Would you look at that! An update! Wow. I don't know about you guys, but I really wasn't expecting this for a long time.

Chapter 3: Philosophy Is More Interesting With Rabbits

"New addition to the group today."

Happy hummed questioningly. He was already settling into "New York City Driver" mode, which involved eyes, ears, nose, and the uniquely developed seventh sense drivers in The Big Apple tended to pick regarding oncoming traffic, unwary pedestrians, and everything else under the sun that decided to drop itself onto the road in front of you; so giving a multiple syllable, well-thought-out answer was out of the question. Resigning himself to torturing the car with any number of painful, speedily preformed maneuvers, Happy reconsidered his definition of "New York City Driver" mode. For normal people, it might be the sixth sense, he thought, it was only his seventh because his sixth was already used for the Tony-needs-coffee-and-a-cheeseburger sense.

Tuning (sort-of) back into the conversation that may or may not have been happening while he was lost in his inner-monologue, Happy said quite eloquently, "What?"

Belatedly, he realized that Tony was giving him a weird look now because he hadn't said anything else, instead pausing for a presumably introspective moment of silence to ponder this development. Hastily, Happy corrected himself, "Sorry, carry on."

So the car was filled with silence once more as Tony continued his thought process, which had indeed been cut off by his driver's unfortunately timed space-in (as opposed to space-out, of course). And then, when the silence had grown appropriately long and awkward, he spoke.

"Susie Derkins."

"Huh?" Said Happy again, having been half-focused on the road and half contemplating the shelf life of the cashew and garam masala pancakes he'd baked last weekend, now zoning-in once more.

Tony rolled his eyes, and letting out a long-suffering sigh, he said, "Susie Derkins. Unmarried, only keeps in contact with her mother, her sole living parent, her father having died in some terrible incident involving demented snowmen and noodles. And she has a rabbit."

Happy was confused. "How is that important?" Or even interesting?

"Oh, right," said Tony, and Happy deduced that this was simply one of those not uncommon instances where Tony temporarily forgot he was not the center of the world and that not everyone knew what he did and said and thought every moment of every day. Upon remembering that Happy had not been in the therapy session with him, Tony realized that some things would need to be explained to the mere mortals he interacted with daily, and, with this epiphany in mind, proceeded to do so:

"The rabbit is stuffed, and his name is Mr. Bun. He appears to be a support stuffed animal, and Ms. Derkins is under the impression that he is alive and her son."

"Ah," said Happy, not having been helped in the least toward vague understanding by that comment, but glad that Tony was remembering to explain for once.

"Normally," continued Tony, "I'd say that one-sided intellectual discussions can only go so far, but apparently not. I can now claim to have met someone with the supreme ability to debate the intricacies of morality in relation to beauty with a rabbit for three hours straight. So there."

Taking his eyes off the road for a brief, exceedingly risky, fraction of a second to catch a glimpse of Tony, Happy came to the conclusion that Tony was 1) not entirely sure if this was a good thing, 2) wondering if he could find himself a emotional support stuffed animal that wouldn't complain at him for ranting, rambling, and other related activities, and 3) should never, ever, on pain of death, be given any type of emotional support stuffed animal, lest they lose him to the world of complete insanity and one-sided discussions of vague philosophical topics with said stuffed animal.

With that in mind, Happy gave his obligatory hum of acknowledgement, and turned all of his senses back to the road ahead, content to ignore anything else Tony may say over the course of that car ride, and making a mental note to warn Pepper of the dangers that lay in the land of fluffy toys and plushies.

A/N: Plot... plot is for people with plans. Since I don't have a plan, I don't need a plot! :) makes perfect sense to me.