It has been said that life is short, painful, and a fucking misery of random happenstance… and then you die. After that some people say you go to heaven, some people say you are reincarnated, and some people say you got to one of many many hells. Now having been more of a goat than a sheep must less a lamb… well, Tony thought there would be more fire or something. Instead, the sun is shining; he's in a "nice" coffee shop that basically screams affluenza, and Steve "perfect teeth" Rogers is making googly eyes at him. Fire would be preferable.

Of course, that's not actually the problem. Well, okay it's definitely a problem, but it isn't THE Problem. The Problem is that he and Rogers haven't spoken in three years. And they haven't spoken because the last time they saw each other Rogers tried to murder him. You blow the replaceable metal arm off a somewhat psychotic assassin who violently murdered your parents and all of a sudden people lose their damn minds and start in with head blows and butterflying injuries. Then they leave you alone and unarmed in a fucking Hydra base to freeze to death. And so … so Tony may have become a bit (actually a lot) paranoid – which meant having all kinds of signals and backups.

Like the white gold and platinum ring that's supposed to be on his right hand – inside of which is a tracker/locator. And let's not think about why something like that would be important, although fun fact: a desert is an area that fails to receive a certain amount of rainfall per year. Doesn't matter if it's burning hot or freezing cold – and now is not the time to remember how much trauma his chest (his heart) has taken. No, now is the time to get his head together because this is serious.

So yeah or rather no, there should not be a capsicle-shaped anything anywhere near him. So a large part of The Problem is that there is and also that aside from looks there is nothing of Rogers in it. Rogers would never make such a milksop face because Rogers is three steps away from being Captain Libertine the Great Alpha Father here to guide you. Like it would physically hurt him to be anything less than the most masculine of macho men.

So the bowed shoulders and the downcast eyes and the way he's biting his lip like this was fucking Twilight and his name is Bella… nope. Sooo…this is a trap. Or Hell – it could still be Hell. It's not like he wouldn't deserve it. Killing people is a sin, adultery, disrespecting your parents (at least his dad), fornication (so much), um blas- "Um sir?"

Fuck no – it's talking to him. "Sir?" And Rogers doesn't sound like that, especially not when talking to him. Because Rogers hated him from first sight, which is his problem because Rogers is an idiotic asshole. A hypocritical, idiotic, bull-headed, lying, moronic monkey-cunt of a prolapsed, shit splattered, herpes-ridden asshole. Not that he's angry or anything – facts are facts after all.

Also, this fucker must be blind because any normal idiot would notice how tightly he's gripping his knee. And whoever set this up is a heathen and a fuckwit because this suit is not what any man should wear never mind Tony Starks. But cringing into the nearest corner, while his expression does an excellent impression of a growing thunderstorm won't fix anything. Neither will growling – so he's gonna have to act like 'people' and deal with the creepy fuck wear Rogers' face. 'Fuck my life.'

"Um, Mr. Stark – I mean Tony,' and there is a bit of Cap's charm, 'Are you okay?" There are so many answers to that, and none of them are advisable. Least advisable of all is flipping the table. That would definitely not be helpful; it would, however, be fun and potentially cathartic. Also hilarious because having a mental age of four and a half has its perks, but Pepper would be disappointed and also something is rotten in the state of whateverfuckingstan this is so: "Oh, I'm sorry kid, it's been a fairly suckass day in the neighborhood."

And the Pod-person thing smiles, because apparently, it didn't get that reference? "Tony, you're impossible." That is the tone Pepper uses, that is a tone Rogers should never direct at him… they are not fond of each other. 'Keep it together. Don't run away screaming. The jig is not yet up.' But it's about to be because this is some grade A creepy shit. But he can do this; of course, he can get through this. He built the Mach I in a cave with a box of scraps while being watched by cameras.

"Sure. What do I owe you?" And maybe he can't do this since Roger's face has just gone weird. "You haven't ordered yet… Should I call Ms. Potts?" Like fuck he's dealing with Pod-Pepper – "Nah, I'm more than half asleep. Can you get my usual to go? There's a pretty nice tip in it for you."Nailed it. At least he has if that slow smirk on Rogers face is anything to go by. "Just the tip?" EW! Ew. Not enough liquor in the damn universe for… ew! "Cute, but I'm too sleepy to play." Also too sober for any of this, also what the fuck Podgers? Ew!

Podgers laughs and then walks, um sashays, what the hell is wrong with his legs? Is he trying to be enticing? Because he's coming off like he's got a bad case of hemorrhoids. Whatever, Tony just has to get out of here and figure out some way to get out. Then he'd get out the shoddy phone Actual!Rogers left him and they can take turns stomping the shit out of the idiot in charge of this. Brilliant plan really, but that's to be expected because GENIUS. And seriously what even is the walk Podgers is putting on? "Here you go. Save the tip – you can use it to cover wherever it is you're taking us tonight."

Mental reject say what? "What?" Yeah, no that looks doesn't belong on anyone but Pepper. "Our date – the one you begged me for last week. The one you've been dropping into all our conversations. The one you promised would be amazing – or have you forgotten?" Between the crossed arms and the cocked hip (never mind the pursed lips)… Rodgers may well have gone full controversial*. And you never go full controversial*, that's like going Full Macintosh or /pol/. And the saddest part of this is that there isn't any way to save this as blackmail material. Life isn't fair.