to make MerianMoriarty shush and send her merrily on her way to Chicago, the aftermath of In Her Shoes.

warnings: iron man movieverse (a little au-ish). bad 616 references. shameless pre-slash (TonyxSteve). language: pg (primetime tv).

pairing: Tony/Steve pre-slash.

timeline: let's call it ~3 years after the first movie, with the Avengers firmly established, Tony and his entourage moved to Manhattan, etc. later in the day of In Her Shoes

disclaimer: all the characters belong to someone not me. no, really. if i owned Captain America, i would never leave the house...(and neither would he)

notes: 1) notes? let me get back to you on that. if you have specific questions, comment and i'll add them here.

p.s. i am aware that Dummy's name is actually Dum-E. (and You's name is actually U. i can't remember the third bot's name...)

Lost in Translation

Tony was not avoiding Steve.

It just happened that, in the hectic, slightly hungover aftermath of the little soiree with Natasha and Pepper and Rhodey and Pete, he was enormously busy.

And Rhodey had brought another batch of 'non-critical lab equipment' with him, including Dummy (that left only one big box of knick-knacks and any spare parts for the cars).

It couldn't be considered avoiding until it stretched on for more than a day.

"—and the Quin team still needs your okay on the latest blueprint," Pepper was saying, keeping up as he strode toward the private express elevator down the hall from his office.

"They're not gonna get it until they clean up the wiring to the rear control hatches," he replied easily, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his cuffs. Parties were one thing, but his true playtime would always be tinkering in his lab. He'd been looking forward to having another autonomous assistant again, and in spite of the rudimentary AI's shortcomings, he would always have a soft spot for Dummy.

"Okay," Pepper said, making a note. "Marcus wants to hear your thoughts on R&D's latest electronic countermeasures."

"Tell him I'll email him. Eventually."

"Reed Richards wanted to discuss repulsor theory and applications for large vehicles like medical transports."

"I'll call him once I'm actually awake tomorrow."

"And Steve wanted to talk to you."

Tony hid a wince by tilting his chin up to unbutton his collar. "Rhodey still around? I could use some good conversation while I unpack Dummy's attachments."

"You can't avoid the man forever, Tony; you have breakfast with him every morning."

"I'm not avoiding him. It's not avoiding when it's only been a day."

"Mm-hm. Be sure to tell him that."

The elevator stopped, opened onto the glass-walled panorama of Tony's lab with someone peering inside. A tall, blond someone.

"Steve," Tony said, shooting a dark look at Pepper (she contrived to look innocent).

Steve didn't quite jump, but he turned very quickly. "Oh! Tony. Hi." He gave a nervous grin.

Tony shoved his jacket toward Pepper a little more harshly than was strictly necessary. "Jarvis, when we moved in almost six months ago, I gave you a very short, very specific list of people to allow out of that elevator."

~It seems you did, sir. For some strange reason, Captain Rogers' name was not added to the list upon his reanimation. Nor, as it happens, were any of the Avengers' names. Miss Potts took the liberty of amending the situation.~

"Did she," Tony grumbled. "I trust Colonel Fury's name didn't get amended onto that list."

~Of course not, sir.~

He keyed into the lab, rubbing his hands with anticipation as he approached the pair of large crates. Behind him, he heard what sounded like Pepper ushering Steve into the lab.

"So, I checked my email today," Steve said. "Jarvis still has to help me, but I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Really?" Tony said with forced nonchalance, unlocking the nearest crate and thumbing open the latches. "Great. You'll be on Twitter before you know it."

"I, uh…I got your email from this morning."

Oh, look, attachments. Extinguisher, penlight, spotlight, floodlight, grip, wrench, screwdriver… "Yeah, Pepper was teaching me a lesson for overindulging and invading her closet. That's all."

"Oh."

Tony imagined he caught a disappointed note in Steve's voice, and wondered absently just what Pepper had written in that "audacious little email." He knocked on one end of the other crate, heard an answering knock from the opposite end.

Steve waved a hand. "I mean, yeah. Of course. I figured it was something like that. Y'know. Practical joke."

"Yeah. Hey, could you gimme a hand with this real quick? Rhodey didn't mark the crates, and Dummy ended up on his side. He'll be a real pain to turn right-side-up on my own."

Steve wandered over. "Sure. Which way's up?"

"This end."

And Steve picked the thing up like it weighed next-to-nothing, turned it the right way around, and carefully set it back down (Tony pretended not to be admiring the view). "There."

"Thanks."

"Well, now that's all sorted out," Steve said, gesturing vaguely toward the elevator. "I'll, uh…go get some dinner. See you at breakfast."

"Right."

The lab door slid open and closed. The elevator door slid open and closed. Pepper walked over and smacked Tony in the back of the head (rather harder than he felt he could possibly deserve, since the Gucci dress had still been immaculate when he'd hung it back up in her closet).

"What?" he complained.

"Tony, you idiot," she muttered. "That was a perfect opportunity. All you had to do was say something witty and asinine, like you would have for any cover model floozy. Or you could've asked me what I wrote in that email. When Captain America meets you at the elevator to talk about arranging a dinner date, you really shouldn't say 'Oh, it was just a prank.' The appropriate response is 'I'll pick you up at seven, dress nice.'" She hit him a few more times. "I practically—gift-wrapped him—for you!"

"I'm supposed to know these things?" he yelped, ducking away and rubbing at the growing bump on the back of his skull.

"I wish I still carried a clipboard, so I could hit you with that!" she growled. "Any other time, you just assume that everyone's interested in you, but no! No, this time you—you—argh!" And she smacked his arm a couple of times for good measure.

"Ow, ow, stop hitting me already!"

She huffed for a moment, took a cleansing breath. "You were right. The day got stranger. The Tony Stark ransacked my closet, wore my Gucci dress and my Prada shoes, fell out of his chair with half the board of directors looking on, spilled coffee on a board member's perky PA, and completely fumbled an opportunity for a date with Captain America. Next thing you know, Happy will ask me out to lunch and Carol will turn out to be an alcoholic."

"Stranger things have happened."

"Stop saying that. Okay. It's okay. I can fix this. I can perform impromptu open-heart battery-replacement; I can fix this." She straightened her blouse, ran a hand over her hair. "All right. The next words you say to Steve Rogers had best be either 'good morning' or something ludicrously charming. I will go and smooth things over. Stay here, play with your damn toys, and keep out of my way for the rest of the night."

Tony pouted and opened the second crate while he watched Pepper stalk out of the lab. "At least you still love me, Dummy."

The robot made a reassuring noise and patted him on the shoulder.

.End.