Fourteen Explosions [Video] Get your fuckin' jumbo jet off my airport

[idmakeitaweek]

[Tony is sitting at a table in his personal lab lit only by computer screens. There are mechanical parts, computer parts and bits scattered all around him. He looks rumpled and even without the half full bottle of scotch next to him it would be obvious he's beyond drunk. When he speaks, his words are slurred]We invent things. We create things and

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[fromlegal]

"You know it'll simply replace in the morning." Natasha speaks as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, her heels clicking on the floor on her way in. The clipboard in front of her is actually digital and she types with one hand while speaking.

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[idmakeitaweek]

"Are you trying to talk me into breaking everything? All the fun none of the consequences. Just how I like it," Tony smirks. He takes a swig of scotch and watches Natasha as she walks across the lab.

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[fromlegal]

She looks up at him finally, less judging than assessing. "I meant the device. Everything else, well. If you'd like to throw a fit and start over on your projects, I've got no objections."

Really, Natasha's sort of calling his bluff. She knows she'll probably have to pour coffee on his head in the morning to get him to live again.

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[idmakeitaweek]

He actually considers it. Breaking things has it's appeal. There are a good number of projects in various stages here.

"No but breaking the device is fairly satisfying."

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[fromlegal]

Natasha nods and finally puts her clipboard down on the counter before moving farther into the room. There's no way she'll talk about how she's having trouble adjusting too, but she can at least ask him.

"The City beginning to get to you?"

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[idmakeitaweek]

"Not being home is getting to me," Tony answers dryly.

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[fromlegal]

She repeats to herself in her head that calling him a 6-year-old and asking that he not throw his temper tantrum right now won't help anything.

"Gets to everyone. Anything I can do at this point?"

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[idmakeitaweek]

He ponders her question. He's feeling confessional tonight. Okay well the scotch has made him confessional.

"Everything was good at home. I was even going to give Pepper a chance; give up the Maxim models--and you have no idea how much that hurt and then--"

He punctuates the sentence by kicking a pile of miscellaneous mechanical bits.

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[fromlegal]

Natasha doesn't react to his small outburst; she approaches him and places a hand on his arm instead of stepping away. It's a little bit manipulative, sure, but she thinks he has a right to react badly.

"I know. That's still happening, though. You just feel it's paused because you're here, but when you return you'll forget all of this." She pauses, maybe even hesitates. But that's a little manipulative, too. "I like to think of all of this as a dream, myself."

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[idmakeitaweek]

He stops, going oddly still when she touches him. It's not that she never has it's just that she doesn't usually. She's not that sort of assistant. He turns his head a bit, looking at her without moving and for a minute he looks very thoughtful. He's trying to figure out what the game is here. Tony isn't stupid. He's well aware of Natasha's motivations in working for him. They don't include caring about him.

"Yeah. So they say. Which makes everything we do here pointless."

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[fromlegal]

"Is that so?" She moves away from him, to start picking up the new mess he's made.

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[idmakeitaweek]

He thinks about it before answering. Really this fit is about everything but pointlessness.

"I miss..." And another long pause. "h-home."

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[fromlegal]

Of course it is. Otherwise his reaction to it might not be so intense. She piles the remnants of some project up on the table and then perches up next to it, staying silent in an attempt to allow him to keep talking. There isn't anything she'll be able to say that'll make him feel any better or. There's nothing she can do to get him to not drink himself blind on the network.

So, she just watches him, happy to let him talk it out.

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[idmakeitaweek]

It takes him a while. He's not prone to talking about things but that's also the beauty of being this drunk. It makes him confessional. Her silence helps. It's a bit like talking to himself.

"I was doing things there. Still...me but good things. And I was taking a chance."

Relationship wise he's talking. He won't say that outright though.

"Here, none of that means anything. All build up. No payoff. And I know once I'm back there it all bounces back but in the meantime...I'm dealing with all the build up."

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[fromlegal]

"What do you mean by build up and payoff?" She knows, or at least she thinks she knows. But won't it be more beneficial if he talks through it?

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[idmakeitaweek]

It takes him a very, very long time to answer. He picks the scotch bottle up and takes a sip before putting it back on the table. He paces a moment then leans against a table with his weight on the heels of his hands. After a few moments he moves over to the computer screen and starts pulling up schematics, switching things back and forth to occupy himself.

"The whole...world peace thing." And then in a lower voice, "The thing with Ms. Potts."