I'd have loved to have more time in order to write you something proper, but until I do, I was hoping I could tide you over with an excerpt from an AoU canon divergent fic I started, where instead of the Accords, the Security Council came up with a different method of supervision... Namely, installing Norman Osborn as a Director to “supervise” the Avengers. Osborn immediately makes sweeping changes, number one being corralling Tony back onto the team through the vicious and underhanded use of a tiny contract clause. There’s nothing more unifying for a team than having to band together to dethrone a despotic dictator, right? And if Steve and Tony have to band together a little closer than they’d like in order to get some evidence, well… that’s totally fine, isn’t it???
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"You don't have to tiptoe," Steve says from over by the filing cabinet, where he's apparently displaying a scarily efficient talent for lock-picking. "You said it yourself, there aren't sound-activated sensors in here and the video and audio are being looped right now."
Tony shoots him an irritated glance. "It's bad enough that you won't let me put Osborn's car on the roof of the Capitol building, now you have to ruin my dreams of ninjahood too?"
"Trust me," Steve says, sliding open a drawer and starting to flick through the files, "there is no place on this entire planet where you could blend in enough to be a ninja."
"Ouch, right in the hope and dreams." Tony looks up from Osborn's large computer screen and dramatically clenches his chest. Steve makes sure Tony sees him roll his eyes before returning to the paperwork. "C'mon, baby, come to papa," Tony croons at the screen.
Steve buries a smile in a promising looking cardboard file which is missing the colorful paper tabs of its cabinet neighbors, because if Tony sees it he might do something embarrassing. Like saying how quiet it had been around here before Tony was forced to be on-site with them. Which wouldn't exactly be incriminating, except Steve suspects it would come out in a somewhat fond tone, and then Tony would be insufferable. Well, more insufferable than usual. Yeah.
"Found something," Steve says and then tilts his head at the echo that fills the room at his words, until he realizes the echo also said aha! in addition. He sighs and turns to Tony who's gesturing at a screen with an accompanying fist pump gesture.
"Mysterious transactions," Tony says, and then narrows his eyes at Steve. "You?"
"Outside contractor changed twice for personnel within sixteen weeks," Steve says.
Tony's eyebrows rise significantly. "My my, Director Osborn, we have been naughty." Tony's mouth quirks to one side. "Probably. I'll need a few hours with this data, once it's downloaded."
"ETA?"
"A moment," Tony says, pulling a face. "Give or take a few more." Steve's about to ask what that means when another sound diverts his attention.
"I don't like it when you have that expression on your face," Tony says.
"I don't like having to use it," Steve says, and slips out his phone, sliding the folder into the back of his jeans as he thumbs the first contact. "You're a terrible lookout," Steve says, as soon as the phone call connects.
"Oh, hi mom," Sam says, his voice jumping guiltily. Then he says, "It's my mom, I gotta take this!" in a weirdly gruff voice and Steve grimaces, because subterfuge isn't exactly Sam's strongest skill set.
Behind him, Tony taps the monitor impatiently and starts muttering words that Steve doesn't understand like bandwidth and bitrate. Whatever they mean, they can have the words "shitty fucking useless" in front of them, loudly and often.
Steve puts the phone on loudspeaker. "I'm sorry I didn't remember to get the gloves," Sam says. "Dad's home, can't he get them?"
"So Osborn's back and Hand's with him," Tony says. Steve can't restrain the impressed glance he shoots Tony's way. "Please, like your spy code is subtle."
"We're still in here," Steve says. "And we need—" He glances at Tony. Tony holds up five fingers. "Three minutes." Tony starts to pitch a fit by flailing his arms and hands like he's being electrocuted but Steve ignores him.
"Got it," Sam says. "Bye, mom."
Sam doesn’t disconnect the call, so Steve puts the phone in a top pocket so he can hear if Sam's delaying tactics work or not.
"I'll have to ditch getting the images from the video feeds, we've only got time for the audio," Tony says. "Your fault if they hold the key to all this."
"If you can't get evidence from just the audio, then you're not as clever as you keep saying you are," Steve says, hurriedly flicking through the rest of the drawers in search of another promising file. There's another two files without colorful tabs — he pushes them in to his waistband to join the other before tucking his shirt over them and joining Tony by the monitor. "Hurry up," Steve says.
"I'll just wave my fingers and get data to double its speed," Tony says, bringing up both of his hands and wriggling his fingers over the keyboard.
"Will that work?" Steve asks, and has to fight the urge to bury his face into his hands, because Tony's smirking wickedly. Even after all this time out of the ice, Steve's still running at full force into the jokes Tony leaves open for him.
Well, Steve would rather be occasionally embarrassed than not give everything his all.
"Is there no way to speed it up?" Steve asks.
"Yeah," Tony says. Steve perks up attentively. "Get me a rod of plutonium, a gullwinged car, a flux capacitor—"
"Okay, okay, I get it," Steve says, looking up at the door warily. He listens to the phone; Sam is talking loudly to Osborn about a fire escape protocol. Osborn's getting audibly bored.
"I know when I left you said it as a joke, but can you actually believe that you missed me when I wasn't here?" Tony asks, striking at the keyboard and doing what looks like some deletion program — erasing their digital footsteps, probably.
Steve moves his gaze from the door back to Tony. "When did I imply that?"
"Never, I was making a leaping guess," Tony says. Steve squints, wondering whether that's a passive-aggressive dig at Steve's continued inability to bring Batroc in. "But your lack of overt denial speaks volumes."
"Keep telling yourself that," Steve says, because the best way to wind Tony up is to be slightly agreeable and give him nothing solid to argue against.
"He's on his way in," Sam says. "Sixty seconds, tops. Might go faster if you skip the flirting."
"Aw, but babycakes, how else could I let you know you're my favorite?" Tony says, as Steve sighs and wonders what he did to deserve this life.
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timeasmymeasure
<3
Date: 2020-01-19 03:55 pm (UTC)########
"You don't have to tiptoe," Steve says from over by the filing cabinet, where he's apparently displaying a scarily efficient talent for lock-picking. "You said it yourself, there aren't sound-activated sensors in here and the video and audio are being looped right now."
Tony shoots him an irritated glance. "It's bad enough that you won't let me put Osborn's car on the roof of the Capitol building, now you have to ruin my dreams of ninjahood too?"
"Trust me," Steve says, sliding open a drawer and starting to flick through the files, "there is no place on this entire planet where you could blend in enough to be a ninja."
"Ouch, right in the hope and dreams." Tony looks up from Osborn's large computer screen and dramatically clenches his chest. Steve makes sure Tony sees him roll his eyes before returning to the paperwork. "C'mon, baby, come to papa," Tony croons at the screen.
Steve buries a smile in a promising looking cardboard file which is missing the colorful paper tabs of its cabinet neighbors, because if Tony sees it he might do something embarrassing. Like saying how quiet it had been around here before Tony was forced to be on-site with them. Which wouldn't exactly be incriminating, except Steve suspects it would come out in a somewhat fond tone, and then Tony would be insufferable.
Well, more insufferable than usual. Yeah.
"Found something," Steve says and then tilts his head at the echo that fills the room at his words, until he realizes the echo also said aha! in addition. He sighs and turns to Tony who's gesturing at a screen with an accompanying fist pump gesture.
"Mysterious transactions," Tony says, and then narrows his eyes at Steve. "You?"
"Outside contractor changed twice for personnel within sixteen weeks," Steve says.
Tony's eyebrows rise significantly. "My my, Director Osborn, we have been naughty." Tony's mouth quirks to one side. "Probably. I'll need a few hours with this data, once it's downloaded."
"ETA?"
"A moment," Tony says, pulling a face. "Give or take a few more."
Steve's about to ask what that means when another sound diverts his attention.
"I don't like it when you have that expression on your face," Tony says.
"I don't like having to use it," Steve says, and slips out his phone, sliding the folder into the back of his jeans as he thumbs the first contact. "You're a terrible lookout," Steve says, as soon as the phone call connects.
"Oh, hi mom," Sam says, his voice jumping guiltily. Then he says, "It's my mom, I gotta take this!" in a weirdly gruff voice and Steve grimaces, because subterfuge isn't exactly Sam's strongest skill set.
Behind him, Tony taps the monitor impatiently and starts muttering words that Steve doesn't understand like bandwidth and bitrate. Whatever they mean, they can have the words "shitty fucking useless" in front of them, loudly and often.
Steve puts the phone on loudspeaker. "I'm sorry I didn't remember to get the gloves," Sam says. "Dad's home, can't he get them?"
"So Osborn's back and Hand's with him," Tony says. Steve can't restrain the impressed glance he shoots Tony's way. "Please, like your spy code is subtle."
"We're still in here," Steve says. "And we need—" He glances at Tony. Tony holds up five fingers. "Three minutes." Tony starts to pitch a fit by flailing his arms and hands like he's being electrocuted but Steve ignores him.
"Got it," Sam says. "Bye, mom."
Sam doesn’t disconnect the call, so Steve puts the phone in a top pocket so he can hear if Sam's delaying tactics work or not.
"I'll have to ditch getting the images from the video feeds, we've only got time for the audio," Tony says. "Your fault if they hold the key to all this."
"If you can't get evidence from just the audio, then you're not as clever as you keep saying you are," Steve says, hurriedly flicking through the rest of the drawers in search of another promising file. There's another two files without colorful tabs — he pushes them in to his waistband to join the other before tucking his shirt over them and joining Tony by the monitor. "Hurry up," Steve says.
"I'll just wave my fingers and get data to double its speed," Tony says, bringing up both of his hands and wriggling his fingers over the keyboard.
"Will that work?" Steve asks, and has to fight the urge to bury his face into his hands, because Tony's smirking wickedly. Even after all this time out of the ice, Steve's still running at full force into the jokes Tony leaves open for him.
Well, Steve would rather be occasionally embarrassed than not give everything his all.
"Is there no way to speed it up?" Steve asks.
"Yeah," Tony says. Steve perks up attentively. "Get me a rod of plutonium, a gullwinged car, a flux capacitor—"
"Okay, okay, I get it," Steve says, looking up at the door warily. He listens to the phone; Sam is talking loudly to Osborn about a fire escape protocol. Osborn's getting audibly bored.
"I know when I left you said it as a joke, but can you actually believe that you missed me when I wasn't here?" Tony asks, striking at the keyboard and doing what looks like some deletion program — erasing their digital footsteps, probably.
Steve moves his gaze from the door back to Tony. "When did I imply that?"
"Never, I was making a leaping guess," Tony says. Steve squints, wondering whether that's a passive-aggressive dig at Steve's continued inability to bring Batroc in. "But your lack of overt denial speaks volumes."
"Keep telling yourself that," Steve says, because the best way to wind Tony up is to be slightly agreeable and give him nothing solid to argue against.
"He's on his way in," Sam says. "Sixty seconds, tops. Might go faster if you skip the flirting."
"Aw, but babycakes, how else could I let you know you're my favorite?" Tony says, as Steve sighs and wonders what he did to deserve this life.