Pleased to meet you, and I hope you guess my name

[amvrogers]

Who: Tony Stark/Iron Man, Steve Rogers/Captain America
What: A personal query
Where: Steve's place, eventually

Comments

[amvstark]

Jarvis had said, coolly, "Sir, you have an incoming call," and Tony, knee-deep in tweaking wires and fine-tuning repulsor burn excess, had replied, "Later, Jarvis."

Now, looking at the flashing images of a burnt and destroyed NYU lecture hall on almost every channel, he wished he'd looked over at his buzzing cell phone, or at least asked Jarvis who it had been. The cell rested on his hand, the number of messages in his voicemail he cared about narrowed down to one, and he'd listened to it once before pressing his thumb on the send button.

He managed to keep the note of alarm from his voice as the dial tone clicked off. "Steve, they're paying you to teach art, not destroy college property."

[amvrogers]

"Well, you know how modern art is," Steve sighed, half-hearted. Back at his apartment, now, a few hours after the incident, picking through his wardrobe with a towel around his waist. "It goes without saying that I'm fired."

His hand paused over the familiar blue leather of his costume, still hanging there in the back of the closet. No better off for the explosion that should have killed him, much less for the time it had spent in the ice; falling to pieces beneath his fingers.

"Looks like my cozy middle class existence is disintegrating, Tony. All because some guy named Lex Luthor wanted to get in touch with me. Must've been real desperate, or real crazy. He sent those robots after me. Ever heard of him?"

[amvstark]

"He's bad news," Tony said immediately, beginning to pace. "Don't trust whatever he told you. It's probably a lie."

Lex had always possessed a certain flair for dramatics, but seriously, this was up and over the top. He must have wanted to make a point that Steve wouldn't soon forget -- what point, and why? Tony's hackles were raised, on hyper-alert; the phone was clenched in his hand. None of this could possibly end in rainbows.

[amvrogers]

"He said that he was offering me a chance to go back in time," Steve continued, finding a leather jacket that looked passable, and tossing it onto the bed along with a shirt. "Funny way of doing it..."

[amvstark]

It was around nine PM when the jet landed; again Tony found himself buffeted by the hive mind of New York, though less than tolerant of its idiosyncrasies in his current mood. Having made a habit of visiting Steve in the weeks prior, he knew exactly where he was going and how to get there.

Now that he was literally feet away from the issue, he felt the acidic tang of anger return. He was wound tight, barely in check. If Steve wasn't there -- if he had left or contacted Lex or done anything stupid --

He pounded on the apartment door.

[amvrogers]

It was Tony. Of course it would be. It had been eight hours since their talk on the phone, and in those eight hours Steve had decided what he would do; eight hours was more than enough for Tony to jet over, he calculated coolly.

Steve strapped his shield onto his back with a few fluid, controlled motions, and grabbed his rucksack before answering the door.

[amvstark]

"What are you doing?" Tony said, taking in Steve's appearance with cold eyes. He was not as tall as Steve, and not nearly as built, but he positioned himself in the door frame as if to block it.

[amvrogers]

"I don't want to have to hurt you," was all he said, and all he had to say.