Even in a house as comfortable and spacious - and currently, kinda partially trashed - as Stark's abode is, it sucks. It's like being put in time out or getting grounded by mom. Except mom in this case is an overbearing questionably intentioned alphabet soup organization. Tony doubts their sudden zeal in keeping him alive has anything to do with any theoretical goodness in their hearts.
If they have any. Government agencies, and all. He doesn't have any doubt when if he fails and dies, both him and his arc reactor will end up in some shady lab somewhere. For science or the greater good or whatever they deem their motivation.
Also, his chest itches. A lot.
The SHIELD guys drug his dad's stuff into his lab just fine, but they didn't bother with anything useful after that. So many notes, so much archival footage. Tony shuffles around all day in his bathrobe looking through everything. The disassembled bits of the Stark Expo diorama sit in a sad pile off in the corner, retrieved from Tony's old office - Potts's new office, he reminds himself - and saved from a sad death in a dumpster.
Seems a little bit of a shame to leave it there while he whiles away the day digging through Howard's old notes, for all the good that's done him. He turns up his music, shoves a few tables together, and goes about halfheartedly piecing it back together from memory. That's where that vendor goes. This path connects to that one there. Wait, he's missing a shrub, where'd he put that thing? He finds it after a moment of searching, hidden underneith another food vendor, but he finds himself pausing before he snaps it into place. Looking over his shoulder. Maybe it's all the SHIELD agents crawling all over his life lately. Maybe he's paranoid, who knows. He has myriad reason to be.
Tony puts the little model plant in its place then pads away. Ok. He's probably just paranoid, wasting time, but it's his time to waste. He'll jump at shadows if he wants to. It's probably just Coulson again.
He stops just short of the corner and peeks around it very quickly. Too quickly. His second attempt is a lot slower, a lot more careful. Maybe he can try to get some outside contact again. He feels a little like a kid trying to sneak out, or something.
It takes Tony a beat or two to realize there is a tiny redhead ninja standing in the lab doorway. He blinks, stares, leaning further around the corner. "Caroline?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-08-15 07:52 am (UTC)Even in a house as comfortable and spacious - and currently, kinda partially trashed - as Stark's abode is, it sucks. It's like being put in time out or getting grounded by mom. Except mom in this case is an overbearing questionably intentioned alphabet soup organization. Tony doubts their sudden zeal in keeping him alive has anything to do with any theoretical goodness in their hearts.
If they have any. Government agencies, and all. He doesn't have any doubt
whenif he fails and dies, both him and his arc reactor will end up in some shady lab somewhere. For science or the greater good or whatever they deem their motivation.Also, his chest itches. A lot.
The SHIELD guys drug his dad's stuff into his lab just fine, but they didn't bother with anything useful after that. So many notes, so much archival footage. Tony shuffles around all day in his bathrobe looking through everything. The disassembled bits of the Stark Expo diorama sit in a sad pile off in the corner, retrieved from Tony's old office - Potts's new office, he reminds himself - and saved from a sad death in a dumpster.
Seems a little bit of a shame to leave it there while he whiles away the day digging through Howard's old notes, for all the good that's done him. He turns up his music, shoves a few tables together, and goes about halfheartedly piecing it back together from memory. That's where that vendor goes. This path connects to that one there. Wait, he's missing a shrub, where'd he put that thing? He finds it after a moment of searching, hidden underneith another food vendor, but he finds himself pausing before he snaps it into place. Looking over his shoulder. Maybe it's all the SHIELD agents crawling all over his life lately. Maybe he's paranoid, who knows. He has myriad reason to be.
Tony puts the little model plant in its place then pads away. Ok. He's probably just paranoid, wasting time, but it's his time to waste. He'll jump at shadows if he wants to. It's probably just Coulson again.
He stops just short of the corner and peeks around it very quickly. Too quickly. His second attempt is a lot slower, a lot more careful. Maybe he can try to get some outside contact again. He feels a little like a kid trying to sneak out, or something.
It takes Tony a beat or two to realize there is a tiny redhead ninja standing in the lab doorway. He blinks, stares, leaning further around the corner. "Caroline?"