(no subject)
So Jesse (Major-mun) has been begging me to write crack!fic of Tony/Rip/Major for months now.
I wrote this to shut him up.
NSFW and a ruination of everything canon.
"...Und zhen ve can attack at zer left flank here."
Rip's finger traced the map of the City of Glass, spread out over the island table in Tony Stark's kitchen. It was nearly four in the morning; a late night for all three of the people sitting around amidst cups of coffee.
The battle was scheduled for tomorrow; two of the faces showed appropriate levels of anxiety and stress, worn out from days of meticulous planning and exhausting training. Rip had shed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves, baking under the ceiling light and wishing fondly for the soft cushions of her coffin upstairs. Tony, too, looked tired; weeks of keeping up a regulated sleeping schedule for the vampire had caused him to get used to those full eight hours of rest. Now dark bags tugged under his eyes, and he closed them, running a hand over his face.
The Major, on the other hand, hadn't stopped looking delighted since their meeting had begun five hours ago.
"A cunning strategy, Huntress!" the fat little man crowed from the chair he sat in, Bended just slightly above the height of the other two. "But we cannot prepare for every eventuality, now can we? That is the true beauty of war; its utter unpredictability! Do I know what my enemies will do? I can make very good guesses, but we will not know for sure until we are pounding at the very gates of Hell, ready to march into the unknown!"
Most of the five hour meeting had been taken up with short speeches exactly like this one.
Rip nodded, too exhausted to bring herself to be further annoyed with her former commander, and brought her hand to her mouth to yawn again. Tony, watching this, reached out and took Rip's wrist in his hand, gently pulling her hand away from her mouth.
"I think that's enough for tonight," he said, giving the vampire a meaningful look. "You can't fight tomorrow if you're going to fall asleep in the middle of the battle." He stood up, and Rip reluctantly stood with him, taking her hand back with only the vaguest look of irritation.
"Ahh, you may be right," clucked the Major, disappointed. "Very well. Off to bed, the both of you! And I will see you bright and early, when our enemies will run screaming, when we will paint the city of glass from purple to red." He dropped down from the chair, making to leave the room. Tony turned and walked to the other exit, heading up the stairs with Rip close behind.
"You do not need to mozher me," the ex-Nazi snarked from behind Tony, "All of zhis running around, making sure I get my rest: it is unnecessary, und it is insulting."
"Sorry," answered Tony on automatic, and pushed open the door to Rip's room, eyeing the coffin. "Uh....yeah. Sweet dreams, and all that."
Rip started to go in, walking past Tony, but paused before she reached her coffin and turned back around.
"Ve could disappear tomorrow." She stated, point blank. "Be unmade. Zhis could be our last night in existence."
Tony's face was blank, expressionless, as he looked away hurriedly. "....well. Yes, I mean...that could...you don't know for-"
He was cut off, as Rip walked back over to him and turned his face towards her to kiss him. Not protesting in the least, Tony gladly accepted this sudden rush of affection, placing his hands gently on either side of Rip's face and kissing her back.
The two remained like that at the doorway for a few minutes, before RIp at last broke away and took Tony's hand, leading him over to her coffin. She laid down in it on her back, wrapping her hands around his neck and bringing him in closer. Careful not to crowd her, Tony climbed in on top, his knees to either side, and began to kiss her back.
They were soon interrupted, however, by a rather perplexed and contemplative voice directly above their heads.
"First Lieutenant," The Major began, looking down at the two with his head tilted curiously to the side. "It has come to my realization that as we are now once again allies, and I have given you back your rank, that makes myself your superior once more. And as your commander, my order to you is....to make room."
The muffled protests of Tony and Rip were drowned out as the Major, taking off his jacket, pressed in between them. The wood of the coffin groaned with the extra pressure; the screws popped out one by one. The lid, perhaps by Bending, perhaps by sheer magic, actually managed to close down all the way.
The rocking began.
--
The next morning, Rip reported in as a casualty of war with seven caved broken ribs.