WHO: Tony Stark and James Rhodes WHEN: Friday the 27th, around 1am. WHERE: Stark Residence. WHAT: Tony has something to show Rhodey. Something cool.
Tony lay on his back beneath the twisted tangle of metal and wire, suspended from the upright work rack. He moved back and forth on the flat trolley, tapping his ankle against the cement floor in time with the music blaring around him.
Where the hell was Rhodey? He'd sent him the message on the way home from the club, having left Clint on the arm of some blond waitress. Wasn't everyone up past midnight on a friday night? He frowned, poking his head out from beneath his work in progress and whistling sharply, pointing at his desk. A robotic arm delivered his cellphone, and Tony scowled. No missed calls. No nothing. Time for another message, and he smirked as it sent.
James Rupert Rhodes...do you make all of your dates wait for you?