Avengers Oneshots

Bleeding Magic #Ironstrange

Bruce is vaguely sensible. Right?

Wrong. In fact, he couldn't have been more wrong. Bruce had challenged Steve to an arm wrestling competition after his 4th shot of vodka, and both Tony and Bucky were cheering them on. Stephen had wandered into the room with an air of nonchalance only to swiftly reverse towards the exit once again.

He'd managed to get back to the doorway before Tony turned his head and called out to him. Stephen had never met Tony before - Tony hadn't shown up to the last few team meetings - but he knew it could never be good when a tipsy billionaire playboy in a sombrero (a dare from Steve) was calling him over.

Positivity - this could be... interesting, he thought, for lack of a better word. Really, he needed one combining mild terror, ominous positivity and a bucket load of self consciousness to fully emcompass the emotions he felt. He felt a weight leave his shoulders and watched Levi back out of the door. He threw a glare at it as it disappeared around the corner of the corridor. Turning back to face a smirking Tony and an apologetic Bucky, he crossed the room.

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"Stephen, right?" Tony asked.

"Yes, nice to meet you Stark," Stephen replied. He was good at formalities. They were structured and polite: a set pattern, simple to follow.

Tony took his offered hand and gracefully placed a kiss on it. Stephen, unsure how to react, broke into a slightly stupid bemused grin as Tony met his eyes, while mentally chucking his nicely structured paragraph of reasoning about introducing yourself out the metaphorical window.

Gathering himself together again he caught Bucky's expression - although cringe would more accurately describe it. He turned back to Tony, who was offering him a drink. He took a seat a few away from Bruce and Steve, not wanting to interrupt, while Tony poured him a cocktail of some concerningly pink coloured liquids.

Stephen sipped the drink cautiously to find it tasted of sickeningly sweet raspberries, but left a bitter after taste. Tony slid onto the stool next to him holding a drink and equally concerning blue colour. Stephen mentally prepared himself for the ordeal.

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Tony could see Stephen's face tense up as he sat down next to him. I guess the other Avengers told him about me. Serves me right for not turning up to the meetings I guess. "You're a doctor, right?" he began with.

Stephen seemed to peak up at this, "yes, I am, why?" he responded.

"I have a friend - Christine - who works at a surgery in the city. She gave me an idea for some new tech and I wanted your advice. It's a surgery robot - operated manually of course, but designed to give the surgeon a more steady and precise hand... Do you think you could help?" Tony asked.

"Umm... I don't know much about the technology, but I can certainly try to help," Stephen said.

Throughout the conversation Stephen became more animated, clearly at ease with this topic. His enthusiasm made Tony smile. He hadn't originally planned to build any such robot, he'd just been trying to undo the damage his reputation seemed to have done him. Stephen's ideas had taken root in Tony's mind, though, and he decided to draw up some drafts the next day.

Tony watched Stephen talk. He looked so serious, but Tony could see the relief flashing behind his eyes, and the smile he fought to keep down as he recounted elements of his old job. Say what he would about his selfish motivations, Stephen loved being a doctor.

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As the evening wore on it appeared to get warmer and more suffocating inside. Even Tony had started to notice it. The music seemed to get louder and more intrusive as he listened to Stephen talk. People kept interrupting, wanting to talk about his latest inventions, his success, his free time in some cases.