Fandom Island and Town

Sam had remembered the coffee this time, so that was good. He was sure he'd forgotten something else, but it wasn't coffee, so it probably didn't matter that much. He really needed to start making lists somewhere other than on his PDA, since then he could never find them again.

For someone so well-versed in alien robot technology after that time he'd had to help them put Bee's legs back on, and who worked for a tech genius, he was surprisingly inept with plain old human technology. Somehow it didn't bother him too much. He was too busy worrying about everything else.

Stark Industries is open.

Sam was busy texting Mikaela when he arrived at Stark Industries. He was thinking about getting her a webcam or something so they could actually see each other and he could prove he wasn't lying about the hot girlfriend. He was pretty sure he'd forgotten something in the grocery run, but it couldn't be that important, right?

Unless it was the coffee.

Oh, God, he'd forgotten the coffee.

Stark Industries is open. Sam will get more coffee after his shift, if Mr. Stark doesn't kill him first.

After hearing what was going on, Sam had spent last weekend locked in his room, fearful some random little kid was going to show up and call him 'Daddy' if he ventured out. He was sure Mr. Stark would understand. But this weekend was kid-free, so Sam was free to show up and do his job--if by 'do his job' one meant 'drop off food and then play Spider Solitaire' which Sam so did.

Stark Industries is open.

Sam hadn't gotten any annoyed voicemails or texts or whatever, so he figured Mr. Stark couldn't be too annoyed he'd sort of...skipped out on work last week. Maybe he figured Sam had been a little kid like apparently everybody else. Sam wasn't going to be the one to disabuse him of that notion.

Anyway, since Mr. Stark was apparently incapable of buying his own food, Sam was sure to bring groceries this week, light on the nutrition. That should keep him happy, and Sam could catch a nap. The nap should keep Mr. Stark happy, too. It meant Sam wasn't breaking anything.

After last weekend, when Sam and most of the island had lost their minds and Sam's new magic-obsessed personality forgot to do his job, Sam figured it would be a good idea to actually show up early this week. Unfortunately, as soon as he arrived at work he decided to make a phone call to Mikaela to ask if she'd gotten the flowers he'd sent her the day before, without remembering the three-hour time difference. He was probably going to have to send some more flowers to get her to speak to him again, so it was a good thing he had paying work.

Stark Industries is open.

After Sam called Mikaela, he made his weekly run to the grocery store for Mr. Stark's frozen burritos and whatever, and then plunked himself down in his usual spot to wait for her to call back.

And, you know, help you with any tech-y needs you might have.

Stark Industries is open.

Sam had taken note of the notification that his boss was a pony and stocked up on apples, hay, and oats. He was sure Mr. Stark would appreciate his thoughtfulness once he was back to human-shaped, if he wasn't already.

You know. If he wasn't too busy firing him.

Sam spent most of his shift making out a Christmas shopping list and resigning himself to the fact that he was going to wind up doing most of his shopping at the airport gift shop on the way home. Maybe next year he wouldn't wait until the very last minute. But probably not.

Stark Industries is open.

Sam was completely oblivious to any unusual happenings (and to the building being bugged) when he showed up for work Sunday morning. Mostly, he was moping over Bee being gone. He delivered the groceries and made a note of the beer being gone, thinking he should pick some more up next week. Mr. Stark could totally live without beer for a week, right?

Stark Industries was open.

Sam ditched the groceries in the kitchen, then came back down to man the desk, by which of course is meant 'alternately stare into space and fiddle with his hand brace while wondering how much longer he has to wear it.' He truly was a dedicated and diligent employee.

Stark Industries is open.

Sam was back in the shop for the first time since it had sort of...gotten trashed. It looked much better. Yep. All not-trashed and stuff.

He wished he could say the same for his hand.

Stark Industries is open.

Sam let himself into Stark Industries Sunday morning as per usual, carrying the week's groceries and wondering vaguely how he'd wound up an errand boy. At least he was a well-paid errand boy?

After he put the groceries away, he went back downstairs and sat down to read a magazine that may or may not have had his boss on the cover, because that was actually far more productive than anything he could have done involving the shop's actual projects.

Stark Industries was open.

Sam was glad to be 'home.' Sam was glad to be out of his tuxedo and back in normal clothes. Sam was even kind of glad he could now say he'd flown on a private jet. Sam was less thrilled about going to work, which might be why he appeared to be taking a nap instead of actually doing anything useful. He was a teenaged boy, what did you expect?

Stark Industries was open.

Sam arrived on time really he swore with the groceries for the week, put those away, and went back downstairs to open the storefront. With that taken care of, he started looking around at the stuff in the shop, wondering if there was anything here he could safely touch without risking an explosion or something.

Probably not.

Stark Industries was open.

((Sorry, guys, I've been at the library all day! *shoots paper*))

Sam staggered into Stark Industries, laden down with bags of groceries. Since he couldn't figure out what he was supposed to actually do with the groceries, he shrugged and put them down on the nearest horizontal, semi-clean surface. It was no skin off his nose if something went bad or whatever, he figured.

Then he looked around the shop and said, mostly to himself, "So, uh. Now what?"

((Open!))