Tony had spent most of last week back in New York being: repeatedly punched in the arm and hugged (Jan), given disappointed looks and lectures about trusting his team to back him up (Steve), ruthlessly mocked for being a beautiful technological butterfly (Clint), and prodded and tested for science (Reed
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"Not moving," Tony called after him, ending an email to R&D about integrating FuturePharm employees. The ones not in jail or guilty of violating various ethics codes with their research.
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Steve returned with a small wheel of cheese.
...it was possible Steve really sucked at gifts.
"Here," he said. "There weren't a ton of things to choose from."
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Tony grinned anyway. Because people usually didn't even try to get him gifts. "So, what you're saying is that the place was a little cheesy?"
TONY NO.
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"Hey, Tony. Still holding up? No terrifying side effects?" Jessica checked as she walked in. "No sudden bursts of evil cackling?" Small talk could wait.
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So far.
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"Traitor."
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