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There are many who insist that machines cannot have souls — obviously, since each Windows or Apple computer doesn't come with a daemon out of the box. It's one of the most self-evident things in the world, that only flesh and blood is capable (or worthy) of a soul's innumerable gifts.
Tony Stark knows differently every time he enters his mansion — or rather, every time the door is opened for him. It's a bit of a ritual, the way he pauses for a moment and tips his head back, eyes closed and arms slightly open while Severka spreads her falcon's wings and swoops ahead of him into the shadows…
… and when he hears the hum approaching: soft at first, then deep and luxuriously textured as velvet. He waits, and within seconds the air around him vibrates with the murmur of innumerable wings as hundreds of tiny black and gold bodies settle upon him, feathered feet catching hold of his clothing and caressing his skin, thin flickering tongues tasting him to register the salt and the sweet.
He welcomes their touch, smiling, until JARVIS intones: "Welcome home, Sir."
"It's good to be back," Tony grins, and the swarm of bees rises in a busy cloud to vanish back into the ventilation system of the house — most of them to the hive that is nestled against JARVIS's primary server banks, the rest of them to various points in the mansion, or to the gardens outside, where they feast on the most glorious and delicious flowers Tony can possibly provide.
On top of everything else, his A.I. produces absolutely marvellous honey.
THE END