Iron Man - Real Friends Help You Get Naked (Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Jarvis, Happy - PG13)
Hell, this one even made me laugh.
Iron Man
Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Jarvis, Happy or Tony + Everyone
Rated PG-13
Real Friends Help You Get Naked
Every time Tony adds a new responsibility to Pepper Potts' job requirements, he gives her a little boost in salary. For example:
* Picking up the 'dry cleaning' = $5,000 per annum
* Taking out the trash = $1,000 per load
* Answering phone calls after 1a.m. = $3,000 per annum
* Keeping sane while Tony was missing in Afghanistan = $50,000 (a one time bonus, hopefully)
* Occasional maintenance assistance with Maggie, the chest arc generator = $15,000 per annum
* Helping to extract Tony from his Iron Man uniform = six pairs of Christian Louboutains, two front row seats to New York fashion week, three weeks in Bali and a whole lot of undying gratitude.
The undying gratitude lasts until the next time Tony needs to be extracted, which tends to be every 24-48 hours. So, right about now. In fact, Tony can hear Pepper's heels clacking to the rescue at this very moment. Oh, happy day.
"Tony, I was on a date," Pepper bitches as she descends into the work room. "A real, live, a-man-likes-me-and-I-like-him-back date. How dare you send Happy to -- oh, my god."
Tony cocks one naked hip out and leans on his workstation. "This isn't what it looks like. Actually, that's not true. This is totally what it looks like."
Pepper seems to be frozen in the doorway. Maybe she's overcome with lust. "Where's your underwear?"
"Would you believe me if I said the suit ate it?"
"No!"
"Okay, well, that's actually true this time."
"Tony." Pepper is looking somewhere over Tony's right shoulder.
"Okay, then, surprise!" Tony stands upright proudly, displaying himself in all of his Stark glory. It's not like she's never seen him naked before. There's not much of anything Pepper hasn't seen at this point. There was even this one time that a vindictive conquest put diuretics in Tony's whiskey. That was a bad scene all around.
Pepper sighs and slams her purse down on the nearest workstation. "This is not the sort of surprise I was looking for tonight, Tony."
It actually takes Tony a minute to get it. "Oh my god, Potts. Were you going to get lucky? I feel slightly scandalized. Clearly it's a good thing Happy arrived when he did."
"It is not a good thing Happy arrived when he did," Pepper snaps.
"I can't run around the house naked with an Iron Man helmet on!"
"Funny how nothing's ever stopped you from running around naked before."
"This is true -- but still. I can't drink like this, and I need a drink."
"You always need a drink. You make me need a drink. And why didn't you put on some clothes? Please, for the love of my eyes, put on some clothes."
"You mean you're not impressed?" Tony's sulking is wasted inside the helmet.
Pepper points a very pissed off finger in Tony's direction. "At the moment that helmet is the only thing keeping me from crushing your superhero-addled brain with my bare hands," she says, turning to one of the other workstations.
"You know, I've got some other bare -- hey, who turned out the lights?"
"I am not coming near you until you cover yourself properly."
Tony grabs at his head -- the offender is a dirty, greasy work rag. It won't even cover his ass. Kinky. "Aw, Pepper, you're no fun," he says, using the rag like a loincloth.
He's had much dirtier things on his dick.
"Fun, Tony?" Pepper advances on Tony wielding a screwdriver like a machete. "Fun?"
Tony holds up his hands protectively, remembers the warning about the rag, and lowers them again. "I'm sorry?" he offers, as Pepper grabs him by the neck brace and yanks him towards a brighter light.
When Pepper bends him over a desk, Tony gets really excited, and then there's the sound of metal being wrenched into submission by a very angry woman and Tony sighs. "I'm sorry, Potts, really."
"You wouldn't know sorry if it bit you on the ass," Pepper retorts.
"You could bite me on the ass instead," Tony offers.
And then Tony gets spanked with a screwdriver by his personal assistant
He wonders how much he should give her to make this a regular part of the job.
Tony calls Rhodey because he's already called Pepper twice this week, and the second time she came over, Tony could see that murderous gleam in her eye that he's only seen in women he's had escorted from the premises by guards.
The thing about Rhodey, though, is that seeing Tony naked doesn't phase him. Rhodey sees naked men every day. Sometimes Tony thinks he should've joined the military just for all the skin, and then he remembers he can see all the naked people he wants, whenever he wants, for free -- that's what youporn.com is for.
However, youporn.com or pornotube.com won't watch the NBA Finals with Tony and help him extract his foot from a crushed left boot the looks like it got caught in a car compactor.
Porn websites definitely won't let Tony drape himself over their thighs like a particularly lazy stripper giving a cut-rate lap dance.
Rhodey is being a lot more gentle with the extraction than Tony is; Tony just wants out. "My dead grandma could move faster than you," Tony gripes, whacking Rhodey on the arm to get him moving.
"You got in it on your own, you want my help getting out, you can shut up and let me do it.'"
"I feel like I've heard this before," Tony says thoughtfully. "Are you still mad at me about that time in Puerto Vallarta?"
Rhodes narrows his eyes. "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't talk about that again."
"No, you said we wouldn't talk about it again; I was drunk."
Rhodey scowls. "Clearly not drunk enough."
"I was drunk enough to know that that thing you do with your mouth is illegal in a lot of states," Tony says beatifically.
"I could just break your leg at the knee and then you wouldn't have to worry about getting this boot off," Rhodey replies just as breezily.
Tony nods his head. "Now there's a thought."
"You want to keep having them?" Rhodey has got his screwdriver wedged in between two particularly stubborn panels. This could go badly, but Tony is nothing if not adventurous.
"If I wanna keep having what? Thoughts or blow jobs?"
The panel goes flying across the room, smacks the plasma screen and falls on the floor.
"Hey, you break it you buy it," Tony protests, wiggling his now free toes.
"I will break your foot," Rhodey says, shoving Tony's leg off his lap and onto the floor. The rest of the dismembered boot clatters and thumps against the marble tiling.
Tony licks his mouth lewdly. "As long as my dick still works, I'll live."
"I hate you," Rhodey says definitively before getting up and stalking off to the kitchen. "I hate you so much."
"Think about how much more you could hate me if you came to work for me!" Tony calls.
"Over your dead body," Rhodey retorts.
"Over my naked body? Is that what you said, Rhodey? I've been working out; I've got things you haven't seen since the last time." Tony isn't fast enough to duck the orange that Rhodey throws at his head. He feels the breeze as it sails over his hair. "I feel like you're mad at me, are you mad at me?"
"I hate you, Tony," Rhodey reiterates.
Tony taps his chest and chuckles. "I love it when we bond. It makes my arc generator hot."
Eventually, Tony will build a suit that he doesn't have to be extracted from, but today isn't that day. Today, Tony has called upon the great and all knowing prowess of J.A.R.V.I.S. Not that Tony doesn't always call upon Jarvis, but sometimes Tony just can't stand being grabbed at for more than an hour without a happy finish. They're going to have to learn how to expedite this matter.
"Sir, I really think it would help if you could lower your leg a bit," Jarvis intones.
Tony wobbles. "If I could lower my leg a bit then I wouldn't need you to get me out of this position, now would I, smart ass?"
"No reason to get surly, sir."
"'No, reason to get surly, sir'," Tony mocks. "Say something else dirty to me, Jarvis."
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
Yes, Tony knows that Jarvis sounds like the English actor Paul Bettany. He's the one who built Jarvis in the first place, of course he fucking knows who he sounds like. Jarvis' vocal programming was originally between Paul Bettany and Jon Stewart, so Tony just melded the two: Paul's voice and Jon's sense of humor.
"That's good," Tony prods. "Say something else -- something -- are you allowed to put your hands there?"
"I don't have hands, sir."
"Okay, are you allowed to put your probes there?"
"I'm just trying to do my job, sir."
"Hand or blow?"
The original version of Jarvis sounded just like Tony's dad, but that had to go after the first time Tony had to ask Jarvis to call Pepper to come and untie him from his headboard.
Long story, just as kinky as you'd think, actually, no, it's more so. Even for Tony.
"I don't know what you are referring to, sir."
"Yeah, I bet you don't, you saucy… A.I."
"I'm flattered that you find me so irresistible."
"I built you, I know what I like -- hey, can you do that again?" Jarvis is currently attempting to remove Tony's breast plate, but if Jarvis were a human, Tony would swear he's copping a feel.
"Do what exactly, again?"
"That -- oooh, right there."
"Sir, I get the feeling that you're using me for purposes other than those for which I am intended."
"I'll tell you what you were intended for -- can you make that vibrate?"
"If it would make you happy, sir."
"It would make me very happy, Jarvis. I only wish the rest of the planet were as obliging as you are."
"As I said, I do what I can."
"That's great -- can you get me a tissue?"
"Hap, I need you to pull my finger." Tony pauses in his entranceway and rewinds the words in his head. It sounds worse than it is. Doesn't everything he says?
"Hey, Happy!" he calls, shading his eyes as he crosses the front lawn to where Happy is buffing the Phantom in the driveway. Happy doesn't look up though, he just keeps shaking his ass, doing a little dance, and making faces in the Phantom's blindingly unblemished chrome.
To be fair, Tony does understand how Happy feels. He's very passionate about his cars too,
In fact, Happy only glances upward when Tony's shadow falls on the front fender, but the little white headphones explain everything -- he's listening to his iPod.
When Happy pulls one of the ear buds out, Tony can just make out the strains of... Kanye West. Huh. "I'm sorry, did you say something, sir?"
Tony smirks. "Enjoying yourself?"
"I'm alive, working in Malibu, and I get to drive this gorgeous piece of art everyday," Happy says with a smile. "How can I not be happy?"
Tony considers this. "Good point."
"Was there something you needed, sir?" Happy asks, shifting his chamois from one hand to the other. "You feeling like a race or something? Maybe a little trip to Santa Barbara?"
"Maybe a little later," Tony waves his right hand in the air. "Right now I need you to pull my finger."
Happy blinks. "Sorry, sir?"
Tony looks down. Wrong arm. Tony waves his left arm at Happy this time, the one encased in red and gold titanium alloy. "I need you to pull my finger, the wrist guard is stuck."
To his credit, Happy shrugs, grabs Tony's finger, and yanks hard.
The wrist guard goes flying off and Happy stumbles back a bit, holding the guard by its middle finger. He only snickers once.
"Your finger, sir," he says, holding the gauntlet out to Tony with a wide smile.
Tony chuckles. "That is a very famous finger, Hap. Do you have any idea where it's been?"
"I have some idea, sir," Happy says.
"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry about landing on the car last week."
"It's okay," Happy smiles, "I can't really complain about a Rolls upgrade."
There comes a time in every man's life where he has to learn how to do things on his own. For Tony Stark that time hasn't quite arrived yet. Actually, responsibility and independence did come around to make introductions once, but Tony had been out the night before and had subsequently passed out naked in his bathroom on top of two strippers, so he missed the doorbell.
Apparently, responsibility and independence have reared their ugly heads again, because it's a little after midnight on a Sunday and Tony is once again squashed into his suit and he can't get out. No, really.
"Jarvis, do something," Tony bitches. He's got his arms and legs in the air like Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. "You've been working at this for thirty minutes. What the hell is taking so long?"
"Sir, I'm doing all I can, but you're simply too tightly encapsulated in your armor. In order to extricate you, I would have to break several bones and then slide you out like an invertebrate."
"I need to get out of here. I have to pee."
"Sir, we discussed these human necessities before, you said you would work them into the Mark 4."
"Well -- well -- shit." Sometimes Tony's too impatient for his own good.
"If you simply must be freed now," Jarvis hedges, "I could cut you out." Somewhere a buzz saw comes to life and Tony's need to pee is briefly forgotten.
"No! No saws!" he says, attempting to yank himself free of Jarvis' restraints and consequently falling on his ass. He's going to have to put more padding in the suit when he puts in the trapdoor for his dick.
"Well, sir, I don't have any other methods of liberation currently at my disposal." Jarvis seems just as exasperated as Tony. It takes talent to piss off an A.I.
"Pepper. Call Pepper."
"As you wish."
Except Pepper doesn't answer her mobile. Or her home phone. Or the emergency phone that Tony had stashed in her Audi for those occasions when she claimed to have lost her cell phone and her PDA and her GPS mysteriously cuts out.
"What the hell kind of assistant isn't around at this time of the morning?" Tony moans. "The one time I need her and she decides to get a life? That's completely unacceptable."
"On Miss Potts behalf, I have to object, sir," Jarvis interjects.
"You object?" Tony's incredulousness is second only to -- well, nothing. "I knew I made you too smart. Just remember who built you."
"How could I ever forget?" Jarvis' tone is marvelously droll. It's actually very hot. Tony can hear Paul Bettany now. Clearly it's Tony who's too smart for his own good.
"Call Rhodey," Tony says.
"Sir, it's after midnight, do you really think summoning Lt. Colonel Rhodes --"
"Call Rhodey, now," Tony repeats.
"Calling Lt. Colonel Rhodes now," Jarvis replies.
"Hello," Rhodey's voice booms over Jarvis' speakers.
"Oh, Rhodey, thank God," Tony pleads.
"You've reached the voice mail for Lt. Colonel James Rhodes of the United States Air Force. Please --"
"Shit shit shit."
"Would you like for me to leave that message for Colonel Rhodes, sir?" Jarvis asks smoothly.
"Jarvis, if you were real, I would punch you," Tony snaps. "Call Happy."
"You gave Mr. Hogan the night off," Jarvis reminds him, in what can only be described as a smug tone.
Tony sighs. Nobody said the life of a superhero was so damn rough. And claustrophobic. And bad for the bladder.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Tony gripes.
"I have suggested what I believe to be the best course," Jarvis says.
"Yeah, you know, being chopped into bits by my A.I. wasn't really high on my list of things I wanted to do tonight."
"Be that as it may, sir, I do not see any alternative, unless you wish to stay in your suit until tomorrow -- wait, I have an incoming text message from Miss Potts. Would you like for me to put it up on the screen?"
"Yes! For the love of all that is artificially intelligent, when is the cavalry arriving? I have to take a leak!"
And then Pepper's message flashes before Tony's eyes in black and white, and Tony realizes he may be waiting a long time.
Tony:
Having orgy without you. Good luck with the costume. Sucks to be you.
-Rhodey, Pepper and Happy
It takes Tony several moments to process what the message says. The first read doesn't even register, the second makes him angry, the third makes him a bit jealous, by the fourth he begins to get the message. He sighs loudly. "Jarvis? Break out the saw, it looks like it's just you and me from now on."
"I tried to tell you, sir."
"Nobody likes a know-it-all-computer."
"You know, I have some reprocessing I need to do, sir, perhaps we could extract you later."
"You better be joking, Jarvis. Jarvis? JARVIS?" It appears, however, that Tony is all alone. After a moment or six Tony stomps over to his workstation and grabs a screwdriver. If he wants something done right, he'll have to do it himself.
Life is so lonely at the top; this was totally not in the superhero handbook that S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him.
-end-
Iron Man
Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Jarvis, Happy or Tony + Everyone
Rated PG-13
Real Friends Help You Get Naked
Every time Tony adds a new responsibility to Pepper Potts' job requirements, he gives her a little boost in salary. For example:
* Picking up the 'dry cleaning' = $5,000 per annum
* Taking out the trash = $1,000 per load
* Answering phone calls after 1a.m. = $3,000 per annum
* Keeping sane while Tony was missing in Afghanistan = $50,000 (a one time bonus, hopefully)
* Occasional maintenance assistance with Maggie, the chest arc generator = $15,000 per annum
* Helping to extract Tony from his Iron Man uniform = six pairs of Christian Louboutains, two front row seats to New York fashion week, three weeks in Bali and a whole lot of undying gratitude.
The undying gratitude lasts until the next time Tony needs to be extracted, which tends to be every 24-48 hours. So, right about now. In fact, Tony can hear Pepper's heels clacking to the rescue at this very moment. Oh, happy day.
"Tony, I was on a date," Pepper bitches as she descends into the work room. "A real, live, a-man-likes-me-and-I-like-him-back date. How dare you send Happy to -- oh, my god."
Tony cocks one naked hip out and leans on his workstation. "This isn't what it looks like. Actually, that's not true. This is totally what it looks like."
Pepper seems to be frozen in the doorway. Maybe she's overcome with lust. "Where's your underwear?"
"Would you believe me if I said the suit ate it?"
"No!"
"Okay, well, that's actually true this time."
"Tony." Pepper is looking somewhere over Tony's right shoulder.
"Okay, then, surprise!" Tony stands upright proudly, displaying himself in all of his Stark glory. It's not like she's never seen him naked before. There's not much of anything Pepper hasn't seen at this point. There was even this one time that a vindictive conquest put diuretics in Tony's whiskey. That was a bad scene all around.
Pepper sighs and slams her purse down on the nearest workstation. "This is not the sort of surprise I was looking for tonight, Tony."
It actually takes Tony a minute to get it. "Oh my god, Potts. Were you going to get lucky? I feel slightly scandalized. Clearly it's a good thing Happy arrived when he did."
"It is not a good thing Happy arrived when he did," Pepper snaps.
"I can't run around the house naked with an Iron Man helmet on!"
"Funny how nothing's ever stopped you from running around naked before."
"This is true -- but still. I can't drink like this, and I need a drink."
"You always need a drink. You make me need a drink. And why didn't you put on some clothes? Please, for the love of my eyes, put on some clothes."
"You mean you're not impressed?" Tony's sulking is wasted inside the helmet.
Pepper points a very pissed off finger in Tony's direction. "At the moment that helmet is the only thing keeping me from crushing your superhero-addled brain with my bare hands," she says, turning to one of the other workstations.
"You know, I've got some other bare -- hey, who turned out the lights?"
"I am not coming near you until you cover yourself properly."
Tony grabs at his head -- the offender is a dirty, greasy work rag. It won't even cover his ass. Kinky. "Aw, Pepper, you're no fun," he says, using the rag like a loincloth.
He's had much dirtier things on his dick.
"Fun, Tony?" Pepper advances on Tony wielding a screwdriver like a machete. "Fun?"
Tony holds up his hands protectively, remembers the warning about the rag, and lowers them again. "I'm sorry?" he offers, as Pepper grabs him by the neck brace and yanks him towards a brighter light.
When Pepper bends him over a desk, Tony gets really excited, and then there's the sound of metal being wrenched into submission by a very angry woman and Tony sighs. "I'm sorry, Potts, really."
"You wouldn't know sorry if it bit you on the ass," Pepper retorts.
"You could bite me on the ass instead," Tony offers.
And then Tony gets spanked with a screwdriver by his personal assistant
He wonders how much he should give her to make this a regular part of the job.
Tony calls Rhodey because he's already called Pepper twice this week, and the second time she came over, Tony could see that murderous gleam in her eye that he's only seen in women he's had escorted from the premises by guards.
The thing about Rhodey, though, is that seeing Tony naked doesn't phase him. Rhodey sees naked men every day. Sometimes Tony thinks he should've joined the military just for all the skin, and then he remembers he can see all the naked people he wants, whenever he wants, for free -- that's what youporn.com is for.
However, youporn.com or pornotube.com won't watch the NBA Finals with Tony and help him extract his foot from a crushed left boot the looks like it got caught in a car compactor.
Porn websites definitely won't let Tony drape himself over their thighs like a particularly lazy stripper giving a cut-rate lap dance.
Rhodey is being a lot more gentle with the extraction than Tony is; Tony just wants out. "My dead grandma could move faster than you," Tony gripes, whacking Rhodey on the arm to get him moving.
"You got in it on your own, you want my help getting out, you can shut up and let me do it.'"
"I feel like I've heard this before," Tony says thoughtfully. "Are you still mad at me about that time in Puerto Vallarta?"
Rhodes narrows his eyes. "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't talk about that again."
"No, you said we wouldn't talk about it again; I was drunk."
Rhodey scowls. "Clearly not drunk enough."
"I was drunk enough to know that that thing you do with your mouth is illegal in a lot of states," Tony says beatifically.
"I could just break your leg at the knee and then you wouldn't have to worry about getting this boot off," Rhodey replies just as breezily.
Tony nods his head. "Now there's a thought."
"You want to keep having them?" Rhodey has got his screwdriver wedged in between two particularly stubborn panels. This could go badly, but Tony is nothing if not adventurous.
"If I wanna keep having what? Thoughts or blow jobs?"
The panel goes flying across the room, smacks the plasma screen and falls on the floor.
"Hey, you break it you buy it," Tony protests, wiggling his now free toes.
"I will break your foot," Rhodey says, shoving Tony's leg off his lap and onto the floor. The rest of the dismembered boot clatters and thumps against the marble tiling.
Tony licks his mouth lewdly. "As long as my dick still works, I'll live."
"I hate you," Rhodey says definitively before getting up and stalking off to the kitchen. "I hate you so much."
"Think about how much more you could hate me if you came to work for me!" Tony calls.
"Over your dead body," Rhodey retorts.
"Over my naked body? Is that what you said, Rhodey? I've been working out; I've got things you haven't seen since the last time." Tony isn't fast enough to duck the orange that Rhodey throws at his head. He feels the breeze as it sails over his hair. "I feel like you're mad at me, are you mad at me?"
"I hate you, Tony," Rhodey reiterates.
Tony taps his chest and chuckles. "I love it when we bond. It makes my arc generator hot."
Eventually, Tony will build a suit that he doesn't have to be extracted from, but today isn't that day. Today, Tony has called upon the great and all knowing prowess of J.A.R.V.I.S. Not that Tony doesn't always call upon Jarvis, but sometimes Tony just can't stand being grabbed at for more than an hour without a happy finish. They're going to have to learn how to expedite this matter.
"Sir, I really think it would help if you could lower your leg a bit," Jarvis intones.
Tony wobbles. "If I could lower my leg a bit then I wouldn't need you to get me out of this position, now would I, smart ass?"
"No reason to get surly, sir."
"'No, reason to get surly, sir'," Tony mocks. "Say something else dirty to me, Jarvis."
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
Yes, Tony knows that Jarvis sounds like the English actor Paul Bettany. He's the one who built Jarvis in the first place, of course he fucking knows who he sounds like. Jarvis' vocal programming was originally between Paul Bettany and Jon Stewart, so Tony just melded the two: Paul's voice and Jon's sense of humor.
"That's good," Tony prods. "Say something else -- something -- are you allowed to put your hands there?"
"I don't have hands, sir."
"Okay, are you allowed to put your probes there?"
"I'm just trying to do my job, sir."
"Hand or blow?"
The original version of Jarvis sounded just like Tony's dad, but that had to go after the first time Tony had to ask Jarvis to call Pepper to come and untie him from his headboard.
Long story, just as kinky as you'd think, actually, no, it's more so. Even for Tony.
"I don't know what you are referring to, sir."
"Yeah, I bet you don't, you saucy… A.I."
"I'm flattered that you find me so irresistible."
"I built you, I know what I like -- hey, can you do that again?" Jarvis is currently attempting to remove Tony's breast plate, but if Jarvis were a human, Tony would swear he's copping a feel.
"Do what exactly, again?"
"That -- oooh, right there."
"Sir, I get the feeling that you're using me for purposes other than those for which I am intended."
"I'll tell you what you were intended for -- can you make that vibrate?"
"If it would make you happy, sir."
"It would make me very happy, Jarvis. I only wish the rest of the planet were as obliging as you are."
"As I said, I do what I can."
"That's great -- can you get me a tissue?"
"Hap, I need you to pull my finger." Tony pauses in his entranceway and rewinds the words in his head. It sounds worse than it is. Doesn't everything he says?
"Hey, Happy!" he calls, shading his eyes as he crosses the front lawn to where Happy is buffing the Phantom in the driveway. Happy doesn't look up though, he just keeps shaking his ass, doing a little dance, and making faces in the Phantom's blindingly unblemished chrome.
To be fair, Tony does understand how Happy feels. He's very passionate about his cars too,
In fact, Happy only glances upward when Tony's shadow falls on the front fender, but the little white headphones explain everything -- he's listening to his iPod.
When Happy pulls one of the ear buds out, Tony can just make out the strains of... Kanye West. Huh. "I'm sorry, did you say something, sir?"
Tony smirks. "Enjoying yourself?"
"I'm alive, working in Malibu, and I get to drive this gorgeous piece of art everyday," Happy says with a smile. "How can I not be happy?"
Tony considers this. "Good point."
"Was there something you needed, sir?" Happy asks, shifting his chamois from one hand to the other. "You feeling like a race or something? Maybe a little trip to Santa Barbara?"
"Maybe a little later," Tony waves his right hand in the air. "Right now I need you to pull my finger."
Happy blinks. "Sorry, sir?"
Tony looks down. Wrong arm. Tony waves his left arm at Happy this time, the one encased in red and gold titanium alloy. "I need you to pull my finger, the wrist guard is stuck."
To his credit, Happy shrugs, grabs Tony's finger, and yanks hard.
The wrist guard goes flying off and Happy stumbles back a bit, holding the guard by its middle finger. He only snickers once.
"Your finger, sir," he says, holding the gauntlet out to Tony with a wide smile.
Tony chuckles. "That is a very famous finger, Hap. Do you have any idea where it's been?"
"I have some idea, sir," Happy says.
"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry about landing on the car last week."
"It's okay," Happy smiles, "I can't really complain about a Rolls upgrade."
There comes a time in every man's life where he has to learn how to do things on his own. For Tony Stark that time hasn't quite arrived yet. Actually, responsibility and independence did come around to make introductions once, but Tony had been out the night before and had subsequently passed out naked in his bathroom on top of two strippers, so he missed the doorbell.
Apparently, responsibility and independence have reared their ugly heads again, because it's a little after midnight on a Sunday and Tony is once again squashed into his suit and he can't get out. No, really.
"Jarvis, do something," Tony bitches. He's got his arms and legs in the air like Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. "You've been working at this for thirty minutes. What the hell is taking so long?"
"Sir, I'm doing all I can, but you're simply too tightly encapsulated in your armor. In order to extricate you, I would have to break several bones and then slide you out like an invertebrate."
"I need to get out of here. I have to pee."
"Sir, we discussed these human necessities before, you said you would work them into the Mark 4."
"Well -- well -- shit." Sometimes Tony's too impatient for his own good.
"If you simply must be freed now," Jarvis hedges, "I could cut you out." Somewhere a buzz saw comes to life and Tony's need to pee is briefly forgotten.
"No! No saws!" he says, attempting to yank himself free of Jarvis' restraints and consequently falling on his ass. He's going to have to put more padding in the suit when he puts in the trapdoor for his dick.
"Well, sir, I don't have any other methods of liberation currently at my disposal." Jarvis seems just as exasperated as Tony. It takes talent to piss off an A.I.
"Pepper. Call Pepper."
"As you wish."
Except Pepper doesn't answer her mobile. Or her home phone. Or the emergency phone that Tony had stashed in her Audi for those occasions when she claimed to have lost her cell phone and her PDA and her GPS mysteriously cuts out.
"What the hell kind of assistant isn't around at this time of the morning?" Tony moans. "The one time I need her and she decides to get a life? That's completely unacceptable."
"On Miss Potts behalf, I have to object, sir," Jarvis interjects.
"You object?" Tony's incredulousness is second only to -- well, nothing. "I knew I made you too smart. Just remember who built you."
"How could I ever forget?" Jarvis' tone is marvelously droll. It's actually very hot. Tony can hear Paul Bettany now. Clearly it's Tony who's too smart for his own good.
"Call Rhodey," Tony says.
"Sir, it's after midnight, do you really think summoning Lt. Colonel Rhodes --"
"Call Rhodey, now," Tony repeats.
"Calling Lt. Colonel Rhodes now," Jarvis replies.
"Hello," Rhodey's voice booms over Jarvis' speakers.
"Oh, Rhodey, thank God," Tony pleads.
"You've reached the voice mail for Lt. Colonel James Rhodes of the United States Air Force. Please --"
"Shit shit shit."
"Would you like for me to leave that message for Colonel Rhodes, sir?" Jarvis asks smoothly.
"Jarvis, if you were real, I would punch you," Tony snaps. "Call Happy."
"You gave Mr. Hogan the night off," Jarvis reminds him, in what can only be described as a smug tone.
Tony sighs. Nobody said the life of a superhero was so damn rough. And claustrophobic. And bad for the bladder.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Tony gripes.
"I have suggested what I believe to be the best course," Jarvis says.
"Yeah, you know, being chopped into bits by my A.I. wasn't really high on my list of things I wanted to do tonight."
"Be that as it may, sir, I do not see any alternative, unless you wish to stay in your suit until tomorrow -- wait, I have an incoming text message from Miss Potts. Would you like for me to put it up on the screen?"
"Yes! For the love of all that is artificially intelligent, when is the cavalry arriving? I have to take a leak!"
And then Pepper's message flashes before Tony's eyes in black and white, and Tony realizes he may be waiting a long time.
Tony:
Having orgy without you. Good luck with the costume. Sucks to be you.
-Rhodey, Pepper and Happy
It takes Tony several moments to process what the message says. The first read doesn't even register, the second makes him angry, the third makes him a bit jealous, by the fourth he begins to get the message. He sighs loudly. "Jarvis? Break out the saw, it looks like it's just you and me from now on."
"I tried to tell you, sir."
"Nobody likes a know-it-all-computer."
"You know, I have some reprocessing I need to do, sir, perhaps we could extract you later."
"You better be joking, Jarvis. Jarvis? JARVIS?" It appears, however, that Tony is all alone. After a moment or six Tony stomps over to his workstation and grabs a screwdriver. If he wants something done right, he'll have to do it himself.
Life is so lonely at the top; this was totally not in the superhero handbook that S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him.
-end-