Author's Note: I'm just putting this out here to see what kind of response it gets. I'm a couple of chapters ahead and while I've been working on this for a few months on and off, I think I might be able to see it through. As ever, don't own, don't sue.
Chapter One
The room was quiet and dark. Well, except for the soft hum and glow of the arc reactor, but Tony Stark was used to that by now. Flat on his back, with the covers up to his armpits, the soft, buzzing vibrations of the reactor were amplified by the duvet, sort of like a mini-massage for his triceps. It was nice, soothing. A comfort really. The only real comfort he had now that Pepper had woken up from her awe-inspired daze over his temporarily-selfless heroism and declared herself incapable of both running his company and holding her breath every time he did something extremely dangerous, noble and heroic. Basically, every time he did something stupid even if it meant saving the masses. She, wisely he might add, had chosen the company. That's what he always did, so how could he expect any less of the people around him?
Slowly, gingerly, Tony rolled onto his side. As always the shift in the pull of gravity on his body caused a prick deep inside his chest. Unable to resist – and with no one here in the dark of his bedroom to witness the moment of weakness anyway – Tony carefully laid his fingertips to the center of the arc reactor. It was warm. It continued to hum steadily beneath his fingertips, and the pricking sensation eased between one breath and the next as the shrapnel settled once again into the steady pull of the arc reactor's magnetism. Heavy eyelids drifted shut and Tony let out a soft sigh.
It was rare for him to feel this tired this early. He knew it was only about four in the morning, but even his last three cups of coffee had done nothing to clear the fog from his mind, causing him to turn in and admit defeat by basal body functions. He'd shucked everything but his white tank top and boxers, crawled straight into bed…and here he lay. Alone. Without a Pepper to call or a world to save…even his genius was deserting him tonight his mind unable to focus on schematics for the latest upgrades to the Mark VIIII prototype. Pathetic. Frustrating. Downright-
A clatter of something across the floor froze all thoughts of self-deprecation and woe. Something – a presence – crouched in the dark. He could feel it, suddenly there where there had only been peaceful darkness before. For a moment, Tony thought perhaps it was exhaustion induced hallucinations, an overreaction to something easily explained until the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck began to rise, and he felt something settle between his feet. A rattling sound began, something that felt strangely like the arc reactor's soft humming vibrations against the blankets by his feet. His heart was pounding, his shoulders tense. Something had just crawled into bed with him.
The seconds he knew he had lain still, struggling to keep his breathing steady, felt like hours, but Tony Stark had faced down alien hordes and angry Super Soldiers. He wasn't one to wait for long. Grabbing the .22 Rueger he kept in a holster secured to the nightstand at mattress level, he called, "Lights!" and sat up, aiming between his feet in a simultaneous motion. Panting, feeling his heart pound hard in his chest, he tried to make his mind wrap around the fact that there was nothing. No sound. No vibration. No weight on the blankets and mattress. Nothing. He had been so sure, so certain that something had settled there. That something had – had purred there. Yes, like a cat! Scrambling forward toward the foot of the bed, Tony's eyes darted all around the floor.
"JARVIS! Lifeform count in the Tower."
"Yes, sir. Yourself. Dr. Banner is in one of the upper level laboratories. Agents Coulson and Barton are asleep in Agent Barton's room. Agent Romanov is asleep in her room as well and Captain Rogers is on his seventh punching bag in the gym. There are thirty-seven security scattered throughout the Tower and a handful of insects that have not yet been disintegrated by your Robotic Roach Assassins."
Coulson and Barton…Huh. "And the lifeform count within the Tower about six and a half to eight minutes ago?"
There was a pause. A pause was never good.
"Sir, my readings for that small frame of time – precisely from four twenty-one to four twenty-three - …are scrambled."
"Scrambled."
"Yes, sir."
Tony took a deep breath. "Well, unscramble it."
"I've been trying, sir."
Pushing the safety back on, Tony twisted and reached up, ignoring the pricking inside his chest and sliding the Rueger home with ease. Rolling off the mattress and to his feet, he approached the desk and laid a hand on the surface. Immediately a computer screen came to life beneath his palm. "Show me."
Streams of data lines poured through a pop up box the moment it appeared. White letters and numbers pouring through codes and algorithms. Next came the video feed. It was a well-kept secret that while Tony respected and…even sort of kind of trusted his permanent houseguests, it never hurt to be overly cautious for everyone's safety. Thus, there were very well-hidden cameras in every room. Except the bathrooms. Well, there were still cameras in the bathrooms. They just weren't on. All the time anyway.
There! "Stop feeds." All the videos paused. Yep, Coulson and Barton were a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. Natasha was curled in the fetal position. Bruce was paused right in the middle of combining two liquids. Tony cocked his head. The goofy bastard was trying to make cream soda. What the hell? Snorting a short laugh, Tony looked to the next stilled video. Captain America, in all his Old Glory-less glory, was paused mid-knockout, the seventh punching bag a cloud of expressed sand and flying bag. For a moment, Tony just allowed himself to sidetrack. To drink in all of that muscle and patriotism…and then his eyes moved on. Dreams and fantasies were best kept for times when he wasn't possibly losing his mind or hunting down an intruder.
The rest of the screens were the same – all personnel doing their dutiful duties and earning the money Tony so generously paid them – except for the stilled scene in his room. The image was distorted, like running paint. Brown eyes narrowed as he studied the image. "JARVIS, zoom in on my feet. Enhance." The desktop filled with the image of his bedroom. Then the image was zoomed in on again and the area of the image where his feet should have been came into blurred focus. After a second, the image grew sharper, though no less drippy. However, instead of pooled grey-cream – the color of the rest of the duvet in the dark room – the spot between his feet was pitch black. Tony's heart stuttered, but his expression remained grim. "Save that JARVIS. And be on alert for similar disruptions to the video feeds, indefinitely."
"Of course, sir."
Turning back to his bed, Tony stared at the space in question near the foot of his bed. Was it his imagination, or was there an almost circular indent to the duvet there?
Tony decided not to say anything to anyone about the strangeness of last night. It might have been nothing. It might have been exhaustion. He might be cracking. It was all too uncertain with just one incident. While spooky, it might just as well have been some crazy sort of prank played by Clint or Natasha. It wasn't as if his life had been threatened in that moment. He didn't believe in ghosts. Not really. Well, really there was no empirical evidence either way, but he still found it very highly unlikely. Why would a spirit wait so damn long to make contact? He'd have to research that thought later. After his caffeine fix, his morning updates on news and stocks and after he'd sorted his overnight emails.
He found Steve already up when he went into the kitchen for his morning coffee or four. They both made companionable noises in greeting and then went back to their morning fill-up. Captain America, of course, had himself a full-course meal, all laid out neatly on a plate. The smell of food that early in the morning was almost enough to turn Tony's stomach. Coffee first, food around lunch. Maybe. If Steve eyed him a little longer just before he carried his third cup – the first two having been downed already – of coffee out to the common room, it wasn't that unusual because he always did that when he suspected Tony of pushing himself.
Settling on the couch, Tony set his cup on a coaster at his right elbow and picked up one of his many lay-about tablets. It booted quickly at his touch and he called out to JARVIS, "Split screen, CNN and FOX, I wanna see my stock updates and email on the pad. Thank you."
"You're welcome, sir."
The screens simultaneously snapped into life, giving him just what he'd asked for. JARVIS was amazing. Of course, he was because Tony had designed, programmed and given artificial life to him. Still, he always felt a little pang of pride with how adequate his AI was. "Anything more on our little moment last night, JARVIS?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Good." His eyes began to focus entirely on his tablet when a voice spoke curiously from behind him.
"What moment?"
That deep voice was enough to send shivers down even the straightest man's spine. Tony didn't flinch despite said shiver. "Nothing that concerns you, Captain. Why don't you sit down and we'll split the screen again? Catch up on ESPN."
A weight settled at the other end of the couch and the screen of his giant plasma TV slid into three partitions. JARVIS turned the volume on the two news channels down and put up the subtitles for them while leaving the volume for ESPN at a comfortable level. Tony let a small smirk twist one corner of his mouth before he resumed scanning his emails. They sat like that with the TV making the only noise between them for a while. By the time Tony was halfway through his email, Steve had twisted around in his spot and placed his feet in Tony's lap. Again, not unusual when it was just them, alone, in the common room, watching TV or a movie or sitting in companionable silence while Tony laid out schematics on a tablet and Steve read a book. Come to think of it, this happened quite a bit actually. Not that Tony was complaining. Or keeping track…
It was over an hour later that Steve finally roused himself from blankly staring at sports stats and speculations. Swinging his feet back to the floor, he rose and stretched, T-shirt riding up enough to expose most of his abdomen. Tony couldn't help but stare out of the corner of his eye. "Let me know if you plan on working on that red Ferrari again this afternoon. I'd be more than happy to help with the heavy lifting."
"Thanks. Thank you, I'll do that. Let you know." Forcibly, Tony reaffixed his gaze to the tablet.
"Good." And with that simple statement, Steve headed down the hall, presumably to his quarters. Tony openly watched his retreating back. No harm no foul.
Once Steve was out of sight around a corner, Tony set the tablet down and blew out a breath.
"He's quite the specimen, isn't he?" came a quiet voice over his shoulder.
Tony started. It was hard not to. Turning in his seat, he smiled with charm at the fidgety Dr. Banner. "Bruce. I didn't know you could sneak."
"You learn a few things when you're trying to stay off the radar." Bruce smiled and took Steve's vacated seat. "How are things going?"
"Percentages are up. The board only has glowing praise for the specs and blueprints of all three new Stark phones and they've approved research and development for the prototype phase. Pepper isn't breaking down the door in a lovely ginger-haired rage and …neither have you for, what is it? Twelve days now? And counting since we're almost halfway through day thirteen."
Bruce smiled wryly and rubbed his fingers firmly into his other palm for a second. "It's a lot harder to stay cool here. There's a lot more personal interaction. Steve insists that I learn hand-to-hand combat. He says 'Just in case' but I don't think that case will ever come to be. Still, it's better than some places and situations I've been through."
Tony smiled and stood. "That's good to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to attend to downstairs."
"Sure." Bruce nodded and made a small sweeping 'go ahead' motion with his hand. "I'll catch up with you some more later. I think you might find a few things I've got going on interesting."
"You bet." And with that, Tony was off and on his way to the elevator nevermind that he was still in his sweats and a worn-thin Van Halen T-shirt. His mind was buzzing with a few new thoughts he'd like to at least run through some simulated tests. Last night was barely a memory.
TBC…
