"You are trapped?" The only thing more infuriating than the insufferable tone of Loki's voice, is the look in those green, Trickster-eyes of his. Fortunately, Tony can't see them. Unfortunately, that's because he's trapped. Behind the locked door of a bathroom, in his own goddamn house.
"Tell me pray, Iron Man, what of all this 'tech' that you boast about so? Where is that, now that you actually, oh, you know, need it?"
"Don't make me hurt you." Bathroom doors are irritating; they block out the gritted-teeth tone of what you're saying. "You know I can do it," Tony says, "or wait, I'll get Hulk to do it."
"The green monster? You know he is pacified. He spends this… What do you call it again? This 'Valentine's Day'? …He spends it in human form, with that woman he's so fond of."
Bruce isn't here, that's right. He took Natasha with him. Three-day weekend at a B&B in Napa County, Tony's treat. Fuck.
"Steve'll do it."
"The 'Captain'? I think not. Last time he couldn't even catch me." Soft sound of Trickster-laughter is followed by the sound of humming, as annoying-Loki takes his time about getting ready in front of the mirror in the hall. "He'll break down that door I suppose, if you ask him. – Tell me pray, 'Anthony', are you decent in there?"
Just to reiterate, problem with locked bathroom doors? They block out the tone of your gritted teeth. …Well there's also the one about you can't get out and get to your boyfriend, on goddamn Valentine's Day.
"This is your fault, Loki."
"Mine?" Oh, that silky, silky Trickster-voice. "I am the one who forced you to install this 'tech' in your house? This 'tech,' which can be rendered useless, merely by a few tiny Doom-bots?" And the Trickster-laugh that follows? Even more irritating. "Next you're going to be blaming this on poor Doom, who was only following his villainous nature… Isn't it your job to stop him? Being, you know, a super-hero as you are and all?"
The reservations are for 8:00. Tony's watch, which is not malfunctioning, tells him it is 7:45. Fifteen minutes, in other words, for him to get to his room, and get his clothes (and the box with the ring in it, that's in the pocket of his pants), and get Steve over to a restaurant on the other side of town. Fuckin' hooray.
"Your brother'll get me out."
Idly, Loki goes, "Oh yes, I'm sure he will," in the most godawful casual-sounding voice known to man. "In due time," he says. "When he's finished in the bathroom upstairs, and comes downstairs with that hammer of his." There's another laugh. "I'm quite looking forward to seeing you naked, Anthony. I want to see the Iron Man's …weapon."
If he gets out… No, that's not positive thinking, when he gets out. When he gets out, Tony's going to make Hulk give Loki the biggest thumping of his life. He's going to swear off bathrooms for the rest of his life (or at least he's going to make sure he gets stuck in them with Steve on the inside, from now on). Just to reiterate here? Fuck.
The little humming noises of Loki preening in front of the mirror, continue, while inside the bathroom, a frustrated billionaire sits on the closed toilet lid, fuming. Then footsteps are heard in the hall.
"Brother!" Thor's voice. Yay. "Not ready yet?"
"Oh, I was getting there, Thor." God, that Trickster-voice. And then there's a snicker… Jesus. "Your friend in there seems to have a problem."
"Thor, get me out," Tony yells as loud as he can. "Go get your hammer."
"Friend Tony, you're in there?" A surprised, Tho-rish voice comes from outside the bathroom.
No, Thor, I'm up a tree in a park in New Jersey.
"Are you stuck?"
No, I just decided to take a relaxing vacation in the bathroom.
"But what about your 'tech'?"
If you can't get out to beat the dumb out of them, you might as well explain. "It's offline. Listen, Thor, I'm kind of on a tight schedule here, can you just go get Mjolnir and let me out?"
"Mjolnir?"
God Thor, could you get more dumb? "Yes, Mjolnir."
"I am sorry, Friend Tony, but Father has forbidden me use of Mjolnir until I stop seeing my brother."
Jesus Christ, fuckin' goddamn shit.
