imafuturist | Apartment Above Stark Industries, Saturday Morning

There was clearly no better thing to do, after waking up with no memories whatsoever, than calling everyone in your contacts.

So Tony's phone was ringing.

If it, you know. Still worked.

It did indeed!

The noise in Tony's head this time was bearable if a little weird. Also weird how it was kindly labeled as 'Tamsin' for some reason. "Hello?"

"Hi!" chirped the woman, who had not yet seen anything with her name on it and so had no idea she was Tamsin. "I'm just calling you because you're in my phone! Hi!"

That was... a lot of sunshine for this early in the morning.

"Hi," Tony returned, slightly less hesitant than he'd been before. He tried pulling at the line of data streaming from this phone call, looking a little awed at the process. "You're apparently in mine as well. Hi."

"Cool," the woman said. "So you're... Tony? What's up, Tony?"

"I have no idea," Tony replied, still mentally poking at the phoneline. "You're Tamsin then?"

And he was Tony. That was good to know because he didn't fucking carry a license or ID because he was Tony Stark.

"If that's what the phone says, I guess so!"

You didn't need to end everything in an exclamation mark, Tamsin.

"I just woke up here. Weird, right?"

But it felt like that was the way it was supposed to be.

Excuse you, she needed all of the exclamation marks.

"I did too. Wherever here is." Now he had to wonder how the heck they knew each other.

"I think mine is a house," Tamsin whispered.

Well, stage-whispered. It wasn't very subtle. "I have a house!"

Okay, now he could see it. She was pretty adorable.

"So, you're Tamsin with a house," Tony said, smiling despite the weird situation. "And I'm Tony with... I think this is an apartment. Doesn't feel like a house. Honestly, I'm not sure what a house feels like. I can tell you how many satellites and cell towers this phone call is bouncing off of though. That's normal, right?"

Ramble away, Tones. Just ramble away.

"I don't know," Tamsin said, because she honestly didn't. "How many are there? Can you tell me?"

So much excitement. "Or is it a secret?"

"...I have no idea." Oh god, what if it was a secret? "But five. Total. I think we might be in space."

HE WAS BOTH WEIRDED OUT AND REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THAT ONE.

"Really?" Beat. "Hold on!"

There were footsteps. And a door opening.

"Oh my god. It's all full of stars!"

He was lucky he was getting this version of amnesiac Tamsin, and not the almost feral one.

Yeah, that would have probably ended in hiding behind a couch and then being freaked out by the armor suddenly showing up to encase him. So.

"It is? I was right?" Tony made for a window. "I was right. Oh my god, look at it."

Aww, they both still had wonder in them. It was precious and soon to be crushed.

It helped that Tamsin was like a baby duckling right now and aggressively internalising Tony's wonder, too. "It's beautiful," she gasped. "Oh god. Where are you? We should see if we're both seeing the same stars!"

"Odds are that we are," Tony said, trying to find any that he recognized. Which was just silly of him this weekend, but whatevs. "Where... is there a street sign by you?"

"Um, I think so?"

More footsteps.

"It says... Godiva Street?" Beat. "Godiva St, really."

He pressed his face against the window to crane for a street name near him. "Near Black Swan and.... Minotaur?"

What was so wrong with dead Presidents and tree names, guys?

"That doesn't tell us much," Tamsin sighed. Then she brightened. "Hey, how about you walk outside and I'm just going to walk around? Maybe I'll see you!"

BRILLIANT.

That didn't seem like a bad idea! Because they were idiots.

Tony considered it for a moment, nodding to himself as he hunted for the door out of the apartment. No, that was a pantry. "If I can get out of here," he muttered before finally finding a more secure looking door that lead to some stairs. "Try walking north. That's... something people do."

HE DIDN'T KNOW.

"Okay," Tamsin said brightly. "North it is!"

Beat.

"Which way is north?"

"...stay where you are instead." Because fucked if he knew. Something something stars?

"Okay." Tamsin tilted her head up. "I guess I could just go back to looking at the stars... They're so pretty."

Tony took a moment to boggle at the shop he had to get through to get to the outside before powering on through to find this Tamsin woman... friend of his. Friend, right?

"Are you--is there anything else around maybe?"

Maybe he should have put on shoes before he left, but his life wasn't that easy.

"Wow, there are a lot of stairs here."

"I see a lot of grass?" Tamsin said, tilting her head. "Oooh, and water behind. Do you think that's the ocean? Do we have a beach?"

"There's a beach?" Tony went up on his toes like that would help. "I thought we were in space?"

"I don't know, but I can see water," Tamsin reported again. "And... a boat. Oh my god, Tony, there's a sailboat, we have to go to the sailboat!"

"Water and a sailboat," Tony muttered, picking a direction at random to find that. "Do you know how to sail? I don't."

He actually did. Rich people hobbies.

"I don't think so," Tamsin said, walking towards the boat because screw it, she could. "But I've never tried!"

I... yes.

Tamsin, no!

"We could try to figure it out together," Tony ventured. "If I can find you."

Hey, was that water coming up?

"I'm gonna go stand by the boat," Tamsin informed him. "I'll see you there!"

She turned her phone off.

Of course, she had no idea what Tony looked like.

And there went the signal!

Tony swore under his breath and started to jog in the direction of the water. And hey, he was doing pretty good at that! Weird. Almost like he ran sometimes.

"Tamsin?" Why was he whispering? He tried that shit again only louder. "Tamsin?"

He was greeted with silence.

Well, for half a minute or so.

Then a mildly perturbed, "Tony? Tony!" Beat. "I know how to swim!"

"Oh," Tony replied, sounding a little strangled and worried as he rushed forward to the dock. "That's--that's good."

TAMSIN, WHY?

Because she was currently out of memories and her Valkyrie 'new life' mechanisms had sprung on? Probably.

But there she was, swimming in the water not far from the ship.

Or rather, treading water while she gave him the thumbs up.

Well now. She was pretty. Tony blinked for a moment before immediately offering her a hand to pull out of the water. "Nice to meet you, Tamsin. Again, I guess."

Tamsin took his hand, pushing herself up onto the pier. "Nice to re-meet you," she said, pulling on her shirt to get the water out. "I wonder how we met the first time."

At that Tony had to laugh. "Well, it must not have been very memorable."

That was an awful joke.

Steve woke up in his own bed and without voices in his head, so he was already two steps ahead of Tony. Yay! Not that he knew Tony.

Or who he was. Or much of anything.

After looking in the mirror and flexing his arms for entirely too long, he heard Tony's voice (thanks to superhearing!) and called out, "Hello? Who's there?"

Of course he did. Geeze, Steve.

"...hello?" he called back, getting up from the couch to investigate. That did not sound like the voice before at least!

"Hello!" Steve echoed. "Where are you? This place is really big."

"I thought it was kinda small," Tony muttered to himself, not sure why he'd think that. But there it was. "Living room."

His stomach growled a little.

"Wait, kitchen. Kitchen now. Please tell me there's food in here."

Steve took a couple of wrong turns, then found the kitchen. "Depends if a Hot Pocket is food," he reported from the freezer.

"Works for me," Tony said, giving the coffee pot a little poke to find it also dinged on the weird brain stuff he had going on.

Then turned to greet the person who hopefully had answers for what was going on. "Hi. Wow. You are not what I expected."

With the tall and the blond and the triangle shape.

"Should I apologize for that or somethin'?" Steve asked with a slight quirk to his eyebrows. "You're my....roommafe? Cousin? Boyfriend?"

Steve, how should Tony know that.

"No? Maybe? Sorry, I don't even know how I got here," he admitted, flushing a little in embarrassment. Ugh. Tony was going to hate this later. "I was hoping you would."

Or that voice from before. That could totally come back to explain this stuff.

Steve blinked. "Well...you weren't in bed with me," he offered, "so that probably means roommates."

Beat.

"You wouldn't happen to know my name? I found a really weird costume in the closet and a red, white and blue shield that I tripped over, but no wallet."

"Which leaves friend or cousin open." A beat. "Or I did something wrong because I woke up on the couch."

He frowned, patting at his own pockets to make sure he hadn't missed a wallet either. But he was Tony Stark and other people carried wallets for him. He did, however, find a strange card instead. "Is that me?"

Look, he hadn't found a mirror yet.

"It is!" Steve confirmed eagerly. "You're an A. Apparently."

"I really hope that's not my name," Tony muttered, turning the card to look at it closer. "Maybe we have a costume club?"

Because the actual fuck was he wearing in that picture? And what was going on with his bangs? The beard was... eh.

"Maybe?" Steve said. "That seems normal?"

If it was normal, why was he ending everything with question marks?

"Show me your weird outfit," Tony decided, trying to take control of this bizarre situation. "Maybe there are more clues on it."

Like another A. It was like they were the shittiest buddy cops with amnesia ever.

"Okay," Steve said, heading back to his room and returning in his blue suit.

Tony probably hadn't meant wear it, Steve.

No. No, he had not.

Tony stared for a moment, mouth open in what he was going to say was surprise before turning away to pour himself some coffee that he'd gotten made almost on autopilot while he'd waited. "Okay, if we're in some kind of costume club, I'm thinking it's the kind where costumes come off for money."

Steve poked at his costume. "You think? These seams seem pretty sturdy. I can try it?"

No, Steve.

Tony, tell him no. Tell him no.

"I don't know," he said with a tiny bit of panic at how this situation had gone so far. "That's what it looks like at least."

God damn it, Tony.

Steve shrugged and gave his non-reinforced sleeve a cautious yank.

...darn you, SHIELD, and your non-super-solider-proof clothes.

Here, Tony, have a view of Steve's entire arm.

Well, really, they were just helping SHIELD make it better. In the long run.

"Well, that answers that question. We're apparently strippers."

IT DID NOT ANSWER IT AT ALL, TONY.

"You are very muscular."

"Well, it's part of the job," Steve said. "...apparently."

A horrible thought occurred to him. "...so what does the A stand for on your card, then?"

Edited 2016-07-11 00:59 (UTC)

Tony frowned and tried flexing like that. And, while muscular, in no way like that. "Name of the strip club maybe?"

"It must be," Steve agreed. "I haven't found my wallet yet. Bet I have a card too..."

And a name. Sigh.

"I did find a notebook full of weird words, though: Berlin Wall, Star Wars..."

"That's... pretty weird," Tony replied slowly. But then again, how he'd woken up hadn't been much better. "I think I might have shorted out the TV."

And almost everything else in the house. Jesus, Tony.

"How'd you do that?" Steve asked, pulling the Hot Pockets from the freezer in his one armed stripper suit.

"Thought really hard at it?" Tony ventured. "I don't know. I can sort see things. Like text messages. And satellites. And computers."

He blinked at the flow of information.

"I don't know who Tino is, but he searches weird things."

Steve staaaaared. "So you're like a really good looking robot?"

"I don't feel like a robot." A beat. "Which is probably just what a robot would say."

Oh god, he was totally a stripper robot!

They were going to be SO disappointed in their deductive skills on Monday.

"Probably," Steve agreed. "But you were hungry, so that's anti-robot. Maybe you're a witch?"

They really were. Tony would have to make at least three back up plans to prevent this from happening again.

"...I don't think so." He just had a super aggressive annoyance at the idea of magic for some reason. "But sufficiently advanced science and magic are supposed to be close."

A beat. "This seems really convoluted."

"Kinda," Steve agreed, running his free hand through his hair, making it poof up a bit.

Which was pretty adorable, Tony had to admit. Just ignore the way blatant appreciation of all of that he had going on.

With his stripper arm. You harlot, Steve.

He opened his mouth to say something more on the matter, but ended up a little tongue-tied. Which was ridiculous. "Yeah," he settled on.

Steve gave him a flirty smile. Because he was a stripper. Apparently.

Damn it, stripper Steve!

And Tony was a magic... robot stripper. Of some kind. Whose circuits were probably on the fritz because it was pathetically easy to fluster him. It took Tony years to train this out of his system, damn it.

"At least we woke up with good company," he said, trying to act chill.

Steve winked at him. "Yeah, we did."

Stripper Steve was a lot less flaily than regular Steve.

...goddamn it, Tony couldn't even rib him about the winking now. But he totally would have.

Instead he turned a little red and ducked his head. Because apparently they swapped personalities when they didn't know who they were. And thought they were strippers. "We're going to need to come up with names. I can't keep calling you, uh," he cleared his throat and hurried over, "'hot blond guy' in my head."

He could, but the repression on Monday would be a killer.

Steve burst out laughing. "Well, it's catchy," he said. "I found my phone. Maybe I can call you, see if I'm listed as something else?"

"Well, I hope I'm in there," Tony said earnestly. "Maybe check the texts?"

And hopefully they wouldn't think Tony's name was Rumlow.

There wouldn't be enough Axe on the island for that.

Steve scrolled. "You don't seem like a Natasha," he mused, "or...holy crap, I met the President? That's gotta be the name of the guy at A or somethin'."

Maybe if Tony starting drinking protein shakes?

"Wow, if our boss makes us call him Mr. President..."

"It might explain the red, white, and blue shield," Steve said, making a little face. "Gross. Okay, best guess you're either Tony or Fury. Fury's totally a stage name."

Somewhere, Nick Fury inexplicably hated Captain America.

At that Tony laughed. "I would have thought I'd be something robot sounding. Unless it's supposed to be a secret. I vote Tony. Which still leaves you a mystery."

A beat.

"Wait, call that one. Maybe a phone still works here."

Steve nodded. "Worth a try. Unless you want to be Weird Beard Guy."

Not nice, Steve.

"My beard is not weird!" It was just meticulously angular.

Further proving robotics, really.

"It's a little weird," Steve insisted, handing Tony a Hot Pocket.

"We can't all be baby faced," Tony muttered, accepting the food easily.

"And babies with facial hair's just weird," he agreed, pressing "call" on his phone now that he had a hand free again.

Before Tony could comment on that mental image, he had the same sort of sensation in his head as he had earlier. Only, you know, less crippling.

"Oh. You're Other Steve," he confirmed, tilting his head as he idly followed the call signal through cell towers and satellites back to right across from him. "Nice too meet you, Other Steve."

"Glad to be the second Steve you sometimes know," Steve said, winking.

Seriously with the winking. He was just lucky this version of Tony didn't know any better and found it charming and worthy of a flush instead of the dorkiest damn thing possible.

"I wonder if there's an Other Other Steve," Tony replied with a grin.

"Maybe, but I'm solidly number two, I think I can live with that," Steve said.

"Well, since I don't actually remember the other one, you can move up to the top of the list," Tony said with an earnest grin.

Steve gave him an unironic fist pump. "Awesome."

Oh, Tony would make himself sad remembering this. Steeeeeeeeve. No, the other Steeeeeeeeve.

Instead of being a sad sack of emotional trauma, he grinned like that Jersey Shore bullshit was clearly his goal. "Well, I hope we don't have to work today because I have no idea how to dance."

"Oh, I bet if we put on music it'd come back."

Steve. Steve, no.

Steve, why must you make things difficult for them later on? Why?

"You think?" Tony asked dubiously.

Because he was apparently hardwired to make everything the Hardest Ever?

"I'm sure of it," Steve said encouragingly. "Maybe you need your outfit too."

"Maybe," Tony granted him, rubbing the back of his neck. "Where do you think I'd keep a robot suit here?"

It was literally in your bones, Tony.

"A sexy robot suit, obviously," Steve said, nodding. "Maybe your closet?"

"A sexy robot suit," Tony corrected, looking at the doors that were his options. He frowned, concentrating on which he'd pick as a bedroom and not a linen closet.

Then frowned, holding out his hand like he could feel where it might be. A hand that was suddenly being covered in black, inky material. "Okaaay..."

"Holy crap!" Steve exclaimed.

"Definitely a robot," Tony croaked, pulling up the t-shirt he was wearing to find it was covering all of him. "Wow."

"Still kind of a hot robot," Steve admitted.

Tony was almost too distracted by the undersuit to flush all the way yo his godamn ears. Almost.

"Thanks?" Because it was just good manners to say. "Why is mine way tighter than yours?"

Because you designed a kinda slutty Tron knock off in which to fight crime, Tony.

"I didn't know things could get tighter than mine," Steve teased. "Makes your ass look great, though."

Because strippers noticed that.

SERIOUSLY, STEVE.

Tony choked on absolutely nothing at that. Possibly the remaining vestiges of innocence in his genteel soul. Which. LOL. Who knew? "Really? I mean."

Tony, stop glancing down at Steve's everything.

"You're pretty great too. I think."

With so many to compare it too!

Steve grinned. "Thanks, but it's not like we've had much to compare it to."

"Well, trust the robot on it."

You're still not a damn robot, Tony.

"I will," Steve said with a low laugh. "Now dance."

Steve, stop flirting.

Stripper Steve did what he wanted! Stripper Steve lived on the edge.

"I don't have music," Tony replied, leaning back on the counter and grinning despite himself.

Robot stripper Tony lacked game.

"None at all?" Steve laughed. "You're a robot stripper who doesn't use music?"

"Maybe I am," Tony replied. But he doubted it. Because clearly you had to dance to music or it was just sad. Known fact.

To people with amnesia.

"You could dance with me."

And bad idea of the weekend went to Tony!

"...I could," Steve agreed.

They would regret this SO HARD.

Hopefully it wpuld involve brooding while looking out into the ocean. Or maybe the stars. Those were some classics.

But most likely all the repression in the world. Who didn't love some repression?

Tony held put his hand like he was letting Steve go first here.

"Oh, you're all heart," Steve teased, ripping the other sleeve off of his uniform, just to be symmetrical.

"You're the one who wanted me to danxe," Tony replied, gathering up the nerve to shove at Steve's chest and invade his personal space.

"I was thinking more in terms of your choreography, but sure, I'm game," Steve said.

Even amnesiac Steve couldn't back down from a challenge.

Maybe this would teach him a very important lesson about it? No? No. Probably not.

"I hope my choreography isn't just me doing The Robot while removing clothing," Tony replied, trying to picture how not sexy that would be. "Also, you kind of look like a dolphin trainer right now."

It was the lack of sleeves.

"You might be able to pull that off?" Steve offered hopefully, looking down at his suit. "Lose the top part?" he guessed.

"You--you could," Tony replied, eyebrows going up. He frowned down at his the undersuit rather than look at Steve, trying to pinch at the material on his arm to pull away. Instead of that happening, the black just retreated from his fingertips to reveal bare skin.

Which was helpful. Sure.

"Oh, that's weird."

"Bet the ladies love that," Steve said, waggling his eyebrows. "A few guys, too."

"Uh huh," Tony replied dryly, focusing a little on the image of sleeveless like Steve was sporting and finding it was actually doing just that. He was magical. "I'm sure they notice me standing next to you."

"Not everyone likes blonds," Steve said with a philosophical shrug.

Tony rolled his shoulders and made a face like he was just humoring the guy. "I'm pretty sure I was only hired because I can control my outfit with my mind."

Look, it was now a v-neck! And now it was a ridiculously deep v. He was having way too much fun with this.

A ridiculously deep V Steve was ogling appreciatively. "It's a really cool trick."

"Probably saves on costume cost," he replied with a shy little grin and look at Steve's outfit. What was left of it.

SHIELD would never get an answer on what happened to it, would they?

He's honest, but not necessarily...oversharing on details. Yes.

"You'd think they'd have made this easier to tear," Steve agreed. "Maybe it's to show off my biceps."

Maybe he should also tear stumps in half! Just spitballing.

Maybe only to make some poor technician cry. Because no one would believe him if he tried to share this.

"They are very... bicep-y," Tony admitted, doing a little ogling of his own. Goddamn, son. "Maybe it's to build up the reveal?"

Just ask Peggy Carter about the reactions to revealing all of that.

Or Howard!

...Maybe not Howard.

"How much do you think I reveal?" Steve asked, frowning down at his pants. "There's not a lot of room in the pants for, you know, much else."

That would end in so many tears.

Tony tilted his head and squinted a little like he was actually doing the math on what could be contained therein. Because he was actually doing the math. Jesus, Tony. "I think it depends on what you're wearing underneath?"

Turned out that Steve could still blush! "It's red white and blue?"

And tiiiiiny. Natasha had a wicked sense of humor, and in his right mind Steve wouldn't have EVER touched them.

"...really?" Natasha, why?

"With a shield. I don't know why."

SURE YOU DIDN'T, STEVE.

"Like for a fan dance?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," Steve said.

Tony was trying very hard not to grin at that. Veeeery hard.

"I'm sure you did a great job?"

"I feel like I have a pretty strong work ethic," Steve said, flexing. "I don't think these muscles just magically appeared."

Yes, a comment should have been made about that in any other situation, but luckily for Steve, Tony had amnesia. And was distracted by the flexing.

"You must work out a lot," Tony agreed, not able to look away.

Steve nodded, flexing some more. "You should see the abs, man."

Steve, no.

"Yeah?" Tony said, turning red like he hadn't tried to figure out the volume in Steve's pants with math. "That good?"

"Pretty sure you can bounce a quarter, bro."

Oh, Steve, no.

Tony couldn't help but laugh now. "Did you just 'bro' me?"

"Sounds like it, yeah," Steve said, laughing. "Whoops."

"Well, luckily I don't have a quarter to test your theory." A beat. "Bro."

Steve laughed, then ripped off what was left of his shirt.

The SHIELD uniform people were going to be SO DISAPPOINTED.

Disappointed or super interested in a repeat. You know. For science.

"...okay, you weren't lying," Tony croaked.

Steve grinned. "Thanks, man. You're not so bad yourself."

Because they were strippers. Obviously.

Strippers were totally into casual nudity. It was true.

Tony cleared his throat and shrugged like he had literally any level of chill. "I'm sure we've seen this before."

Hundreds of time. Clearly.

Well, the movies just glaze over the "everyone strips in the locker room" montages.

"Hundreds of times," Steve agreed.

So much casual nudity among teammates! There was probably some sort of pollen in there too. If fanfic is to be believed.

"Completely oblivious to it by now." EXCEPT NOT.

"Well, we all can't have cool magic clothing that appears when we want it to," Steve teased.

"Don't be jealous of it," Tony replied, changing it to look like it had when it first showed up.

"I'm a little jealous of it," Steve said.

"I'm sure I'm jealous of your..." He waved vaguely toward Steve's crotch. He meant underwear. He totally meant underwear.

"I'm sure yours is perfectly adequate," Steve assured him.

This was the kind of assurance that would not not-a-stripper Steve waking up in a cold, embarrassed sweat months from now.

Just bottle it up, Steve. Geeze. Maybe date a woman you just met. Make out a little post-funeral before tearing apart interpersonal relationships. You know, healthy things.

"Thanks? It might be part of this suit." Still referring to underwear.

Steve was not thinking about underwear, which was why he looked horrified. "It comes off?!"

"I'd assume so," Tony said, squinting down at himself now. And now it looked like he was wearing bike shorts. Which was probably better than slutty catsuit look? Maybe?

"Well, you are a magical robot," Steve said. "You don't really need one, I guess."

"Why wouldn't I? I can't just wander around all... loose." Seriously, you two.

Steve blinked. "Loose?" he repeated, getting the idea (slowly) that they might not be talking about the same thing.

"You know." He did not. But Tony was still gesturing vaguely at himself. So vaguely.

"Well, it's not supposed to be so loose it falls off," Steve said.

"Well, I can't wear pants tight enough for that," Tony replied. "I mean. It just sounds uncomfortable."

"I dunno," Steve said, gesturing down. "I've never had that problem."

Tony squinted again in case his math had been off about the angle of that dangle.

Because this clearly couldn't get worse.

~~Best movie.~~

"Um." Steve said. "I mean, not that I'm not totally used to people staring, but not normally at home?"

He thought? Maybe?

Tony blinked, breaking himself out of his weird math as he shuffled backwards against a counter top. "Sorry."

"No harm done," Steve said, waving his hand. "Let's see if we can find some good music and get dancing!"

This was going to be such a shitshow.

A shitshow of strippers and poor choices!

"There's got to be a radio around here somewhere, right?"

The fanciest one possible.

"Definitely!"

Probably a tax write off for work expenses! Strippers totally itemized, right?

Glitter was a totally a deductible expense.

Tony spun around, wiggling his fingers in the air like he had robot superpowers to find these things. "Maybe... this way?"

"Sure," Steve said, shrugging philosophically.

"Worth a shot," Tony agreed, ambling toward the living room where he'd woken up. "Think this place is yours then?"

"Well, I was in the bed and you weren't...so, sure?" Steve said, frowning. "It's nice."

"Guess you must make good money," Tony said, running a hand over the television. Maybe if he concentrated he could put music on that?

"I must," Steve agreed, looking around. It still seemed weirdly large to him.

Clearly they had very weird reactions to the amount of space because Tony thought it looked small and homey.

"Looked outside yet?" Tony asked, getting the television to turn on with a thought. Aw yeah, robopowers activate.

"...no," Steve admitted. "Think it's full of magic robots?"

And the TV was on... a news channel. Ew.

"It looks like a castle out there."

"Bullshit," Steve said, poking his head out to see.

"See?" Tony said, abandoning the news station.

"Why don't we live in the castle?"

"Because we're strippers, Steve."

Strippers.

"Maybe we strip for the people in the castle?"

Steve. NO.

"Well, we might?" TONY, NOT YOU TOO.

"Strippers to kings," Steve mused. "Sweet gig."

"Explains how you can afford this place." Look at them finding logic in this somehow.

"We must be extremely talented," Steve decided.

"And that's probably why our boss is 'The president'."

Because of a castle. See?

"Right," Steve agreed. "Because calling him the king would be kinda tacky or something."

Apartment Above Stark Industries, Saturday Morning

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