Chapter Text
Tony paused mid stirring, glancing at the pot in front of him with some sudden uncertainty. “Wait, did I add paprika?”
“No, you haven’t, Sir,” answered JARVIS. “You were about to, but Darcy has alluded to the fact that she might come over this weekend, and since she is not the biggest fan of spice you decided against it.”
“Right,” said Tony, sighing slightly. “What kind of quarter Italian is she? Somedays I wonder if Elena did not actually lie to me about her being my daughter. We should DNA test her again, just in case.” He huffed, looking back at the pot. “At least she accepts garlic, I would have had to take action if she hadn’t. But…”
He turned to the heavily armed man sitting behind him, pulling out the wooden spoon and offering it to him. “Okay, can you try it and tell me what you think?”
“Uh,” said the man, squirming. “I’m still tied up?”
“Oh, right,” said Tony, bringing the wooden spoon to his mouth instead. “So?”
The man’s - Tony did not remember his name - eyes widened in surprise when he tasted the sauce. “Woah. This is some good stuff, Mr Stark! I didn’t know sauce could taste this good!”
“Oh, stop it you,” said Tony, delighted. “And by stop it I mean don’t stop, I love being praised. I tried to recreate the feeling of cozy socked-up feet under the blanket on an autumn evening while you watch the leaves sticking to the ground outside the window because of the afternoon drizzle. Or something like that.”
“That is… exactly what it tastes like, holy shit. This is really awesome, Mr Stark.” The man glanced back at the spoon in shock. “I can say with certainity that if whoever sent me had had the chance to taste this awesome recipe of yours, they would have never ordered your assassination. It is that good.”
“I’m glad you think so,” agreed Tony, pulling out another pot from a cupboard. “Everything I make is always awesome, it’s almost a curse.”
He’d add some paprika in a separate pot in case Rhodey also showed up and started complaining about the lack of spice. Last time he had made something without enough spice, Rhodey had revoked his card of ‘spicy white’ and informed him that he was back to ‘lite mayo’.
It had been heartbreaking, Tony had cried until Mama Rhodes had sensed the disturbance in the force and called to scold her evil son and make him take it back .
Once he was done with everything, he turned around to face the still tied up man. He sat on the counter in front of him and then stared at him, hand on his chin. “So, Mr Assassin,” he finally started, looking at him thoughtfully. “What should we do with you?”
Tony had to say, it had been very distressing to hear JARVIS tell him that there was an assassin in the house headed for him. It had been a while since an assassin had been sent after Tony instead of after his husband, he had almost forgotten the protocol.
But between Tony and JARVIS’ team effort - JARVIS had knocked him out with a dart, and then Tony had threatened the passed out body before tying him up - they had managed to stop him.
Then, when he had woken up, Tony had given him an epic scolding that lasted 37 minutes and made the assassin cry, before consoling him and offering him some baked cookies.
Oatmeal raisins, though, because those sucks and Tony wanted the assassin to know that he was not happy with him.
“I truly am sorry for trying to kill you,” said the assassin, looking remorseful. “You are right, wanting to become the best ballerina the world has ever seen on the East Coast is not a good enough reason to give in to a life of crime. I just was desperate, and needed the money, and I… but it is no excuse.”
Tony had opinions about how he could become a ballerina at the ripe age of 49 years, but he was not one to crush the dreams of assassins who had been sent to kill him and that Tony had persuaded not to (if he had a nickel for every time it had happened, Tony would have like… seventeen nickels. Which wasn’t a lot, but it was weird that it had happened seventeen times).
“It is no excuse. But, luckily for you, I’m a big believer in second chances,” said Tony, which was actually true.
Everyone deserved a second chance.
Unless they were someone Tony did not like, in that case they deserved pain and disgrace and more pain and sometimes death.
“Sir...”
“Shush, J,” said Tony, looking at the hopeful expression on the assassin’s face. “You know what? I believe in you, Elvis-”
“It’s Elias-”
“Eli,” agreed Tony. “I believe you have what it takes to become a prima ballerina assoluta even at the tender age of 49.”
“I’m actually 32.”
Tony hissed, taking a few steps back and crossing himself. “Madonna madre. Okay, I clearly cannot let you leave like this.”
If JARVIS could have, he would have sighed. “Finally some reason from you, Sir.”
“We need to first of all find a skincare routine that’s going to make you finally look your age, because, honey? You look horrible. Like what business does your face have, sagging like this when you have barely made thirty? You look like a chainsmoker cheating husband who works by the docks and whose wife is sort of a primadonna and doesn’t love him like she used to. Also, like you’re pushing sixty.”
“... what?”
“Why do I still allow myself to be surprised by you?” complained JARVIS, which Tony of course ignored. JARVIS was such a whiner, Tony truly did not get where the AI got it from.
Well, perhaps he got it from Ty.
His husband was such a whiner.
Though J made a point of interacting with him as little as possible because like all of his children, JARVIS hated Ty.
“I feel like you have insulted me, but I can’t be sure,” admitted Ezra, trying to force circulation back into his wrists once they were freed. “Also, your binding technique is divine. I still don’t even know how you managed to knock me out.”
“Luck,” lied Tony, smiling kindly. “I am as surprised as anyone else that any of Happy’s lessons managed to stick with me. Now, before you take off-”
“Sir,” interrupted JARVIS, once more. This time his voice had lost its teasing edge, and Tony found himself turning a little more serious than before. “Something has just happened that I believe you might want to know about.”
Tony paused at the odd way JARVIS had phrased it, and turned to look at the AI’s cameras. “Darcy?”
“No,” said the AI. “Darcy, Peter and Harley are all well, as are the rest of their families and friends. This is about your husband.”
Tony blinked, confused. “What’s wrong with Ty?”
“Many things that we do not have time to unpack at the moment, but most important right now is that your husband’s convoy has been blown up while he was in Afghanistan demonstrating the Jericho,” said the AI, and Tony’s hand flew to his mouth in shock. “All the soldiers in his vehicle were found dead, but there was no sign of your husband. The military believes him either dead or kidnapped by the enemy.”
Oh god, those poor soldiers, thought Tony, horror filling his eyes.
Soldiers.
Oh god, what if...
“What about Rhodey?” he questioned, looking at the AI’s camera with sudden desperation. “Is Rhodey safe? Was he-”
“Colonel Rhodes is alive and uninjured,” said the AI, and Tony exhaled, breathing coming out a little stuttered as he put a hand over his chest. “I believe he will be the one tasked with informing you of your husband’s disappearance.”
Because they had taken his husband, realised Tony, eyes starting to fill with tears again.
“Mr Montgomery, I suggest you leave now.”
And considering everything, there was a more than 50% chance that Ty was already dead.
“Yeah, of course. Thank you again, Mr Stark, and uh condolensces? I mean, can I-”
The terrorists might have killed Tony’s husband.
“Goodbye, Mr Montgomery.”
They had... killed him.
“That’s not fair,” said Tony, face finally scrunching up - but in a tasteful way that made sure he wasn't gonna get wrinkles. “That’s not fair. No, fuck! Fuck, this isn’t fair!”
“Yeah, I think I’m just gonna go,” said the ballerina assassin, but Tony was barely paying that man any attention.
Ty might as well be dead.
And it wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair because,
“I was meant to kill that little asshole!” he half whined half cried, falling onto the ground with grace. What wouldn't he had given for some perfectly positioned stairs, just about then. “This is not fair!”
“Sir, I understand that you are upset-”
“What am I supposed to do with all of the poison I have acquired and hidden around the Mansion?!” he complained, sniffing loudly, eyes still completely dry. “How am I meant to live out my ‘widow who no one suspects has actually murdered their husband’ fantasy now? This is not fair! Why did I have to suffer that annoying prick for years only for someone else to get to kill him?!”
“That is truly a tragedy,” agreed JARVIS. “However, you are forgetting one important detail, Sir.”
Tony sniffed, looking up from where he was curled on the ground, eyes still filled with tears. “What detail?”
“Your husband is all but dead, and he’ll certainly never bother you or your children again. Yes, you did not live out your murder mystery fantasy but, on the other side, there is nothing that could tie you to the killing because you did not actually commit any crime. Your conscience will remain clean.”
Tony’s conscience would have remained clean even if he had killed Ty, but he could see where JARVIS was coming from.
“Ty is dead.”
“84,23% possibility of him being already dead. 99,86% possibility of him being dead when the men who kidnapped him - possibly the Ten Rings - make demands of him that he cannot go through with because he does not know how to actually build weapons.”
Tony gasped, sitting up. “My husband is basically dead. Walking dead.”
“Indeed.”
“I’m a widow!” shouted out Tony in pure delight, jumping to his feet. He was free! He was finally free, he had achieved the dream and become a widow! “Yay! My husband is gone! Tiberius Stone is dead, hell fucking yeah, he’s-”
“...dead,” said Tony, looking at the people around him with tear-filled eyes - hard to see with the veil in front of his face, but impossible to not hear in his voice - a sombre expression on his face. “The news is true. It is with deep regret that Stark Industries announces today that my dearest husband, CEO Tiberius Stone, has been officially found dead in the Afghan desert last night.”
He took a deep breath, sniffing slightly. He really hoped it wasn’t about to rain because these were his ‘good weather mourning shoes’ and he did not want to get home with them ruined. He had thought he might need the bad weather ones but Pepper kept shouting at him that they were going to be late, and now Tony’s shoes risked being ruined.
It was heartbreaking, considering he had bought them in Spain a year ago - when he had started planning for Ty’s ‘sudden and unexpected’ death - and he was pretty sure they were one of a kind.
“I knew that chances of ever finding him alive were slim, but still I...” another audible sniff. “I’m sorry. Our relationship was different, but it was ours. And despite popular opinion, I did love my husband.”
Loved to hate him.
“And I shall miss him.”
Miss hating his bitchass.
“I just wish I could have seen him one last time, that I could have had one last chance to tell him goodbye.”
Or a chance at killing him himself.
“But alas,” said Tony, offering a brave smile even as his voice broke slightly as the rain started falling. His shoes, no! He needed to get out of there! “He... He...”
“It’s okay, son,” said Obie, a hand over his waist as he came closer to him. Tony bent his head down to keep his shoes in his line of vision and also not allow the press to note his grimace at Obie’s touch. Tony did not mind Obie, but sometimes he was too touchy. And while Tony was touchy too, Obie had a way of touching him that just seemed nasty as hell and had seemed so since he was a kid.
It made him want to shout ‘bad touch!’, and show off on the mannequin where the bad man touched him.
He mostly tuned out the rest of his godfather’s speech regarding Ty. A lot of patriotism, a lot of making America proud by ‘withstanding torture and choosing death rather than betraying their interests’.
Tony found it amusing how wilfully stupid people could be.
These people had known Ty for so long and they still believed that the reason he had not given up America’s interests and built the jericho for the terrorists was ‘patriotism’.
Him.
Ty Stone.
The man who used floaters in the mansion's swimming pool and who took shots before going to their New York branch (not that Tony blamed him too much for the second one. The rats in New York sometimes looked and acted like they had a 9-5, and paid rent).
Still, it was what Tony wanted them to believe too, so he thought about how his shoes risked being ruined by the end of the day and burst into tears as soon as Obie was done with his speech. He even let the media get a couple of ‘lucky shots’ because he was a pretty crier, and the world deserved all the blessings they could get on such a sad sad day.
+++
“I did not have my husband assassinated,” pointedly said Tony, rolling his eyes at the narrowed eyed expression on Rhodey’s face. “I mean, it’s not like I didn’t plan to; but I didn’t do this.”
Pepper and Rhodey exchanged a look with each other that Tony felt expressed an undue amount of doubt.
Happy turned around as soon as they stopped at a red light. “I believe you. You wouldn’t have done something like this there, considering Rhodey was there too and you could have risked something happening to him too.”
“Thank you, Happy, you understand me like nobody else on this stupid rock,” said Tony, leaning forward to plant a kiss on the man’s cheek. Happy, at this point used to Tony’s displays of affection, sighed, but did not move away.
“That’s true,” agreed Rhodey, defeated in the face of raw logic. “But still, don’t you think it’s weird? Just two months after he changed his will, Stone dies?”
“Oh, my annoying husband was absolutely assassinated,” agreed Tony, cheerily. “Don’t know by whom, but there is no doubt in my mind of the fact. Don’t know if I want to let it be or if I want to investigate it myself.”
“To thank them or to bring them to justice?” questioned Pepper, eyes shrewd.
“In part to thank them for doing me a favour. In part to shout at them for depriving me of the honour. In part to ask them if they are the same person who sent the assassin to my place too.”
The car fell silent.
When Tony looked back up from his phone, both Rhodey and Pepper were staring at him with their ‘Tony, I swear to god’, faces on.
“What assassin,” said Rhodey, and right. Tony had totally forgotten he had never told anyone else about him, because of the whole Ty being kidnapped thing.
“Nothing big,” he promised, voice light. “Just this random assassin showed up at my house the same day Ty’s convoy was attacked, but I handled it just fine. Really nothing to worry about there. He liked my ragù, and we-”
“Tony, I swear to god-” predictably said Pepper - which, by the way, was a habit of hers (and his own, really) that Tony found odd.
Pepper did not believe in god, after all. She believed in facts and numbers, just like him, so shouldn’t she say something like ‘Tony, I swear to facts and numbers’?
But as a self proclaimed empath, he could sense that saying this would not endear him to the woman at all, so he did not try to.
Instead he explained how through nothing but kindness and a good ass ragù he turned an assassin’s life around and led him back to his true passion of dancing.
For some reason, all Rhodey and Pepper understood from Tony’s heartwarming story was ‘reckless’, ‘dangerous’, ‘assassin’, ‘pain’, ‘blood’, ‘death’, and ‘Tony’. The last one was just his name, but they said it with a very particular tone of voice, it was upsetting.
Luckily, Tony did not have to suffer through unwarranted lecturers about a three weeks old issue, as they arrived at the office where Ty’s will was going to be read.
Both Rhodey and Happy remained in the car, ready to drive them back to his Mansion once this thing was done, while Tony and Pepper walked inside of the solicitor’s building.
“Do you think I’m going to get to slap someone with my glove today?” wondered Tony, as they walked inside the small office. It was so charmingly tiny. Poor people could be so cute sometimes.
“You will not be slapping anyone today,” said Pepper, voice certain.
“But I bought gloves just for the occasion,” complained Tony. They were embroidered and everything. “What’s the point of being a widow other than the awesome mourning clothes, the cute veiled hats and the slapping people with your specially made slapping gloves?”
“I’m not answering that.”
Because she didn’t have an answer, Tony was sure.
He did not say that, however, simply thinking sad thoughts as soon as he walked into the solicitor’s main office. Obie had already arrived, which was in itself a sad thought (his existence), along with a couple of other people Tony recognised from some of the dinners Tony had thrown and allowed Ty’s guests to participate in, but he kept to Pepper’s side, sniffling loudly whenever someone tried to come close to him.
Pretty people crying at funerals made people uncomfortable, it was awesome.
The solicitor himself did not take too long to arrive, and then everyone settled around the room in their chairs, some more excited and hopeful than others.
Tony’s veil - he had a whole collection of them, and had changed it in the car before getting here (being a widow was very exciting and fashionable event) - made it hard for anyone to actually see his face, which was by design, and allowed him to mostly drift off as the man started babbling on and on about Ty.
The funny thing was, many people truly seemed to believe that their marriage had happened because Ty had managed to manipulate Tony while he was in a delicate mental space after his parent’s accident.
And in a way, he supposed, it was true.
Tony had gotten married months after the accident, and Ty had gotten control of Stark Industries, and access to a lot more opportunities and resources than what would have been available to him had he just been Ty Stone.
The thing people did not realise, however, was that Tony had allowed himself to be manipulated.
Tony had inherited Stark Industries, but it wasn’t like he had wanted to be CEO and make all of those weapons and whatever. It was dirty and boring, and Tony disliked being dirty - a childhood thing - and being bored.
And everyone had always known that even though he might make a good enough CEO, Tony had always been Maria’s son more than he had been Howard’s.
He was smart, of course, and people knew he had gone to MIT and graduated from there.
But because the majority of his awards and his fame came from attending his mother’s galas, or his participation in all forms of art, people tended to gloss over all that. They just tended to assume that MIT let him attend and graduate because of his father’s money, and that was it.
Tony had not hidden his genius at MIT, but he had not advertised it much either.
Few people had taken note of it either way.
One of them, Rhodey.
The other one, Ty.
So Ty and Rhodey had been the only ones who had been aware, by the time of the accident, of Tony’s talent in designing weapons he had no interest in manufacturing or building. Not even Stane had known.
And Ty had ‘taken advantage’ of Tony’s vulnerability and unwillingness to do what everyone wanted to see him fail at, proposing a mutually beneficial partnership for them both.
Tony would get to do all the philanthropy and socialite things he wanted to do as Ty’s perfect trophy husband. Meanwhile, Ty would take credit for Tony’s weapons designs, and take over SI for him. He wouldn’t change the company’s name, and would sign any prenup Tony wanted and everything.
Win-win all around.
Oh, Tony knew that Ty most likely would have tried to have him killed, eventually. But Ty was not that smart, and Tony would have had killed him first anyway.
Or JARVIS.
Or Rhodey.
Or Pepper.
Or Happy.
Or the bots.
Or his kids.
There were a lot of people who would kill Ty if Tony asked.
It reminded him of that one time Tony had lied about how he had gotten an injury, and all of his friends and family had rounded on Ty, warning him that if he was abusing Tony they would have disembowelled him before doing a bunch of very violent and painful things to every part of his body.
Tony had found it sweet.
Ty, not so much.
That was around the time he had agreed with Tony that they make their marriage an open one.
Tony was pretty sure not even his friends knew he had engineered that whole thing for that express reason.
“...And to my beloved husband Tony Stark,” said the solicitor, and Tony forced himself to pay attention to him. “I leave... wow.”
Tony looked at the man in vague interest. “Yeah...?”
“Uh. Okay. To my beloved husband Tony Stark,” continued the solicitor, clearly shocked at what he was seeing, “I leave everything else I own. All my shares of SI, all my houses around the world - except the one in Germany I left for Obadiah - the contents of all of my bank accounts, and I officially appoint him as both head of the R&D department, and as the next CEO of Stark Industries.”
“Wow,” said Tony, putting a hand over his mouth. “That’s-”
“Insane!” bellowed Obie, jumping to his feet. His expression had been polite and sad all day, but now he suddenly looked furious and splotchy. No wonder he had so many blemishes and wrinkles, yuck. “What the hell are you talking about with that nonsense! No way that littl- no way Stone would have done that. He would-”
“Shame on you,” said Tony, jumping to his feet as well. “How dare you disrespect my husband’s last wishes like this!”
Obie looked very mad, it almost unnerved Tony a bit. “You didn’t even like that man! You must have-”
The feeling of his glove smacking Obie in the face was extremely satisfying, found Tony. Pepper did not even appear annoyed, clearly approving of Tony’s actions.
“That was very rude, Obadiah,” he said, making sure that his voice was upset enough. “I lose my husband in such a horrific way, and you dare tell me I did not love him enough, and disrespect his memory and last wishes like this? How dare you?”
No one had been pleased by the solicitor’s announcement, but now more than one person was looking at Stane in disappointment and disdain, and the man seemed to finally remember where he was.
“Of course,” he tried, forcefully smiling while he massaged his cheek. “I shouldn’t-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” said Tony, turning his back on him. “You have offended me too much.”
“Wait, Tony-”
Tony did not listen to the call, instead turning around, taking Pepper’s arm in his as they strolled out. He waited until the door closed behind him, then leaned towards the woman. “By the way, he totally killed Ty. As an empath, I can tell.”
“You are not an empath.”
“But you do not deny my sixth sense.”
“It’s not sixth sense, everyone could have told you that was an extreme reaction from him, and a suspect one at that.”
“I’m basically psychic.”
“God, you as CEO is going to be hell, isn’t it?”
Tony grinned at her.
Stocks kind of plummeted after Tony was announced as the new CEO of Stark Industries.
The Board had been absolutely hysterical when it had happened, and Tony (well, more like Pepper) had gotten countless of house calls from people demanding that he stepped down and handed the reigns to someone more talented and ready for the job.
Tony ignored all of the calls, quite offended at the appalling lack of trust being displayed.
With Ty dead and all of his shares being given to Tony, he now held the controlling majority in the Company. Before Ty’s shares, Obadiah would have held it, which Tony mused must have been the real reason behind the man’s anger at the news.
To be fair on Obadiah, Ty had written in his will that most of his things would have gone to Obadiah, in the case of his death. Then he had given it to Tony to give to his lawyer and Tony, as a dutiful and concerned husband, had immediately noticed the mistake in Ty’s paperwork.
It was almost as if the man, despite owing Tony all of his weapons for SI, seemed to have genuinely forgotten that Tony was a genius.
Tony had absolutely no intention of stepping out of the best socialite, most talented husband and perfect father image he had crafted for himself in the eyes of the media for all these years. But at the same time, did not want to see everyone at Stark Industries suddenly without a job.
It would be sad.
Also, Tony was petty. He did not like being told he couldn't do something.
So, slowly, keeping himself to the shadows - which was so difficult considering his inability to pass without his charm being immediately recognised - Tony had brought Stark Industries back up from the verge of collapse.
The first time Tony had walked into the R&D department with gloves and a glitter lab coat, and handed them a number of designs for non-weapons objects they could start producing and working on, the entire room had stared at him in shock and nearly fainted.
The second time, they had informed him that it was very clear to them from Tony’s work that Ty Stone had never had a hand in the weapons he had been selling. But they had just as quickly promised that no one would get this secret from them if he promised to come hang out with them, every now and again.
Tony was pretty sure that a good percentage of SI now knew or at least suspected that he was mostly playing at this ditzy house husband thing, but the Board and the people at the top still had no idea.
They were only interested in the results, and everyday Tony managed to bring the Company further up, the more confused and shocked they were. They kept saying that it was a mix of luck and SI employing geniuses and just like with Ty, Tony was content in letting them think that.
“I don’t get it,” said Harley, as Tony passed the bowl of pasta towards Darcy. The television was turned on in front of them, volume low and subtitles on. “Why do you have to act like you’re stupid?”
“He’s not acting,” said Darcy, snickering at the glare he sent her at that.
“I will disown you, Darcy Lewis Stark, don’t try me,” he warned. “I will exchange you for Jane Foster faster than you can apologise.” Even though he did not like Jane Foster. She kept stealing his daughter away from him.
Darcy stuck her tongue out at him and Tony focused on Harley again. “And well... I don’t know. I’m not acting like I’m stupid. I just don’t want to do certain things, and I know that people are going to force me or expect me to do those things, if they realise just how talented I can be. I don’t want to be the bread earner and all of that. I want to be a trophy at some handsome man or sexy lady’s side, and do nothing but have my fun.”
“What example are you setting for us, uh?” questioned Peter, but he was smiling slightly.
“Have fun with your life, you are rich enough to get away with it,” solemnly said Tony, chuckling at their amusement.
He loved his kids very much.
None of them had been exactly planned, despite the nature of his arrangement with Ty, but all of them were deeply loved.
Well, Ty did not love them, but the only time he had tried to say something about them, Tony had saved the phone of the divorce lawyer, and he had dropped it. He still hadn't really interacted with them, but that was fine, they hated him too.
Tony pretended not to notice some of the nastier pranks they made him suffer every now and again, because Ty's suffering was awesome.
Karma for being so boring in bed.
And to think Tony had given this man his first time, it was really sad.
“Are the cookies ready?” then asked Peter, trying to catch a glimpse towards the kitchen.
“Maybe,” said Tony, also looking back. “Don’t touch the batch on top, though. Those are for Obadiah.”
“Obadiah?” asked Darcy, sounding confused.
“Yes.”
“Obadiah Stane.”
“Yes.”
“The guy who you suspect might have killed Stone?”
“Yes.”
“You are baking him cookies?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“... Are they poisoned?”
Tony scowled at the annoyingly perceptive trio of kids his genes had put on this mortal plane. “Mind your business, and eat your food. And don’t touch those cookies-”
His phone buzzed in his hands and Tony grinned as he answered the call, walking back towards the kitchen and ignoring Nosy, Nosier and Nosiest.
“Hey, you.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” greeted Lieutenant Sexy Voice, making Tony’s lips lift in a smile. “How are ya?”
“Lonely,” sighed Tony, sitting up on the counter to keep an eye on the trio and the cookies at the same time. Knowing Harley, he might eat them anyway just to see if he was stronger/immune to the poison. Tony could save him the experiment: he wasn't. “Being a widow is so boring. Did you know I’m supposed to not sleep with anyone for at least one year otherwise I’m considered tacky? That’s so annoying.”
“Since when do you care about things like that? People thought that you and Ty being in an open marriage and you having kids with three different women was tacky, and that didn’t stop you.”
“Is that judgement I’m hearing?”
“Pride.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Come over, whenever you are free. If they don’t see you coming in or leaving they can’t call me tacky or anything.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that,” purred Erik, and this conversation would have definitely gone somewhere different had certain parties not been around and certain topics not ready for discussion. “Alas... I have found out what you wanted to know about.”
Tony straightened up. “And?”
“Yup, you were right. Obadiah Stane put a hit on your head, he wants you dead. He also is the one who put the hit on Ty Stone. Also someone is dealing Stark weapons under the table, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he was behind that as well. Would explain why he suddenly needed and wanted you both gone." A pause, perhaps to allow Tony to digest everything. “He was your godfather, wasn’t he? I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“One day my life will make an awesome movie,” mused Tony, intrigued. “If it happens, I want Robert Downey Junior to play me.”
“One, he looks nothing like you. Second, are you not... upset? ”
“Whatever for? I’ve always thought he was a creep. There was a reason mamma hated him and Howard tried so hard to keep him away from me. I’m betting someone played the same game I did when the accident happened, and altered Howard’s will a little bit.”
“You are an odd one, Tony Stark. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Stupid?! Do you even know me, Erik Stevens?!”
+++
“This was really a stupid decision,” said Stane, making Tony jump slightly from where he was standing in front of Obadiah’s computer.
“Holy shit,” he gasped, one hand flying over his chest. “Obadiah. Hiii. How are you doing, godfather?”
Stane sneered at him, deliberately locking the door behind him. Tony noticed the way the cameras in the office were seemingly off and bit his lip nervously.
“I have to say, I’m impressed,” he said, advancing towards him slowly. “I quite honestly expected them to send you packing in a matter of weeks, maximum. I certainly expected Stark Industries to hit an all time low. I did not expect you to do as well as you did, but then again... you are Howard’s son. His genius transferred somehow.”
“Like osmosis,” agreed Tony, not missing what looked like a weapon in the man’s pocket.
And not the fun kind.
“But of course you could not just sit pretty in a room and not cause problems. No, you had to come in here and snoop.” His scowl grew, and he shook his head. “Always have to make things messy, Tony, don’t you. Always getting others in trouble over nothing.”
“I didn’t meant to,” promised Tony, making his lower lip wobble slightly. “It was an accident.”
Stane scoffed, continuing to trying to get closer to him. “You think you can manipulate me, boy? Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“But it’s true,” said Tony, staring at him as sincerely as he could. “I came in here because I was looking for you. Because I was tired of denying myself.”
Stane frowned. “What?”
“I never missed the way you used to look at me, Obie,” he said, not missing the slight widening of his eyes. Nasty old man, Tony knew it. No wonder Edwin always talked about cutting off his dick. “Back then, I was scared. I thought I was never going to be good enough for someone as awesome and powerful like you. I was just... a naive little boy.
“But I am a man, now. Now, Ty is finally gone, and you did that.” Obadiah stiffened, and Tony pretended not to notice. “You did that for me, didn’t you? For us. To free me so that you and I could finally be together. Right?”
He stopped moving, leaning forward to look at him in the eyes. “Right?”
“I...”
“I didn’t come to cause problems,” promised Tony. He pointed at the tray of cookies on the table. “I came to talk about giving you the position of CEO, and see if maybe... if maybe now I could be good enough for you.” He looked up at him with wide eyes as Stane stopped beside him. “I can be good enough for you, if you let me, Obie. I can be real good.”
Obadiah looked a little entranced. “You... you want to be with me?” he asked, hand coming to rest on Tony's waist.
Tony smiled at him widely. Instead of answering, he put one of the cookies in his mouth before pushing himself as close to the older man as he could, his hands on his shoulders.
Obadiah’s eyes definitely glazed at this, his breathing stuttering slightly as his cheeks flushed.
“Come on, Obie,” said Tony, flirtily. “Or should I call you... uncle Obie?”
“Kid,” said the man, like the freaking creep he was. He leant in close enough that Tony felt the scent of his nasty cigar brushing against him, and then took a big bite of the cookie, lips almost touching Tony’s.
Tony was glad they didn’t, because then he’d have thrown up and messed up the entire façade.
“I’ve always knew,” said Obadiah, one hand going to Tony’s cheek. “I’ve always known that I just needed some patience. That one day you would be mine. Ty never deserved you.”
“No,” agreed Tony, hands going behind him as the Cradle Robber swallowed the bite he had just taken. “But you know what... uncle Obie?”
He swallowed the remaining of the cookie, expression hungry and pleased in equal measure. “What?”
“Neither do you, you sick fuck,” he said, pulling the gun out of the hidden compartment and shooting the man right in the dick. Obadiah dropped immediately, screaming in pain as blood started pouring out of his groin.
Tony jumped out of the way, keeping the table between them and the weapon raised. “You nasty old man, you knew me since I was in diapers! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Obadiah did not answer, just kept screaming.
Tony shot him again.
“Mr Stark, are you implying that Stane was the one to cause the mass destruction of every single Stark Industries weapon across the globe?”
Toni sighed, looking at the man who had spoken. Unlike the majority of the people around, he looked very unfamiliar, and had the kind of face that would have been easily forgettable.
What a curse.
“What’s your name again, unnamed journalist number 72?” he asked, tapping the side of the podium once. Pepper, Happy and JARVIS all stood to attention - well, JARVIS did it metaphorically.
“Phineas Coalwood,” said not-Phineas Coalwood because that was a horrible made up name.
“Phil,” he said, noting with some slight surprise the slight tick of his eyes. Wait... did he wrong name his way into the man’s real name? He was so smart, sometimes he surprised himself. “What I’m saying is that I don’t know. I was fighting for my life when all of the Stark Industries weapons blew up. I don’t know how, or why. Do I look like I have ever made or held a weapon in my life?”
Many people chuckled at that.
“And it’s not like there is a big huge red button in Ty’s - may his soul rest (not) in peace - studio or workshop that says ‘press here to destroy all Stark weapons at once’.”
There was, however, one in Tony’s own workshop. As if he hadn’t created every single design of his without the ability to mass destroy it if need arises.
It wasn’t red though, it was red and gold and sparkly and it said ‘if you’re feeling in a silly goofy mood’.
And Tony had been.
“What about the military contracts and the other Stark Industries contracts?” asked the shady man. “Are you going to stop supplying weapons?”
“All of Ty’s designs disappeared too,” said Tony, shrugging. “Blew up right with the weapons, I fear. I’m gonna try to make weapons of my own, but the military doesn’t seem interested. Why, are you interested, Mr I Already Forgot Your Name?”
He smiled blandly at him. Really, the man was if bland and unremarkable had a baby together and called it Boring. “Just doing my job as a journalist, Mr Stark. Thank you.”
“No problem, Phil Coulson,” he mocked, definitely noting the twitch in his eyes now.
Did he guess his real name?
He was so good.
As soon as he got home, he had some googling to do.