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haven't done this in a while, but...listened to while writing the (end of this) chapter!: streetlight manifestoooo

This wasn't the welcome I was expecting, to say the least.

The guy Pepper's suddenly decided to collapse into is staring at me, shifting his weight to keep her stable. His eyes are wide; I think he's surprised to see me.

An affair, maybe?

Shit, if Pepper's been—

"Tony Stark, I'm guessing," he says, slowly resting Pepper down on the porch.

"What's it to you?" I sound more defensive than I might like. All I want is to get down to my workshop and kick this plan into gear.

Oh, and maybe get Pepper an icepack or something, too. I can't deal with her secret lover at the moment, but apparently he wants to deal with me.

He takes a few steps forward and sticks out his hand. "Perry Van Shrike. I was hired to, uh, find you. But I guess that's been taken care of."

"Perry Van Shrike? As in, the Perry that Harry always talked about?"

He raises his eyebrows, and I'm guessing that I've got the right Perry.

"Yeah…"

I point slowly at him, then my finger wavers and twirls, and I trace some weird shape in the air. "You need to teach him more detective shit."

I don't think he's surprised. "Speaking of Harry, where the fuck is he?"

I bite my lip, and I'm guessing that's enough of an answer for him.

"Did they kill him?"

"What? Jesus, no. I don't think they're gonna do anything to him, actually." I glance down awkwardly at Pepper, who's still splayed across the porch, but not getting wet, so that's good.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Stark?"

"It's a long story."

"We've got time."

I sigh. "They…kindofthinkthatHarry'sme."

He stares at me. "They think he's you? Why in pluperfect hell would they think he was you?"

I shrug. "Apparently we look alike."

Perry eyes me slowly, and I can tell that he thinks the same thing; he just doesn't want to admit it.

"How did you convince them that he was you? He's not exactly superhero material."

I rock back and forth on my heels, mulling this over, until I decide that I'm too damn cold, tired, and hungry to stay out here. With that, I grab Pepper's legs and motion for Perry to grab her arms.

"Tell you inside," I say, mouthing to three, then picking up my assistant.

I give Perry directions to my room so that we can drop Pepper off until she comes to. He trips over the stairs at least three times, and I can't tell if it's because he's walking backwards or if he's drunk. Maybe both?

I could use a drink right now.

"D'you drink, Van Shrike?"

"I do, Stark."

"D'you want to drink, Van Shrike?"

"I do, Stark."

"Okay, then."

I leave him upstairs with Pepper—not the best move on my part, I still don't know if they're having an affair or shit—and grab a bottle of vodka, two shot glasses, and make my way back up to my room. Perry's looking around, his hands behind his back. Not too suspicious. He notices that I've returned and faces me.

"So," he says softly, "how was it?"

"How was what?" I ask, gulping down my first shot. I do a double take and glance at Perry, suddenly remembering the last time I drank. "Nobody's touched this, right?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. How was what?"

"Being…" He struggles for the right words, and maybe it's the alcohol, but I'm enjoying watching him squirm. I'm out of my mind. "…a captive."

"Fantastic."

"I couldn't go to a single channel without seeing your face at least once," he tells me.

"Really," I answer, not bothering to act flattered.

"It got pretty fucking annoying."

"That has a tendency to happen."

"They didn't even mention Harry."

He tells me this in mid-drink, and I start coughing. "They didn't?"

"No. I mean, what the hell did you expect? He's not some superstar exec or anything like that. He's not even close to your status."

"Well, yeah, but I would've thought that they—"

Perry rolls his eyes and downs his own shot. "Come on. You're Tony Stark, the multimillionaire playboy superhero; you think they're gonna pay attention to a detective's assistant?"

I shrug. "I thought they might've. They treated him as if he were as important as me."

"That's not the way the outside world sees it."

"Obviously."

He holds his glass out for me to pour into, and I hand him the bottle. He takes it begrudgingly and fills the glass, but he keeps the bottle next to him. Bastard.

"You just made my job a hell of a lot easier, Stark."

"Did I, now?"

"I don't have to look for you, and you must know where Harry is, right?"

I swish the vodka around in my mouth, making a big deal of puffing out my cheeks while doing so. "I think so."

"So we can go in and get him, put these guys in jail, and go on with our lives."

I smirk and shake my head. "Nah, Van Shrike. That's not the way I'm handling this."

"You're handling it?"

"I've got some bad blood with them."

"Do you even know who the fuck they are?"

I shrug. "Does it really matter?"

"Uh, yeah. Just a little bit, you know?"

"No it doesn't. You can figure out who they are after I'm done with them."

"What exactly are you planning on doing?"

I stare at him and grin. "I'm Iron Man."

He smacks himself in the forehead. "Oh yeah, forgot. Sorry," he says sarcastically. "Seriously, Stark, you can't do this on your own."

"Give me one reason why not."

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that people who plan to kidnap a superhero are actually prepared to deal with them and all their powers?"

"They weren't prepared to deal with shit," I scoff.

"They might be now."

"Why? They think they still have me."

"I doubt Harry's gonna keep that a secret for long."

I roll my eyes and swallow one last shot. "He will."

"You know what I want to do?" Brett asks, breathing in my face. He smells like onions, maybe a Philly cheese steak. I try not to gag, but it's hard to hold everything in. I do, though, because I've just got that much skill. Perry eats a lot of shit, so I'm used to it.

"What?" I ask, wishing my hands weren't tied behind me. I've had this bastard of an itch on my cheekbone for at least fifteen minutes, but I can't reach the fucking thing no matter how hard I try. I shift my mouth around, try biting the inside of my cheek, but nothing works, and I'm not about to ask this fuck-up for help.

Funny. I'm calling him the fuck-up, and yet I'm the hostage. Great.

"I want to get that Pepper Potts in here," he breathes. "And I want her clothes off. And I want to have sex with her. And I want to do it all right in front of you."

I stare at him. I don't know what he's expecting here.

"I, uh—"

"Shut up. And you know what else? She's gonna like it. I'm gonna show her the time of her life, and she's never gonna want to go back to your damn mansion and your prissy lifestyle, and she's never gonna want to go back with you."

My jaw goes slack. "We're not together, sweet cheeks. Sorry to burst your bubble."

Brett stares at me, and I think I've pissed him off. Good; Perry would be proud.

"You're supposed to be pissed off." He points accusingly at me. "Why the hell aren't you pissed? Why aren't you trying to strangle me right now?"

"Why the hell would I want to strangle…shit."

Brett's jaw drops. "Fuck me." He takes a step forward and smacks me across the face again.

"Aw, come on!" I moan. "What the fuck was that for?"

"You're not Stark, are you? Damn it, you're Lockhart, aren't you?"

I furrow my eyebrows and try to cover up my stupidity. Yeah, yeah, I'll admit it, and if any of you ever see Perry, let him know that I took the blame for this shit. It was my fault. "Why would you think that?"

"I've seen the way you react when I talk about your girl, and this ain't it."

"I just regained consciousness after being beaten up and knocked out for what, seven or eight hours? Give me some time to regroup, asshole, and I'll give you the reaction you want."

He skips the smacking and punches me instead. "Don't gimme that shit."

"If you don't want it, don't take it. But I'm telling you the truth."

"Damien!"

"What?"

Oh, we have to bring him in now?

"Is he Stark?"

"What're you talking about? Of course he's Stark. Who else would he be?"

"Lockhart, you dumbass."

Damien stares hard at me, and I grin. Brett punches me in the stomach, and I'm back to gasping. Finally, he shakes his head. "No, I don't think he's Lockhart."

"What? How is he not Lockhart? I just talked about his assistant, and he didn't care. That's not something Stark would let slide."

"Maybe it's the shit we drugged him with."

I glance at Brett and stick out my tongue. "Told you."

"Shut up." He stares at me and crinkles his nose; I match him step for step. "You're not Stark."

I roll my eyes and try to act bored. "Y'know what? I don't even know what to say to you anymore. I know that I'm me, and that's good enough for me."

"It's good enough for me, too," Damien pipes up.

"Thank you."

"You're a piece of shit, Damien," Brett tells him.

"No, I'm just not crazy."

Brett scrutinizes me again. "Stark had a goatee before."

Fuck.

"No, he didn't," Damien insists.

"Yeah, he did."

"Nope."

"How the fuck would you know, Damien? You just saw him today."

"I just don't think he did."

Brett swears under his breath, and then a grin that makes me feel uncomfortable sneaks onto his face.

"Unbutton his shirt."

"What?" Damien and I ask at the same time.

"You heard me. Unbutton his goddamn shirt."

Damien glances at me, shrugs, and reaches for the top button.

"H-hey," I say shakily, making an attempt to twist away from his fingers. "Uh, I mean, this isn't nec—fuck." He's gotten to my chest, which is devoid of glowing blue circles. I glance up hesitantly at Brett without lifting my head. He squats down until he's eye-level with me, then grins tiredly.

"You know what, Lockhart?"

I look at him. If he thinks I'm gonna answer, then he's fucking insane.

He doesn't wait. "I fucking hate you." His fist connects with my face, and everything's black again.

Perry shakes his head. "You don't know him like I do. He won't."

"Have a little faith, huh?"

"Harry doesn't deserve faith."

"Kind of harsh."

"Just a tad. But honestly, I bet he's already blown his cover."

I take one last swig of vodka and stand shakily. "We'd better get moving, then, huh?"

"What about Potts?"

I glance down at my assistant, who's still curled up on my bed. "What time is it?"

"Late. Or early in the morning, depending on how you want to look at it."

"Do you think she'll just wake up on her own?"

Perry shrugs. "Aren't you the super genius?"

"Hey, thanks. Did she pass out from being scared, or happy?"

"I didn't have time to ask before she collapsed."

I chuckle without humor. "No, seriously. Was she worried about me?"

His face softens, and he grins a little. "She was a wreck."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That's why we were out there in the first place; it was kind of like she was missing part of herself."

Wow. Wasn't expecting that. "That sounds like something out of a Hallmark card."

"It's the truth, Stark."

I let out a low whistle. "How about that."

"Do you have any of those—" he snaps his fingers, "—smelling salt things?"

I grab the vodka bottle, open it, and sit down next to Pepper's head. I cup my hand under her hair—it's softer than I expected—and lift her head up slightly so that I have enough room to put the bottle under her nose. After a few seconds of inhaling, she coughs.

Perry's eyebrows are arched in surprise. "Damn. Good stuff."

"No need to thank me."

Pepper moans a little bit and tries to sit up on her own, but she ends up falling back onto the bed, crushing my hand in the process. I bite my tongue and wiggle my fingers around slightly under her hair.

"Perry, what happened?" she asks, looking at Van Shrike.

Affair! I knew it! That son of a bitch.

I glare at Perry, who rolls his eyes and smirks. "Pepper, I think you've got more important people to talk to."

"What? What're you talking about?" she slurs.

"You feel something under your head?"

Her hand reaches back and her fingers trace their way along my wrist. I look over at Perry, who's got the biggest grin plastered across his face.

"Isn't that your hand?" she asks. Perry holds up both of his, and she gasps. Suddenly, her fingers lock around my wrist and she yanks me down hard. Goddamn. My head hits her chest, and I'm tempted to jump back up so that she can't sue me for sexual harassment, but I don't. I've got a witness here who—I'm pretty sure—will side with me, and plus, I've always wanted this. This isn't exactly how I pictured it, but it's close enough.

"Tony!" she wails.

I grin at her. "Hey, Potts."

"Oh, my God, Tony, you're alive! What did they do to you? Where were you? Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Where's that other guy you were with? How did you get away? Are they chasing after you?"

Shit. Hmm, where to start.

"I am. Shit. I don't know. I think so. Somewhat. Still there. Ran. Probably."

Perry sniggers into his vodka. I thought he finished the drink earlier, but apparently I'm not too observant.

"I missed you," she tells me softly.

"I missed you, too, Potts." I haven't moved since she dragged me down here, and she hasn't tried to move me. We stay there for a minute or two until Perry coughs.

"God, I forgot you were here," I mutter.

"Sorry to bust in on this, but I've still got someone missing in action here."

Pepper nods and starts to sit up, nudging my head off of her. I try not to look as disappointed as I feel, but I'm not sure how successful I am.

"But then again," Perry continues, "it is what, three in the morning? Somewhere around there." With that, he walks to the door. "You don't mind if I take the couch, do you, Tony?"

I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out, so I just shake my head.

"Great. Well, see you two in the morning." He leaves, closing the door behind him.

I look at Pepper, but she's not looking at me. After an awkward minute, she stands. "I'm really glad you're back, Tony." She touches her fingers to her lips, then places them on the top of my head. She flashes that trademark Pepper Potts smile and starts to make her way toward the guest room.

"Yeah," I finally manage to get out. "Me, too."

I wait for Pepper to close the door, and I collapse onto my bed. I forgot how nice sheets felt. I tuck my hands under my head and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, wondering whether or not what Pepper just gave me was a kiss. Right before I fall asleep, I make my decision.

It wasn't completely what I was hoping for, but hell, it was pretty damn close. It's a start.