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No one gave Steve a second glance as he crossed the parking lot to his bike, and without further hesitation he settled his helmet on his head, checked the straps on his pack, and started the process of rejoining traffic on the main thoroughfare. He wasn't in the same rush that some of the drivers seemed to be so it took him longer than it might have otherwise, but at the same time once he got into traffic he had no idea why everyone else had been in such a hurry because it wasn't like anyone was going anywhere fast. There had been motor vehicles in his time, sure, but the numbers had been nothing on this scale, and he brought a foot down to balance his bike as the line of cars came to a halt. Despite his stop he'd expected to reach the tower by mid-afternoon, but at this rate it would be closer to sundown.

Traffic coming out of the city was moving a bit more quickly, and Steve tensed as one of the oncoming cars cut in front of another with nowhere near enough space to spare. The other driver was able to hit his brakes just fast enough to avoid a collision—and his horn immediately after—but the combination of the sudden smell of rubber and his destination brought Steve's mind back to a topic he'd been trying not to think about since his decision to return to New York.

When he'd first found himself in the wrong time, he'd been torn between the desire to look up his old friends and the fear of what he'd find if he did, and while he'd never been one to let fear stop him, it didn't change the hurt he'd felt as his fears had been proven right one by one. The majority of his team, his friends, were gone, among them Howard Stark. Several men had been lost in combat either in the last days of World War II or in the other wars that had followed, and if he couldn't help but feel that he should have been there to lead them, they'd been soldiers and had known the risks they were taking. Most of the rest had died of various age-related illnesses…it didn't change his feelings of loneliness, but at least he could console himself with the fact that they'd made marks on the world and were survived by children and grandchildren. But the idea that the best pilot in the eastern theatre had been lost in a car accident….

He shook his head, forcing his attention back to the slow-moving traffic in front of him. It still seemed mad. Howard was among those who'd left behind a child though, one who was far more present than those of the rest of his unit members. Or maybe 'present' was the wrong word for it, but it had been easy for Steve to find information on Tony Stark—it would have been hard for him to avoid it—because Tony had a media trail a mile long. And every comment, every editorial, every photograph of him showed the same thing: a brash, flashy, irritating man that had Steve all but gritting his teeth in disapproval. Steve's opinion hadn't exactly been improved when he'd seen the SHIELD files and battle footage, redacted as he knew it had been, and then upon meeting Tony it had felt like the worst of everything had been confirmed. He could fight, sure, at least when he was in his metal suit, and there was no denying his intelligence, but he was arrogant, obnoxious, clearly unable to work as part of a team…he'd hacked classified files while he was supposed to be tracking their target for goodness sake!

And he wasn't Howard.

As much as Steve still wanted to deny it, as much as it had been a solid month into his trip around the US before the idea had even occurred to him, the fact that Tony was here and Howard wasn't had had as much to do with his instant dislike of Tony than anything else. Oh, the fact that Tony was loud and arrogant and self-centered certainly hadn't helped, but Steve's opinion of him had been pretty solidly formed before they'd even met.

Still, despite the sniping and rude comments that had passed between them they'd fought well together, and Tony had proved that he wasn't at all the waste of space that Steve had first taken him for. He still couldn't say that they'd end up friends in the end, but they were teammates, and while he wasn't sure how Tony really felt despite the invitation, Steve wanted to try to start fresh. To do that he had to separate Tony from his memories of Howard, and something that brought Howard so sharply to mind wouldn't help.

Fortunately, between the slow traffic and the fact that there were no more near-accidents in his view he was able to shift his mind to other topics by the time he reached the tower, and when he did he was glad that he was on a motorcycle because finding a place to park a car would have been impossible. Still, the majority of the people he passed were exiting rather than entering and of the few going in he was the only one to approach the older woman sitting at the desk marked 'Reception.'

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, looking up from her computer screen.

"Yes, ma'am. I'd like to speak to Tony Stark."

"Tony Stark," she repeated.

He got the distinct impression that she thought he was mocking her, and he nodded and answered with all the gravity that he could muster. "Yes, ma'am."

She stared at him for a moment longer and then, in the same tone, "I'm sorry but Mr. Stark is busy at the moment."

"Oh." He hadn't even thought of that, and he probably should have. Obviously Tony had responsibilities, and it wasn't as though Steve had done him the courtesy of letting him know that he was planning to visit. He winced slightly. Maybe he'd been on the road for a little too long; he could almost hear his mother clicking her tongue over his display of poor manners.

"May I have your name, please?" the woman asked.

"Rogers. Steve Rogers." He realized as she typed something into her computer that she was preparing to take a message and opened his mouth to tell her not to bother—he could always try again tomorrow—when surprise flickered across her face.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize. You can go right up."

"What? But I thought Tony was busy?"

"He is, but you're flagged as one of the people who's to be allowed access to the tower at any time."

"I…oh."

"You didn't know?" She gave him a sympathetic look and murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'just like that man. "Well, why don't you take the private elevator up, and JARVIS will help get you sorted out? And if there's anything that he can't help you with, you can just come back down here and I'll see what I can do."

JARVIS being Tony's computer as Steve recalled. Or…he was something more than a computer, somehow, but Steve had never been quite clear on what. "Thank you, ma'am, I'll do that. Where would I find the elevator?"

"Right back through here." She gestured, and a panel that he'd thought was part of the wall behind her desk slid sideways.

"Thank you," Steve repeated.

The door closed after him as he stepped inside, and he turned, realizing that there were no buttons.

"Hello, Captain Rogers, it's good to see you again," said a voice tinged with an English accent, and Steve felt the elevator began to rise.

"I…." Steve twisted in a circle again, but no one had magically appeared behind him. "JARVIS?" he guessed.

"Yes, sir. I understand that you wish to speak to Mr. Stark, but he's currently in his lab with Colonel Rhodes and has given orders that he's not to be disturbed unless the world is about to end. Under the circumstances, I'm inclined to believe that he was quite serious."

Steve nodded. Not that he had any idea who Colonel Rhodes was, but if Tony said that he didn't want to be disturbed, Steve had no reason not to respect that. "That's perfectly fine, but is there somewhere that I could wait for him until he's finished? I was hoping that I could stay here for a week or two."

"Of course, there's no need to wait on Mr. Stark's approval for that. I can have a suite opened for you immediately and will inform him of your arrival when he leaves the lab."

"Thank you, but please don't go to any trouble on my account. All I need is a bed." Honestly, he didn't even need that, but he doubted that camping in the tower lobby would be appreciated.

"It's no trouble." A pause. "Are you certain that there is nothing else that you require? My records indicate that you had a motorcycle when you left."

"I still do. It's parked outside."

"May I suggest that you move it into the garage? Given the traffic congestion, the police are rather free with tickets in this area of the city."

"That would be swell." He had seen the signs limiting parking hours, and while he thought the bike was safe enough where it was, there was no sense in leaving it outside if there was a better place for it. "Would it be all right if I do that now?"

"That might be wise." The elevator came to a stop and then reversed direction, and when it came to a halt Steve wasn't surprised to find himself underground. He'd seen the streets, and that was about the only place that there could be any parking. It was larger than he'd expected, but that made it easy to find a spot for his motorcycle, and when it was safely stored he slung his pack over his shoulder and re-entered the elevator. "JARVIS? Are you still…here?"

"I am. May I assume that you are unfamiliar with artificial intelligences?"

"Very," Steve said. That sort of thing had been science fiction in his time, and he had a sneaking suspicion that JARVIS' abilities went far beyond what even those stories had dreamed.

"Well, to put it simply I am a computer-based intelligence with access to all areas of the tower—in fact to all Stark properties—at all times, and except in very limited circumstances my processing power is more than enough to field any number of requests at once. On the lower, public levels you'll find that there are a number of human assistants for the comfort of those accustomed to such things, but on the private levels most requests will go through me. Simply say my name and I will hear you." The elevator came to a halt. "Your rooms are through the door in the back left corner, and the door is keyed to your approach."

"Thank you," Steve said.

"You're most welcome."

The area the elevator opened onto was clearly some sort of common room with a kitchen tucked off to one side and a sitting area arranged in the center. The far wall was all glass with a view out over the city, and Steve took a minute to admire it before turning for the door that JARVIS had indicated.

It slid open obligingly at his approach, and Steve stopped in the doorway and stared. He'd just asked for a room with a bed, not…this. The door had opened onto another sitting area—not as large as the main one, maybe, but still more space than a single person could ever use with an extension of the same spectacular view—a small kitchen of his own, a bathroom…. He shook his head and checked the far door and finally found the bed he'd been looking for, but even that room was almost as large as the barracks he'd shared with his men had been and there was yet another bath attached. Along with what was probably supposed to be a closet but was another room in and of itself to his eyes. "JARVIS?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?"

"I—thank you, I mean, I appreciate it, but I really don't need all this."

"This is the smallest sized suite available in the tower."

Oh. "Well, then, thank you again," he repeated, giving in and lowering his pack to the floor. "Would it be possible to get a map of restaurants near here?" The long drive into the city meant that he'd missed his usual early supper, and his stomach was starting to complain about it. He could always go out and wander around himself until he found one—in all likelihood he'd be doing some exploring tomorrow just to get the lay of the land since he hadn't precisely had time during the battle—but right now he'd rather have an actual destination.

"Certainly." The television turned on abruptly and a map appeared on its surface. "Restaurants within a mile are marked in red; if you touch the associated icon, it will display a menu. Or you may feel free to order whatever you'd like delivered. There is a manned kitchen in the tower, but it normally only caters breakfast and lunch needs."

This time Steve couldn't halt his headshake. The idea of having food delivered when there was nothing wrong with his legs was even more ridiculous than multiple baths.

"Dr. Banner has left the lab and is on the way back to his suite," JARVIS volunteered suddenly. "Would you like me to inform him that you're here? He generally prefers to eat in, and I'm certain that he wouldn't mind if you joined him."

"Bruce stayed in New York?" Steve knew that Bruce had planned to accompany Tony back to the tower after Thor and Loki returned to Asgard, but he'd been under the impression that it was a temporary situation. "Yes, please, do."

"Right away."

For lack of anything else to do Steve found himself staring at the map for several minutes. Whatever else happened, it seemed that he wouldn't be lacking for food here, but somehow he doubted that any of these places would take labor in trade.

A knock interrupted his thoughts, and he turned. "I…come in?" he called.

He didn't know if his words were audible through the door, but the panel slid aside obligingly a moment later.

"Hey, Cap, I didn't know you were back in New York," Bruce greeted with a wide grin.

Steve found himself smiling just as widely in return, and he reached out to grip the proffered hand firmly. It was definitely good to see a familiar face. "I just got in a little while ago. Tony said that if I ever needed a place to stay I could come here, and…well, it's time that I stopped wandering."

"He'll be glad to see you," Bruce said. "Unfortunately he's holed up in his lab at the moment and I'm not sure when he's going to be finished. JARVIS wouldn't even let me knock so I'm guessing it's pretty important."

Steve nodded.

"I was just planning to make spaghetti for dinner, but JARVIS said that you haven't eaten either. You're welcome to join me if you'd like, or we could go out somewhere."

"Spaghetti would be great," Steve said.

"Spaghetti it is, then. And I'm actually your neighbor. My suite is just across the lounge."

Steve matched Bruce's pace through the common room, nodding as Bruce indicated what the other doors besides the elevator were for—four more went to suites, another off to each side and then one on each side of the elevator all of which were currently unoccupied, plus a smaller public bath and what Bruce referred to as a telecom office—and then he found himself entering a suite that was almost the mirror image of his. This one looked a little more lived in with a jacket and coat hung on the hook by the door, a stack of books on the counter, and a few odds and ends sitting on the shelves, but it was still far larger than it needed to be.

"Is this really the kind of place that people live in in this century?" Steve had to ask as Bruce headed for the kitchen area and began digging around in one of the lower cabinets. The few motel rooms he'd stayed in on his journey had been smaller, as had his SHIELD-supplied apartment, but the former had been deliberately temporary and the latter mimicking something from his time so he had no idea what was normal for the average citizen.

Bruce barked a laugh. "Not even close. This is Tony's idea of a small apartment. Believe me, it could be worse. He actually wanted JARVIS to move me into one of the unused floors of the tower so don't be surprised if he tries the same with you."

"A whole floor just for me? What would I do with that much space?"

"I have no idea. I swear, sometimes it feels like I'm giving myself culture shock every time I travel between here and the clinic in Calcutta." An entire bag of pasta went into the pot that Bruce had filled with water so either he remembered Steve's metabolism, had a similar issue because of his alter-ego, or some combination of the two. "Still, there really isn't anything smaller in the tower. I looked. Temperature medium-high, please."

For a moment Steve thought that the last was directed at him, but then the burner under the pot Bruce had just placed on the stove came to life. "The stove does what you tell it?" he had to ask.

"Most things here are voice controlled. You get used to it. Oh, have a seat, please." He waved at the table. "Sorry, I don't get many guests. What would you like to drink? I have milk, water, and apple juice, but I don't drink much so I'm afraid the alcohol is all up at Tony's."

"Water is fine," Steve assured him. "You've been back to India, then?"

"Three times, now. I try and go back once a month or so and help out where I can, but it's not as critical as it could be since Doctors Without Borders finally found an actual medical doctor—which I am not; my second degree is in biology, not medicine—willing to settle down and run the clinic." He shook his head as he handed one glass to Steve and kept the other for himself, setting another pot on the stove and pouring a jar of what looked like meat sauce into it. "Temperature low, timer ten minutes." Something beeped in response, and Bruce picked up his glass and joined Steve at the table. "I was originally planning to go back and stay back anyway, once things calmed down here, but…." Another shake, and this time his teeth flashed in a quick smile. "Tony is very good with the bribery."

"Money?" Steve frowned. Granted that he didn't know Bruce well, but that was not what he would have expected.

"No, no. Or, well, I suppose it all comes down to that eventually, but I meant the labs. He told me once that they were Candy Land, but that doesn't even begin to describe it. Every bit of technology that you can think of right there at your fingertips, and if there's some tool you're imagining that doesn't exist yet, Tony can probably build it. It would take a scientist with more willpower than me to just walk away." A pause, and then in a lower tone despite the fact that there was no one but Steve here to hear him, "Plus, this room is Hulk-proofed as best Tony and I could manage—if you look, you'll see that the walls have reinforcing panels that yours don't and the windows have an extra layer of flex-shield over them as well—so it's as safe as anywhere."

Steve nodded in understanding.

"So what about you? I know you were planning a road trip, but where did you actually go?" Bruce asked in a more normal tone as he leaned back in his chair. "Did you see the Grand Canyon? That's one place that I've always wanted to visit, but somehow I've never had the time."

"I did," Steve said. "It was incredible. As was Yellowstone." The touring he'd done as Captain America had been concentrated around cities since bigger populations meant more people buying war bonds so he'd enjoyed the opportunity to take some of his time to visit the national parks. "And did you know that Mount St. Helens erupted?"

It wasn't until Steve caught Bruce hiding a yawn that he realized that the sky outside had darkened—apparently the lights were among the things that were automatic in this place—and he was starting to feel tired himself. A glance at the clock told him that they'd managed to talk for several hours after the spaghetti had been done away with, covering both Steve's road trip and Bruce's visits to the clinic as well as his current line of research. Well, Bruce's current line of research greatly simplified, Steve suspected, but he was looking forward to taking Bruce up on his invitation to visit the labs. He'd been so concerned about the Hulk getting loose before that it seemed that Tony wasn't the only teammate that he'd underestimated.

Bruce paused to smother another yawn at the end of a story about the last time he'd been in Chicago for a conference—several years ago, before the Hulk—a follow-up to Steve's comment about visiting the previously-Sears-now-Willis Tower in a Chicago that had grown exponentially since his time, and Steve shook his head. "You know, it's getting late. I should probably be getting back to my rooms."

"Yeah, sleep sounds pretty good," Bruce said, pushing himself to his feet. "Especially since...wow, it's past eleven. Uh, just leave your dishes by the sink and I'll take care of them later."

Steve did as he asked and then nodded politely as he turned for the door. "Thank you again for dinner."

"It was no problem. I'm glad you're back in New York. And I'll see you tomorrow. If I'm not here when you wake up, JARVIS can direct you down to my lab." He paused. "Hopefully we'll see Tony tomorrow too. This isn't the first time that he's locked himself in his lab for one thing or another, but I'd really have expected him to drop in to say hello by now."