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comment_fic. I apologise in advance -_-;
Title: On Lemons And Army Songs
Rating: PG
Fandom: Avengers movieverse/Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Characters/Pairings: Pepper, Tony, Steve, mention of Rhodey, Natasha and Ford Prefect. Tony & Pepper & Steve, Tony & Pepper & Rhodey, Tony & Ford
Summary: In an effort to get Steve drunk past the supersoldier serum, Tony introduces him to something he picked up from Ford Prefect back in the day: Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. Pepper, as per usual, ends up having to pick up the pieces
Wordcount: 891
Warnings/Notes: Crackity crack
Disclaimer: Not mine
comment_fic. I apologise in advance -_-;Title: On Lemons And Army Songs
Rating: PG
Fandom: Avengers movieverse/Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Characters/Pairings: Pepper, Tony, Steve, mention of Rhodey, Natasha and Ford Prefect. Tony & Pepper & Steve, Tony & Pepper & Rhodey, Tony & Ford
Summary: In an effort to get Steve drunk past the supersoldier serum, Tony introduces him to something he picked up from Ford Prefect back in the day: Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. Pepper, as per usual, ends up having to pick up the pieces
Wordcount: 891
Warnings/Notes: Crackity crack
Disclaimer: Not mine
On Lemons And Army Songs
Pepper stared. Even with what felt like four lifetimes' worth of living with Tony behind her, she couldn't really help it.
Steve, for his part, gave her a wide, floppy grin, his eyes warm and frankly admiring, and almost faceplanted tipsily into her lap in an effort to plant a sloppy, gentlemanly kiss on her hand. He scrambled hastily backwards, promptly fell over, and then spent an earnest thirty seconds or so apologising profusely to her ankles while his ears went steadily more luminous.
Pepper blinked, slow and careful. Then she offered the poor man a bright, cheerful smile, asked him if he could just wait one minute, and then grabbed Tony by the arm and practically frogmarched him out into the hall.
"What did you do?" she hissed, glaring right down the barrel of Tony's stupid, lopsided grin. "Did you poison Captain America? I swear to God, Tony, if you've poisoned Steve I will disown you right here and now ..."
"Woah, wait!" Tony threw up his hands, waved them placatingly in her face. "Woah, Pep, heh. No poisoning people. We agreed that, I remember that, I only accidently poisoned Rhodey once. It never happened again, did it? Relax." He glanced downwards, looking somewhere between penitent and smugly, childishly delighted at his own genius, and Pepper felt her stomach drop instinctively in dread. "He was moping, you know? And I offered to get him drunk, and he told me the serum meant he couldn't anymore, and that was just a crime, that is actually a crime to condemn a man to who knows how long a life without even the option of drowning his sorrows once in a while, so I might have ..."
Pepper squeezed her eyes shut. "You might have ...?" she prompted, with a tone that strongly suggested she didn't actually want to hear the answer. Tony chuckled softly at her, and easily dodged the short punch she threw his way.
"So I might have pulled out the big guns," he went on, waving absently. "You remember Ford Prefect? Did you meet Ford? Might have been Rhodey, no, it was definitely Rhodey. The first time. I think. Ah." He paused, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "Okay, help me out. You remember Ford, right?"
Pepper stared at him for a long, long second. Tony gradually fell silent, possibly sensing the bright, lazy cloud of distant anger floating behind her suddenly bright smile. After a second, he started to look genuinely alarmed.
"Yes, I remember Ford Prefect," Pepper said, very lightly. "He called me a gorgeous sunset, asked me to hold his goldfish, offered to show me where his towel was, threw up on my shoes, and then asked me which way to the roof, he had to catch a lift with a friend who was flying past." She gripped his arm, leaning close. Not quite as threatening as Natasha, maybe, but more than sufficient to make Tony flinch. "Tony. Darling. Tell me you didn't do what I think you did. Tell me you did not introduce Steve Rogers to a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster?"
He blinked rapidly, making a valiant attempt at a casual grin that slipped rather rapidly back off his face. "Um. Okay? I mean, you told me never to lie to you, but if you want to make an exception this time, I can go with that ..."
He cut off hastily at the growl of frustration that ripped out of her, now not even bothering to disguise his alarm. Vaguely, she noticed that he was surreptitiously trying to pry her fingers from around his arm without, you know, actually drawing any more attention to himself in the process. She didn't shake him. She was tempted, but she didn't shake him.
"... Alright," she said, after a long moment. Stepping back, letting Tony have his arm back. She brushed her hair out of her face, glancing involuntarily back towards the den as rough, surprisingly pleasant singing started up. She flushed a little at the lyrics. Living with Tony and Rhodey probably ought to have jaded her, but for some reason hearing an explicit army song sung by Steve Rogers was ... different.
Tony, beside her, stared at the closed door for a stunned second, and then looked back at her with eyes that were slowly widening in realisation of what he'd done.
"Now you figure it out," she grumbled, and stabbed a finger in his direction. "I am going to buy stock in ibuprofen, on the off-chance that it somehow manages to dent a hangover caused by something the serum couldn't stop. You are going back in there to make sure there are no goldfish involved, that there are no attempts at unaided flight, and that nothing that happens to that poor man because of this comes back to bite him." She leaned in close, smiled with all her teeth. "And, Tony? If there is any mention of towels whatsoever because of this, you will be the one getting your brains smashed with a gold brick. Are we clear?"
He nodded rapidly, hand on heart, and for a second she almost thought he was going to be serious about this. For one very, very brief second. Then he offered her his best, shiniest grin, and asked:
"Will you wrap the brick in a slice of lemon first?"
A/N: Quick follow-up piece On Coffee and Early-Morning Flights (Tony & Arthur Dent - Arthur Dent drops 'round the Tower for tea one morning. Tony hasn't had enough coffee yet to deal with it).
Pepper stared. Even with what felt like four lifetimes' worth of living with Tony behind her, she couldn't really help it.
Steve, for his part, gave her a wide, floppy grin, his eyes warm and frankly admiring, and almost faceplanted tipsily into her lap in an effort to plant a sloppy, gentlemanly kiss on her hand. He scrambled hastily backwards, promptly fell over, and then spent an earnest thirty seconds or so apologising profusely to her ankles while his ears went steadily more luminous.
Pepper blinked, slow and careful. Then she offered the poor man a bright, cheerful smile, asked him if he could just wait one minute, and then grabbed Tony by the arm and practically frogmarched him out into the hall.
"What did you do?" she hissed, glaring right down the barrel of Tony's stupid, lopsided grin. "Did you poison Captain America? I swear to God, Tony, if you've poisoned Steve I will disown you right here and now ..."
"Woah, wait!" Tony threw up his hands, waved them placatingly in her face. "Woah, Pep, heh. No poisoning people. We agreed that, I remember that, I only accidently poisoned Rhodey once. It never happened again, did it? Relax." He glanced downwards, looking somewhere between penitent and smugly, childishly delighted at his own genius, and Pepper felt her stomach drop instinctively in dread. "He was moping, you know? And I offered to get him drunk, and he told me the serum meant he couldn't anymore, and that was just a crime, that is actually a crime to condemn a man to who knows how long a life without even the option of drowning his sorrows once in a while, so I might have ..."
Pepper squeezed her eyes shut. "You might have ...?" she prompted, with a tone that strongly suggested she didn't actually want to hear the answer. Tony chuckled softly at her, and easily dodged the short punch she threw his way.
"So I might have pulled out the big guns," he went on, waving absently. "You remember Ford Prefect? Did you meet Ford? Might have been Rhodey, no, it was definitely Rhodey. The first time. I think. Ah." He paused, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "Okay, help me out. You remember Ford, right?"
Pepper stared at him for a long, long second. Tony gradually fell silent, possibly sensing the bright, lazy cloud of distant anger floating behind her suddenly bright smile. After a second, he started to look genuinely alarmed.
"Yes, I remember Ford Prefect," Pepper said, very lightly. "He called me a gorgeous sunset, asked me to hold his goldfish, offered to show me where his towel was, threw up on my shoes, and then asked me which way to the roof, he had to catch a lift with a friend who was flying past." She gripped his arm, leaning close. Not quite as threatening as Natasha, maybe, but more than sufficient to make Tony flinch. "Tony. Darling. Tell me you didn't do what I think you did. Tell me you did not introduce Steve Rogers to a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster?"
He blinked rapidly, making a valiant attempt at a casual grin that slipped rather rapidly back off his face. "Um. Okay? I mean, you told me never to lie to you, but if you want to make an exception this time, I can go with that ..."
He cut off hastily at the growl of frustration that ripped out of her, now not even bothering to disguise his alarm. Vaguely, she noticed that he was surreptitiously trying to pry her fingers from around his arm without, you know, actually drawing any more attention to himself in the process. She didn't shake him. She was tempted, but she didn't shake him.
"... Alright," she said, after a long moment. Stepping back, letting Tony have his arm back. She brushed her hair out of her face, glancing involuntarily back towards the den as rough, surprisingly pleasant singing started up. She flushed a little at the lyrics. Living with Tony and Rhodey probably ought to have jaded her, but for some reason hearing an explicit army song sung by Steve Rogers was ... different.
Tony, beside her, stared at the closed door for a stunned second, and then looked back at her with eyes that were slowly widening in realisation of what he'd done.
"Now you figure it out," she grumbled, and stabbed a finger in his direction. "I am going to buy stock in ibuprofen, on the off-chance that it somehow manages to dent a hangover caused by something the serum couldn't stop. You are going back in there to make sure there are no goldfish involved, that there are no attempts at unaided flight, and that nothing that happens to that poor man because of this comes back to bite him." She leaned in close, smiled with all her teeth. "And, Tony? If there is any mention of towels whatsoever because of this, you will be the one getting your brains smashed with a gold brick. Are we clear?"
He nodded rapidly, hand on heart, and for a second she almost thought he was going to be serious about this. For one very, very brief second. Then he offered her his best, shiniest grin, and asked:
"Will you wrap the brick in a slice of lemon first?"
A/N: Quick follow-up piece On Coffee and Early-Morning Flights (Tony & Arthur Dent - Arthur Dent drops 'round the Tower for tea one morning. Tony hasn't had enough coffee yet to deal with it).
