WHO: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers WHAT: Go house-hunting! WHEN: July 2nd WHERE: In and around New York
Steve smoothed the lapels on his uniform for what seemed like the twentieth time. He would never admit to himself that he was nervous, but there it was. Now that the prospect of leaving the hospital room was a reality, he wasn't sure he wanted to do it at all. He kept telling himself that things would be fine, that it wouldn't be that different, but he knew he was lying to himself. His only consolation was that he'd managed to contact Tony Stark and convince him to play tour guide for the day. If anyone could cushion the impact of the new millennium, he was sure it would be Tony.
Tony, as a great surprise to himself and no doubt everyone around him, had managed to schedule a day with absolutely nothing to do. Well, Pepper had scheduled it, and as a result he had given her the day off. The call from S.H.I.E.L.D had also been something of a surprise, but no more so than the voice on the other end. It seemed that Captain America was ready to leave the hospital, and he had been designated as tour guide. Getting ready had taken longer than Tony would ever admit - suit after suit after suit, before deciding to wear a much more comfortable tshirt and jeans. His casual appearance was somewhat at odds with the silver lambo that pulled up outside of S.H.I.E.L.D, Happy also having been given the day off.
He closed the door with a soft click and hiss, nodding to the clean-cut soldier standing guard at the entrance to the building. He hadn't been told where to meet his all American playdate, and so Tony simply headed straight for the infirmary.
And Steve was, naturally, waiting for him just inside the infirmary doors. He looked smart, sharp and pressed in a brand new Army uniform. His blonde hair had been combed back, his shoes had been polished until they fairly gleamed with a light of their own. Overall, he gave the impression of a black and white photograph come to life, somehow more simple and innocent than everything and everyone that surrounded him.
"Mr. Stark," he said warmly, blue eyes lighting up as Tony came through the door. He wasn't completely comfortable calling anyone by their Christian name just yet, though he was sure that Tony would insist on it. He held out his hand, genuinely pleased to see the small, dark billionaire. "I really appreciate you doing this for me."
"Tony, please. Call me Tony." Taking the hand gratefully, his own handshake surprisingly strong for such a small man, Tony gestured to Steve's uniform and smiled. "That's very...shiny. Very shiny. It looks good on you. I'm afraid it might be attached, and you've been wearing your hospital gown over it..."
He waved Steve's appreciation away with a flick of his hand, leading him down a hallway, his hands wedged into the pockets of his precisely torn and faded jeans. "Shall we? I'd hate to have driven all the way down here, only to have you snatched up by another doctor. I'm surprised they're letting you out this early."
"I made a deal with Dr. Banner," Steve answered, lips thinning slightly. He still hadn't quite come to terms with what Banner had revealed to him, but he wasn't about to burden Tony with it. It was his trouble to bear.
As they stepped outside, he placed his hat carefully on his head, adjusted it minutely, and then looked around. His heart sank in his chest and he nearly turned around and walked right back into the hospital. Only the presence of Tony kept him from making a fool out of himself, and even then he stood and gawped like a half-wit. It was just... huge. Everything was so big, so noisy, so fast! The buildings in the distance towered and gleamed; on the road that ran in front of the hospital, cars snarled and sped, so sleek and glittering that he was sure it was all an illusion. "My God," he breathed. It was all he was capable of thinking, all he could manage to articulate.
Tony glanced up at Steve, smiling a little to himself and pressing one hand very firmly against the small of Steve's back. He couldn't prevent him from turning around, that was for sure, but perhaps he could encourage him to walk forward.
"New York, perhaps, isn't the best city to start you off in..." he mused, grinning and opening the passenger door of his car. The Lamborghini looked like an electric razor, or a cellphone, but the interior was considerably larger than it looked. The dashboard shone with all kinds of dials and gadgets, and the seat was almost unbearably plush.
Steve drew a deep breath and nodded, ducking and twisting to fit into the strange little car. It looked like it went impossibly fast, and he shot Tony a questioning look as he fastened the seatbelt. "Look, go easy on me, okay? I've never been in a car like this..." His nervous eyes found the road again and he shuddered deep inside. How the hell did they not crash into each other?
"Don't worry," Tony winked, gunning the engine and adjusting Steve's seat for him, making the man look less like a sardine in a very expensive can. "When I want to go especially fast, I have something very special for that. Something a little more maneuverable than a car..."
The car slid out onto the road, weaving easily between others and turning, within minutes, onto a freeway. The radio blared something with a heavy drum beat and a a repetitive, grinding guitar solo - all of which were turned down to a bare hum as Tony began to talk, one hand on the steering wheel. "So! Steve. Captain Rogers. Exactly why was it you requested I save you from your sparse, white, sterile captivity? Did you have something in mind for your first day of freedom?"
Steve pressed himself back into the seat and stared at the dashboard. Anything to keep from looking out the window as Tony raced down the road, weaving in and out of lanes, deftly avoiding the other cars. It made him a little nauseous, and he was beginning to think that maybe Banner had been right after all. Maybe he should have just stayed in the damned hospital.
But the part of him that had made him join the Army, the part that had stood up and volunteered for a dangerous experiment, the part that had embraced the persona of Captain America and sacrificed his life so that his country could survive - that part stiffened his spine and dragged his voice out. He would not let himself be intimidated by this world. It was his world now, too, his America. "I want to buy a house."
Tony glanced to the side, shutting off the radio completely and smiling a little. Huh. This guy was full of surprises. "A house? I thought for sure Fury would have set you up with a nice little barracks somewhere...you know, cement walls, Be All That You Can Be color scheme. .."
He laughed gently, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and pulling off the freeway, heading towards a tunnel beneath an overpass. "Well, I can tell you this much - you picked the right person. You may have heard I'm fairly good at handling money."
"I hadn't, actually," Steve answered. His eyes crawled across the dials and buttons and lights that cluttered the dash. He had no clue what half of them were for, and even the ones that he thought he knew were probably wrong. "I just like you." He said it with blissful unawareness; it had never been his habit to lie to people, and that was why he'd asked Tony to go with him.
Remaining silent for a moment - a struggle, at best - Tony measured his opinion so far of the man beside him. He probably hadn't even been told that they were destined to be teammates. Perhaps, after this, Tony could show him the suit...
"Well, I consider that quite the honor, and I must admit that it's mutual," he grinned, slowing the car and turning into what looked like a dilapidated burger joint. "Are you hungry? Lunch is on me. No arguments, I insist."
"Sure," Steve agreed. He managed to control his appetite well enough, but the truth was, he'd been ravenous since waking up, and food satisfied him for about half as long as it used to. He studied the restaurant with a critical eye, then leaned close to Tony and murmured in his ear. "This place looks kind of... I don't know, run down. Should we go somewhere else?" l The sudden close proximity startled Tony...he'd somewhat isolated himself of late, which was easy to do with you had almost half a foot of titanium alloy in between you and the rest of the world. He grinned again, parking the car and cutting it off, motioning for Steve to open his door.
"Don't worry about it. You'll quickly learn that in this decade, the less you pay for food the better it tends to be. Upmarket restaurants around here will serve you raw meat and charge you more than most people make in a week for it." He climbed out of the car, still talking, apparently veering wildly on a tangent. "You like Philly Cheesesteak, Steve? I bet you've never had one..."
"No..." Steve sighed, following Tony out of the car and into the little dive. He had a feeling he'd be hearing that an awful lot over the next couple of days, and he'd more or less resigned himself to it. People turned to glance at them as they walked in, and several stared at him longer than could be considered polite. He supposed it was the uniform, never even considering the fact that both he and Tony were highly recognizable.
Since the...somewhat revealing press conference, Tony had gotten used fto the attention shifting from 'Oh look! Tony Stark, billionare!' to the much more delightful 'Holy crap! That guy's Iron Man!' He brushed it off, smiling and nodding at every child in the restaurant, of which there were few, and making his way up to the counter.
"Hey there, hi, how you doing," he began, grinning broadly and spreading both hands on the thin wooden counter, looking up at the menu hanging on the wall. "Cheeseburger, please...no bacon, extra ketchup - and fries. Lots of fries. Just...drown it in fries. What about you, boy scout? Anything catch your eye?"
He glanced up at Steve, grinning and leaning one hip against the counter. The reactor made a faint line against his tshirt, not quite glowing through the black wifebeater beneath. The damn thing had brought a serious change to his wardrobe.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck and stared up at the menu. It took him a second to get used to the riot of pictures, but the restaurant had a fairly limited number of food items anyhow, and while it didn't exactly make sense to him, he was able to read enough of it to pick out a burger. "The one with... jalapenos?" He mispronounced it, but the high school girl behind the counter was too busy fixing his face with her pretty doe eyes to notice. "That's spicy, right?"
The girl nodded and Steve grinned at her. "That's what I want, then."
Tony hid a laugh with a well-timed cough, nodding and slapping Steve amiably on the shoulder...something that required considerable reach. "My big friend here will have the Jalapeno burger...give him extra cheese, and just as many fries. Actually - more. He looks like he could use the food. And two cokes to go. How much do I owe you, sweetheart?"
With their purchase totaled, Tony slapped down considerably more than what was asked, telling the blushing girl to keep the change. He led Steve over to an empty table, suggesting they should sit while their order was prepared. He grinned, drumming his fingers loudly against the edge of the table. "So. Steve. Exactly what kind of house are you looking for? Condo...penthouse...maybe a lifestyle block, a few acres and a pool?"
Steve arched his eyebrows and shook his head, pretending to know what the hell Tony was talking about. He had been advised by several different sources that this was his best course of action; asking Tony to explain himself, he'd been told, was a little bit like crashing a runaway truck into a daycare. The truck got stopped, sure, but it was completely totaled and there were rarely survivors.
"I just want a small place," he said, resisting the urge to reach over and cover Tony's hands with his own. Good God, he was fidgety! "Two bedrooms. A little yard..."
Tony's fingers stopped dead on the table, eyes widening. S.H.I.E.L.D must have given Steve unlimited resources, any house he saw, they would acquire. And he wanted a dinky little family home? Forcing a grin, Tony nodded slowly and resumed his constant tapping. "A two-bedroom...with a yard. I think I know where we can find something like that. I take it Fury gave you a nice advance on your first Cap Check?"
He shrugged, not particularly interested in talking about his money. When Fury had named the sum that would come on his monthly check, Steve had been staggered and had actually tried to argue him down. It was ridiculous, the amount of cash they were willing to throw at him for what was, after all, just his duty. But he'd accepted the offer in the end, figuring that he could use the money to help feed some of the homeless people in the city.
"He gave me what he called my 'living allowance'. It's a ridiculous amount of money," Steve sighed, lips quirking ruefully. "I guess I'll buy a house and some furniture and give the rest of it away. There's no way I'll ever use it all."
Hesitating to answer, Tony actually found himself staring for a moment. People like this just didn't exist anymore, they had been bulldozed to make way for office buildings and interstates. He was kind of stunned, almost into silence. How did one deal with a person so...good?
"Well..." he began, clearing his throat and continuing unphased, "If S.H.I.E.L.D is anything, they're generous with their money. They have some...very lucrative sponsors." And the sponsorship, of course, was the reason why every gun held by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent had Tony's name on the side. He may have given up some more of his wicked weapons merchant ways, but a man still had to make a buck.
"And, here we are..." he stood as two brown paper bags were delivered to the table, as well as two styrofoam cups full of ice and soda. He handed the drinks to Steve, winked at the waitress, and headed for the door. Naturally, he talked the entire time. "There's this great spot I have to show you. We'll eat lunch there...I think you'll like it, it's very quiet..."
Steve followed obediently, carrying the drinks back out to Tony's little sardine tin of a car. He climbed in, belted himself to the seat, and looked in vain for a pair of cupholders. Thwarted, he held the drinks in his lap and stared out the window again as Tony reversed and went screaming back onto the highway. The food smelled impossibly good, and Steve's stomach growled audibly.
"Sorry," he said, laughing slightly. "I still get excited over solid food..."
Laughing, Tony offered a lopsided smile and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The car wove through traffic, barely managing to take a small, almost hidden exit, turning onto a road that ended in what looked like a small, enclosed park. Huge trees almost completely blocked out the city around them, muting the sounds of people and traffic. Tony shut off the engine once more, parking between a row of flowering shrubs, and pushed open the door.
"There's a row of benches over there...you can see them, between the trees. Go on and take the drinks over, I'll catch up."
Steve stepped out of the car, inhaling deeply and smiling as he walked across the well-manicured lawns. It looked like some sort of park and, true to Tony's word, he liked in immensely. He'd missed this kind of beauty, all locked up in that damned hospital room. Sighing softly, he sat down on one of the benches and sipped his soda. It was sweeter than he remembered sodas being, but it still tasted good.
As Steve took the food towards a bench, Tony pulled his palm from the pocket of his jeans, tapping away with one thumb as he idily rubbed at the reactor in his chest. Within seconds he had pulled up a list of small residential properties for sale, yard included, that were just outside the city. Picking and saving a few of the better ones, he tucked the palm away and headed after Steve.
He found him sitting at a bench beside a small pond littered with ducks, a sculpture made from old bomber properllers sitting just on the other side. Tony gestured to the huge bronzed structure, unwrapping his greasy burger. "I have a couple like that in my workshop. It...well...they remind a man of his roots."
"It's... strange," Steve answered. He wasn't sure how to feel about a statue made out of something that, for him, had been the height of technology yesterday. Instead of thinking about it, he unwrapped his burger and began to eat. It was, as promised, incredibly spicy and he relished every bite.
"This is great," he said happily, grinning at Tony. "Better than the ones Banner got us from the cafeteria. I like these... how do you pronounce it again?"
"Jalapenos," Tony smiled, taking a bite out of his own burger and moaning, wiping his mouth on a rough, scratchy napkin. "Starts with a J, but you pronounce it H. And...did you say Dr Banner?"
He paused, taking a sip from his soda and popping half a handful of fries into his mouth. Tony couldn't say that he knew Dr Bruce Banner well, but the man's reputation amongst the SHIELD community had gotten very large indeed. Large, and green. Fury had even approached Tony to begin work on armor capable of taking down said personality.
"How did you find the good Dr? Personality wise, that is. I hear he's something of an odd individual."
"He was very nice to me," Steve answered mildly surprised by Tony's statement. He hadn't found Banner odd at all. A little jumpy maybe, but being a doctor was a hard job, and some people didn't handle stress very well. "We had dinner, he..." Steve paused, grimaced, and took a long drink of his soda. "He helped me find out a few things."
His thoughts turned unwillingly to Gail and Bucky, as they had so often for the past couple of days. He had their phone number, and their address, but he didn't think he was ready to contact them just yet. Maybe after he was settled in. Maybe after he had friends to help him absorb the shock of seeing the two people he'd cared about the most grown old.
"Mmm..." Tony nodded, oblivious of Steve's sudden discomfort. Listing to the tone and mood of those around him was rarely on the schedule of Tony Stark. Fortunately, the subject changed regardless, as he leaped towards another tangent.
"So!" he began, swallowing another mouthful of bread and grease. He'd never found a burger quite as good as the one in his hands. "Did Fury mention anything about the little team he's been wanting to put together?"
"Just curious. I hear you're going to have some fairly interesting teammates..." The small, mysterious smile stayed on as face as he ate, crumpling up the burger wrapper and turning his attention to the remainder of his fries. "Real wild-cards. Mavericks, I guess you could say. They'll be grateful for a leader who knows what he's doing..."
Leaning back on the bench, Tony propped his arms behind him, pushing the rim of the reactor against his shirt. He barely noticed it anymore, it had become such an ingrained part of his life. "But, even a fearless leader needs a house, so we should get going..."
"Mmm," Steve agree, balling up his trash and throwing it in neat arc so that it landed in a trash can a few feet away. "He told me about a few of them. Hank Pym and his wife. And some guy in a flying red and gold suit." Steve laughed sharply and stood up, shaking his head and glancing down at Tony. "Can you believe that? Some maniac actually flies around in a metal suit! Takes a special kind of lunatic to do that..."
Humming under his breath, he started back towards Tony's car, eager to find himself a place to live. "Are you coming?" he called over his shoulder.
Tony, somewhat startled by Steve's thoughts concerning his precious suit, was momentarily stunned into silence. By the time he caught up with the super soldier, Steve was already at the car, and Tony gave him yet another crooked grin. "You know, that metal suit guy...he built it himself. Must be some kind of genius. I mean, the flight logistics alone...it took man decades to get a plane in the air, and this guy doesn't even need wings..."
He pulled the car back out into traffic, pleased to note that Steve had become somewhat less frightened by the Lamborghini, and headed for an exit out of the city. "You should ask Fury to see the suit. It's a work of art."
"Yeah, maybe I will," Steve mused. "Maybe I'll talk to the guy, get him to take me flying." It had been a very long time since he'd been up in a plane, and the memories weren't always pleasant ones, but there was something about being up in the air...
He turned to Tony, eyes sparkling. It felt good to be animated about something again. "Do you know him, Tony?" he demanded. "Is he a friend of yours?" A bizarre thought occurred to him and he almost laughed out loud. But... was it really so far-fetched? Maybe not. Tony sure talked like he knew the suit firsthand, and Steve knew that the guy was some kind of insane genius inventor.
Tony bit his lip and bit hard, fingers drumming once more on the steering wheel. Honesty was a valued trait in most people, right? And he wanted to make a good impression on the man sitting next to him, who had just happened to be his childhood hero...right? He swallowed, and pulled the car to the side of the road, twisting in the seat and propping one elbow up on the headrest of his chair.
"Well, I haven't tried carrying an extra person yet, but I'm sure I could manage it." He grinned, broad and slightly toothy, offering his hand. "I'm Iron Man."
"Thought so," Steve said, taking Tony's hand and shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Iron Man." It felt silly, but it also felt good, so Steve continued with the ridiculousness. "I'm Captain America." And he laughed, the first genuine, way down deep in his belly laugh that he'd had since they'd extracted him from the ice.
"Just for the record," he said, "I still think you're a lunatic."
Tony, to his credit, managed to hide the slight flinch as Steve shook his hand. The man had the grip of a bench vice! He joined in on the laugh, leaning back in the chair and running a hand through his dark hair. "Mmmm, I was wondering how far I could go without spilling the secret. It's fairly common knowledge these days, but I wasn't sure if you'd been told."
Instead of gunning the engine and pulling out into traffic, he grinned and tugged at the hem of his shirt. "If you think I'm a lunatic now, wait until you see this. I made it myself...completely revolutionary technology, it's keeping me alive,"
He lifted his shirt - and the black shirt beneath it, pulling it up over the reactor and grinning as he looked down at it. It hummed and glowed steadily, made of shining steel and bright copper, embedded deep in his chest.
"Wow..." It was all he could really say, faced with what looked like space-age technology. "What... what does it do exactly?" It was beautiful, whatever it was. Steve reached out hesitantly, glanced up at Tony questioningly. "Can I touch it, or will that hurt you?"
"Go ahead. It's fine..." Tony answered, practically beaming. There was nothing he liked more than for people to be in awe of his own genius. He leaned forward a little, still holding his shirt up and talking as Steve gently touched the rim of the reactor.
"It's called an Arc reactor. I have several rather unfortunate pieces of shrapnel that are hellbent on piercing my heart. The reactor creates an electromagnetic field that holds them in place. It also generates enough energy to power my suit, and keep my rugged good looks in check. Pretty cool, huh?"
"It's very cool," Steve said, running his fingers around the edge of the reactor. He'd never seen anything like it, and it fascinated him. "We could have used some of these things during the war. I saw a lot of guys die from shrapnel." He grimaced slightly and sat back, angry with himself for ruining the light-hearted mood and homesick all over again.
"I had a very good friend die, helping me to survive the same wound," Tony replied, a strange serious tone to his voice. It passed within seconds and he shrugged, the magazine cover grin back on his face. "Anyway! That's why we're doing this, isn't it? You with your grotesquely bulging biceps, and me with my lunatic flying suit. Making the world a better place for good, honest Americans...and whatnot."
He revved the engine once again, taking the palm from his pocket and handing the slim piece of metal and plastic to Steve. "But you can't save the world without a nice little house to home to, right? Read off that first address for me, will you? We'll have you sleeping in your own bed by the end of the day."