For the frostironfest fic-exchange on tumblr!
PS. The letters featured in this fic are written in Danish (since I'm a Dane and am violently taking advantage of the fact) but are supposed to be in another language (read and you will find out what). I just thought Danish would be alright. Also, if you decide to translate them I AM SO SORRY; THEY ARE IN NO WAY MEANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY AND ARE WRITTEN IN THE KNOWLEGDE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON'T SPEAK DANISH (I just couldn't help myself, I'm sorry (though I'm really not)).
1
When Tony first caught sight of it, he was embarrassed to say he may have jumped about a foot into the air and given a rather girlish scream. But then again, he also felt slightly dignified considering the fact that there was a fucking dead cat lying outside his workshop door. And because life had a fucking vendetta against him, it took about zero point one second for everyone to show up.
Cap came rushing down the hall, still sweaty from his workout; Bruce came running down the stairs from his own lap over his; Natasha materialized out of seemingly nowhere and Clint came jumping down from a fucking air vent.
The only one who wasn't there was Thor, and that was only because he was out on a date with Jane. Otherwise, he would have been there as well to humiliate Tony further, the bastard.
Clint took one look at it and promptly started laughing. Once he'd started, he didn't really stop, simply cackling hysterically, bending in half to grab at his stomach. Bruce was doing his best to hide a grin of his own, and even Steve looked like he was spending all his admittedly impressive self-restraint not to grin. The bastards. Only Natasha didn't react; she didn't even bat an eyelash. Sometimes, it felt like she was his only true friend in this tower. Then again, she could probably kill him with her pinkie finger alone so maybe not.
"What's wrong, Stark?" Clint finally gets out after his laughing fit has seized. "Afraid of a little kitten?"
"Not afraid. I'd more say acceptably startled. I don't know about you, but walking out of my shop and seeing a dead cat lying in front of my door kind of warrants my reaction." Natasha raised an eyebrow:
"By screaming like a little girl?"
"I did not–" he was cut off by Clint's laughter starting up again. Shaking his head, Bruce turned around and started back towards his lap. As Clint continued to laugh, Cap's brows furrowed.
"Where exactly did the dead cat come from?" Steve Rogers, everyone, asking the right questions in times of apparent hilariousness. Clint finally sobered up, staring down at the fury thing, contemplation evident in his face. Tony looked down himself.
The cat was small – not a kitten but small. Its fur was a shiny blue-black colour – like the midnight sky but without the stars. It was laid out on a crimson, circular piece of clothing – Tony couldn't be sure until he was closer, but it looked like silk. Around the cat's neck was a silk ribbon, the same colour as the circle it was lying on. It was laid out with such care, obviously staged and well thought out. It was weird and kind of creepy. You know, besides the whole dead cat thing.
"Jarvis?" He called out.
"Yes, sir?" the smooth voice answered.
"Did anyone lay this cat here? How did they get in – how come the alarms didn't go off?" The more he contemplated it, the more freaked out he became. Someone got into his home, and he didn't even notice!
"Well… It would appear it materialized out of thin air, sir."
"Thin air?" he frowned.
"That was what I said, wasn't it, sir?" Damn Jarvis and his sharp mouth. One of these days he'd really have modify him, or something. But that was a thought for another time.
He quickly retrieved a tablet from his workshop, pulling up the footage from the time the cat had appeared. Cap and Clint peered over his shoulder to watch the footage, breathing uncomfortably down his neck.
And true enough, about ten minutes ago the cat materialized out of thin air, no sign of anything else what so ever.
"Creepy," Clint muttered under his breath. Tony pulled up a few readings, but there was nothing to show except a slight drop in the temperature at the time of the materialization. He pulled up charts on the cat, but it seemed like a normal, everyday, dead cat – nothing hanky panky about it. He stared down at his tablet for a moment more, despairing in the fact that his precious tech had apparently failed him.
"There's a note lying next to it," Natasha observed. Tony whirled around, staring down at the cat, only now noticing the little white note lying next to and slightly under the cat's tummy. Clint leaned down and snatched it up before Tony had the chance. The paper looked like the expensive kind, folded once on the middle, "Anthony" written on the front in an elegant script. Was that ink it was written with? Clint unfolded the paper and promptly frowned down at the piece of paper. Frowning too, Tony plucked the note from Clint's hand, dumping his tablet unceremoniously in Steve's hand simultaneously.
Anthony,
Jeg elsker dig, min smørblomst, min kærlighed, min sol, min måne! Dine øjne skinner med en intensitet af tusind sole! Jeg har under vores korte hvis højt underholdende møde i dit tidligere tårn under mit angreb på New York besluttet, at jeg vil indgå i kurmageri med dig. Du vil være en højst morende mage!
De kærligste hilsner,
Din gud
"What the fuck is this?" Tony exclaimed, squinting down at the letter as if it might impulsively burst into flames. Steve peered over his shoulder down at it.
"It looks like… uh. I don't know. Something European?" Natasha looked down at it too.
"It's some kind of Scandinavian, I'd say. But I don't know." She seemed immensely annoyed by this fact. She reached for it, but the second her fingers touched the letter, it actually did bust into flames. Yelping, Tony dropped it to the floor. In seconds, there was nothing but ashes left.
And thus vanished the last clue they had to figure out what the fuck was going on.
So in the end, Tony still had no idea where the fuck the cat came from.
2
It had been a surprisingly slow week – no alien or magical, robot attacks (no attacks at all, actually) that would destroy approximately a few blocks that Stark Industries would then have to pay for. So therefore, because this was Tony's life and it sucked like that, something was bound to happen. It did.
The call came in a little past ten so at least whoever was wrenching an attack against their lovely, uncaring city had the decency to let them sleep in, if just a little.
When the alarms started blaring throughout the tower, Tony stumbled out of bed to Jarvis' voice informing him in his usual calm, collected voice that there was an other-terrestrial disturbance in Central Park. Tony scrambled to get a pair of pants on and ran down to his workshop, adrenalin clearing his sleep-addled mind.
It was Loki. Of course it was.
All the other avengers, sans The Hulk and Thor, were already there when Tony showed up, but instead of fighting like he'd thought they'd be doing, they were all just standing in a straight line, staring at the two green figures standing in front of each other. All the people had fled from the scene, standing a few hundreds yards away, overlooking the scene.
Loki was fighting some (if Tony was honest with himself – which he was) pretty hot, blonde woman in a tight green bathing suit thingy, showing off long legs and amble breasts. Tony might have been attracted to her if it wasn't for the fact that the sneer on her face looked slightly manic and very unattractive.
She was giving as good as she got in the fight – though calling it a fight might be stretching it a bit. The woman was throwing green ball of light after green ball of light Loki's way. Loki, who kept blocking the attacks with apparent ease, looked decidedly unimpressed and, dare he say it, bored. Tony couldn't help but grin as Loki actually yawned – hand to his mouth and everything – as he paraded off another spell. Damn, but he had style.
The enchantress gave a shrill, furious shriek and sent off another blast, bigger this time and fire-red instead of green. Loki casted a transparent, pale-green shield in front of himself at the last second which the blast glanced off of. Loki showed no signs of excursion whatsoever.
Tony could have sworn he glanced his way for just a moment, flashing a smug grin. But it may have just been his imagination.
This was around the time Thor showed up, exclaiming a loud "BROTHER!" in that booming voice of his. Loki seemed exasperated, letting out a tremendous sigh.
"Shall we continue this little quarrel at another location and time when my darling brother will not interfere and you have had a little more time to prepare?" She snarled viciously at him at which he simply rolled his eyes. With a last look Tony's way, he was gone in a puff of green smoke. A moment and the green woman was gone as well.
"Uuuuhm. What was that?" he inquired as he pushed up his faceplate. He walked up to stand next to the Avengers.
"I have no idea," Cap answered, looking nonplussed.
"It's Loki – what did you expect?" Hawkeye grumbled. "Whatever; I'm going back to get breakfast, anyone with?"
"You already had breakfast," Natasha pointed out. Clint rolled his eyes.
"Ever heard of second breakfast?"
They made their way back.
Tony had no idea what was going on, but he really just wanted to go back to sleep – six hours sleep in three days was not enough.
3
It was four o'clock in the afternoon when Tony stumbled into the kitchen, going straight for the sink. He pored himself a glass of water and gulped it down greedily, immediately poring another. Urgh. He really had to stop working all the way to dawn after four days spend in his workshop – this was getting ridiculous. After the second tall glass of water that severely lessened the sandpaper-dry-cotton feeling in his mouth, he leaned back against the counter with his eyes closed, slowly sipping the third. Gradually, the pounding in his head lessoned and when he began to feel vaguely human again, he opened his eyes again. Damn, but he was glad he hadn't drunk (much) alcohol yesterday or this would've been much worse!
It was then he spotted the little round red tin on the kitchen island in front of him. Curious, he pushed away from the counter, sitting down instead at a barstool on the other side of the kitchen island. Setting down the glass, he pulled the tin towards him. Opening the lid, he peered inside. Good God. He felt his heart rate speed a little faster.
Inside was the most delicious looking cookies he had ever seen in his life! Perfect cookie dough colour with fat delicious looking chunks of chocolate chips. He felt like he might drool.
He didn't even think about it – before he knew what he was doing, he was stuffing the first of five cookies into his mouth. God. He moaned in pleasure as the blissful taste danced across his taste buds. In less than five minutes he had devoured four of cookies. God, but he was going to marry whoever had made these divine cookies! Or perhaps sell his soul for another tin. Or he could kidnap them and keep them as cookie-baking-slaves. That way he'd always have a fresh batch of cookies at his disposal. New mission – first thing to do today: Find out which Avenger was the one who'd baked the cookies!
He was biting into the last cookie as Bruce walked into the kitchen. He couldn't help it – he gave another loud moan as the sinful taste assaulted his taste buds. Bruce froze in the doorway, looking more than a little uncomfortable.
"Uh… Tony?"
"Oh my God, Bruce. These are the most delicious cookies I have ever tasted! Like, ever! Even better than the crème brûlée I got on that little café in France a million years ago! Seriously, I have to know who made these!" Bruce looked vaguely uncomfortable and disconcerted now.
"Uhm, Tony. Those cookies weren't there ten minutes ago." Tony froze. It was then he noticed the note stuck to the back of the lid. He slowly lowered his hand, putting down the half-eaten cookie with difficulty, feeling slightly mortified. Hesitantly, he reached for the note.
Anthony,
Du burde virkelig lade vær med at arbejde i så lang tid af gangen. Det er ikke godt for din dødelige krop. Jeg håber du nyder disse småkager – jeg bagte dem selv. Det var i min forståelse, at i mennesker nyder sådanne sukkerindholdige madvarer. Jeg håber i hvert fald, du vil nyde dem lige så meget, som jeg nyder at se på dig, når du sover.
De kærligste hilsner,
Din gud
He looked up at Bruce, who was looking at him, worry etched onto his face.
"Well? What does it say?"
"I have no idea! I don't speak Swedish, or what ever the hell this is."
"Wait – what? Let me see–"
"No, Bruce, don't–" but it was too late. The moment Bruce's fingertips touched the paper, the letter went up in flames. Go figure. Tony banged his head down on the table.
"Ah – sorry," Bruce apologized, sounding sheepish. "This happened before, I take it?" Tony nodded against the table, silently despairing. "Uhm, why don't I go down and run a tox-screen?" Tony nodded again.
Once again, Tony had no idea what the fuck had just happened.
4
"What the fuck!?" was the first thing out of his mouth when he looked himself in the mirror after stumbling out of bed that morning. That and "holy – what the – OH MY FUCKING GOD!" He stumbled hack, tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass, all the while staring at his reflection in the life-size mirror in his bedroom.
What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck.
The reflection that stared back at him was distinctly his, yet it was not him. The hair was longer and wavy, the eyes wider, the face softer, no stubble. He was a woman. He… was a woman. WHAT THE HELL!? His t-shirt no longer fit him perfectly, worn and comfortable, but hung loose on his frame, almost slipping from a shoulder and bulging in the front. Tony stared down. Boobs. He… Oh my god.
And once again, because his friends had impeccable timing, his friends burst into the room. And stared at his reflection. For a long time. Very long.
Clint was the first to break the silence.
"Dude. You make one hot-ass girl." Tony sputtered and whirled around to stare at him in horror.
"Dude," he breathed, clambering to his feet. He couldn't help staring down at his legs as he did. No longer strong and lithe, they were now slender and hairless – and shorter. He may be used to being the shorter one, but this was definitely something new.
Fuck, this was creepy.
"Tony," Cap said, sounding freaked out. "You're female.
"Why thank you, Captain Obvious," he snapped, voice dry and sarcastic. "I hadn't noticed."
Then Thor started laughing a loud, booming bark that resounded throughout the room. Tony spun on his heels – wow, new point of balance – and glared at him.
"You think this is funny?" he demanded. His voice was even higher than before, for Christ's sake. Thor kept laughing, not even trying to stifle it. After a while and more glaring, he finally got out:
"I recognize the handiwork of my brother when I see it, Man of Iron."
"Loki? Loki did this to me!?" he all but screeched.
"Now, now, Tony," Clint chided, now barely containing his laughter. "Don't get hysterical." Tony's glare would have cut through class if it weren't physically impossible.
"The medical term hysteria was rebuked as a mental disorder in 1980, you chauvinistic dick!" He would have continued if it weren't because he saw Natasha step forward, gripping Clint's wrist. Clint immediately froze and wisely shut his mouth. Tony suppressed a satisfied grin and winked at Natasha. A slight curl of the left side of her mouth was all the answer he got.
He sobered quickly, though, as he remembered his problem.
"Get Loki here! He needs to reverse this!" He said to Thor.
"I can try calling upon him, but I cannot promise he will comply," he shrugged
"Just try," Tony demanded.
"I shall," he complied, a smile still on his face as he walked from the room.
Awkward silence filled the room. Tony tripped from one foot to the other, feeling nervous and out of depth. God, this was surreal.
It was Clint's eerily appreciative glance running over his legs that made him realize he wasn't wearing pants. This probably wouldn't be that big a problem had he still been a man, but now…? Was there a difference? Or was that just sexist. Urgh, this whole situation was bizarre. Finally, he just decided to walk into his walk-in closet and put on some goddamned pants.
No one said a word as he left the room. He could hear a soft conversation start between Steve and Bruce but he couldn't hear the words. He found a pair of drawstring sweatpants and pulled them on over his now too-big boxers. He took a moment to simply breathe through the strangeness, leaning against his closet door. When he felt a little more collected, he walked back into the room.
Loki was there.
He had an infuriating smirk on his face, standing next to Thor in a pair of black leather pants and a loose green tunic. His smirk grew to an outright grin as he caught sight of Tony. Tony scowled at him.
"Turn me back," he demanded in a strong voice.
"Oh, no, I don't think so. This is much too amusing." Tony narrowed his eyes as Loki even threw back his neck and laughed, showing off the lean line of his neck. The laugh was warm and pleasant – so at odds with his normal snarky voice. It gave Tony pause. He shook his head to eradicate the thought from his mind.
"I don't care how amusing you find this! Turn me back!"
"Touchy, are we now? I do not know–"
"Just do it!" Loki rolled his eyes and gave a mighty sigh, as if the whole world was there to ruin his precious fun.
"Oh, fine. You're no fun." He lifted his hand and gave a snap of his fingers. Nothing happened. Tony stared at him, panic etching itself snugly in against his arc-reactor. What if he couldn't turn him back? But Loki turned on his heel and began sashaying from the room.
"Wait! I thought you said you'd turn me back!"
"I have," he called calmly over his shoulder from the doorway. "You'll be back to your old self when morn comes." And with that, he was gone. He didn't even walk out the door, for fuck's sake, just disappeared with a slight pop in a cloud of green smoke.
So that was how it was gonna go.
Oh, Loki was going to regret this…
5
It took Tony a whole week to work out the perfect payback. Tony still didn't really understand why Loki had turned him into a girl (did he hate him?), but he was so gonna pay! After that, he used another week to get ready.
The Plan involved a newly built robot, magnetic fields and Loki's hair colour. Let's see how well Loki liked having his appearance severely modified. He could probably do worse, but if Loki's magic somehow interfered with the transition, Tony didn't want to risk him getting seriously hurt. Tony was quite certain he'd be dead in less than 5 minutes, if he did something to seriously damage Thor's precious little brother.
It was a success.
And it was probably the single, most brilliant thing Tony had seen in all his life! He hadn't laughed this hard in years, and he wasn't the only one. Clint, Bruce, Steve, Thor, even Natasha were laughing!
Loki looked absolutely furious. He was standing in the middle of a half-ruined street, practically seething smoke from his ears. At his feet lay the remnants of Tony's masterwork of a robot, but it didn't matter; it'd already completed its purpose.
Pink. His once raven hair was now a bright, bubblegum pink colour! Right along with his once black and green leather. All pink. By God. He looked like something out of a children's show on Cartoon Network! Tony was almost tumbling over in his suit, he was laughing so hard!
Then Loki was in motion. With long, sure strides he strode towards Tony, stopping right in front of him. Tony couldn't be bothered to stop laughing. He had his visor up so he could enjoy the view properly.
"You think this is funny?" he hissed. Actually hissed. Tony laughed some more.
"Seriously?" Tony said, after having gotten a little more control. "You turned me into a woman without my consent – you got of lightly, Po – oh hey, no wait, she's red..." An infuriating smirk spread across the god's face.
"Are you saying if I had asked and gotten you consent first, you would not have minded?" he asked, ignoring his last comment. "Tony Stark, everyone, secretly harbouring thoughts towards trans sexuality. Who would have thought…" Tony sputtered.
"I do not! I am perfectly satisfied with my gender, thank you very much. All I'm saying is, it might have been a fun experience if I wasn't so busy planning my – if I may say so myself – brilliant retaliation. And look who's talking, Mr Mommy Horse."
"At least I have offspring to bring on my inheritance." He sneered back, but without much venom.
"Ouch." Tony mock-winced. "Low blow, Reindeer Games – well good luck getting the colour out of your hair!" And with those parting words he took off into the air before the god could get the last word, grinning to himself as he flew over New York.
+1
It was a quiet evening, and Tony spent it trying to fix a few faults in a prototype for a new arrow for Hawkeye – the idea was for it to be incredibly small, enabling Hawkeye to carry that much more, and fold themselves out when the others were removed from the holster while still preserving their precision and strength. It was easy to say Tony had his work cut out for him.
ACDC was playing at its usual high volume, and therefore Tony didn't even know he was no longer alone before he felt two hands take a firm hold of his hips, pulling him back against a strong chest, a warm breath ghosting past his ear. Immediately, he froze, alarm pumping adrenalin through his veins and making him drop his screwdriver onto the worktable.
"Anthony," the man whispered into his ear, his voice pitched low and throaty, sending chills down his spine. Damn, but he knew who this was.
"Loki," he answered, his racing heart already calming. He was about 87,2 per cent sure Loki wouldn't actually do anything to seriously hurt him. So, fairly sure. He felt the god nose along the back of his neck, and he jumped a little when he felt a tongue start lapping softly at the place where his neck met shoulder. He shivered (and not in an altogether uncomfortable way).
"Uuuhmm… Whaaaat exactly are you doing?"
"Hmmm?" the god hummed, nipping at his neck, an arm snaking around his waist.
"Uh – is there a specific reason you turned up out of the blue and started molesting my neck?" This apparently gave Loki pause. He pulled back a bit, though his arm remained around Tony's waist.
"I thought a sufficient amount of time had passed since we had started." What? Tony drew a blank.
"Since we have started what?"
"Our courtship. Obviously." He said this slowly, as if Tony was an exceptionally dense child. Tony sputtered.
"What!?" he exclaimed, completely bewildered. He spun around in Loki's arms and took a step back, successfully trapping himself against his worktable. Loki stared at him, an uncomprehending frown marring his handsome features.
"Yes." He drew this word out as well, and Tony would've felt patronized if he weren't feeling so utterly flabbergasted. "I have been courting you for a few months now. I found it about time we took it to the next stage." Something clicked inside Tony.
"Wait a second – the dead cat, the cookies – that was you!?" Loki's frown, if possible, deepened even further.
"Obviously."
"And – and you have been courting me!?" His voice was pitched high and Tony would've felt embarrassed if he wasn't so busy freaking the fuck out.
"You… You did not know?" Loki took a step back, dropping his arm, looking suddenly insecure and a little horrified. Tony could only nod mutely, dumbfound and for once in his life out of words. "But – the letters."
"I didn't even understand the letters. You think everyone just walks around, speaking Swedish?"
"It was Norwegian," he stated, sounding a little annoyed yet looking shell-shocked. "I would have thought you would take the time to translate them."
"I never got the chance," he grumbled. "They burst up in flames before that."
"Ah. I can see the fault in my logic – I simply did not wish for anyone to read them after you had had the chance." Tony nodded dumbly at this. A moment passed in which they simply stared at each other. And then it was like a switch flicked in Loki's mind and a resolute look crossed his features.
"If you did not understand before, I will simply have to be more blunt." And suddenly, Tony found himself crowded up against his worktable, the god looming over him. And he just had time to think oh shit before warm, dry lips landed over his, demanding entrance.
Loki kissed like he did everything – devious and resolute, going straight for what he wanted and not afraid of using dirty tricks to get it.
And fuck it – wasn't this that much easier? Pushing back into the kiss, he gave as good as he got, giving a low moan as Loki's tongue stroked along the roof of his mouth.
At least now he knew what the hell was going on.
Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it!