A/N: This dragged me out of bed this morning. Kicking and screaming. At 2:36. I might resent it for that. Just a little bit.

Chaptah 4: Mr. Bun Breathes Fiahhh!

"Go go go!" When Tony Stark came tearing out of the little brick building where therapy was hosted like a bat out of hell, Happy Hogan was not particularly concerned. Despite Tony missing a shoe, his tie, and the two pairs of sunglasses he'd walked in there this morning with, Happy's level of concern was still not terribly high.

This might be because Happy had seen so many things go south in his time doing various jobs for Tony, not to mention all the incidents during his professional boxer career. Or maybe it was because he was well aware, at this point, that when Tony was around, there was only so long before things did not "go smoothly." This, of course, means that wherever Tony is, has been, or will be, something has or will deteriorate into a steaming heap of caffeinated-geniusified induced mess.

It was probably the latter of these reasons that Happy had preemptively had his foot on the gas pedal and the key in his hand for the past hour and a half.

So it was that as Tony came running, haphazardly and lopsided, towards the car, Happy carefully placed his signed copy of Freakonomics into the glove compartment next to his knitting implements and can of (just in case) mace, unconcerned.

A moment later, his boss threw open the backseat door and hurled himself in, crying, "Step on it Happy!"

Looking back and seeing the massive, live, stuffed rabbit that appeared to be glowing (possibly radioactively) chasing Tony that definitely had not been there before, Happy had no problems doing just that.

As they rocketed down the street away from the therapy building, and the rabbit, Happy forced himself to stop thinking about said rabbit and settle into "NYC Driver" mode. Behind him, he could hear Tony grumbling to himself as he got situated in the backseat.

"Operation 'Placate Steve With Therapy' is officially FUBAR." Happy had to wonder if that was because the building was currently in the process of exploding, or because going to the sessions was adding to his boss's already problematic PTSD, which the therapy was, ironically, supposed to resolve. And on that note, did he really want to know what happened?

Well, it appeared he didn't get a choice on the latter matter.

"The Pixie came back."

"Huh," said Happy, intelligently.

"The Pixie came back," Tony reiterated helpfully. "You know, the one who disappeared a month ago? The potentially homicidal mini-genius with long pointy ears and creepy purple eyes who appears to be suffering from Progeria and Munchausen Disorder? That one. Well, she's back, and not happy... and apparently a Pixie. Or so I gathered from her ranting."

Alright... well, that wasn't confusing, or disturbing.

"Ranting?" Happy asked. It may be best, he thought, to just let Tony explain this one.

"Yup." Said his boss, now recovered from his aforementioned flying leap into the backseat. "She came back to Therapy, with some fancy tech and minions. Not fancy minions, just tech... actually, the minions seemed a bit dull, with all the times she had to give them her orders. She should really invest in some smarter minions."

Tony paused for a moment here, possibly to consider places in which a possibly evil little person could get herself some decent minions to follow her around and do her bidding properly like the tiny genius she was. Happy himself knew a few places. He'd been in the business long enough, he knew things.

Happy pulled himself out of his contemplation when Tony continued his story, feeling that it would probably be wise not to tune this one out. "She didn't come back to actually be in the group, though, she just wanted to wipe it off the face of the planet it for wasting her time... not sure why she came in the first place, then, but whatever. So she brought her minions, and tried to destroy it." Looking back, Happy couldn't see the explosion any more, but Tony seen it, apparently, as he followed that with, "Though maybe she has succeeded now. Or that might have been Harry."

"Hold on," said Happy, "Harry the British Snake Guy? What does he have to do with it?" Following that train of thought, what is a Brit with a stuffed snake taking therapy in the US for anyway? Happy set that thought aside to consider later, instead turning back to Tony's explanation.

"Well," said Tony, "when Koboi—that's the Pixie—came blasting in with her minions, he pointed a stick at her—"

"And the snake?" Happy couldn't resist it.

"Yes, the snake too, but the stick actually did something. It shot yellow lighting at her! Yellow lightning, Happy, from a stick! Along with some butchered Latin, but that's not important. I want me a lightning stick." Here Tony paused to ruminate over his desire to have a stick with which to shoot lightning at people, then kept on with the story. "Anyway, Harry did that, with the snake and the Latin lightning stick, and then Percy jumped into the fray."

Percy, as far as Happy knew, never went anywhere without his trusty ballpoint pen, and hated elevators with a burning passion. This couldn't go well.

"Percy produced a baseball bat from... somewhere, actually, I don't know where he got it. Maybe it was in the flowerpot. Or the pocket dimension."

"Pocket dimension?!" Happy may be a bit worried now. Just slightly.

"Oh, yeah, did I not say that? Koboi opened this rift thingy, and there must've been a dimension in there, or something, 'cause all sorts of wacky things started crawling out of it."

"...right." Said Happy, "Alright, so the baseballs bat, possibly originating from a flower pot or a pocket dimension..."

"Right, so he attempts to stab the minions with the bat—why you would stab someone with a bat, I don't know—shouting something about glitter, and breath mints? I have no clue, but he did it."

"Huh," Said Happy, "what did the others do?"

"Well, Sears tried to—"

"Sears?"

"Counselor."

"I thought her name was Sera."

"It is. Sears tried to call security, who were probably on the way already—don't know how they wouldn't be, with all the noise we were making—but she got knocked out by one of the minions, Mervin, maybe? The rest of them ran screaming. Except Derkins, she stayed, and threw Mr. Bun at the pocket dimension."

Happy, thinking about the massive possibility radio-active rabbit that had been chasing Tony, was pretty sure he knew how well that worked out.

"Right, so... what did you do?"

"Me?" Said Tony, "I got out of there as fast as my legs could take me."

Right, Happy remembered, the suit, or the one that Tony used most, was busy self-repairing after Tony had crashed it into a massive billboard that no one had any idea how he hadn't seen that day before, resulting in extensive damage, thankfully not to Tony himself.

"So, are you going to call the Avengers in for this one?" Glancing at his rear-view mirror, Happy did a double take. The rabbit was growing. He could see it's ears over the roof tops.

Tony pulled his head back in the window, and said, a bit breathlessly, "If they aren't already on it, I think I'll sign them all up for the eye doctor."

"And the ears, too," he added as an afterthought, having to shout over the noise of screaming and fire trucks as the Mr. Bun made himself know to the world at large, by bathing the Big Apple in fire.

Why could the rabbit breath fire? Happy didn't know, he just drove.

A/N: that was... long. Hope you enjoyed it!