ladyshadowdrake

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“Yes! I thought all of you would be here. Well, maybe not Brucie Bear because of his trust and anger issues, but I figured most of you.” Tony Stark, Howard Stark’s son and protege rushed into the debriefing room with a tablet in hand and what looked like a an upgraded version of the Widow Bite. “Obviously not Iron Man, because he’s a loser and never shows up to these things, which he should, because I’m the coolest and he deserves to meet me.”

Bucky as well as most of the Avengers perked up at Tony’s arrival. They were covered in bandages and exhausted, but all of them had grown fond of their biggest fan.

“Anthony Edward Stark, what have I told you about interrupting meetings?” Howard Stark, the only remaining founder of SHIELD left on duty, scowled at his son.

Beside Howard, Nick Fury eyed father and son warily. The man was a spitfire and didn’t take crap from anyone, but he’d been caught one too many times in an argument between Howard and Tony, and it was obvious he rather not experience it ever again. The thing about pitting two geniuses together? They knew exactly what words to say to make one feel like they were being gutted and flayed. How Howard and Tony still worked together was a miracle in Bucky’s eyes.

Tony scoffed and shifted his tablet and the new Widow Bites to one arm. He then sauntered over to Bruce, who was ensconced in a fluffy, purple blanket and looking particularly exhausted. Tony wrapped his free arm around Bruce’s shoulder from behind the physicist. Bruce squeezed the arm around him and smiled.

Tony then floated over to Thor, who lifted one arm in anticipation of the side hug from Tony. “I’m just bringing up the Widow Bite prototype I’ve been working on that has been waiting to be tested for days now, but apparently someone didn’t schedule any testing time with Natasha.”

Fury frowned. “I was not informed of any weapons upgrades.”

Howard brushed aside Fury’s comments. “I saw places where the Widow Bites could still be upgraded in the blueprints. I was adding my own adjustments.”

Natasha held up her fried Widow Bites. “Doesn’t really matter now, does it? I need new ones. Tony, let me see what you have.”

Tony nodded excitedly, breaking his embrace with Thor and rushing over to Natasha. He rambled off an explanation of the upgrades, which Natasha listened to with patience as she did some minor tests with the Bites herself.

By the end of it, she smiled softly and gave Tony an approving nod. “I’ll hold on to these for now.”

Tony pretended to swoon. “The Black Widow likes the tech I’ve developed for her. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Tony,” Howard said warningly. “We still have a very important meeting we’re in the middle of.”

Tony huffed. “Fine, fine, fine. Just one last thing.” Tony pivoted and strolled over to Bucky.

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via http://ift.tt/2kDNNPY:Steve the Cop AU 1/14 - Ladyshadowdrake's lair away from la - Imzy:

AU where Steve is found by Hydra rather than SHIELD, and rescued by Nat and Clint. Identity porn all around - no one knows that Captain America is alive, all identities are secret.

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@scifigrl47 said I owed her some identity porn, and I don’t even remember why I owe it to her but apparently I accepted her statement at face value. 

Title: Hey To The Starboard
Rating: right now General, don’t know where it’ll go.
Warnings: None
Summary: Captain America has been recovered from the crash that everyone thought had killed him, but he’s caught in the middle of some delicate twenty-first century politics, not to mention some personal negotiations with his savior and his new best friend Iron Man’s boss, Tony Stark. (A bit of Steve/Tony identity porn.) 

This is just the opening scene. Not sure if I’ll finish it out but I do have ideas for the rest. 

***

“Iron Man is gonna be soooooo mad he missed this,” a voice said, and Steve, faintly, registered it as female.

He hadn’t really expected to register much of anything, after the crash, but he was warm and whatever he was lying on was dry and soft, so he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe they’d recovered him before hypothermia could set in.

His thoughts were sluggish, and over top of them he heard a man laugh lightly. “I guess so, but he’ll find out soon enough.”

“He’ll still be mad. Captain America’s his idol. His inspiration. He’s said so on all the talk shows,” the woman said.

“Probably just bucking for the job, before he knew it was still taken,” the man replied, still sounding amused. Steve managed to crack open dry-feeling eyes. The room was dimly lit, a mercy, and he could make out shadows in front of a low amber-colored lamp. The air tasted tinny, though that could just be his tongue.

There was a tiny woman in a yellow mechanic’s jumpsuit sitting to one side of the lamp, and on the other was a man in a lab coat, with a shock of messy dark hair and his legs kicked up on the table.

“You’re so mean to him,” the woman said.

“I’m his boss,” the man replied carelessly. “You just want to charm the helmet off him, I know you of old, Jan van Dyne.”

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Okay, now I’m off to bed. Still rated G. :D

***

Three days later, Steve was sitting on the roof of a mansion in Manhattan – Avengers mansion, sovereign land, a strange legal limbo – when he heard a sort of muted roar. A streak of red passed through the sky, curved around, slowed, and came into focus in the distance as a man-shaped suit of cherry-red armor.

Steve had seen pictures of Iron Man. There was a painting in the mansion’s ballroom, and Tony (Anthony Stark, a hard shock to be the same age now as a man who hadn’t been born when Steve knew his father) had several prints of specs and color swatches in his study.

In person, though, the armor was magnificent, buffed to a high shine, sleek and touched with gold. Steve was so stunned by it he almost didn’t notice it was drifting closer until it was right in front of the roof.

There was a man in the armor, supposedly. Nobody knew who it was, except presumably Tony. The man lifted an arm and touched his forehead respectfully. The request was clear – permission to approach?

Steve summoned a smile and held up a hand, fingers curling in to gesture him closer. Iron Man’s boots touched down on the edge of the roof, heedless of the six inches between himself and a fifty-foot drop.

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