fandomtownies | Stark Industries, Tuesday

This was a test: "Please tell me Pepper's human."

Tony nodded slowly. "Unless she's been keeping secrets."

"Well," Steve had to point out. "It's Pepper."

"...fair enough." Tony waved again, finally noticing he still had something on his arm. "She has put up with a lot. But I wouldn't call it an inhuman amount."

Well... he wouldn't.

"No," Steve agreed, "you wouldn't. What are you working on?" Like he would understand.

Tony turned over his hand, showing the circle in the palm. "Something to balance the flight."

Steve fought down laughter. "Yes, I can see how you would need that."

"I haven't fallen like that since then," Tony informed him loftily.

This was mostly because he hadn't done it since, so...

Moot point.

"I'm sure you'll improve," Steve said.

No, really. He was.

"And if not, you have the robot."

The robot in the corner perked up slightly at that.

"If it douses me with flame retardant again, I'm giving it to the highschool," Tony said, shooting it a look so it slunk back down.

"Some of the students will be thrilled," Steve assured him. "Possibly one of them would make it a pet."

"Why does that thought scare me?"

"Because you have experience with some of the students?" Steve suggested.

"There was one in the library this past weekend," Tony replied, truly looking concerned for the state of modern education. "I was surprised he hadn't hurt himself near the computers."

"Some of them aren't from now," Steve said, since that seemed most likely to be the problem. "Or they're from worlds where typewriters would be beyond bleeding edge."

"Then someone should really show those kids the basics of these things."

Basics probably meaning advanced coding and robotics designs.

"I think there was a class in the spring. I'm not sure how basic it was."

Steve could use Google. Just about.

Which was just adorable of him.

Really.

He might never want to tell Tony that. Because it was no excuse that he had been frozen when the internet was created.

"Right." There was a beat when he remembered something. "What is it you teach, anyway?"

Steve's version of Tony had tried. And then he'd given up and stared longingly at a bottle of scotch. "I teach art," Steve told him.

Well this one had a bottle of scotch under his workbench.

Because it was good to have in easy access!

"Huh." Tony waved in his general direction, up and down. "I never though of you as the arty type. Maybe a gym teacher, but not an artist."

"I'm an artist," Steve said defensively. "I went to art school." In the thirties. And he never finished. "When I came here I wasn't in any shape to be teaching gym. My knee was...uh. Blown out."

"Of course you are." Not condescending at all. "You're also a... well let's not lie, you're kind of intimidating with the muscles."

"That would be because I'm a supersoldier," Steve said. Would it be egotistical to ask if he was still in the history books in Tony's reality?

Would Tony even have paid attention to know if he was in the history books in Tony's reality?

"Supersoldier." Tony just eyed him critically for a moment. "I've heard that before."

It had been mentioned in talks for weapons with a few generals, but it had never been explained. He got the feeling it was a sore subject.

"Not surprised," Steve said. "My shield exists in your reality, therefore I've got to be in the mix somehow. I assume. It was during World War II, though. Well before your time."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject