Happy Birthday svmadelyn!
I've been missing your excellent cracktastic Tony/Steve fic posts, and you've gotten me hooked, so I shall attempt to show my appreciation in a way that will hopefully not crash and burn like, well, anything off of a HammerTech assembly line. *crosses fingers* ...And awaaaaaay we go!
Title: ...On Which Earth?
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Marvel Movie!Verse
Pairing: Toni/Stephanie, Tony Stark+Steve Rogers
Rating: R
Spoilers: ...For general canon where the writers secretly ship them?
Word count: 2300+
Summary: Apparently Stark is not quite the unique little snowflake that he thought he was. And then there is Super Soldier mud wrestling. (Well, almost. The floor was pretty dirty, though.)
Warnings: Unbeta'd. Rating for "safety", because some people are weird about stuff like that, and girls have cooties, don'tcha know? *rolls eyes*
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
AN: I stole and warped the line "I am a very pretty man" from a SV Clex fic somewhere RivkaT's "Switch: A Comedy of Terrors". (It seemed appropriate.) (I swear that fic only gets better with time.) I'll refind it and post the link here at some point. That was easy :)
~*~*~*~*~*~
Tony had had a hard day, and he deserved a break.
He'd locked up the Iron Man suit and gone out for a drink because, damnit, he deserved a good drink now and again, and he could be responsible about it. As long as he made sure he didn't have access to his more-advanced tech while he was drunk, because Pepper and Rhodey would kill him if he ever did that again after the last time he did that on his birthday. (That had been a good party, though.) He could be responsible. He was Mr. Responsible. He'd show Mr. Eyepatch, Mr. Hardass, Mr. Iron-Man-Can-Be-An-Avenger-But-We-Don't-Want-You-Tony-Stark.
Jerk.
--Oh, and Coulson, too. He'd show Agent Coulson, too. And maybe Romanoff, or whatever she was calling herself this week. He bet he could drink her under the table without getting drunk. He'd gladly take that bet. Either way, everybody wins!
He felt fury at Fury, and then smirked at the rhyme.
Well, of the two of them, only one was the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, and it wasn't the other guy.
Unfortunately, the other guy had decided that Tony had needed a babysitter, and that Captain America was the man for the job.
Tony leaned back against the bar of the old 1940's style bar and sighed into his water. He missed the good old days with Pepper.
But why did it have to be Steve? If it had been Thor, there would have been mead. And girls. And more mead. Good ol' Thor. His good buddy Thor, who knew how to have a good time.
Oh that's right -- it was Steve because Fury didn't like Stark.
There were people in the corner playing darts. Darts. This was ludicrous. Tony was pretty sure that any minute they'd break out the hard stuff, like milk and cookies, and then the party would really get started.
...Ok, now he was just being mean, because he could see people with some serious hard liquor, not just watered-down beer. The problem wasn't the run down, cigar-smoke-filled dive, or even the bartender. It was that Steve Golden-Boy Rogers didn't want Tony drinking hard liquor, because apparently someone had told him that Tony was an alcoholic or something crazy like that -- really, was it so wrong for him to enjoy his alcohol? -- and Steve knew the bartender, and the bartender listened to Steve when Steve said "Only water," because the bartender wasn't about to risk the trouble Captain America would bring down on his fine seedy establishment if he didn't.
Luckily, he had brought his own, shall we say, homemade seasoning, along for the ride and had been liberally sneaking the clear liquid into his water glass ever since Steve had stormed the place and Tony had laid siege to the wetbar. And he poured another swallow in whenever Soldier Boy turned his back. Or stood up straight and looked away. Or frowned at the dartboard. Or frowned at Tony.
Really, it was a wonder that his glass didn't have less water in it than the alcohol flask itself, at this point.
There was a calculation for that, and it had something to do with humidity. He might have to get back to himself on that, though, because there were far more important things to do just then.
Like talk to the lovely brunette who had just trotted up to the bar next to him.
Tony gave her his best Stark smile.
"Hey there, handsome, going somewhere?"
"Mmm, now, I think the question is, are you going somewhere? Because, I have to admit this," and Tony turned to face her, leaning casually and letting his mouth go on talking without his brain in the loop, "I'm sure that wherever you are going is someplace I would also like to go. Because you seem like a gal--girl--woman-- lovely lady who is going places, and those places are going to be nice because you will be there." He paused and leaned in a little bit. "I have to apologize about the 'gal' thing, though, I have a friend who is a very bad influence who I have to spend these long boring meetings with sometimes and he talks like that all the time and, really, you would not believe how that kind of language can just sink right into your brain and hide there until it pops out when you least expect it."
"Sounds horrible," she said with a laughing smile.
"It's a curse. I'm cursed," Tony replied, smiling back and waving his shotglass in an expansive gesture. "Really, I'm doomed. I may need some proper professional help. Or just a friend, you know? Maybe you could help me -- say something amazing. Anything, really. I'm sure anything you say would help, even just a little," he flirted.
The woman smiled, reached out, and plucked his glass from his fingers, and took a long draught herself, and Tony's eyes widened as she did a very interesting sexy thing with her lips and tongue as she did it. Damn, but he needed to learn how to do that, preferably from her in a very hands-on lesson!
"TONY!" came a yell from the doorway.
Tony's head whipped up towards the door in automatic reaction to anyone yelling his name in a rage-filled revenge-seeking fashion, as did the brunette. The blonde bombshell stomped over, looking rather pissed.
"She did it!" Tony said, pointing to the brunette. When she glanced up at him, he brought his hands up and shrugged with an apologetic look, and when the blonde's eyes then narrowed in a glare meant just for him, his eyes widened a bit as he suddenly got a much better read on the situation, and he raised both his hands towards her, palms outward, and backed up a step. "Ah, I was just having a nice chat with your girlfriend, here, and, ah, she's actually quite the intellectual really--"
He still got slapped. Ow.
...Ending up on the floor was new, though.
He blinked and shook his head slightly to see if it rattled, then glanced upwards dazedly. He only had enough time for his eyes to refocus and widen as he saw the army boot headed for his face.
And then it wasn't as 240 pounds of Super Soldier tackled the woman attached to the boot in a flying leap that had originated from across the room.
Maybe having a babysitter cum bodyguard along on his bar trawls wasn't such a bad idea after all. When he wasn't the one picking the establishments he got to frequent, anyway. There generally weren't bar brawls at the places he usually frequented -- they had bouncers for that. Yet another point he could hold in his favor the next time Steve tried to convince him to go to a "real" bar with him, so he wouldn't feel so much like he had an obligation to cater to the man-out-of-time who was still a virgin. He shook his head again. Nope, still no rattling.
"What just happened?" he asked the brunette, looking up at her as he shifted to a more comfortable seated position on the floor.
"Your boyfriend took exception to my girlfriend going all alpha female on your sorry but very, very fine ass, apparently," she smirked, taking another swallow from his glass. "She is so hot when she's jealous," she said, eyes blazing as she intently watched the two of them go at it, wrestling on the floor.
"She is?" Tony was a bit amazed at what he was seeing. He let the 'boyfriend' comment slip right by, thinking it sarcasm, and drunkenly focused on the fight instead -- it was mesmerizing, watching them. He tilted his head sideways a bit to see if that helped. It was a little like a train wreck, or one of those Magic Eye puzzles. Nobody should be able to hold their own with Rogers like that -- well, ok, except maybe Banner when he was doing his rage thing, or Thor if Loki tricked him into accidentally being evil again -- and yet... there she was, rolling to her feet and throwing another punch before tackling him again.
"Oh yeah, just you wait," she grinned at him, and Tony felt a little star-struck breathless for a moment.
"Ok, sure," he said. Not like he had anywhere else to be.
They both watched the two of them go at it for a bit as the other patrons dove for cover and fled the premises. It looked like the blonde was pretty durable. With a lot of endurance. And very limber. Damn, but he would add a threesome with those two up near the top of his Christmas list. Too bad the blonde didn't seem like the sharing type.
They rolled around the floor, shredding wooden furniture and tearing up the floor as they went.
Up until two hardasses kicked open the door and bellowed, "Soldier, ATTENTION!"
Rogers and the blonde woman would have made Pavlov proud -- they both immediately let go of each other, rolled to their feet, and popped upright to rigid attention.
Tony looked past them to the two hardasses at the door, one of whom he recognized, and the other of whom he... recognized.
Tony cracked up.
"Who's the laughing hyena?" the black woman with the eyepatch asked Fury. Then, after a half-second's once-over: "No, wait, don't tell me -- I already wish I didn't know. At ease, soldier," she addressed the very well-built blonde woman.
"Yours causes trouble, too?" Fury stated evenly.
"Mayhem wherever she goes. They should just replace the word in the dictionary with her name. Be easier," she drawled. "Rogers!" she turned and barked out, "Grab Stark and move out." She turned on her heel and walked out the hole in the wall where the door used to be.
"What?" Steve said, glancing at Fury in confusion, as the blonde woman stalked over towards the brunette.
"Not you, Captain. Her." Fury nodded towards the two women.
"Damnit Toni, why do you always do this?!"
"Not always, I just like the pretty ones, and apparently I am a very pretty man," she said, glancing down and fluttering her eyelashes at Tony. He stared up at her, then perked up and sat up straight. This was getting good!
The blonde all but growled, grabbed Tony-- Toni?-- Toni's chin with one hand and her bicep with the other, pulled her towards her in one smooth jerk, and proceeded to perform what looked like an attempt to give a medical checkup down the inside of her throat with her tongue. And something that was illegal in several states, or ought to be, with her knee and--
Tony just stared, captivated, eyes wide.
Then the blonde disengaged roughly, leaving the brunette panting. "You are in so much trouble," she said huskily, with no small amount of righteous anger and lust.
"Steph-- Stephanie, I was just--"
"Save the excuses for Fury," Stephanie shot back, "You're coming with me right now, Stark."
"I--"
And Stephanie Rogers proceeded to toss Toni Stark over one shoulder and cart her out the door.
Toni Stark didn't really seem to have much of a problem with that, judging from the shit-eating grin she had plastered across her face. She gave Tony a little wave good-bye and a blown kiss.
Steve stared out the door after them. "Sir...?" he said to Fury, shakily.
"Richards," Fury stated, rolling his eye. "Man needs to spend more time with his wife and less time mucking about with the multiverse. Same goes for their Richards and her husband," he ended, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Tony started to laugh again, but stifled it at Nick Fury's glare.
"That was just..." Steve cast about for the proper word.
"Hot?" Tony offered.
"What?? No--!"
"Sexy? Very sexy? Cute? Elecrifying?" Tony said, getting a bigger and bigger grin as he kept cutting Steve off.
"WEIRD!" Steve managed to finally get in edgewise.
"...Really? Because it seemed hot to me. Two really incredibly gorgeous women making out with each other? Is hot. --And don't tell me that it wasn't hot back in the 40's, either, I'll know you're lying, I have reel-to-reels that say otherwise," Tony chided, standing up slowly and grinning.
"They were us! Female us--es. Making out! How is that not weird?!" Rogers said, looking a little freaked out.
"Do I really need to explain--?"
"She was you! And flirting with you!"
"And apparently I am a very pretty woman," he said, unconsciously mirroring what his alter-sex had said earlier.
Captain America stared at him for a moment, the parallel not lost on him, as he was stone-cold sober. Then he scrubbed his face with his hands and looked like he wanted to scrub his brain and his eyes out with soap.
"Captain, get him home in one piece and taken care of, will you?" Fury said. "I have better things to do than listen to the two of you argue about your mirror-universe doppelganger quantum-twin whatsits," and he strode out as well.
Captain America turned to Tony Stark and put his hands on his hips.
"You do that too often and your shoulders will freeze that way," Tony teased.
"Come on," The Captain said, frowning, as he took an arm to 'help' Tony walk.
"Last time I let you pick a bar," Tony said, shrugging away before reaching for his wallet and tossing a handful of large bills on the bar counter. He figured that ought to be enough to pay for the mess. Maybe they'd have enough left over to tear down the place and rebuild it into something that wasn't the deranged ugly cousin to a rathole.
"...You know," Tony added contemplatively, swaying as Steve led him out of the not-so-fine establishment, plaster falling from the ceiling, "You have really blue eyes. They're kind of pretty."
Steve gave him a long sideways glance. "You're drunk."
"Yes. Yes I am. I am also Iron Man, and privatized world peace. Nice to meet you," he smiled. "Want to come home with me? I have a really nice bed."
Steve rolled his eyes and sighed.
THE END(?)