Fic: Welcome to Stark Industries
A silly ficlet that's been languishing in my WIP folder forever, figured I should finally post it.
Author: mclittlebitch
Title: Welcome to Stark Industries (Don’t Bang The Boss)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
a/n: Thank you to [COMPANY NAME REDACTED] for what is possibly the most boring introduction packet in the history of boring introduction packets; Microsoft Word for the find-replace function; and dotfic for constant encouragement despite my plots against her. Happy extremely belated birthday, sweetie.
Other than you, our employees, Stark Industries’ reputation is our most valuable asset. To protect our credibility and reputation, you must diligently comply with the various policies outlined below and take every precaution to avoid banging Tony Stark or any appearance of banging Tony Stark.
In accordance with Stark Industries’ policy, you are prohibited from revealing to anyone (including family members, friends and other Stark Industries employees not involved in banging Tony Stark) any banging of Tony Stark. You, however, may discuss the banging of Tony Stark (i) with other Stark Industries employees, consultants and agents involved in that banging of Tony Stark or who would otherwise have input on the matter, (ii) in response to any valid request for information regarding banging Tony Stark contained in a subpoena, court order or as otherwise required by applicable law or by any judicial, legislative or regulatory authority…
***
I got sent it too, you know. Everyone does after the first time. Then the invite landed in my inbox; I thought it was just another joke. Something to razz the new kid.
But it turns out they were serious. And that half the guys in the department go to the meetings. It’s more of a social thing than anything else. Everybody argues about gaming, about Wii vs. PS3, about whether Red Sonja could kick Xena’s ass. Every once in a while, though, the conversation turns to the reason the club was formed: the fact that most of us would totally go gay for Tony Stark.
Not even in a hero-worship way! He was completely awesome before the whole super suit, saving the world thing. I’d had a poster of the guy in my dorm room; he’d inspired my interest in the practical applications of robotics in the first place. At MIT the man was a god even before you factored in the ladies, the power, and having all the best toys for big boys.
None of that compared to getting a Stark Industries job and actually meeting the guy. Slick suit, sunglasses, total babe Miss Potts following him around in those dominatrix heels. Might as well have been wearing a sign that said “I am bored because I am smarter than you.” Which is justified. Everyone in R&D knows that we get the stuff he thinks is too lame to bother with, or got tired of working on and then the fun of reverse-engineering something three years ahead of the curve starts. I picked up everybody else’s habit of yelling “Tony Stark built it in a cave! From scraps!” whenever a problem seemed impossible before I learned where it came from, and maybe it’s disrespectful to mock the dead, but that is a great line.
Sorry, I got sidetracked there. Anyway, I’d been working at SI for a month or so, and Stark’d finally come to check out the latest project. My supervisor was in the middle of explaining our progress in his usual plodding way when I heard:
“You. New guy. He’s new, right, Potts?”
I managed to stutter out that I was before Miss Potts could answer. He waved me over and demanded I continue the explanation “in a way that won’t make me consider ritual suicide.”
Explain something I’d barely been allowed to work on to the greatest genius the world has ever seen? Wow. No pressure. I guess I was doing a good job, though, because suddenly he was on. Total white-hot focus. Stripped off the suit jacket and tie (and I do mean stripped) rolled up his sleeves, ran his hands all over the prototype like it was gonna give him a lapdance. There’s porn less dirty than Tony Stark checking valve fittings.
Didn’t help that whenever I had to stop to think he’d give me this smirk and say stuff like “Is this your first time? You’re doing great. Now keep going.” It wasn’t even like he meant anything by it! I checked later with the rest of the club; he just talks like he’s considering deflowering you over the workbench all the time.
Between the nerves, being proud I hadn’t driven my boss to despair, and the fact said boss was phrasing everything like I was giving him a blowjob instead of a walk-through, my adrenalin levels were pretty high. And that’s where the three mugs of coffee and the air compressor come into it…
Anyway, it could have gone worse. And hey, as long as you didn’t set him on fire or anything Mr. Stark won’t care. It’s not like you have to tell your girlfriend. You should come to the club, we meet every second Tuesday. We have a Ladies’ Auxiliary; it’s fun to watch Marie make faces when Sonja goes on her “tool of the patriarchy” rant. I’ll bring you coffee for a month if you laugh like Beavis and say “you said tool” when she really gets going.
Author: mclittlebitch
Title: Welcome to Stark Industries (Don’t Bang The Boss)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
a/n: Thank you to [COMPANY NAME REDACTED] for what is possibly the most boring introduction packet in the history of boring introduction packets; Microsoft Word for the find-replace function; and dotfic for constant encouragement despite my plots against her. Happy extremely belated birthday, sweetie.
Other than you, our employees, Stark Industries’ reputation is our most valuable asset. To protect our credibility and reputation, you must diligently comply with the various policies outlined below and take every precaution to avoid banging Tony Stark or any appearance of banging Tony Stark.
In accordance with Stark Industries’ policy, you are prohibited from revealing to anyone (including family members, friends and other Stark Industries employees not involved in banging Tony Stark) any banging of Tony Stark. You, however, may discuss the banging of Tony Stark (i) with other Stark Industries employees, consultants and agents involved in that banging of Tony Stark or who would otherwise have input on the matter, (ii) in response to any valid request for information regarding banging Tony Stark contained in a subpoena, court order or as otherwise required by applicable law or by any judicial, legislative or regulatory authority…
***
I got sent it too, you know. Everyone does after the first time. Then the invite landed in my inbox; I thought it was just another joke. Something to razz the new kid.
But it turns out they were serious. And that half the guys in the department go to the meetings. It’s more of a social thing than anything else. Everybody argues about gaming, about Wii vs. PS3, about whether Red Sonja could kick Xena’s ass. Every once in a while, though, the conversation turns to the reason the club was formed: the fact that most of us would totally go gay for Tony Stark.
Not even in a hero-worship way! He was completely awesome before the whole super suit, saving the world thing. I’d had a poster of the guy in my dorm room; he’d inspired my interest in the practical applications of robotics in the first place. At MIT the man was a god even before you factored in the ladies, the power, and having all the best toys for big boys.
None of that compared to getting a Stark Industries job and actually meeting the guy. Slick suit, sunglasses, total babe Miss Potts following him around in those dominatrix heels. Might as well have been wearing a sign that said “I am bored because I am smarter than you.” Which is justified. Everyone in R&D knows that we get the stuff he thinks is too lame to bother with, or got tired of working on and then the fun of reverse-engineering something three years ahead of the curve starts. I picked up everybody else’s habit of yelling “Tony Stark built it in a cave! From scraps!” whenever a problem seemed impossible before I learned where it came from, and maybe it’s disrespectful to mock the dead, but that is a great line.
Sorry, I got sidetracked there. Anyway, I’d been working at SI for a month or so, and Stark’d finally come to check out the latest project. My supervisor was in the middle of explaining our progress in his usual plodding way when I heard:
“You. New guy. He’s new, right, Potts?”
I managed to stutter out that I was before Miss Potts could answer. He waved me over and demanded I continue the explanation “in a way that won’t make me consider ritual suicide.”
Explain something I’d barely been allowed to work on to the greatest genius the world has ever seen? Wow. No pressure. I guess I was doing a good job, though, because suddenly he was on. Total white-hot focus. Stripped off the suit jacket and tie (and I do mean stripped) rolled up his sleeves, ran his hands all over the prototype like it was gonna give him a lapdance. There’s porn less dirty than Tony Stark checking valve fittings.
Didn’t help that whenever I had to stop to think he’d give me this smirk and say stuff like “Is this your first time? You’re doing great. Now keep going.” It wasn’t even like he meant anything by it! I checked later with the rest of the club; he just talks like he’s considering deflowering you over the workbench all the time.
Between the nerves, being proud I hadn’t driven my boss to despair, and the fact said boss was phrasing everything like I was giving him a blowjob instead of a walk-through, my adrenalin levels were pretty high. And that’s where the three mugs of coffee and the air compressor come into it…
Anyway, it could have gone worse. And hey, as long as you didn’t set him on fire or anything Mr. Stark won’t care. It’s not like you have to tell your girlfriend. You should come to the club, we meet every second Tuesday. We have a Ladies’ Auxiliary; it’s fun to watch Marie make faces when Sonja goes on her “tool of the patriarchy” rant. I’ll bring you coffee for a month if you laugh like Beavis and say “you said tool” when she really gets going.