Three hundred and twenty-two days after Tony first installed the arc reactor, Stark Tower goes dark.
Well, not dark, really, because lights or no lights it’s still noon on a sunny day in New York, but it does go dim enough that Steve blinks in surprise and nearly loses the forkful of lunch he’d been about to put in his mouth.
He’d been in the middle a wonderful meal with Pepper (who is a truly lovely lady) and Tony (who is… neither of those things), but one look at their faces tells him that will be ending early.
“That's not good,” Pepper says, grimacing, while Tony goes for a much more straightforward, “Shit!”
Language, Steve almost says, but thinks better of it at the last moment. Instead he grabs another quick bite of steak (because crisis or no crisis, this food is good), chews, swallows, and asks, “What’s going on?”
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Pepper says, “I think we’ve had a problem with the arc reactor.”
“Ah.” Which means absolutely nothing to him, but sure.
They both look towards Tony, who’s jamming his finger against the touch screen of his cell phone so hard that Steve’s half-afraid he’ll break the glass. “Shit,” he says again, this time more weary than panicked, and clicks the phone off.
“Looks like it. I’ll go suit up, I’ve got to fix it before anything else decides to shut down on me.”
He makes a face, like equipment failure is some sort of personal insult to him (and probably it is), and stands up. Steve follows.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
Tony laughs a little at that. “Only if you’ve both learned how to breathe underwater and figured out what a computer is other than ‘thing that runs on electricity, possibly magic’. Otherwise, nah, I got it.”
“Hey!” Steve protests, but half-heartedly, because really those comments were only half undeserved.
“Tony,” Pepper chides, and to Steve’s surprise the man actually looks vaguely apologetic. (Vaguely. Very, very vaguely.)
“Sorry, sorry,” he says with a wave of his hand, “No harm meant. I’ll be back soon, okay, Pepper?”
“I’ll keep watch from the surface,” Pepper says with a nod and moves towards a big bank of screens to Steve’s left. “You go get out there.”
“But hey,” Tony says as he steps out the door, “At least we can add this to the list of things that lasted longer than Kim Kardashian’s marriage.”
“What?”
Tony and Pepper exchange looks.
“Sorry,” Tony says finally, “But there’s no way I can explain that reference to you without losing a good twenty percent of my brain cells.” And with that, of course, he steps out the door.
“Pepper?” Steve asks, helplessly. “Explanation?”
Pepper opens her mouth. Closes it. Shakes her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Oh, come on, Steve thinks.
(Sometimes he swears the entire twenty-first century is conspiring to keep him in the dark.)
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timeasmymeasure
Fill, Tony & Steve & Pepper Gen
Date: 2012-05-06 04:33 am (UTC)--
Three hundred and twenty-two days after Tony first installed the arc reactor, Stark Tower goes dark.
Well, not dark, really, because lights or no lights it’s still noon on a sunny day in New York, but it does go dim enough that Steve blinks in surprise and nearly loses the forkful of lunch he’d been about to put in his mouth.
He’d been in the middle a wonderful meal with Pepper (who is a truly lovely lady) and Tony (who is… neither of those things), but one look at their faces tells him that will be ending early.
“That's not good,” Pepper says, grimacing, while Tony goes for a much more straightforward, “Shit!”
Language, Steve almost says, but thinks better of it at the last moment. Instead he grabs another quick bite of steak (because crisis or no crisis, this food is good), chews, swallows, and asks, “What’s going on?”
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Pepper says, “I think we’ve had a problem with the arc reactor.”
“Ah.” Which means absolutely nothing to him, but sure.
They both look towards Tony, who’s jamming his finger against the touch screen of his cell phone so hard that Steve’s half-afraid he’ll break the glass. “Shit,” he says again, this time more weary than panicked, and clicks the phone off.
“Looks like it. I’ll go suit up, I’ve got to fix it before anything else decides to shut down on me.”
He makes a face, like equipment failure is some sort of personal insult to him (and probably it is), and stands up. Steve follows.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
Tony laughs a little at that. “Only if you’ve both learned how to breathe underwater and figured out what a computer is other than ‘thing that runs on electricity, possibly magic’. Otherwise, nah, I got it.”
“Hey!” Steve protests, but half-heartedly, because really those comments were only half undeserved.
“Tony,” Pepper chides, and to Steve’s surprise the man actually looks vaguely apologetic. (Vaguely. Very, very vaguely.)
“Sorry, sorry,” he says with a wave of his hand, “No harm meant. I’ll be back soon, okay, Pepper?”
“I’ll keep watch from the surface,” Pepper says with a nod and moves towards a big bank of screens to Steve’s left. “You go get out there.”
“But hey,” Tony says as he steps out the door, “At least we can add this to the list of things that lasted longer than Kim Kardashian’s marriage.”
“What?”
Tony and Pepper exchange looks.
“Sorry,” Tony says finally, “But there’s no way I can explain that reference to you without losing a good twenty percent of my brain cells.” And with that, of course, he steps out the door.
“Pepper?” Steve asks, helplessly. “Explanation?”
Pepper opens her mouth. Closes it. Shakes her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Oh, come on, Steve thinks.
(Sometimes he swears the entire twenty-first century is conspiring to keep him in the dark.)