The Magic Man (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

The Iron Wizard and The Spoilsport

This was the toughest case of them all―a locked box inside of a locked box inside of a volcano kind of tough.

Steve could barely manage down a gulp as he took in the chaos that was his usually spotless office. He wondered again and again why he had allowed this to happen. Why there was a rabbit on his stacked, alphabetitized, color-coded folders.  Or why his garbage can was filled with a cloth that seemed to go on forever with its green, and gold, and red, and orange, and purple, and cyan, and blue, and any other color he hadn't been able to pull out.

He also wondered why his guest chairs were upside down with a strange man perched atop them like one of those flamingos from the wild.

Steve Rogers was no stranger to strange, but this wasn't strange. This was disturbing.

He rubbed his head slow circles that did nothing to ease his discomfort. Gritting his teeth, he reluctantly spoke up.

"Ahem, Mr―"

The man cut him off with the wave of his knock-off dracula cloak, setting his feet onto solid ground.

"It's the Iron Wizard, show name and real name. Well, not real name per se. It's what my friends call me. Sometimes they call me Tony because I like pizza, and I guess there's a resturaunt they like that is named after Tony. I didn't like it at first because my friend's cousin is named Tony and he's a real jerk. But I think I got used to it after they bribed me. I can't tell you with what. Nevermind, it was thumb tacks. Anyway, you were saying?"

Steve tried to rush all that information in, pausing to let it register in his mind and file into his brain to get sorted in a mini imitation of his office filing cabinet. He coughed into his hand to make up for lost time and continued.

"Okay, Tony the Iron Wizard, sir, as your manager should have informed you earlier in the week, we are to discuss your appearance in our company's new hit show, Showstoppers. All the legalities have been settled and we were just hoping to know if―"

Again, the man cut him off almost viciously.

"Look, Sammy―" Steve, he wanted to correct, instead releasing his pressured air through his lips and leaning against the wall patiently. "―I know how the show works. You follow me around for a week, and if you can't solve my acts through science, you lose. It's pointless, really. My magic is real and none of your gravity bullcrap can say otherwise. I have a God-given talent."

The Iron Wizard crossed his arm smugly and Steve tried not to bang his head against the wall.  He'd seen all types of loonies on this show, many obnoxiously arrogant. But none vould compare the the thick air of narcissism surrounding this magician.  The only solace to debunking these dim-witted blobs of juvenile entertainment was that he always won. Science was never wrong, and therefore, he was never wrong.

Running a hand through his radiant, blonde hair, Steve looked Tony in the eye.

"Save that for cameras. Humiliating yourself outside of the drama network's eyes dosen't really pay for anything other than a bad rep."

The man seemed to pontificate this while scratching his goatee with fervor. He walked over to rabbit and muttered something.

The rabbit was gone.

"You're different than I expected," he admitted, walking towards Steve and grabbing his hands. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. Potts says I do that a lot. You don't seem angry. I was supposed to make you angry. I like you more now that I've met you. We're gonna be good coworkers."
Tony chuckled and squeezed his palms until they opened, and he turned abruptly and went through the door, his cape fluttering behind him.

When Steve looked into his arms, there was the rabbit.

Steve sighed.

A tough case, indeed.

This story is dedicated to my amazingly awesome, and extra talented writer, friend NarwhalAlienQueen