Sam had come to his office a few minutes before Iron Man arrived. Tyler from down the street was there ahead of both of them, though--Tyler with his dogged _Eastern Birds_ guide and an excited talk about a scarlet tanager he'd seen in the park
( ... )
If you weren't going to make a man wait, convince him to get on your schedule.
Tony gave Wilson a small nod. He didn't step toward him. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything." Taking in the his from Redwing, Tony added, "I don't think your bird likes me."
"Fortunately," Tony said, keeping a total deadpan. "I never provoke anyone."
He let the armor fall away and stood before Sam in casual civilian clothes. Without waiting for the other man, Tony walked toward the entrance to the stairwell. "Your office, then? I know it's not bugged."
"Glad to hear it. Come on down, then." Sam pulled open the door to the roof and walked down the stairs.
"H'lo, Mrs. Johnson," he said to an old lady on the fourth floor, and "Hi, Dave," to a boy on the third. Both of them greeted Sam and stared at Tony Stark.
Sam's office was on the second floor and he opened the door for Tony. "Come on in."
Tony had been here a few times -- looking for Steve.
He noted the wary looks from Wilson's neighbors, so different from the friendly smiles they gave Sam. Well, a well-dressed white man in this neighborhood was probably suspect by definition. Tony was less sure whether they knew him, how much the general public (as opposed to the segment that watched cable news obsessively) would recognize Tony, as opposed to Iron Man. He didn't know how much Sam's neighbors knew about his other profession either.
Stepping into the office, Tony reflected that he didn't actually know much about the work that Sam did here. Sure, the Maria Stark foundation had given him awards for it, but as for what it actually consisted of.
Tony looked around, "So -- the boy who was here before? One of your, ahh, youth-at-risk?" He was trying hard to sound interested, and at least somewhat knowledgeable.
Sam noticed Tony's slight discomfort with his surroundings and smiled to himself. Nothing like taking a rich white guy into Harlem to put him off balance.
"Tyler? Not really--mostly he just comes over to talk about birds. Don't worry, you weren't interrupting me with a client."
He sat down behind his desk. "Have a seat," he said to Tony, gesturing at the chairs his clients usually used. "Now...what was it that you wanted to talk about?"
Tony didn't take the seat, but walked toward the small fridge in one corner of the office. "I'm a little thirsty, you got a Coke or something? You always used to keep them here for St--" He stopped, frowned. He had hardly been in this office, ever, so why should he remember?
He turned back to Sam. If I wanted you in Siberia do you really think I'd be looking for an excuse? If I ask you what you think, it's because I'd like to know."
"Help yourself." Sam frowned at the Steve comment: that was not something Tony should know. And the way Tony had stopped--had he just realized that it wasn't something Sam should know he knew? Or something else. He shuddered inwardly at the invasion of privacy but let it pass for now--something to ask Steve about next they talked, perhaps
( ... )
Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "You were at the courthouse that day, Sam, it was suspicious. There had been a lot of chatter -- weird rumors -- some theories floating around about villains using mind control to get to people through those who were close to them. Well, with Steve, there were three obvious suspects and --"
He stopped, staring at the clock over by the window. It was an old white one with a black rim, the kind you saw in secondary school classrooms. It shouldn't have been there. Tony had bought a replacement for Sam as a gift -- one he thought was moderately priced, high quality wood, guaranteed to keep perfect time with hardly any maintenance. Sam's reception had been frosty, and when they'd gotten home, Steve had pointed out that Tony's "moderate" gift probably cost more than anything else in the office.
Obviously that hadn't happened in this world.
Now, Tony turned around and jabbed a fist into the wall. "Fucking Wanda," he said.
"You suspected me of KILLING him, Tony?" Before Sam can begin to formulate an appropriate reaction to this--as opposed to the first one that comes to mind, namely punching Tony in his ever-so-superior face--the man confuses him even further by deciding to attack Sam's wall.
"What the hell, Stark?" He jumped up around--almost over--the desk to stand and stare from Tony to the wall and back again. Fortunately whatever was up with Tony's armor these days did not seem to affect his strength without it, so the wall was doing just fine. "Stop that, it'll disturb the neighbors."
Tony turned around and spread his hands. "I didn't suspect you, Sam, I suspected the Skull. We had to explore all avenues. As for this idea that I coerced you into signing, I'll say it again. You're welcome to take it back." He curled his lip a little. "I'll even give you a few hours' headstart."
Rubbing his sore knuckles into his palm, he said. "This conversation is getting a little confusing for me. I remember being here before, a lot more than I've actually been here before. Wanda," he repeated.
As awful as any universe that involves Tony in Sam's office regularly sounds, Sam takes some satisfaction that at least it seems to discomfit *Tony* too. And hurt his knuckles. For that, at least, he has Wanda to thank. "As I said before. Terrifying alternate universe.
"It's a slightly more plausible explanation for lying than the first one, anyway. Did you suspect Steve of being controlled by the Skull, too? You lied to him about telling me, too.
"You asked me what I had a problem with, Tony, and your threats certainly aren't *denying* that you coerced me into signing. Under false pretenses. But we've been over that before, as you said. What do you want from me?"
"I didn't know --" he said. "When I made that prom. . .when I made that deal with Steve, I didn't know details, and when I found out. ..there wasn't -- I didn't want to go back to Steve and. . ."
Tony gritted his teeth and kept his eyes steady on Sam. When he had made the decision to hold back the information, and then to release it, he had known this was inevitable. You made a call, Stark, and maybe it was the wrong one.
"I fucked up, Sam." His eyes went back to the stupid clock again. "I'm sorry."
Reply
If you weren't going to make a man wait, convince him to get on your schedule.
Tony gave Wilson a small nod. He didn't step toward him. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything." Taking in the his from Redwing, Tony added, "I don't think your bird likes me."
Reply
"And don't worry, Redwing won't attack unless he's provoked."
Reply
He let the armor fall away and stood before Sam in casual civilian clothes. Without waiting for the other man, Tony walked toward the entrance to the stairwell. "Your office, then? I know it's not bugged."
Reply
"H'lo, Mrs. Johnson," he said to an old lady on the fourth floor, and "Hi, Dave," to a boy on the third. Both of them greeted Sam and stared at Tony Stark.
Sam's office was on the second floor and he opened the door for Tony. "Come on in."
Reply
He noted the wary looks from Wilson's neighbors, so different from the friendly smiles they gave Sam. Well, a well-dressed white man in this neighborhood was probably suspect by definition. Tony was less sure whether they knew him, how much the general public (as opposed to the segment that watched cable news obsessively) would recognize Tony, as opposed to Iron Man. He didn't know how much Sam's neighbors knew about his other profession either.
Stepping into the office, Tony reflected that he didn't actually know much about the work that Sam did here. Sure, the Maria Stark foundation had given him awards for it, but as for what it actually consisted of.
Tony looked around, "So -- the boy who was here before? One of your, ahh, youth-at-risk?" He was trying hard to sound interested, and at least somewhat knowledgeable.
Reply
"Tyler? Not really--mostly he just comes over to talk about birds. Don't worry, you weren't interrupting me with a client."
He sat down behind his desk. "Have a seat," he said to Tony, gesturing at the chairs his clients usually used. "Now...what was it that you wanted to talk about?"
Reply
"You've got a problem with the way I've handled things, I figured I'd let you say it to my face."
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Reply
He turned back to Sam. If I wanted you in Siberia do you really think I'd be looking for an excuse? If I ask you what you think, it's because I'd like to know."
Reply
Reply
He stopped, staring at the clock over by the window. It was an old white one with a black rim, the kind you saw in secondary school classrooms. It shouldn't have been there. Tony had bought a replacement for Sam as a gift -- one he thought was moderately priced, high quality wood, guaranteed to keep perfect time with hardly any maintenance. Sam's reception had been frosty, and when they'd gotten home, Steve had pointed out that Tony's "moderate" gift probably cost more than anything else in the office.
Obviously that hadn't happened in this world.
Now, Tony turned around and jabbed a fist into the wall. "Fucking Wanda," he said.
Reply
"What the hell, Stark?" He jumped up around--almost over--the desk to stand and stare from Tony to the wall and back again. Fortunately whatever was up with Tony's armor these days did not seem to affect his strength without it, so the wall was doing just fine. "Stop that, it'll disturb the neighbors."
Reply
Rubbing his sore knuckles into his palm, he said. "This conversation is getting a little confusing for me. I remember being here before, a lot more than I've actually been here before. Wanda," he repeated.
Reply
"It's a slightly more plausible explanation for lying than the first one, anyway. Did you suspect Steve of being controlled by the Skull, too? You lied to him about telling me, too.
"You asked me what I had a problem with, Tony, and your threats certainly aren't *denying* that you coerced me into signing. Under false pretenses. But we've been over that before, as you said. What do you want from me?"
Reply
Tony gritted his teeth and kept his eyes steady on Sam. When he had made the decision to hold back the information, and then to release it, he had known this was inevitable. You made a call, Stark, and maybe it was the wrong one.
"I fucked up, Sam." His eyes went back to the stupid clock again. "I'm sorry."
Reply
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