Author's Note: Next part! It's a long one I wanted to cover the entirety of the Avengers movie just want to set the scene for the rest of the story. I promise the romance is coming, this one is really a slow build will adjust text to reflect.
Thanks so much for all the support, and to my wonderful fabulous ravingbeauty for all her work and making me look so good! Enjoy!
That Has Such People
Part III – Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
"Sir, Agent Coulson is on the phone," JARVIS announced, his voice smooth and unwelcome.
Steve groaned as he welded the last of the pipeline. "I'm not in, JARVIS," he replied before switching channels.
"Peg, we ready?"
This time it was a woman's silky voice that replied, tinted with British flavor, "Indeed Steven, we are ready."
Grinning, Iron Man finished his work before launching out of the water and back into the air.
"Sir, Agent Coulson is insisting-"
Steve snorted, cutting him off. "He's always insisting on something," the billionaire mumbled as he touched down atop the new Rogers-Stark tower, a beacon in the New York City skyline.
"Sir," the AI tried again.
"Mute," he snapped, glaring at the ceiling.
Now free of his armor, the billionaire ran a hand through short blond hair as he descended the stairs. "How we looking?" he asked his CEO, joining her at the projection table.
"It's beautiful, Steven," she breathed, turning to him with a grin. The normally well-dressed woman casual tonight in a loose blouse and denim shorts. Thick dark hair curled becomingly about her shoulders as red lips quirked in a smile at her former employer.
"Of course it is, I designed it," he said, tossing her a wink.
Arching a perfect brow, she turned back to the schematics hovering before them. Standing side-by-side, they were just getting into a discussion of the latest improvements when the elevator doors dinged open and a very unwelcome figure stepped out.
"Security breach," Steve said, narrowing blue eyes at the Agent.
"Sorry, sir. He does have override codes." JARVIS didn't sound all that sorry.
He turned his blue glare on Peggy. "Traitor," he accused.
The woman smiled at him indulgently, "SHIELD only wants to help."
Dismissing the petulant man, she turned to greet the newcomer. "Hello, Philip. How are you?" she asked, coming forward to kiss each cheek.
"Doing well, Peggy, and you?" he asked, smiling at her charmingly.
Steve frowned, "When did you become Philip? What do you want, Agent?"
All business now, Agent Coulson focused on the owner of RSI. "There is a bit of situation, Mr. Rogers."
The blond snorted and crossed his arms, "My official consulting hours are between four and six, every other Thursday."
Coulson, as always, did not look the least bit amused as he held out a black file.
Carefully Steve looked from the unassuming object to the agent and back, growing worried. This could only mean bad things. He hesitantly accepted the file, his expression turning grim.
"What's going on, Steven?" Peggy asked softly, looking between them.
Without a word, he turned and headed for his holo screens. Deftly opening the file, Steve sent the digital information skittering across the monitors, watching as a seemingly endless stream of data poured forth.
Keen blue eyes moved fluidly between the projections. A man with a bow stood back to back with a familiar redhead. A giant green monster voiced his fury and a man with a hammer called forth lightening. The last, though, captured his attention fully; it was grainy black and white footage of a man with a shield.
Steve felt his breath hitch; they had found him?
"I thought the program was terminated," Steve said, eyes darting back to the impassive agent.
"It was. As far as SHIELD is concerned this program never existed."
Margaret Carter wasn't CEO of RS Industries for nothing; she knew something big and ugly was rearing its head. "I think I'll head out to D.C. tonight. Philip, can you drop me at the airport?"
The agent nodded and the woman moved to the blond man's side, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. "Be safe, Steven," she pleaded.
Steve gave her a distracted flippant smile, "Aren't I always?"
-#-#-#-
"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't smoke on the jet," the placid voice reminded him gently. Tony Stark wrinkled his nose, self-consciously removing the cigarette from his mouth.
"Right. Sorry, habit," he mumbled. With a frown creasing his brow, he returned the cigarette to the pack unlit. It was one of the more frustrating and annoying quirks of this new time; there were only certain places you could smoke. Apparently it was bad for you. While Tony wasn't quite sure he believed that yet, he reluctantly recognized it was the way of things now.
"I imagine this time takes some getting used to," the other spoke hesitantly, offering him a small conciliatory smile.
Tony eyed the man curiously; he'd introduced himself as Agent Coulson, another one of SHIELD's seemingly endless supply of agents.
"That's putting it mildly," Tony returned with a sad grin, his eyes falling away from the keen stare of the other.
Tony had seen the term "culture shock" among the readings he'd been doing ever since SHIELD had cornered him in Times Square. Truthfully, though, the term didn't even come close to touching what he had.
Secretly he was thankful he'd been engineered a super solider, because he honestly didn't think his mind and body would have been able to handle it otherwise. Still, all things considered, he thought he was adapting rather well. There was just so much more of everything now, and for every timid step he took, he was also making leaps and bounds.
"I don't want to sound to weird or anything, but I'm sort of a big fan… I mean, I have some of your original comics," the agent blurted suddenly into the awkward silence.
Tony curiously raised a brow at him, a half grin on his face. "The real thing not living up to expectations?" he asked dryly, not all that offended; he was used to it by now. People had certain expectations of what Captain America would be like, a persona the world had come to expect. Tony was all too aware of how the comic books portrayed him… Hell, he'd been the one drawing them half the time.
"No!" the Agent blurted then belatedly realized the actual question before backtracking. "I mean, yes…"
Tony took pity on him, "It's ok, Agent Coulson. I'm used to it." He offered the man a tight smile and the other man looked torn between relief and embarrassment.
Minutes later they were touching down and Tony stepped off to the hustle and bustle of a carrier ship. Intrigued, he glanced around, fingers itching to put pencil to paper. Something about this time made him yearn to draw almost constantly.
Dark eyes trying to memorize every detail, he paused as he spotted a man dazedly stumbling around on the deck. He mentally called up the personnel files he'd been forced to read.
"Dr. Banner," he called, making the connection. Fury had been very thorough in his briefing, including the man who had tried to replicate Erskine's serum with rather disastrous consequences. Tony was secretly dying to meet the Hulk. Holding out his hand, he offered the doctor a smile.
"Oh hello, do I know you?" the scientist asked, peering at the tall, dark haired man curiously.
"Captain Tony Stark," he said shaking the man's hand.
Hazel eyes blinked in surprise. "Captain America," he said with an almost awed grin. "I didn't recognize you without the…" Banner trailed off looking embarrassed.
"Without being wrapped in the American flag?" he joked dryly, earning him a half grin.
The doctor tugged off his glasses then gestured around. "I guess this must be pretty new then," he said.
Tony chuckled, "No, this is actually rather familiar."
"Gentlemen, I think you'd better step inside," the redheaded woman, Natasha, interrupted. Tony reckoned she was a dame not to be messed with.
Heeding her warning, Tony turned with Banner and the pair fell into step as they followed Natasha to the waiting Nick Fury. All the while, Tony was trying very hard not to gawk at everything around him. When it came technology, he had always been far too curious for his own good. Howard had constantly told him so, usually while he was chastising him for fooling around with things in his lab.
The thought of his brother brought an acute pang of homesickness and loneliness with it. One of the first things Tony had done in this new time was look up his loved ones. Pepper had died several years ago, an old woman, married, with children and grandchildren… He hoped she had lived a happy life.
Howard had neither married nor had children, tragically dying before his time. Tony had been heartbroken; his brother had deserved every happiness in the world. The life he'd led had seemed to him a far too lonely one.
The last had been Joe Rogers, his brother's partner. Sadly both he and his wife had passed away in a tragic accident. Joe, however, had a son… a son who was a superhero. Tony really couldn't wait to meet the "Iron Man."
"Welcome to the SHIELD Helicarrier, built by Steve Rogers," Fury formally welcomed the two as they stepped onto the bridge. Tony perked up; of course he had built it. The son of Joe Rogers had to be a genius.
Suitably impressed, the man from the past wandered over to one of the monitors, consciously clasping his hands behind his back. All the while Howard's voice was ringing in his head,
Tony, don't touch… For the love of god, don't touch anything!
Ignoring the sad pull in his chest, Tony curiously studied the fascinating technology before him. Fury was still talking, explaining the finer details of the ship to Doctor Banner. Tony knew he should be paying attention, he really should… but there was a button.
Buttons had always been and probably always would be his downfall – especially in this new world that seemed to be made up of nothing but – and this one was calling his name. He surreptitiously glanced at the others from the corner of his eye. Slowly he reached out one large digit.
"I wouldn't, Cap," Tony froze at the Director's reprimand, a flush creeping up his neck at getting caught. "I have no idea what it does, but knowing Rogers it could make the whole damn ship fall out of the sky."
Tony tried to smother his smile; that sounded like something Howard and Joe would have done. They'd once put a highly sticky epoxy in his helmet; he'd had to shave his head after that one.
Hands behind his back once more, he gave Fury his full attention, wearing the most innocent face he could muster. Bruce gave him a warm smile.
-#-#-#-
Captain America couldn't stop staring.
He probably should, it was rather rude, but honestly he just couldn't. Tony had never seen anything like it in his life. The file photos really hadn't done it any justice, for in reality Iron Man was something indescribable.
He'd been going head to head with Loki, and truthfully enjoying it. This was familiar; this was something he could do. He could fight, even if he hadn't been keen on getting back to Germany so soon. Still, it was nice to feel useful again, even if it wasn't going as well as he'd hoped.
He was in the middle of reformulating his strategy when suddenly there was music, or what he guessed passed for music these days.
A new voice spoke over the device in his ear – and wasn't that the bee's knees! If only they'd had these "communication links" in his day.
"You miss me, Agent Romanov?"
The voice was pleasant, deep. It got Tony's attention immediately.
He had the barest of seconds to glance up when suddenly someone, or something, landed beside him. Red and gold glittered as the man in armor straightened, arms coming up as he veritably bristled with weapons.
"Your move, Reindeer Games," he said, voice sounding tinny and different through the metal helmet.
Slowly Loki held his arms up as Tony tried not to stare at the man in the metal suit.
"Mr. Rogers," he ventured.
"Captain," the other returned.
Now heading back to the carrier, prisoner in tow, Tony was able to get a better look at the suit and, more intriguing, the man inside.
Steve Rogers was what, in his day, they would have called a looker. Short blond hair and clear, intelligent blue eyes that didn't appear to miss a thing.
Tony felt that damnable blush creeping up his neck as those intense blues turned to him, roving over his form. The dark haired man fought down the urge to cross his arms, unconsciously straightening his spine.
At the same moment it was taking everything Steve had to play it cool and aloof while his emotions were in utter upheaval. He was meeting his childhood hero, a legend – the man he'd worshipped since he was a kid. He could still remember Uncle Howard's stories, hazy and indistinct, detailing incredible tales of heroics.
At the same time, however, this was the man his father had spent his life searching for – the man he'd never been able to live up to.
It was a frustrating, confusing ball of emotions, and he did not want to deal with it. So he did what he did best – he closed down.
"So you're him, Captain America," he all but scoffed. Steve had to admit the man wasn't quite what he'd imagined. Sure he was big, tall, and impressive looking. He had a good five inches on Steve himself, but he wasn't the apple pie, all-American he would expect. Even wearing the red, white, and blue, he kind of came off dangerous and badass. Steve wasn't at all sure how to deal with that.
"And you're the amazing Iron Man," the big dark haired man returned, his grin far too sarcastic for Steve's liking.
Frowning, the billionaire lifted a hand and pointed, ready to let the man have it, when he was shocked into silence. Without hesitation a red-gloved hand grabbed his armored arm curiously, moving it up and down, dark eyes fascinated.
"What are you…" Steve began, stunned, trailing off as the Cap moved on to examine his chest, touching the blue light curiously.
Steve jerked away instinctively. "What the hell, man? What's your problem?" he snapped.
Tony dropped his hands, clutching them behind his back, his neck beginning to flush as he tried to wrack his brain for something to say. He'd just been so curious about the armor. A sudden crack of thunder however, diverted any of the excuses coming to his mind. Tony turned towards their prisoner, catching the god's flinch.
"Afraid of a little lightening?" he asked, puzzled by the god's suddenly worried look.
"It's what comes after that worries me," he returned, glancing towards the windows.
Brows knitting in confusion, Tony was about to demand an answer when all hell broke loose.
-#-#-#-
Tony was out of his depth.
It wasn't really a new feeling to him, though. Howard and Joe had talked circles around him for years, and he'd long ago given up trying to keep up with the brilliant men. Usually he'd amuse himself by sketching them when they really got going.
Now some seventy years in the future, he was getting that same feeling watching Steve Rogers interact with Dr. Banner. Still, he couldn't be all that mad because Steve was something to see when he was on a roll. It made him ache for home, for the people he'd lost.
Which would perhaps explain why he found himself following the two men into the lab. It was at once both heart wrenchingly familiar and completely alien to him. Melancholy and intrigued, he listened the pair as they argued and bantered, grinning unintentionally when Steve gave Bruce a sharp poke.
"Not sure that's a good idea," he interjected, automatically fishing out a cigarette from his pack. Clamping the stick between his lips he was pulling out his lighter when a strangled noise had him glancing up. The two geniuses were gawking at him, wide-eyed.
"That's a worse idea," Steve returned and Tony felt his neck heat.
"Right, sorry," he grumbled mulishly as he put the lighter away. "Keep forgetting."
Running an irritated hand through his hair, he cleared his throat self-consciously and changed the topic. "So, you can find the tesseract?" he asked.
Bruce looked about to answer when Steve beat him to it.
"We'll find it, only a matter of time. The question of the hour, though, is what is Fury's interest in this?" the blond asked, rounding one of the machines that looked like something right out a science fiction novel.
Intrigued, Tony watched him manipulate the thing. He couldn't help but notice the man; now stripped down to a black t-shirt and jeans, the material of his shirt provided a taunting glimpse at the light beneath.
"Fury?" Tony asked, perplexed.
"Yeah, Cap. Something stinks here. You think so, too. Don't you, Bruce?" Steve asked, turning on the scientist.
The rather docile man shrugged noncommittally, "Look, I just want to do my work…"
Tony felt that damnable curiosity flaring up in him again. "Bruce?" he asked.
Sighing, the scientist looked at him over the top of his glasses. "Come on, Tony. I mean, doesn't it seem a little hinky to you?"
"Doesn't matter. I have JARVIS cracking their files, so we'll know shortly," Steve said airily, eyes focused on the screen.
Humming contemplatively, Tony nodded before turning on his heels; they were making a lot of sense.
-#-#-#-
"Jesus fucking Christ!"
Steve nearly fell out of the sky in shock.
"Stupid, fucking, cock sucking -"
Although there was really nothing funny about the Helicarrier plummeting out of the sky, Steve had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. And it was completely Captain America's fault. Apparently the paragon of American virtue cussed like a sailor.
Steve, who'd been there, done that, was mighty impressed. The litany of filth spilling from that man's mouth was enough to make a grown man blush. Captain America, as Steve was learning, had two very different sides to him.
"Cap," he called, interrupting his current tirade. "I need to get the supercooling conductor system back online, clear out the debris-"
"Speak fucking English," Tony cut in.
"Listen, just get over to that control panel and tell me what relays are on the overload position," Steve ordered as he hovered, hauling debris out of the way, keeping half an ear out as Tony grumbled and cursed his way over.
"Got it," Cap said before another blasphemy fell from his lips.
"What does it look like?" Steve grunted, pushing things back into place.
"How the hell should I know? I'm from 1945, it looks like a bunch of goddamn blinking lights."
Steve couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up this time, "Well, you're not wrong."
Tony felt a grin pulling at his own lips; he was beginning to like Iron Man. Sure he was prickly, standoffish, and rude, but there was something about him. Shaking his head, he tried to focus. There'd be time for that later, after they saved the ship… and the world.
Steve managed to walk him through the process before making a rather insane announcement.
"I'll need to start the rotors manually," he said, more to himself than Tony.
"Right. Wait... what? That'll tear you apart."
"I've got a small window where the polarity can be-"
"English," Tony interrupted impatiently.
"When I say to pull that red lever, you do it."
Tony glanced across the empty space to the spot where the lever stood. "Got it." He took a running leap and hit the deck, tucking and rolling, right into the line of enemy fire. Surging to his feet, he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, of battle. This he knew, this was familiar…
He could hear Steve mumbling in his ear as he dodged towards the enemy, managing to flatten one before another appeared, guns blazing. Cursing, he ducked, formulating an alternative plan.
A sudden terrible grinding sound reminded him Steve was kick starting the motor. As his attention wavered, the whole carrier shook, sending Tony pitching backwards, falling into empty space. He twisted in midair and grabbed a trailing wire, holding grimly on as he dangled over nothingness.
"Ok, Tony. Pull that lever," came the voice in his ear.
The super solider didn't reply as he hauled himself slowly upwards, trying to ignore his rising panic.
"Tony, any time now."
He grunted, sweat breaking out on his brow, "Need a minute."
There was a muffled curse, "That's not good..."
Tony pushed harder, straining to get to the lever; Steve was counting on him. "Come on!" he yelled at himself as he heaved himself over the side and onto the ruined deck. A bullet pinged by his head. Undeterred, he grabbed the red lever and pulled it quickly, ducking away as another bullet ricocheted by him.
Seconds later a red and gold and blur streaked past him taking out the last of the enemy. Shocked Tony blinked, before swinging off the platform and down beside the suit of armor lying motionless on the ground.
Hunkering down, he tapped the helmet. "Ok?" he asked.
"Dandy," Steve moaned.
Chuckling, the man clad in red, white, and blue settled beside him on the torn deck. He sighed and pulled out a cigarette; he figured he was outside enough. Lighting up, he exhaled blue smoke, glancing at his companion as the expressionless metal helmet turned to him.
"That's bad for you," he mumbled.
Tony snorted and puffed away, eyes looking out across the vast blue sky, "So is getting shot at on a regular basis."
Steve let his head clink back against the debris strewn floor, "Touché."
-#-#-#-
Truth be told, he was just as surprised as anyone they lived through it.
Dazed and disheveled, Tony Stark stood amidst the rubble and ruin, supporting the frustrating, intriguing Steve Rogers. New York had taken a bad blow, but, by god, it was still standing and so were they – this new, impossible team he had somehow acquired.
Steve was babbling dazedly about getting food, going out to eat. Tony grunted in agreement as he shifted closer, wrapping a big arm around the armored waist.
"First we need to see to Loki," Thor thundered. "He has much to answer for."
Tony snorted in agreement, his sentiment echoed by the Hulk. Damn, but that big green guy was amazing. Tony would go to battle any day with him at his back. Hell, he'd go to battle with any of them.
Feeling the billionaire sag against him tiredly, Tony shook his head. That damned ass had saved them all. Slowly they moved towards the tower, the soldier pulling Steve as close as he could.