Yes, the title was on purpose. I made a punny. Also, Latveria being a fictional country, I used a combination of Latvian and Romanian for the language.
Chapter 2: A Scandal In Latveria
"Say that again."
That teasing tone in his voice alone was enough to make her stop. Stephanie haulted in mid-step, momentarily putting her trip to the kitchen aside. "What? Why?"
From his place at his desk, leaning back in his chair, feet kicked up on the surface, Tony grinned mischievously, the glow of the holographic screens spread out before him illuminating his face. "Just say it."
Steph shrugged, clearly not seeing the big deal. "I'll get us some coffee." And with that, just as it happened thirty seconds ago, Tony nearly snorted in laughter, leaning forward in his seat. Steph rolled her eyes, annoyance building at being kept in the dark. "Alright, what's so funny?"
"It's just the way you said coffee!" Tony chuckled, no doubt enjoying getting a rise out of her.
"What? I didn't say it in any way." She huffed.
"No, you didn't say coffee, you said 'caw-fee'. Your Brooklyn accent is peeking out there, Cap."
Steph rolled her eyes in disbelief at this man-child, ignoring him as she turned and headed back toward the kitchen. Down the desolate halls with only the moonlight reflecting off the walls to guide her, she made her way toward the main living area, turning left where the kitchen sat in the corner. She glanced at the time on the stove as she passed. 1:04 a.m. A pretty normal occurrence for her to be up now. She'd probably be up another hour or two before she finally went to bed. Flipping on the coffee maker after a few moments of trying to remember how to start it up, she turned her attention to the windows across the room, looking down over New York City, and let her mind begin to wander.
Roughly three weeks had passed since her trip to her apartment, and her first late night encounter with Tony. Nearly every night since, they'd spend hours into the early morning in his workshop, simply talking. She'd watch while he worked on whatever project he had up his sleeve that night, passing him whatever equipment he needed, while they chatted. He was working on catching her up to modern history and popular culture after the 1940s, taking to slow because, as he claimed, "Once you reach the 80s, it gets scary." By now he'd had her watch Rear Window, Star Wars, Lord Of the Rings, Dirty Dancing, Dead Poets Society (no particular significance there, he just thought she'd like that movie, and she really did,) Forest Gump, and just about every cheesy, iconic movie he could think of.
Then there was music. They started with music just after the war, familiar but slowly changing. Then it was Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Bee Gees, Arethra Franklin, Michael Jackson, Bob Dylan, Madonna, musical artists that Tony felt made the biggest impacts in their days. It became easier over time for her to at least understand how music changed. That didn't mean she had to really like some of it, but she understood it. There were very few things they could agree on when it came to music; Johnny Cash, The Beatles, and Coldplay for example. While Tony was all ACDC, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, and the greatest hits of 'Mullet Rock', Steph leaned more toward, in modern music anyway, Michael Buble, Colbie Cailet, Josh Groban, and even some country and indie.
History was a bit harder. Steph was generally interested in learning about things like the Cuban Missile Crisis, the tearing down of the Iron Curtain and Berlin Wall, and the Suez Crisis. She read up on the wars in Korea and Vietnam, disappointing actions in her eyes, but she was a soldier, and she understood that war happened. But it was the darkest moments that really got to her, particularly the 9/11 attacks. She read, she mourned, and Tony was always there to explain things she didn't quite understand.
A sudden beeping coming from behind made Steph jump, before realizing it was just the coffee maker. She took the pot out, pouring two mugs and grabbing a handful of creams and sugars with two spoons, realizing she never asked how Tony took his coffee. She made a mental note to remember that, as it would save her a lot of time in the future. Mugs in hand, she made her way back to the lab, where Tony still sat at his desk, feet kicked up just as she had left him. About to place his mug on the desk, her eyes caught a small pile of papers in her way, adorned with pictures of a beautiful old mansion. She set the mug down elsewhere, tilting her head to look at it. "What's this?" She asked.
"Hm? Oh, that. That's the house I grew up in, on the Upper East side. I'm opening it up to my Mom's charity in the fall, gotta get it ready." Tony said absent mindedly as he toyed around with a holographic image of his suit.
"That's nice." Steph took a sip of her coffee, glancing over the papers scattered with dates, notes, money figures and the like. Photos ranging in quality and colour sat haphazardly under the papers. "There're a lot of old photos in here..."
Tony laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I found those in my Mom's old boxes. She loved photography, always had a camera on her."
Steph nodded with a simple smile, taking a sip from her mug before continuing. "Upper East side, huh? We made fun of those kids in my neighbourhood. Said they were too afraid to get their hands dirty." She teased.
"Trust me, that much hasn't changed. Though as I remember, you don't have much room to talk about being the target for Brooklyn kids."
"Well played, Mr. Stark." She raised her mug to him in a 'Cheers' motion, and had been about to take another sip, when something caught her eye. She paused, glancing around to find it, unsure of what exactly she was looking for. It'd been just a simple change in her field of vision, something small, probably insignificant, but it got her curious none the less. She shook it off, turning her attention back to Tony.
Her mug fell out of her hand, shattering on the floor, cutting her feet, but she paid it no mind. Stephanie scrambled around the desk to get to Tony, eyes never leaving the lack of light omitting from his chest. "Tony! Tony, shit, are you okay?!"
Tony nearly jumped out of his seat at her sudden outburst. "Jesus, Cap! What the he-" Following her eyes, he looked down at his own chest, finding the absence of his arc reactor's light. "Oh, damn." He said nonchalantly.
"Tony, what's going on, are you okay?! Will you be okay? Can I help? Tell me what to do." Stephanie rushed in a panic.
"Steph, Steph!" Tony's voice rose to catch her attention. "Relax. Alright?" He reached up under his shirt, and with a light click, unlocked the arc reactor and took it out, turning it over in his hands. "Just looks like a loose wire... right there, see?" He held the device up to her, pointing out a small copper wire that hung loose from its place. "Will you stop panicking if I let you help fix it?"
"What?" Steph's eyes widened. "Are you sure? That thing keeps you alive Tony, and I don't-"
"It's fine." Tony chuckled. "Here, si'down." He gestured to the desktop. Steph hesitantly complied, walking around Tony to lift herself onto the desk, legs dangling over. Tony rolled his chair in front of her, holding out the arc reactor."So, take those tweezers right there, and use them to pinch the wire... Alright, good, now just move the end into that little hole, right there..." The tip of the wire grazed the metal wall, a sharp buzz cutting through the air. Tony gasped dramatically, causing Steph to jump, until he burst into obnoxious laughter. She smacked his arm, glaring at him before focusing on the arc reactor once again. Stilling her trembling hands, she finally managed to put the wire back in place, eyes darting back and forth between the device in her hands and Tony, until the arc reactor flickered to life, it's light illuminating her face. Tony chuckled, taking the arc reactor out of her hands, lifting his shirt, and putting it back in its rightful home. "See? Good as new."
Steph laughed in disbelief, doubling over until her forehead rested on Tony's shoulder. Tony's grin widened as he patted her back. "You cussed pretty bad back there, Cap. You better watch out, you might get a Girl Scout badge revoked."
"Ah, take a hike." Steph laughed, lazily pushing herself up just enough to be able to look at Tony and- Wow, they were close. For just one moment, her heart race, red heat threatened to crawl up her neck and onto her creamy cheeks, all thoughts were blocked out, and it seemed like Tony was having the same reaction because, wow, they were really close... until Steph snorted in laughter. "You've got coffee in your moustache."
Tony back in his chair, touching his index finger to his moustache before rubbing the side of his hand over it. "Maybe I was saving it for later."
"Smooth. Now come on, we're on the 1990's for TV, almost there."
"Stephanie Rogers, allow me to introduce you to Boy Meets World."
.-.-.-.
Steph stepped lightly through the opening of the building, back against the wall, shield at her side. The floor crunched beneath her feet, scattered with broken glass. Keen eyes sweeping the area, she motioned behind her for Natasha, Clint, and Janet to enter, moving from her position once they'd filed in in front of her. The laboratory was modest at best, less than what she'd seen of Tony's workshop and others they'd visited. The room was small, the wallpaper chipping and water damage obvious on the ceiling. Tables had been over turned, glass cases broken, papers burned. A stout man stood at the other end of the room by a table turned upright, hovering over a battered laptop.
"Excuse me, sir? Do you speak English?" Steph called out as they entered, Janet buzzing by her shoulder.
"Hm? Oh, uh, yes. Y-You must be the team Mr. Richards sent in his place... The Avengers, yes?" The man stumbled over his words, as if recovering from a great shock.
"That would be us... some of us anyway." Clint nodded.
Reed Richards had called in early that morning, much to the chargin of the sleeping Avengers (Of course, Steph and Tony had already been up watching Full House.) He and the rest of the Fantastic Four were currently off world to sample an organic energy field they'd detected, and so Dr. Richards had asked if a few members of the team could check out a series of break-ins at top secret facilities in Latveria. In the end, Tony, Bruce, and Hank were all preoccupied with their respective projects, and Thor was needed in Asgard, leaving Natasha, Clint, Janet, and Steph to look into it. Even one of them would have been plenty, but with a situation like this, they'd decided not to chance it. That, and Janet had complained that they hadn't actually done anything in 'forever'.
The man, whose little hair had been combed over a balding spot, shook each of their hands, pausing hesitantly at Janet, who simply reverted to her normal size. "That's perfectly alright. I'm Dr. Smadzenes, I'm the head scientist at V.D Industries." He led them over to his computer, on which were displayed four different video frames, alternative with different views. "I've pulled up the security tapes from the night of the break in, but they've been tampered with." He explained as he typed in a time code.
With the team crowding around the screen, they watched as the video began to play. All seemed silent, with occasional shadows passing the windows, until there was a sudden burst. The glass blew inward, the air alive with blue sparks of electricity. A cloaked figure suddenly flew toward the camera, hand outstretched. Within an instant, the stream crashed, the videos displaying nothing but a red flashing "Error" text.
Dr. Smadzenes brushed his hand over his head, tense and frustrated. "I've gone through the video frame by frame, but I can't figure out what-"
"Smadzenes!" Barked a sharp voice from a door adjacent to the exit. A tall, greying man in cooperate dress approached them with heavy footsteps, only stopping once he'd successfully invaded the Doctor's personal space. He began ranting at him in rushed, angry Latverian, barely letting him get a word in edgewise.
The team stood by in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden outburst. Clint leaned toward Natasha, speaking under his breath. "You getting any of this, Nat?"
She shook her head, eyes fixed on their rapidly moving lips. "Only every other word. My Latverian isn't fluent. But it seems we're not exactly welcome here."
"Well, I could have figured that out." Janet quipped.
The newcomer, obviously a superior in command to Dr. Smadzenes, suddenly raised his hand as if to strike him. Stephanie's hand shot out, catching his wrist in an iron grip, putting herself between the man and the doctor. "Not on my watch." She hissed.
The man yanked his hand away, stepping back. He straightened out his pressed suit, eyeing Steph warily. He cleared his throat impatiently, sending a side long glance at Smadzenes. The doctor flinched. "This is Mr. Ē is the chairman of the board for this program."
"It would seem there had been a false alarm." Ēzelis interrupted, looking down his crooked nose at the team. "Your services aren't needed here."
Janet frowned, crossing her arms. "False alarm? Take a good look at this place, I think this is beyond-"
"Your services aren't needed here." Ēzelis snapped. "Now please show yourselves out." His eyes made a beeline for Steph, who glared at him suspiciously from under her mask. Her grip on her shield tightened, her leather gloves creaking against the straps. Something wasn't right here. There'd obviously been a major break-in, with technology that could potentially be very dangerous missing. So what was he trying to hide?
"You will excuse us then." Steph nodded politely, though there was no masking the venom in her voice as she turned on her wheel and walked toward the massive gap in the wall through which they'd entered. Stepping out into the sun, the chilly climate of the country cool her skin, calming her irritation.
Clint stepped before her, drawing her attention away from the pale blue sky. "What was all that about, Steph? We can't just leave-"
"We're not." She affirmed. "But we won't make any progress in there. We have to investigate elsewhere." Her eyes scanned over the street, deserted as if the people were afraid to be seen. But by who, that was the question. She just had to figure out how to find out.
"That might be a good place to start." Natasha broke her from her thoughts, pointing at the building across the street. It was nothing but a small clockwork shop, as it appeared from the grand clocks in the window. But on the other side of the glass, sitting in the far corner and facing the street, a small camera clung to the ceiling.
After ten minutes of trying to convince the woman who owned the shop to let them in and view the surveillance with Natasha acting as translator, the team was allowed in, and ushered to a cramped and cluttered office in the back. Clint took up the only chair in the room, typing away at the outdated computer, while Steph and Natasha stood behind him on either side, and Janet shrunk down, standing on the desk to make more room.
"Does anyone remember what the time was on Smadzenes' footage?" He asked as pulled up the live stream.
"2:28 am." Steph recited from memory without hesitation.
Clint gave her an odd side long glance, to which she just shrugged. Turning back to the screen, he typed in the time code, and began playing the video. Just as they had seen before, the street seemed desolate, trees on the side walk casting long, creeping shadows over the road. Then, too fast for them to properly make out, a figure- no, two figures- shrouded in darkness moved leisurely down the street, stopping in front of the opposite building's window. It shattered inward with sparks of blue electricity dancing in the air, before they both disappeared completely.
Clint frowned, typing in a few more codes until the stream flickered back to the original frame. With the periodic tapping of the right arrow button, he went through the video frame by frame, scanning the screen for any clue as to who they were dealing with. "There." He stopped at a picture of the figures just before they entered, as one turned to look back at the street.
Janet flew in front of the screen, squinting her eyes. "Is he... blue?" She asked, pointing out the blue hue to the man's skin.
Natasha moved in closer, bracing her hand on the back of Clint's chair. "That's Kang the Conqueror. He's an enemy of The Fantastic Four. Last time I checked, they had him locked away and his tech destroyed."
"Well, did anyone really expect him to stay locked up?" Janet quirked an eyebrow. Natasha rolled her eyes.
"Okay," Steph nodded, "So we know that's Kang. But who's the other fella?"
"Rege!" A young voice called out from behind them. Steph turned around to see a child, a little boy who couldn't be older than seven, pointing at the screen. Before anyone could respond, the shopkeeper appeared behind the boy, her face flashed in fear. She scolded him, her voice a mix of fury and terror as she herded him out, apparently sending him to his room on the next floor. The woman then turned on the team, speaking hurriedly in her native tongue, pointing to them door. Natasha attempted to respond, her Latverian forced, but it was no use. They didn't have the same diplomatic immunity they would on an official SHIELD mission.
Practically thrown out onto the street, they looked back just as the door was slammed shut and bolted. "What the hell was that all about?" Clint turned to Natasha, who frowned in thought.
"The boy said Rege... if I remember correctly, that means King in Latverian."
Janet flew to her shoulder. "Hey, isn't Victor Von Doom the King of Latveria?"
Clint huffed as together they made their way down the deserted street, toward the Quinjet they'd parked on the outside of town. "So, we've got the Dynamic Duo of Kang The Conqueror, time travelling pain in the ass, and Victor Von Doom, royal psychopath. Perfect."
.-.-.-.
Tony sauntered through the penthouse level of the Tower; yes, sauntered. Because today was a damn good day, and tonight would be a damn good night. Those sent out on the mission to Latveria had returned just a few hours ago, and although they had a few concerns, there was no immediate danger. Bonus.
He didn't know when he'd grown so accustomed to his late night chats with Steph. When he began insisting on helping her understand the world she now lived in better, when her mere presence and simple input inspired him in his creations, when they both slowly started to unload their baggage. It was a mutual trust that nothing they said would leave that room. She knew about how Howard treated him growing up, and he knew about her liaisons with Peggy Carter. He knew she was Bi (which he had to teach her about, because it wasn't something people talked openly about in those days) and she knew he had a shit ton of issues usually solved by hours of burying himself in his work and a good deal of whiskey. The unloading of this baggage was thrilling, relieving and terrifying all at once, and yet he couldn't get enough.
There was something different about Steph. And yeah, he could say that about alot of girls. Pepper was certainly different. And they had a great relationship, he'd truly fell for her, but in the end it didn't work. They had a good clean breakup, and after a few weeks of 'grieving' they'd mended their relationship as good friends. Pepper would always have a special place in his heart. Yes, she was different from the many other girls he'd "dated," but Stephanie Rogers was a different kind of different. When he got a little to touchy or moody, she didn't let him get away with it. She didn't shy away, didn't apologize, made him talk through it until they both understood, and at the same time, she knew when to give him his space. He could rant away about technology, and she wouldn't just smile and nod, she'd listen,ask questions. She never really caught on, but she seemed to like the white noise. On the field she was a hardass, but she cared. She was tough, not like "constantly put you down, I don't need anyone" tough, she didn't feel the need to constantly prove it.
"Hey Stark! Anybody home?" Startled by the feeling of knuckles rubbing against his head, Tony swatted the offending hand away and whirled around to find none other than Clint Barton standing behind him with that stupid smug grin plastered over his face.
"What do you want Tweety?"
Clint raised a brow, his arms crossed. "I've been calling you for five minutes. Walked right behind you and you didn't even notice."
Tony huffed. "And?"
"And..." With a flourish, Clint revealed to thick slips of paper from where he hid them in the crease of his arms, his grin widening. "I'm guessing these aren't for you and Dummy."
Tony's hands flew to his pockets, his eyebrows drawing together. "When did you..."
Clint felt the papers above his head, squinting at them in the light. "Two tickets for dinner reservations in Central Park. Looks nice. And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say these are for a certain Dame?"
"Alright Chuckles, give'em back." Bruce rounded the corner, snatching the tickets from behind Clint, passing around him to hand them back to Tony.
"Thanks Bru-"
"But we all know you've got it bad for Stephanie." Bruce interrupted, the amusement playing at the corner of his eyes.
Clint burst into a jovial laugh, clapping the scientist on the shoulder. "Nice one big guy!"
Tony waved them off easily, turning his back on them to continue his way down the hall. "You're both out of your minds."
Clint cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting at him as he left. "Whatever you say! But Steph's not in your lab!"
Tony faultered in mid-step. A deep frown crossing his face, he faced his teammates once again. "What?"
"She's out on the balcony." Bruce answered, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "She's been out there ever since they got back from Latveria."
Tony nodded pursing his lips. "Oh..." Shoving the tickets back into his pocket, he took a long sidestep toward them. "Well, I just remembered I have some business in that... general... direction."
.-.-.-.
The night surrounded her in a still atmosphere, closing in around her as she leaned against the glass barrier. The city sat a thousand feet below, spreading out in a cluster of lights and buildings in the dim moonlight. No star could shine through the light pollution and light cloud cover, but New York seemed to provide the stars from below. High up above the world, the universe could have flipped upside down and she wouldn't know. The only things that existed were the still coolness of the night, the gentle lights, and the long closed files in her hands.
The sound of a door opening behind her was not lost on her senses, though she did not respond right away. A long shadow appeared at her side, the silhouette of carelessly tossed hair and two mugs in hand immediately recognizable. She kept her eyes glued to the city as she spoke. "Started going through the files we have on this Kang character. Found a little more than I bargained for." She laughed dryly.
"Did you find his college photos? Was he a Chip'N Dale's dancer?" Tony offered as he joined her, mirroring her posture as he passed a warm mug into her hands. She took it gratefully.
"No such luck." Looking down at the surface of her coffee, she frowned in thought, turning the information over in her head, trying to get a taste for it on her tongue. "Daphne Miller, Rosa Caruso, Gladys Young, Beth Vogel, and Marty Clarkson. Killed In Action November 13th, 1942, just after I disappeared, by one who would later be recorded as Kang The Conqueror. Those were my girls..."
A thick silence drifted between them, realization dawning on Tony. "Oh, jeez Steph..."
"The Banshees they called us. A Special Ops team of the Women's Army Corps lead by yours truly. They sent us in when the boys couldn't handle it. Often met up with Bucky's team, The Howling Commandos. It was on one of those missions that he..." She trailed off, studying her coffee once again. "I got a little inspired to look up the rest of my team after that... Wilma Johnson married a french guy and moved to Paris. Jenny Port took a bullet to the shoulder in '44 and was sent home, died in '70 with seven kids and a farmhouse in Tennessee. Molly Gallagher moved to Canada..." Steph took a deep breath, pausing as if to force the words out. "Peggy Carter... alive and kicking today."
Tony shook his head is disbelief. "No kiddin'..."
"She's gotta be over 80 by now... guess she's too stubborn to go down just yet. Doesn't say much else about her though. Just that she kept working until her retirement in '84. She must be bored to death." Steph bit her lip, lifting her gaze out over Manhattan, toward the Atlantic Ocean, as if she could see all the way to England, where she imagined an elderly woman sitting in an outdated living room listening to the songs they could have danced to. "Kinda reminds me of everything I've missed..."
"Hey now, leave the melancholy attitude for a rainy day, Cap." Tony piped up, slipping the tickets out of his pocket. "How about a night out to get your mind off of all this business? Reservations for an old restaurant in Central Park. I've been there before, they've got the best food in town."
A faded light returned to Stephanie's eyes as she glanced from the tickets to Tony's hopeful expression. "Yeah... yeah, I think I'd like that." She offered a small smile, not quite reaching her eyes. Pushing herself off of the glass barrier, she cast her eyes back out to the city. "But right now... I think I'm going to take a walk. Just to clear my head a bit."
Tony watched her retreating back as he made her way into the penthouse, unable to tear his roots from his spot. As much as he told himself not to be, he was worried about Steph. Sure, he teased her constantly about it, as did the rest of the team, but he knew it must be unfathomably difficult to be force to leave an entire world behind and be shoved head first into a new one. But tonight, he worried for a different reason. One he couldn't quite place his finger on.