Disclaimer: All property of Marvel Studios and BBC. Not me. Not ever.

"Tony…just no." Steve sighed heavily, pinning the tee-shirt that Tony was waving eagerly in front of his face with as piercing a glare as he could work up in his exhausted and bemused state. After the fiasco with Loki and the Chituari, it had been nice to retire to Stark Tower and enjoy Tony's company now that the resentment had been firmly swept away. It had even been nice allowing Tony to introduce him to modern culture; Steve had been wary, clinging onto home as much as he could by avoiding learning too much, but eventually, he had to admit, some of the past 70 years were pretty cool. It had seemed even nicer when Tony had eventually persuaded Steve to trawl the New York shopping scene and 'sex up' his wardrobe. What made Steve finally clam up and refuse to play, was Tony Stark, standing shamelessly before him, in the middle of a clothing store, demanding that he purchase, and wear regularly, a tee-shirt emblazoned across the chest with the red and yellow image of Iron Man.

"Oh come on!" Tony retorted, his playful smirk firmly fixed on his face, "It's great for your image, it demonstrates your devotion to your god, and the only thing sexier than this would be a three-piece suit with my face stitched into the hem!"

Steve yanked the tee from Tony's hands, studiously ignoring his last comments as he tucked it back onto the rack.

"Tony, the day I wear something with you on it is the day you need to start worrying for me." Steve insisted, turning to walk from the store, knowing that Tony would follow, "And if this is the road we're going down, where's your shirt devoted to me?"

As Steve had expected, Tony fell into step beside him, his hands digging deep into his pockets as he swaggered from the store, examining the tables out the front as they passed.

"Now…only one of us looks good in spangles, dear." he snarked, subconsciously leaning back into the arm that Steve nudged him with in response to his last comment. Steve opened his mouth to speak again, but Tony raised a hand and paused in the middle of the street, pulling his ringing phone from his pocket. Steve's curiosity piqued as Tony's eyebrows pinched, and he muttered an almost silent 'what the Hell?'.

"JARVIS, since when do you call me?" Tony asked urgently, his eyes widening imperceptibly as presumably the AI reported down the line, "Okay, don't let them know."

"What's happening?" Steve probed as Tony turned on his heel and began striding towards Stark Tower. Something was clearly wrong.

"Apparently my security protocols have been hacked and there are now four armed men waiting for us on the second floor of the Tower." Tony explained sharply, his irritation glaringly obvious. Since the attack on New York, he had become increasingly touchy about strangers entering the Tower; something about dents in the floor and holes blown through the wall. Steve had his suspicions that it was more to do with how easily reached Tony was within its walls, as even SHIELD agents had been locked out halfway up the Tower once their presence had been noted.

"Well that's just great," Steve muttered, before pointing out that, "Neither of us is armed."

Tony shook his head as they turned a corner, and the base of the Tower came into view.

"That's not what worries me. You're big and I can call the suit to me in a second." Tony reeled off, waving his hand as if to brush away the matter, "No, what worries me is that whoever's in charge reckons they can take the two of us with only four men. That amount of confidence suggests they're packing some heat."

"If that's the case then I want to be able to question them. Apprehend them Tony, do NOT blow them up!" Steve ordered, slipping into the role of leader the moment that they reached the door to the foyer.

"Whatever you say Spangles, but may I remind you that firepower's rather my style." Tony quipped, eyeing the floor above them as he spoke into the band that was an ever present fixture on his wrist, "JARVIS, send down the suit, quick as you can."

Steve didn't even bother to scold him, as the Iron Man suit shot through the open door behind them, apparently having escaped from a higher window, and began wrapping itself around Tony's form, clicking into place. There was silence from the floor above. Steve glanced towards Tony, who nodded sharply and strode into the lift. Steve followed closely behind, picking up a steel tray at the last moment. Any kind of defence would be a massive help at that moment.

The second that the doors to the lift opened, three shots ricocheted off of the Iron Man suit, and Steve only had a moment to notice that there were now three syringes lying mangled on the floor before Tony surged forward, tackling the largest man in black. Clearly someone wanted them alive. The next few minutes were a blur. The men, it turned out, were no match for Steve or Tony, but they put up one hell of a fight, actually managing to knock Steve off his feet when one of them used the other as leverage and landed a flying kick to his chest. It was difficult to decipher what was going on, as furious shouts clambered over the roar of the suit's weapons. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw two of the men running for the lift, escaping in a cloud of smoke as it seemed Tony had managed to light their coats on fire. Steve swung his tray at the man standing over him with a new syringe, knocking him cold; he rolled to the side before he could topple into the spot he had just been lying in.

"Nice one, Cap!" Tony's voice rang out, tinny and strained through the suit as he clocked the now unconscious attacker. The moment's distraction was all it took; the last man standing, spotting his chance dived towards the window, hurling a discarded chair through it. He seemed to have decided that he could survive a two story drop, and Steve couldn't move fast enough to stop him from leaping through the gap.

"DAMN!" Tony cursed, aiming a kick at the window pane, leaving it dented as he strode back towards the unconscious man. Steve watched the huddled mass on the pavement, and couldn't help the sigh of relief when it stumbled to its feet and sprinted lopsidedly into the waiting van, which then sped away. Attacker or not, that was one less death to worry about. His attention was caught by the sound of Tony's helmet clinking against the marble counter. Steve turned around and was met with the sight of Tony poking the unconscious attacked with his suited toe.

"Feed him to the lions or the good-cop, bad-cop routine?" he asked, looking to Steve for approval. Steve shook his head agitatedly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"This is serious Tony!" he scolded, ignoring the mock-hurt look that was sent his way, "He's obviously more than a petty crook; we need to call Fury."

"Oh, do we have to?"

Yay, finally got to the Stony. The plot should begin to roll onwards now.