Author's Note: Here we are next part! Sorry about the wait, busy, busy! This story is a beast of a thing, right now it's sitting about forty some odd pages gah! It's a pretty sweet story though lot of team building, and Tony being a good bro. Look forward to it!
Many thanks to ravingbeauty and her fantastic work on this, we'll see this through to the end.
That Has Such People
Part V – All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players
Tony woke with a start, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling above him, as the cries of men and screams of shells slowly faded from his ears. Shaking his dark head clear, he slowly sat up, scanning the unfamiliar room. Gradually recalling he was no longer in some strange hotel, but in his new home.
Yawning he ran a hand over his face, blearily looking around the room. It was a beautiful room – it really was. Bigger than he really needed, though.
In his own time, his family had not been immune to the Depression. And while Howard had worked hard to restore the family fortune, Tony had never forgotten the hard lessons that poverty taught.
Still, the room was tastefully decorated, just waiting for his own personal touch.
"It's not so bad," he told himself, slowly pushing himself to his feet. As he glanced from the small nest he'd made on the floor to the still pristine bed, a bitter smile twisted his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept in a bed.
Sighing he stretched his nude form, checking the clock – 0500. His serum-enhanced body usually didn't require much sleep. When he was healing, though, he was down for the count.
Shaking out long limbs, he headed first for the bathroom, automatically going through his morning ablutions. As he splashed water on his face, Tony paused catching sight of his reflection in the mirror, dark eyes unable to help but run over his nude figure.
They had called him the peak of human perfection, and he supposed that to an extent he was. Once upon a time he could have only dreamed of the body he had now, with long lines of muscle, sculpted and perfect. He had a handsome face, strong chin, straight nose, and dark eyes he'd once been told were easy to get lost in.
Yes, he'd been called perfect – and maybe once that had been true. Now, though, time and wear had taken their toll on even the super soldier. The serum healed cuts, bruises, and breaks like they had never been. But the deeper wounds left an indelible mark on his body. Sure, they healed – he always healed – but the scars remained.
Strong fingers carefully traced a silvery line up his side, dully remembering the pain of the metal shard imbedding deeply in his flesh. Moving upwards, he skipped over several puckered circular scars, bullet wounds from when he'd been shot and left for dead in the Belgium woods. Breath hitching at the memory, Tony turned away.
"It'll do you no good, Stark," he reminded himself, closing his eyes in pain.
Shaking himself off, Tony walked back into his new room and headed for his single piece of luggage. Rooting through the dirty cloths in his duffle, he made a mental note to do laundry later. He did manage to find a relatively clean grey t-shirt, though, followed by a pair of black athletic shorts. Once his rather worn sneakers were pulled on over the least gross pair of socks, he was off.
Confidently he navigated the hallways, taking the private elevator down to street level. Steve had shown him the Avengers private entrance during his tour of the Tower, and Tony was thankful he wouldn't have to deal with that receptionist again.
Breathing deeply, Tony stepped into the relatively quiet, crisp, New York morning. He took a moment to shake out his long legs before he turned and took off at a brisk pace. Dark eyes never still, he watched the city that never slept move from loud night into the bustle of the day.
He was crossing the street, headed towards Central Park, when a cry for help made him pause.
"Please stop!"
Frowning, he picked up his pace and rounded the corner, spotting a woman yelling as she hurried after a man clutching a purse that clearly didn't belong to him.
Tony simply moved into the path of the man; the purse-snatcher was so busy watching the woman that he never saw the large man in front of him. Holding out one powerful arm, Cap watched in amusement as the man ran into it full tilt.
Dazed, the would be thief looked up at him from the pavement as Tony glowered, picked up the purse, and stepped over the groaning man. He returned the bag to the woman with a polite nod.
"Oh, thank you so much," she breathed, looking flushed and agitated, but grateful.
"No problem, ma'am," he replied mildly. "Have a good day now." With a respectful head tilt, he turned away. Headed off on his run, Tony never noticed the bystander tapping madly away on his cell phone.
-#-#-#-
Steve woke with a start, immediately groaning when every bone in his body protested.
"Owww," he mumbled, stretching with a pained moan. Sleeping at his worktable was never a good idea. Managing to stagger upright, he mulishly rubbed his lower back and yawned as he panned his workshop – it was just as he'd left it last night.
He fumbled for his empty coffee cup and frowned as he turned to look at the bots across the room. "Butterfingers, get this tidied up," he ordered. Steve had turned to head toward the kitchen when he paused. "And if you break anything, I swear to God I will turn you into a wine rack," he threatened, listening as the bot whirled despondently before rolling to follow his orders.
Steve trudged up the stairs and sauntered into the communal kitchen, his mouth watering at the smell of coffee permeating the air. Barely registering the others, he managed to grunt something towards Bruce and Clint, who were already eating at the table.
"I hear Cap showed up yesterday," Clint said, working his way through an omelet Steve had no doubt that he'd conned Bruce into making for him.
"Hmmm," Steve said with a yawn, pouring a large mug of the elixir of life.
"Tony turned up?" Bruce asked, surprised, looking at Clint for confirmation.
"Yeah, had a problem with reception. Apparently Mr. Rogers rode in and saved the day. Went and threw his weight around."
Caffeine once more running through his system, Steve was able to function normally and turned to face the others, a self-satisfied smirk playing about his lips. "Shame on her for being mean to Captain America. There has to be some sort of law against that."
They all chuckled at the thought.
"What's so funny?" a new voice inquired.
The three men turned in time to see the rather awe-inspiring sight that was Tony Stark post work out.
It took everything Steve had not to stare. Normally sweaty men didn't really do anything for him, but that grey shirt was obscenely tight, and those muscles… Dear god, the man perfect.
While Steve was trying to pick up his jaw, Bruce smiled warmly, "Tony, welcome back."
Grinning the soldier moved to the fridge, "Thanks, Bruce. How are you?"
"Not bad," the scientist replied politely.
"How was traveling 'Merica, Cap?" Clint piped up curiously.
"Good, I guess – I saw lots," Tony shrugged as he opened the fridge and fished out a bottle of water.
Steve, who had finally managed to find his tongue, tried to look charmingly aloof. "How was the room, Cap?" he managed to ask nonchalantly.
Draining the bottle, Tony shrugged. "Nice, it's very nice," he answered with a smile.
Steve nodded, unsure what to say.
Tony tossed the bottle into the recycling. "Is there a laundry room?" he asked, having learned on the road that's what people called it now.
Steve waved a hand airily. "We have people to do that for you," he said grandly.
Tony shrugged, "It's ok, I don't mind doing it myself."
The billionaire gave him a 'suit yourself' sort of look before turning to the door. "Later, kids," he called as he headed back towards his lab. Tony watched him go, a frown furrowing his brow.
"He's always like that," Clint commented, still munching away.
"Like what?" Bruce asked curiously. Interested, Tony too turned to the archer.
"Cold, distant, aloof…" he gestured with his fork.
Bruce sighed and shook his head. "He's just…" he trailed off with a shrug.
Clint glanced at the scientist, "Brotherhood of science?"
The sometimes rage monster gave him a half hearted glare before turning back to Tony, "Come on, Tony. I'll show you the way to the laundry room."
-#-#-#-
"Damn!" Steve cursed as he burned himself yet again on the soldering iron. DUM-E whirred worriedly, holding a rag out to him. "Thanks," the genius mumbled as he checked the damage.
"Sir, you seem distracted," JARVIS commented placidly.
Steve glared at the ceiling, but the AI was eerily silent. The billionaire was loath to admit it, but the damn computer was right. He was distracted, and the distraction's name was Captain America. The man hadn't even been back twenty-four hours and he was already turning things upside down.
Sighing, Steve wrapped a band-aid around the injured digit, "Why can't I get you off my mind?"
"Sir, Miss Carter is upstairs and wishes to speak with you," JARVIS calmly informed him.
Frowning, Steve was about make up some excuse when the familiar voice snapped out orders over the intercom, "Steven, get up here. I have Amanda with me."
Steve wracked his brain, "The PR liaison?"
"Yes, it seems there is a bit of a situation."
-#-#-#-
Tony carefully measured out the liquid detergent, waiting for the washer to start before pouring it in. Pleased with himself and feeling accomplished, he glanced around the big clean room, full of shiny metal machines.
The sight brought him back to the first time he'd attempted to do laundry in this new era. He'd been in a dingy little motel in Colorado and about to punch the machine in frustration when a soft voice stayed his hand.
"Now a nice young man like you wouldn't be thinking of hitting that machine, would you?"
Startled, he turned to look at the small older woman. Her white hair was curled smartly and laugh lines crinkled the corners of her pale blue eyes as she offered him a knowing smile.
Tony felt a flush rising as he quickly shook his head, "No, ma'am."
Chuckling, she regarded him shrewdly, "It's pretty easy to figure out. Here, I'll show you."
Thanking her, Tony listened and watched intently as she showed him, memorizing the process.
"There now, you'll be ok," she said as she patted him gently on the arm.
Tony smiled warmly, "Thank you, ma'am."
As the older woman returned to her own laundry, Tony moved to help her fold the clothes. Creasing the clothing with military precision, he listened with a half smile as she spoke openly and happily of her family, past and present.
"It's so nice to see a young man with such good manners in this day and age," she said wistfully after he had carried the basket to her car.
Tony bit his lip; truthfully, he was probably older than her, counting his time frozen.
"Thank you for your help, ma'am. It was a pleasure to meet you," he said, politely holding the car door for her. Settling in, she turned on the vehicle as Tony gently shut the door. Stepping back, he watched curiously as she rolled the window down to look at him solemnly.
"Thank you," she said with a sad twist to her lips. "You remind me so much of my brother. I lost him in 1944."
Tony felt the pull in his heart, "I know that feeling, ma'am." With a final wave she was gone, and Tony returned to his laundry.
Shaking his head, the man from the past felt a dull throb of homesickness beat in his chest. He sighed heavily and checked to make sure the machine was working properly before he grabbed his sketchbook – might as well do a little drawing while he waited.
-#-#-#-
"Whatever it was, Peg, I didn't do it," Steve said as he entered the common area. The others were already gathered around to hear the news.
"Most assuredly you did not, Steven," Peggy commented, dryly gesturing towards the TV.
Frowning, the billionaire turned his attention to the newsman on screen as Natasha turned up the volume.
"Now, our latest trending story from New York. The following video was shot by an anonymous source, appearing on YouTube within the last couple of hours. The footage has already surpassed half a million hits."
Then the picture changed to a jumpy video, clearly taken with a phone. It showed a tall man in running gear clothesline another man running away with a lady's purse. The camera operator was yelling encouragement as he swore in amazement.
Video over, the picture switched back to the news anchor. "Who is this unknown street hero? And is he here to stay?" he questioned rhetorically before the program went to commercials.
Steve barely masked his amazement as he turned back to the others. "Was that…" he trailed off, disbelief finally showing.
Tasha nodded, amused. "Captain America? Yeah, it was."
Amanda, who was madly tapping away on her tablet snorted, "And I may kiss the man on the mouth."
At that statement, Steve felt an odd pang he chose to ignore. "Why?" he asked.
Peggy arched a perfect eyebrow, "Are you kidding, Steven?"
He was about to retort when the elevator dinged open and the clever quip died on his lips. Fury, Hill, and another woman in a smart little business suit stepped into the room.
Steve groaned aloud. "Who the hell let them in?" he growled, all but glowering as the three approached.
"Where is he?" Fury asked with his usual deadpan expression, ignoring Steve entirely.
"Who?" the genius replied coldly, crossing his arms over the arc reactor, dirty wife beater pulling taut.
"Damn it, Rogers. Where is the Captain?" Fury growled.
Steve stepped forward and faced the man, standing toe to toe. "What business is it of yours, Director?" he asked, cool and collected. Neither man showed signs of giving an inch.
Clint, who was perched on the arm of the couch, felt Bruce lean into his back slightly, following the proceedings with interest. Tasha remained as impassive as ever, keen eyes watching with some amusement.
"Steven," Peggy tried, laying a gentle hand on his arm.
Neither man moved.
Hill narrowed her eyes as her hand drifted to her hip. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Bruce pressed a little closer to Clint, steadying his breath, pushing away the sudden, uncomfortable roll of the other guy.
Something was going to have to give.
Then the doors of the elevator dinged open again and an oblivious Tony Stark stepped off. Pencil dangling from his mouth and glasses perched on his nose, he walked in, flipping through his sketchbook.
Muttering to himself, the man was almost halfway across the room before he registered his audience. When he looked up he blinked over the top of his glasses and the pencil hanging from his lips.
"Ummm… hello?" he said hesitantly, suddenly very much aware of the tense atmosphere – especially the two combatants in the center of the room.
"Cap," Fury said cordially, turning away from Rogers to face the newcomer fully.
Very deliberately Tony pulled the pencil out of his mouth and shut his book. "Director, what's going on?" he asked, looking towards Steve. The blond man's features were completely composed, but his blue eyes were spitting fire. Tony couldn't help but want to draw him.
"Captain Stark," Peggy said, smiling with red lips as she explained. "You seem to have caused some commotion this morning."
Tony rubbed his neck, brow furrowing as he tried to remember what he'd done. "Don't recall doing anything, Miss Carter," he replied politely.
"Peggy, please," she said with a smile.
Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony, did you stop a mugger this morning?" he asked calmly.
Dark brown eyes blinked in surprise behind his glasses. "Oh yes, I did," he said, shifting uncomfortably.
"Excellent," a new voice piped up as an unfamiliar woman stepped forward. "Captain Stark, I'm Amanda Johnson, public relations officer for Rogers-Stark Industries-"
"Whoa – slow down there, princess," the woman with Director Fury interjected. "I'm Sarah Thompson, SHIELD public relations."
Tony blinked, utterly confused, as his eyes darted between the two.
"Look, Captain America falls under SHIELD jurisdiction," the one named Sarah rounded on the other woman.
"Tony Stark is the brother of the Howard Stark. He bears the name of the company," Amanda hissed back.
Tony, still at a loss, was reminded of two cats spitting and circling one another. He had to bite back his laughter at the vivid picture.
"What the hell is going on here?" Steve said finally, rubbing his temples. He did not suffer fools lightly and this was quickly growing tiresome.
Fury stepped forward and held up a hand to stall the rather irate looking Sarah. "Look Tony, your little escapade this morning is already spreading like wildfire. It's all over social media and the news. People are talking, and for the first time in the last six months, it's actually something positive about the Avengers."
Tony blinked, "Oh. Sorry?" he offered, still unsure if he was in trouble or not.
Nick Fury blinked, expression finally softening, "No, Tony. There's nothing to be sorry for."
Amanda took that moment to interject, "It's good, Captain Stark. The Avengers and SRI need some good press." She shot a look at Steve Rogers, who frowned.
Tony felt his brow furrow as he tried to follow all this.
"Look Captain, SHIELD wants you to be the face of the Avengers," Sarah interjected.
"No, he needs to be the new face of SRI," Amanda returned with a glare.
Steve interjected dryly, "I'm right here."
Tony cleared his throat. "I don't really think I'm -" he began only to be cut off by Sarah.
"As the face of the Avengers you could do some real good."
At her words something connected in Tony's mind, and he had to put his foot down. "No, no way. I'm not selling bonds again," he said firmly, shaking his head for emphasis. A loud laugh from the couch reminded everyone the rest of the Avengers were still in the room.
Clint, still grinning widely, chuckled, "Sorry, sorry, please continue to fight over Captain America."
Tony found his own grin at the wry comment; this was rather ridiculous.
"There is no bond selling. We'd just want you to do some press conferences, talk to some select people…" Sarah coaxed with a winning smile. Amanda looked ready to spit nails.
Tony sighed, "I don't really think I'm qualified to speak for the Avengers. I think Steve is the better choice."
Fury snorted, "The less we have of him, the better."
Steve glared daggers at the Director.
"You're the solid choice, Captain," Sarah insisted.
"Romanoff and Barton are limited by the operations they run. Banner is…" Fury trailed off, looking mildly uncomfortable.
"A giant green rage monster?" Tony interjected blandly. "It's ok, he knows." He tossed Bruce a wink, and the scientist responded with a small smile.
"Thor isn't even from this planet," Fury continued on, undeterred.
"I think that's what you call discrimination now, isn't it?" Tony asked, earning himself a chuckle from Steve. The sound brought welcome warmth to his chest.
Fury made a point to ignore the annoying genius as he continued to look steadily at Captain America, wondering if he could indeed win this battle of wills.
"You could just share him," the voice of reason spoke from the plush armchair. Despite her input, Natasha looked utterly unconcerned with the proceedings.
There was a beat of silence before Amanda spoke, "That could work." Slowly she turned to look at her SHIELD counterpart, Sarah, who returned her assessing look.
"Do I get a say in this at all?" Tony asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. The two women shushed him as they conversed rapidly, fingers flying on their respective tablets.
Tony Stark had a terrible sort of sinking in his stomach. It was never a good thing when women plotted – especially when involved him. Pep had- He cut the thought off before it could take root, trying to breathe through the pang of sorrow.
Heaving a sigh, he saw Steve shoot Fury one last dark look before the billionaire crossed the room to stand beside Tony.
Tony couldn't help but notice the blond came to about his shoulder, handsome features smooth and unreadable. Steve Rogers had a hell of a poker face; Tony was a little in awe of it. Generally he wore his emotions right out there, and it got him into trouble more often than not.
"Say the word, Cap, and I'll kick them all out," the billionaire muttered.
Tony was taken aback for a moment, then felt a small smile tug at his lips. Touched by his concern, the man from the past leaned slightly into the other. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered conspiratorially. "They can't make Captain America do anything he doesn't want to do."
Steve was unable to help the huff of laughter this time. Giving the Captain a genuine smile, he shook his head admiringly.
Across the room, keen brown eyes watched the exchange with interest. Peggy felt a gentle smile tug at her lips as an idea took hold in her mind – perhaps her employer had met his match in this man from the past. She sincerely hoped so.