movieholic: you should definitely have him address viewers in yours, too, it's always a good time :). thanks! i love that line, it had to find its way in here somehow.
j.v. hearts13: you're welcome :) i wasn't sure at first if Iron Man was gonna be in it, but I figured out a way today to get him in there, so hopefully he'll be here soon
JerseySaint19: thanks!
aniyunwea: thanks! i'm glad you liked it so much
a/n: two words: midterms. suck. which is why this didn't come out sooner. but it's here now, so here we go!
listened to while writing this chapter: an odd mix of things. mostly it was Margot and the Nuclear So and So's, Jack Johnson, the soundtrack for Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, and the kids in my study today.
"Why didn't you say you were a magician earlier?" I demand.
Harry stares at me, perplexed. "When the hell would it have come up in conversation?"
"Any time! All those awkward silences where we didn't have anything to talk about. I told you I was Iron Man, but you didn't tell me you were a goddamn magician." I sound hurt without actually feeling that way, and hope that he doesn't pick that up.
"Oh, let's see, hmm? Iron Man and a magician. Ex magician, by the way. I'm a detective now."
"Well you're doing a damn good job, then, aren't you?" I mutter.
"What?"
"Aren't detectives supposed to be observant and shit? Find doors and secret passageways?"
"Uh, hello," Harry trills. "I remember specifically noticing your arc reactor, and that you and me look alike. Kind of."
"Yeah, and those are gonna help us to get out of here."
"Hey, hey, hey, big guy, who's the one with the key, here?"
Oh, come on.
"Can you just unlock the handcuffs?" I ask, exasperated.
"I guess so. I can't see behind my back, though."
"Unlock mine first, then."
Harry looks genuinely offended. "How do I know you won't leave without me?"
"I promise."
"You promise?"
"Yeah."
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Because I promise." I sigh. "Look, we're gonna get caught if we wait any more. Just trust me, okay?"
After a few seconds, Harry decides that I'm trustworthy, and starts to figure out the best way to position his hands to get to the keyhole in my cuffs.
"Shit," he mutters.
"What?" My voice sounds more panicked than I'd like, but I don't think he noticed.
"Wait…nothing. Never mind."
"Are you almost done?"
He looks up. "Can you shine your chest over here or something? Be a flashlight."
"You can't be serious."
"If you can, I'm serious."
I twist slightly, but my hands move farther away. "No."
He sighs. "Fine. Just don't move."
There's a click, and I jerk my wrists to the front of my body, listening as the metal clacked against the floor. I'm about to get up when Harry coughs obnoxiously.
"Uh, unlock mine before you get up, por favor."
I roll my eyes, grab the key from his fingers, and unlock his handcuffs.
"Where should we go from here?" he asks.
I hold my hand out in front of me and bend my knee. "After you, Sherlock."
Harry curls his upper lip and sneers at me with fake laughter. "Let's go." He takes a step, then turns back. "Do you think there are like, guards outside?"
I pause, my mouth shifted over to one side of my face. "Nah."
"How do you know?"
"Gut feeling. And if there are, we'll get past 'em somehow."
"Y'know, it'd be really clutch if you had your suit thing right now. Then we could just blast 'em all away."
"I'll make a mental note to build a portable suit when I get back."
"Good."
Harry makes me go first. Go figure. As I grab the doorknob, I can feel my stomach start to sink. What if the door's locked? What the hell are we supposed to do then?
Stop it, Tony. Think of the positives. What if it is unlocked? Yeah, then there'll be guards outside. Shut up. It'll be unlocked, with no guards. You watch.
I hold my breath and turn the knob.
No guards. We're out in the hallway. It looks like we're in someone's house, like a mansion or something.
"That's convenient," Harry mutters, following me out. There are no lights on the walls, only tiny slivers that I can see under doors every so often. "What's your favorite direction—right or left?"
"Left," I answer, walking that way.
Harry watches me for a few seconds, then follows. "Let's go left."
"How do you shower with that thing?"
"What?"
Harry cocks his eyebrow and stares at me skeptically. "Come on, you're practically asking to be electrocuted with that—" he raps his knuckles against the arc reactor, "—thing sticking out of your goddamn chest."
"I manage."
"You don't shower, do you?"
"Oh, absolutely not. Because you're keeling over from my smell right now, aren't you?"
Harry pauses. "I'm good at self-restraint."
"Sure."
There's a quick silence as we make our way down the hall—it's always quick when Harry could be talking, I've come to notice—and he begins again.
"You should shave."
I freeze. "Repeat that; but this time, don't make it sound so stupid."
"Look, it's a strategy plan. Remember how I said we look alike?"
I'm not sure if I want to remember, but I do. "So?"
"So, it'll be easier for them to mess up. They won't be able to tell us apart if we get caught."
"Let's hope we don't. And we don't look that alike."
He nods. "Yeah. We do. You should shave."
"Why don't you grow a goatee?"
"You think I haven't tried?" he blurts out. I think he's embarrassed that my facial hair-growing skills are far superior to his. "I don't grow well under pressure," he adds quickly.
I sigh. "Even if I did agree to this, where the hell would we find a razor?"
Harry presses his hands against the wall, as if he's looking for some secret passage in an Indiana Jones movie. It's not too dark, but I still wouldn't be surprised if either Harry or I tripped over something. I think I'm having an easier time seeing, but that might just be because I'm the equivalent of Rudolph the Blue-Chested Superhero. Doesn't have the same ring as the traditional Rudolph, but I think it's a pretty solid start.
Suddenly Harry stumbles off to the side, and I can see a light in another room. I poke my head in the doorway he just fell into, and Harry's rifling through a medicine cabinet.
A bathroom. Fantastic.
Harry turns to me with a razor in his hands, his eyes hopeful.
"I'll leave you here," I say, trying to sound threatening.
"Don't be a baby. It'll grow back."
"How do you know?"
Harry brings his free hand down hard on the sink. "Jesus Christ, would you just shave your face? We're gonna get caught again, you're just gonna fuck us over if you keep complaining."
I take a step forward and swipe the razor out of Harry's hand. "Don't watch."
"Uh, what?"
"I don't want you looking over my shoulder."
"Where the hell am I supposed to go?"
"I dunno…go in the bathtub or something."
Harry rolls his eyes, but he still steps into the tub. He stands there staring at me, his arms folded across his chest.
"Close the curtain."
"Fucking ridiculous." He closes it, though, no matter how fucking ridiculous it might be.
A minute or two later, Tony pulls the shower curtain back, now clean shaven. I can't help it; I start clapping.
"Way to go, Tony."
"Shut up."
"I mean, seriously, that's amazing."
"Shut up."
"It takes some insane willpower to do something like that."
"Stop speaking."
"Hey, you sounded like Perry just then."
"Who is Perry?"
"He's my boss. I thought we went over this. Never mind, maybe you'll meet him if we ever get out of here."
"I won't lose sleep over it."
I step out of the tub and stand next to Tony, who has gone back to looking himself over in the mirror. "See, we're like twins now," I tell him.
"Fantastic," he mutters sarcastically.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something stupid. "Let's go."
As we leave the bathroom, I hear Tony say something along the lines of, "What now—should we trade clothes, too?"
I freeze. "Excuse you?"
He turns to me, his eyes wide. "What? Nothing."
"Nothing, my ass. That, that my friend, is fucking genius. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because it's genius."
I ignore this. "No, come on. That'd pull this whole thing together. They'll think I'm you, or think you're me."
"Wouldn't they notice if I had a goatee one second, and then it's off?"
"Trust me, they have bigger things to worry about. I'm sure they don't even pay that much attention."
"God, they're kidnappers, Harry. It's kind of their job to pay attention."
I wave this off. "No, fuck 'em. They're idiots. Now, come on, let's make the switch."
I hate suits. They're a disappointment to the male population of the world. They just absolutely suck. I look over at Tony, and he seems as comfortable as anyone in my shirt and jeans.
"Nice tie," he says, looking over my shoulder as I adjust said tie. "Whoever picked it out has amazing fashion sense."
"Really?" I ask, turning to the side in the mirror. "I think the colors kind of clash. It looks ugly, I think."
I have to look fast, but I think I see a tiny bit of disappointment run across Tony's face. "Pepper got that for me."
Goddamn it. "It's not that bad."
"Yeah, well, your shirt sucks."
We're about to continue our trek to the front door—or some way out, I'm not picky—when Tony jerks himself to a halt in the door frame.
"What the he—"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up." He presses his ear against the door for a few seconds, then shoves me back into the bathtub. This time, though, he follows me in and yanks the curtain in front of us. He looks at me and breathes, "Someone's coming in here."
"How d—" He clamps his hand over my mouth, and just as he does so, I can hear the door creak open.
