On the Walls of the Day (1/3) Avengers/PG (Prelude to Wayfaring Stranger)
Title: I see the Roads all Ripe with Jewels
Series: The Avengers
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Twelve part series of a trilogy. Chapter I: Steve comes into 70 years backpay. He goes to the only man he knows who can help him.
The Saga Rogerson
Chapter I See the Roads all Ripe with Jewels
“I've spent too long away from home
Did all the things I could have done
Gone are the days of endless thrills”
-Going Home, Dan Auberach
Steve Rogers stared at the documents Fury had unceremoniously thrust into his hands.
“Agent Coulson was working on this for you. It just came through,” was all he said before leaving Steve to study the line of zeroes printed across the first page. After a moment’s hesitation, he folded the papers and stashed them in his jacket pocket. Steve wasn’t sure of the next step to take, but he knew someone who could point him in the right direction.
Within the hour, he stood knocking on the door of Stark Tower. What, he wondered, did proper etiquette call for when visiting a man whose home and business had been partly demolished in the recent alien attack?
“Captain America,” JARVIS intoned, the doors sliding open with a woosh. “Mr. Stark is on the top level. I recommend you take the stairs. The elevator is still out.”
“Sure. Steve is fine, by the way,” he muttered.
“Yes, sir.”
The climb would have exhausted a normal human, and Steve was a little surprised that Tony mustered the energy to climb the stairs everyday. Around floor 5, he remembered the Iron Man suit and chided himself.
At floor 10, he started to second-guess his visit.
At floor 25, he wondered when Tony had the time to hang pictures of himself and his creations in the stairwell. There were a lot of stylistic versions of the Iron Man doing heroic things. It reminded Steve of his embarrassing USO tours.
Between floors 30 and 35, he had to use a little dexterity to scale the missing steps. By the time he reached floor 36, he could hear strands of an upbeat musical number. By floor 38, he could start to make out the words.
“We’re marching to a faster pace/Look out, here comes the master race.
Springtime for Hitler and Germany…”
He would not ask about the song. He knew Tony well enough to know when he was being goaded. But the war had just been over a month and a half ago for him, and although it would seem America had moved on, Steve found he didn’t have it in him to regard it as a matter of levity.
It was easier, he supposed, to make fun of something when most of your friends hadn’t died in it.
He opened the door to the top floor. In the middle of the debris and collapsed ceiling was Tony Stark, lounging on his couch, sipping from a low-ball and holding a mug out for Steve.
“Care for a beer? You seem like a beer guy.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Steve said as he navigated piles of construction plastic and chunks of marble and granite.
“So, Cap, what brings you to my humble abode? Sorry for the mess. I’m renovating.” Tony blithely explained, gesturing around the destroyed room with a sweep if his hand.
“If this is a bad time…” Steve began.
“No, no. I was taking a break.”
“Good. In that case, Fury brought me something I thought you could help with.”
Tony made a face.
“It’s not another mission, is it?”
“No, nothing like that,” Steve promised, handing over the papers.
Tony settled back into his couch and unfolded the documents. Steve shifted his weight awkwardly. Tony spent a moment scanning the financial diatribe before a smile broke out on his face. He looked up at Steve.
“They backdated your pay?”
“Yeah. I guess Agent Coulson started putting in the paperwork the moment he realized I was alive. There are also some bonds that have appreciated. And I don’t know how, but he got me backdated at current pay. It’s all hazardous duty, so the money is non-taxable.”
Tony laughed in a way that reminded Steve of Howard, but Steve knew better than to say as much. Howard had always been less stoic, less prickly--but apparently that changed after Tony was born, and Steve’s initial hope of using Howard Stark’s memory as a bonding point between he and Tony quickly fizzled.
“I’m shit with finances, but I’ve got some killer lawyers. Pepper can help you, too. I see you had a fair amount in savings. Bet you never thought you’d come calling on them seventy years later!”
“No.” He’d made Peggy the primary beneficiary, but she’d never touched it and Steve didn’t know why. He wondered, guiltily, if it was because she’d hoped they’d find him one day, too.
And they had. It had just been two years too late.
Tony caught the pained expression on Steve’s face, and his expression softened slightly.
“Here, take a seat.” Tony swept the couch free of debris, dust and little clunks of stone hitting the floor with a clatter. Steve took the proffered seat, settling in a little uneasily.
“I don’t know what to do with all this money,” Steve admitted, still stunned by the fact his collected finances amassed to over a million dollars. Money had meant a lot more when he was a teen and there wasn’t much of it. Once he’d entered the service, though, the Army had done a good job of taking care of him. Besides, money didn’t matter when friends were dying and he was running missions and hadn’t been sure if he’d make it to the next day.
One of the reasons he’d not signed Agent Coulson’s cards right away was because looking at them had reminded him too closely of the Picture of Dorian Gray--as if somehow the images had retained his youth for all these years.
It was a silly comparison, of course. Gray’s portrait had aged and grown foul. The cards Coulson had called vintage were pictures he’d clearly remembered taking. Rip Van Winkle was a more apt fictional figure.
“I’ll get my people to take care of you,” Tony offered, breaking Steve from his reverie. He clapped Steve on the back. “Welcome to the one percent.”
“I don’t understand that reference.”
Tony laughed again.
“We’ve got to get you sped up on pop culture and history since you took your nap.”
Sometimes, Steve wasn’t sure he cared to know all the references that flew over his head. The world had gotten a lot stranger and cruder since he went away.
“JARVIS,” Tony called.
“Sir.”
“Get this info to Pepper and my legal team and let’s get the Captain settled in with some style. Have you thought about where you’d like you dream home? Malibu? You could be my neighbor. Miami! Oh, or maybe Aspen. No, too much snow. Probably too soon, am I right?”
“I don’t think I need a dream house,” Steve hedged.
“Well, where do you think you’re going to live? You know, there will be downtime. Like now! Where’s SHIELD got you?”
“The BOQ.”
“No!” Tony said adamantly. “Unacceptable!”
“It’s not that bad,” Steve protested. He rather liked how they’d tried to date it for him.
“No. No, no, no.” Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re staying here until we get you situated.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Are you serious? I’ve got forty floors. There’s room to spare. JARVIS! Pull up Back to the Future.” Tony talked over Steve’s objections. “Your education starts now!”
The lights (what few of them worked) dimmed, and a huge screen unfolded from the ceiling.
“I think you’ll enjoy this film.” Tony grinned. “Might relate to it on some level.”
A/N
First, things mostest to the bestest beta editor ever, teh_helenables of whom without this would be shit.
BOQ stands for Bachelor Officer’s Quarters
This chapter actually intended to be a stand alone. I was musing with my husband what Steve’s backpay must be like. Then it went crazy, and I’ve got a 30k story and a trilogy when all is said and done.
I went back and did the math and because I’m lazy, I decided to backdate him at today’s rates and decided hey, that’s what Clauson would do. The original amount amassed to just over a half a million. However, I imagine he’d have some of the same bonds he’d campaigned for put in his account and that, plus his savings, would’ve appreciated a hell of a lot.)
Hazard pay is awarded to anyone in a wartime zone. Technically, I believe only a certain amount is non-taxable. (For civilians, it’s the first 80 k. I don’t know what it would be for military, as none of us ever made enough to cap out and I didn’t exactly ask my CO. But I’m *pretty* certain that for military, it’s never taxable. But I digress. That’s probably more than you wanted to know about military pay!) Regardless, this is my thinking behind none of it being taxable once Steve comes calling.
Anyway, one thing lead to another, as you’ll see soon enough! The next chapter is about Steve and JARVIS. He’s got to get acquainted with everybody before he offs and disappears with Loki.
HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS.
Series: The Avengers
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Twelve part series of a trilogy. Chapter I: Steve comes into 70 years backpay. He goes to the only man he knows who can help him.
The Saga Rogerson
Chapter I See the Roads all Ripe with Jewels
“I've spent too long away from home
Did all the things I could have done
Gone are the days of endless thrills”
-Going Home, Dan Auberach
Steve Rogers stared at the documents Fury had unceremoniously thrust into his hands.
“Agent Coulson was working on this for you. It just came through,” was all he said before leaving Steve to study the line of zeroes printed across the first page. After a moment’s hesitation, he folded the papers and stashed them in his jacket pocket. Steve wasn’t sure of the next step to take, but he knew someone who could point him in the right direction.
Within the hour, he stood knocking on the door of Stark Tower. What, he wondered, did proper etiquette call for when visiting a man whose home and business had been partly demolished in the recent alien attack?
“Captain America,” JARVIS intoned, the doors sliding open with a woosh. “Mr. Stark is on the top level. I recommend you take the stairs. The elevator is still out.”
“Sure. Steve is fine, by the way,” he muttered.
“Yes, sir.”
The climb would have exhausted a normal human, and Steve was a little surprised that Tony mustered the energy to climb the stairs everyday. Around floor 5, he remembered the Iron Man suit and chided himself.
At floor 10, he started to second-guess his visit.
At floor 25, he wondered when Tony had the time to hang pictures of himself and his creations in the stairwell. There were a lot of stylistic versions of the Iron Man doing heroic things. It reminded Steve of his embarrassing USO tours.
Between floors 30 and 35, he had to use a little dexterity to scale the missing steps. By the time he reached floor 36, he could hear strands of an upbeat musical number. By floor 38, he could start to make out the words.
“We’re marching to a faster pace/Look out, here comes the master race.
Springtime for Hitler and Germany…”
He would not ask about the song. He knew Tony well enough to know when he was being goaded. But the war had just been over a month and a half ago for him, and although it would seem America had moved on, Steve found he didn’t have it in him to regard it as a matter of levity.
It was easier, he supposed, to make fun of something when most of your friends hadn’t died in it.
He opened the door to the top floor. In the middle of the debris and collapsed ceiling was Tony Stark, lounging on his couch, sipping from a low-ball and holding a mug out for Steve.
“Care for a beer? You seem like a beer guy.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Steve said as he navigated piles of construction plastic and chunks of marble and granite.
“So, Cap, what brings you to my humble abode? Sorry for the mess. I’m renovating.” Tony blithely explained, gesturing around the destroyed room with a sweep if his hand.
“If this is a bad time…” Steve began.
“No, no. I was taking a break.”
“Good. In that case, Fury brought me something I thought you could help with.”
Tony made a face.
“It’s not another mission, is it?”
“No, nothing like that,” Steve promised, handing over the papers.
Tony settled back into his couch and unfolded the documents. Steve shifted his weight awkwardly. Tony spent a moment scanning the financial diatribe before a smile broke out on his face. He looked up at Steve.
“They backdated your pay?”
“Yeah. I guess Agent Coulson started putting in the paperwork the moment he realized I was alive. There are also some bonds that have appreciated. And I don’t know how, but he got me backdated at current pay. It’s all hazardous duty, so the money is non-taxable.”
Tony laughed in a way that reminded Steve of Howard, but Steve knew better than to say as much. Howard had always been less stoic, less prickly--but apparently that changed after Tony was born, and Steve’s initial hope of using Howard Stark’s memory as a bonding point between he and Tony quickly fizzled.
“I’m shit with finances, but I’ve got some killer lawyers. Pepper can help you, too. I see you had a fair amount in savings. Bet you never thought you’d come calling on them seventy years later!”
“No.” He’d made Peggy the primary beneficiary, but she’d never touched it and Steve didn’t know why. He wondered, guiltily, if it was because she’d hoped they’d find him one day, too.
And they had. It had just been two years too late.
Tony caught the pained expression on Steve’s face, and his expression softened slightly.
“Here, take a seat.” Tony swept the couch free of debris, dust and little clunks of stone hitting the floor with a clatter. Steve took the proffered seat, settling in a little uneasily.
“I don’t know what to do with all this money,” Steve admitted, still stunned by the fact his collected finances amassed to over a million dollars. Money had meant a lot more when he was a teen and there wasn’t much of it. Once he’d entered the service, though, the Army had done a good job of taking care of him. Besides, money didn’t matter when friends were dying and he was running missions and hadn’t been sure if he’d make it to the next day.
One of the reasons he’d not signed Agent Coulson’s cards right away was because looking at them had reminded him too closely of the Picture of Dorian Gray--as if somehow the images had retained his youth for all these years.
It was a silly comparison, of course. Gray’s portrait had aged and grown foul. The cards Coulson had called vintage were pictures he’d clearly remembered taking. Rip Van Winkle was a more apt fictional figure.
“I’ll get my people to take care of you,” Tony offered, breaking Steve from his reverie. He clapped Steve on the back. “Welcome to the one percent.”
“I don’t understand that reference.”
Tony laughed again.
“We’ve got to get you sped up on pop culture and history since you took your nap.”
Sometimes, Steve wasn’t sure he cared to know all the references that flew over his head. The world had gotten a lot stranger and cruder since he went away.
“JARVIS,” Tony called.
“Sir.”
“Get this info to Pepper and my legal team and let’s get the Captain settled in with some style. Have you thought about where you’d like you dream home? Malibu? You could be my neighbor. Miami! Oh, or maybe Aspen. No, too much snow. Probably too soon, am I right?”
“I don’t think I need a dream house,” Steve hedged.
“Well, where do you think you’re going to live? You know, there will be downtime. Like now! Where’s SHIELD got you?”
“The BOQ.”
“No!” Tony said adamantly. “Unacceptable!”
“It’s not that bad,” Steve protested. He rather liked how they’d tried to date it for him.
“No. No, no, no.” Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re staying here until we get you situated.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Are you serious? I’ve got forty floors. There’s room to spare. JARVIS! Pull up Back to the Future.” Tony talked over Steve’s objections. “Your education starts now!”
The lights (what few of them worked) dimmed, and a huge screen unfolded from the ceiling.
“I think you’ll enjoy this film.” Tony grinned. “Might relate to it on some level.”
A/N
First, things mostest to the bestest beta editor ever, teh_helenables of whom without this would be shit.
BOQ stands for Bachelor Officer’s Quarters
This chapter actually intended to be a stand alone. I was musing with my husband what Steve’s backpay must be like. Then it went crazy, and I’ve got a 30k story and a trilogy when all is said and done.
I went back and did the math and because I’m lazy, I decided to backdate him at today’s rates and decided hey, that’s what Clauson would do. The original amount amassed to just over a half a million. However, I imagine he’d have some of the same bonds he’d campaigned for put in his account and that, plus his savings, would’ve appreciated a hell of a lot.)
Hazard pay is awarded to anyone in a wartime zone. Technically, I believe only a certain amount is non-taxable. (For civilians, it’s the first 80 k. I don’t know what it would be for military, as none of us ever made enough to cap out and I didn’t exactly ask my CO. But I’m *pretty* certain that for military, it’s never taxable. But I digress. That’s probably more than you wanted to know about military pay!) Regardless, this is my thinking behind none of it being taxable once Steve comes calling.
Anyway, one thing lead to another, as you’ll see soon enough! The next chapter is about Steve and JARVIS. He’s got to get acquainted with everybody before he offs and disappears with Loki.
HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS.