow had a choice and an opportunity, and he took it."
Tony put the glass down and angrily scrubbed his hands over his face. When they finally fell away, he folded his arms and tucked them in, as though protectively huddling into himself. The look he gave Bucky was equal parts frustrated and pleading, since Steve was important to both of them. Obviously more so in one case than the other.
"You know what? We're probably freaking each other out. Gimme the word. Give Steve the word. And just...please try to back away from Rumlow for now, ok? We're close to getting those other words anyway. I know we are."
“Okay well… I can’t actually say it,” he said, frowning. He wondered if he could type it. He pulled out his phone and opened up a blank notepad thing. He carefully typed out the word one letter at a time: sputnik. He held the phone out to Stark so he could read it. “I’m not sure if it will do anything to me if I’m not already… you know.” He hoped Stark wasn’t going to test it out right away, but if he did, Bucky didn’t really have a way to stop him.
Other than delivering the driver’s license, Bucky had no immediate plans to see Rumlow. He was still pissed at him. But he also didn’t particularly like being told he couldn’t. If Steve told him not to, that would be different. He sighed, though, because he knew that there was no damn good reason why anyone would trust Rumlow, and it was only reasonable that they wouldn’t want Rumlow to trigger Bucky and use him to take over Manhattan. Not that Bucky would be able to do that, but he could surely do a lot of damage if he was forced to go full Winter Soldier on everyone’s ass. “I’ll stay away from him,” he agreed, reluctantly. “I mean, I was anyway,” he added a little sullenly.
Arms still folded over himself, Tony walked forward like he was willing himself to walk on hot coals and leaned in to read the screen. Eyebrows raised up and the only thing that shot out of his mouth in response to that was, "I'm sure there's one of those In Soviet Russia jokes in here, somewhere. Codeword codes you? Why not."
He backed up just as fast, almost bumping up against the counter behind him. His head tilted to one side as he watched Bucky for a moment, before he made a soft scoffing noise and looked away. It wasn't that he was disgusted with Barnes, as much as he was disgusted with himself for his own reactions, even knowing what he knew.
"I'm actively not trying to be an asshole right now. Steve wants to give everyone a fair shake. I've done enough crap on my own that yeah, I wish I could....nope, nevermind. If this Rumlow guy is forgivable? If he proves it? Hey, more power to him. For right now though, I just....it's one less thing for us to worry about. You get that, right?"
He didn't mention Jessica Jones tailing Rumlow at all. Tony didn't like being all cloak and dagger, he was a grandstanding guy in a red and gold armored suit flying around, after all. But even he knew it might not be wise to let Barnes know the guy that tried to blow up Captain America was being tailed.
Bucky backed away a little when Stark backed away from him. He was sure that Stark didn’t want to be anywhere near him, and he didn’t blame him. “I get it,” he said quietly. He didn’t like it, but he got it. He was never sure what Stark was about to say when he stopped mid-sentence and changed his mind, whether he was imagining worse or not. He also didn’t want to assume everything was about him, but in this case, he felt like he was Stark’s own personal cross to bear.
“Is that what we needed to talk about?” he asked. He knew that Stark didn’t really want to be near him. He was going to do whatever he needed to do, though, and if that was come every time he was called, he was going to do that. Still, it couldn’t just be Rumlow that he wanted to talk about.
There was a metric ton of stuff he wanted to try to talk about, or questions that he wanted to ask. There was so much that it seemed like his train of thought was buried under an avalanche of opinions and statements, and he was having a hard time digging himself out. Looking off to one side, Tony's arms tensed up, so it was a safe assumption that his hands were clenched into fists. The look in his eyes could be likened to a thousand yard stare, which he was rapidly trying to blink himself out of.
"Dunno. Is it?" he asked the question in such a way that it was meant to sound cute, but instead came out a twinge more bitter than intended. "Because I think we need a truce right now, you and me. While we all figure this out. I told you I do but don't blame you, and that's true. I guess, maybe I shouldn't have said...ok, whew." He drew in a deep breath and let out a sharp exhale. "This isn't easy. I need more smoothie."
Tony reached over to pour himself some more of the good green stuff. While he did that, he was sure to add, "If you don't want any and you gotta bail, then hey? Don't let me keep you."
“Isn’t this a truce?” Bucky asked. “You’re not trying to kill me, so I figured that was a truce.” He was doing that thing again where he started to say something and then stopped. Bucky tried to work out what the hell he’d left off.
“You shouldn’t have said what?” he asked, because it was driving him cuckoo. “I’m not going anywhere. You wanna talk. I’m here. You want me to leave, I’ll leave. It’s all up to you. Just tell me what you want me to do. Whatever it is.”
Tony's mouth opened and closed a few times. It was uncharacteristically quiet as he took that time to swallow down all of the algae and liquid courage in one go, before setting the glass down and wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand.
"I shouldn't have told you those things," he rolled his eyes up before the lids slipped down so his eyes were closed. Maybe that would make it easier. "The things I said before, on the network. I was angry still, and I shouldn't have said them. I went to Siberia because I knew you weren't the bomber. I knew they were trumped up charges, and someone else did it all. I was going to help you two and then that happened. And it wasn't your fault. I know it wasn't. So the crap I've done lately is me being petty, while I try to deal with it. You're gonna have to take it all with a grain of salt. I don't want you and Steve to move out of there unless you both want to. I'm not going to kick either of you out. You need him right now and I get it, he needs his childhood friend back. So it'll be ok. Ok?"
Nope, closing his eyes hadn't made it easier. Tony still felt like crap, and he was trying to remember the last time he slept, so he was more coherent. Two days ago, probably.
Bucky frowned as he tried to follow Stark’s logic. “Seriously? You’re feeling guilty because you weren’t nicer to me? You didn’t have to do anything for me at all. Jesus, if there’s one person on this earth that doesn’t owe me anything, it sure as Hell is you. I told you, that shitty hotel was still nicer than 95% of the places I’ve slept since 1944. Stark… no amount of being an asshole to me is ever gonna even the score. And whatever you wanna dish out, I’m gonna take. I didn’t want to leave the place you’re paying for out of pride or whatever you think it is. I wanted to leave the place you’re paying for because I didn’t want you to have to pay for the guy who…”
And that’s where he finally choked on his own words. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want Stark to have to hear it. He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, trying get control of the abject misery that was threatening to knock him flat. Finally, he inhaled a shaky breath. “But if you want us to stay there, we’ll stay.”
"And there's the elephant in the room!" Tony announced, throwing his arms out to his sides. It made him resemble a demented ring leader for a second, the man announcing the sideshow freaks. He let out a clipped laugh, and then stopped himself with a miserable wince. "Oh, you mean the guy that killed my parents? Nope. You don't get to tell me what I get to do. I knew damn well you didn't have a choice in it, and I still swerved out of my way to put you in the crappiest place possible."
He held up his hands in a classic 'whatsa matter YOU' motion at Bucky.
"I'm telling you....I did it because I thought it was kinda funny and a shitty thing to do to everyone that I thought back-stabbed me. Because I'm a great guy like that. And now I'm trying to keep you, yes you, from possibly going ape shit again. And you're worried that I'm being too nice? Do you know how many places I have in New York? I lost count. Because they're called real estate investments. I'm not going to be put out by you and Cap staying in one I probably paid for ten years ago. I just want to make sure the guy that I thought was my friend once upon a time, is kinda safe from being blown up or smashed by helicarriers or whatever. So, we're going to have to get used to each other. That's why I want you to know that this smoothie was disgusting. I have heartburn now. I'm going to be vindictive and blame you for it. You gave me heartburn, Barnes. I need some Tums now, you dick."
It was probably the rum, but Tony swore that the banana should have soaked that up. He was pointing at Bucky anyway. Nevermind, he stopped pointing. He flipped Bucky off, then used that hand to pat the middle of his chest a few times. About five pats later, a stifled belch could be heard.
Bucky had come to understand that not all of his impulses were completely sane. He knew that there were a lot of ways his brain meandered around a topic that didn’t always make sense to other people, and sometimes not even to himself. Maybe that was why he found it so deeply disturbing when he understood what Stark was saying as clear as a fucking bell. He almost smiled. He definitely shook his head.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” he said, throwing up his hands. “You’re an asshole. I had nothing to do with you drinking that nasty-looking shit. I had no control over your parents’ deaths. Just saying… I fucking get why you would want to treat me like shit, and I don’t blame you. Jesus Fucking Christ, Stark. You officially win the self-loathing contest. Happy?”
Where did that leave them? Was he just supposed to… hold Stark accountable for his actions like he didn’t owe him half a lifetime with his family, or at the very least some closure? “I hate to break this to you, but… I don’t know if I can stop giving you a pass. You’re just gonna have to cope with the fact that my fucked up brain is gonna insist that I owe you my life. But I’ll try to act normal around you. I’m gonna assume this is normal for you already, so all I gotta say about that is… you’re not that funny; Steve’s still your friend; and you drink too much.”
Tony blinked once. He blinked twice. He blinked a third time and his entire body physically twitched just once, like a live wire, while he remained standing in place.
The reason why was that someone else other than Pepper (most of the time) actually got it, and they managed to catch hold of the same wavelength he was riding on. A feat that was difficult to achieve, since the wavelength in his brain normally ran at lightspeed. Not only that, but Tony hadn't thought he and Steve were still friends - it was more his own deep-seeded worry that they wouldn't be ever again - but he wanted to be. Hell, he bickered with Rhodey all the time, and they were still friends. That was mind-boggling in its own right.
"...'kay? Don't give me a pass." He shrugged a shoulder noncommittally, and wondered when the precise moment was that he was actually able to look Barnes in the eye and not feel as though a part of him either wanted to rage against all the machines, or curl up and die. Baby steps. Just keep taking baby steps. And maybe stop eyeing that bottle of rum.
"Other than that? Yep! I like winning. I'll continue being the asshole everyone knows and loathes," he said, even though he knew he was an asshole idiot that still cared, but liked to seem that he didn't. "You keep doing that brood you do. It is what it is. I'm not gonna forget what happened. It's just, we can't keep doing...."
He wagged an index finger between them to indicate the few feet of space between them both.
"...this tension stuff. It's not good for Cap or anyone else around us. I don't know if the world's gonna implode tomorrow. So I'll drop some of my avoidance down a notch, if we agree to just be everyday assholes to each other. That good? I'm good. Keep it on the down-low with Rumlow for now. Got my cross and nails. Awkward's addressed. Yep! Got it all covered."
Before Bucky could say or do anything, Tony hastily grumbled, "...all except a big fuck you, 'cos I'm hilarious."
Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you let Steve off the hook, we’re good. That’s all I gotta say about that. I’ll even laugh at your shitty jokes.” He smirked, because it was the first time he kind of saw what Steve saw in Stark. He was fucked up, but his heart was actually in the right place. And he didn’t deserve all the shit that had happened to him, no matter how many missiles he’d manufactured.
“And thanks,” he added. “For the place. I appreciate it.” He held out his hand, putting himself on the line. He’d already given Stark the means to knock him out without a touch. He hoped that was enough proof of his sincere desire to make things work out smoothly.
Barnes was strangely insightful and polite, and Tony grudgingly realized that's probably what Steve liked about the guy. Definitely a case of someone stuck between two polar opposites.
"No prob. Little secret? It's not just the apartment. I own the building, somehow or other. Easy to sneak a lease in. Anyway. Steve and I'll work out whatever needs worked out. He was doing what he thought was right, and so was I. Tends to happen with me a lot."
Tony stood stock still, staring at Bucky's outstretched hand. He mentally slapped himself so he wouldn't think of his mom, held his breath, and stepped forward enough to shake hands with Barnes. They seemed to have reached an agreement, so it was better to suck it up and shake on it. That handshake didn't last long, but it seemed like one hurdle had been leaped over, and there were about a thousand more hurdles left to go, ahead of him. One was better than none.
"I heard you. You have to laugh at my shitty jokes now. No take backsies." He waved a hand toward the doorway. "If you guys need anything, ask. Uhh? Guess you can hightail it back to your old folks home. Dagnabbit."
As was one of the most irritating parts of his life now, Bucky was also thinking about Tony’s mom when they shook hands, and he silently apologized to Howard for his part in fucking up his son. He really hated getting randomly emotional about things, but for the time being, he had to just suck it up and try to keep it to himself.
“Unlike Steve, I wasn’t frozen for 70 years, so I don’t speak like Jimmy Stewart in a Frank Capra film. Got it? We good?” he asked, because he felt like they kind of were.
That was what Tony would have classified as a moment, of the emotional variety. He didn't like having moments, and that was why Tony found himself fighting off the urge to fold his arms back over himself like he was forming another one of those self-protective cocoons. For a few token seconds, he looked like he didn't know what to do with his own arms. He abruptly plopped a hand down to lean against a marble countertop. Yep. Keeping it casual.
"Heh. Sometimes it's like he's stuck in It's a Wonderful Life. That's not ironic at all." Tony found himself staring up at the ceiling with his head quirked to one side, chewing his lower lip like he was thinking everything over. In a blink, he was looking over at Barnes and nodding. "We good. I'm gonna go crash for an hour. You know the way out, right? See ya."
Tony grabbed the bottle of rum as he turned around, and waved with it as he went to bury his face in more hacking. Even if it wasn't called hacking anymore.