May 25th - 2009
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Stephen stood off to the side of the room in his cat form as he observed Tony getting ready for the press conference, his sharp blue eyes flicked between Tony and Agent Coulson, a hint of amusement playing on his lips as he listened to their exchange.
"Iron Man." Tony mused aloud, a faint grin tugging at his mouth. "That's kind of catchy. It's got a nice ring to it. I mean, it's not technically accurate. The suit's a gold-titanium alloy, but it's kind of evocative, the imagery, anyway."
Stephen tilted his head slightly, his voice calm and dry. "Not technically accurate is your entire brand, Anthony."
Tony turned to glance at him with a smirk, clearly delighted. "Not all of us are bound by the laws of mysticism, Steph. Some of us have to work within the realm of science and public relations."
Agent Coulson cleared his throat, clearly unamused. He handed Tony a crisp file. "Here's your alibi."
"I don't like being handed things." Tony pointed to the table where Coulson left the files before Tony could grab it, flipping it open with one hand. "Okay?"
Coulson's tone was clipped and professional as he continued, "You were on your yacht."
Tony raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. "Makes sense."
"We have port papers that put you in Avalon all night, and sworn statements from 50 of your guests," Coulson added, his tone matter-of-fact.
Tony leaned back in his seat, giving Coulson a sly grin. "See, I was thinking maybe we should say it was just Stephen and me alone on the island. You know, keeping it simple: just a man and his cat."
Stephen, perched near the corner, arched an eyebrow, his expression equal parts unimpressed and amused. "First of all, I'm not yours. Secondly, do I look like I have the time or interest to indulge your fantasies, Anthony?"
Tony smirked, unfazed. "You never know. It could add some intrigue."
Coulson sighed audibly, clearly choosing to ignore the banter. "That's what happened," he said firmly, pointing to the file. "Just read it, word for word."
Tony's grin faded slightly as he flipped through the file. His expression darkened when he looked back up. "There's nothing about Stane here."
Coulson's face didn't change, his professionalism unflinching. "That's being handled. He's on vacation. Small aircraft have such a poor safety record."
Stephen's posture stiffened slightly at the mention of Obadiah Stane. He exchanged a subtle glance with Coulson, but he didn't speak. The battle with Stane was still fresh in his memory, and while he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of a cover-up, he understood its necessity. Tony, however, wasn't as convinced.
Tony leaned back further in his chair, lightly tapping the file against his leg. "But what about this whole bodyguard story? I mean, come on, that's flimsy. I'm my—uh, he's my—uh..." He gestured vaguely, clearly frustrated. "You get my point."
Coulson raised an eyebrow, his calm tone turning firm. "This isn't my first rodeo, Mr. Stark. Stick to the official statement, and this will all be behind you. You've got 90 seconds."
Before Tony could argue further, Pepper walked in, exuding her usual calm efficiency despite the weariness in her eyes. She gave Stephen a brief nod before addressing Coulson. "Agent Coulson, I just wanted to thank you for all of your help."
Coulson inclined his head politely. "That's what we do. You'll be hearing from us."
Pepper frowned slightly. "From the Strategic Homeland…"
"Just call us SHIELD.," Coulson interrupted smoothly, cutting her off before walking away without another word.
Pepper blinked, shaking her head slightly. "Right. Let's get this show on the road."
Stephen followed at a measured pace as Pepper ushered Tony toward the press conference. Tony glanced back at him as they reached the edge of the room, and before Stephen could say anything, Tony bent down and scooped him up with ease. Stephen gave him a flat look but didn't protest.
"You know," Tony said, smirking as he adjusted Stephen in his arms, "it's actually not that bad. Even I don't think I'm Iron Man."
Stephen raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to be Iron Man to make poor decisions, Anthony."
Tony ignored the jab, turning his grin toward Pepper. "You know, if I were Iron Man, I'd have this partner who knew my true identity. He'd always be a wreck, worrying I was going to die. But he'd also be super proud of the man I've become. Proud and wildly conflicted, which would only make him crazier about me."
Pepper glanced between the two, a faintly amused expression flickering across her face. Stephen, unimpressed, gave Tony a pointed look. "Why does it have to be a 'he'?"
Tony shrugged, grinning. "Just feels right. Call it a hunch."
Stephen rolled his eyes. "Anthony, if you don't focus on the task at hand, you're going to end up saying something you regret."
Tony's smirk turned mischievous. "You know, for someone so old, you're kind of dense."
Pepper let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Good luck out there, Tony. You're going to need it."
Tony flashed her a quick grin before stepping through the doors, Stephen still perched in his arms, the faint hum of reporters filling the air as he prepared to face the press.
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Stephen had always hated crowds. The press conference was no exception.
As Tony strode confidently into the room, a sea of reporters surged forward, microphones and cameras aimed at him like weapons. Stephen sat in Tony's arms, his sleek black fur brushed to perfection (courtesy of a slightly-too-amused Tony earlier that morning). His eyes scanned the room, noting every exit, every journalist who seemed overeager, and every stray flash of movement. The cloak—now a bandana tied around his neck—rested silently, but its subtle twitching betrayed its readiness to spring into action.
James Rhodes stepped up first, his no-nonsense military demeanor firmly in place. "And now, Mr. Stark has prepared a statement."
Stephen flicked his tail lazily, though his sharp eyes didn't miss the surge of whispers from the crowd.
Tony took the podium, his usual smug grin firmly in place. "Thank you. Been a while since I was in front of you all. I figure I'll stick to the cards this time."
Stephen raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. Cards? He'd believe that when he saw it. The billionaire's penchant for improvisation was almost as predictable as his tendency to attract trouble.
Tony continued, holding up a small stack of notecards. "There's been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and the rooftop..."
Christine Everhart, quick as ever, cut him off mid-sentence, standing abruptly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but do you honestly expect us to believe that was a bodyguard in a suit conveniently appearing out of nowhere, alongside your cat, who was seen flying and saving civilians?"
Stephen let out an audible mrrow, interrupting her as he stretched in Tony's arms. The reporters chuckled, some murmuring about "the cat from the rooftop." Tony smirked, scratching behind Stephen's ears in what looked like an absent-minded gesture, but was clearly meant to deflect attention.
It clearly didn't work as another reporter joined in, raising her voice above the noise. "And how do you explain the footage showing your supposed bodyguard leaving the scene before you arrived, Mr. Stark? Witnesses say your cat was actively helping people while you were nowhere to be seen!"
Tony adjusted his grip on Stephen, scratching behind the cat's ears in another attempt to deflect attention. Stephen narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the tactic.
"Great questions," Tony said, his grin widening as he glanced down at Stephen. "First of all, let me just say, Steph here is a multitasker extraordinaire. But flying? Come on, now. Cats don't fly. They climb trees, maybe rescue themselves from getting stuck in one. Let's not get carried away with these tall tales."
Stephen swatted at Tony's hand with his paw, earning a ripple of laughter from the crowd. The billionaire's charm was doing its job, though the reporters weren't letting up.
"But the footage—" one of them began.
"Ah, yes, the footage," Tony interrupted smoothly. "Let me guess—grainy, shaky, probably shot on someone's old flip phone. Hardly reliable evidence, don't you think?"
Stephen let out another faint, annoyed mrrrow, making it clear he didn't approve of Tony's deflection. He wasn't sure what annoyed him more—the reporters' fixation on him or Tony's blatant use of him as a tactic of distraction.
Christine wasn't buying it. "So you're saying the bodyguard was in the suit, saving lives, and your cat just happened to be there, coincidentally involved in the rescue efforts?"
Tony's grin faltered slightly, and Stephen's ears twitched. He could feel the weight of the questions pressing in, the crowd growing increasingly skeptical.
"Well," Tony began, adjusting his grip on Stephen again, "I'm not saying Steph isn't special. He's got a certain charm, doesn't he?" He scratched behind Stephen's ears again, earning a soft, reluctant purr. "But come on, folks. Let's stick to the facts."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Tony paused, glancing down at the cards in his hand. Stephen watched him closely, sensing the internal struggle. For all his bravado, Tony was walking a tightrope.
Then came Rhodes' muttered warning from the sidelines. "Just stick to the cards, man."
"Okay," Tony said to him, before flashing the reporter a disarming smile. "I mean, look at him." He held Stephen up slightly, as though presenting him for inspection. "Does this look like the face of someone capable of flying and saving lives?"
Stephen batted at the air dramatically, earning more laughter from the crowd. Inside, he was seething. Anthony, you're insufferable.
"Easy there, buddy," Tony said softly to Stephen, though his gaze flicked pointedly toward Christine. "I know it's one thing to question the official story," Tony said, addressing the room now, "and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I'm a superhero."
Christine shot back without missing a beat. "I never said you were a superhero."
Tony leaned forward, his grin widening. "Didn't? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and fantastic."
Stephen's tail flicked in amusement as Tony continued, the billionaire's charisma drawing the room in despite the absurdity of the moment.
"I'm just not the hero type," Tony added with mock seriousness, holding Stephen up slightly like a prop for emphasis. "Clearly. I mean, look at me. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public..."
Stephen sighed dramatically, earning another ripple of laughter from the crowd. Tony tilted his head down, whispering just loud enough for only Stephen (and likely Rhodes) to hear, "You're stealing my spotlight, Steph."
Stephen's response was a low mrrp, which Tony took as permission to continue.
From the sidelines, Rhodes muttered, "The cards, man."
Tony glanced over at him, smirking. "Yeah… the cards." He shuffled the cards in his hand, but never looked at them. The room grew quieter, anticipation building as everyone leaned forward slightly. Even Stephen could feel the tension shifting.
Tony hesitated for only a second before tossing the cards onto the podium, his smirk widening into something more genuine.
"The truth is..." Tony began, glancing briefly at Stephen before meeting the eyes of the crowd.
Stephen's ears perked up. He knew that tone. Whatever Tony was about to say, it was going to shake things up.
"I am Iron Man."
The room exploded in noise—shouts, flashes of cameras, reporters surging forward with questions. Stephen barely flicked his tail as chaos erupted around them.
Tony leaned back slightly, a satisfied grin on his face as he turned and strolled away from the podium, Stephen still tucked under his arm. As they passed Rhodes, the colonel shot Tony a glare that somehow mixed irritation and resignation.
"You really couldn't stick to the cards, could you?" Rhodes muttered.
Tony shrugged, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Where's the fun in that?"
Stephen glanced up at Tony, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you ever make things simple?"
Tony smirked down at him, scratching under his chin. "Not my style, Steph. You should know that by now."
Stephen sighed, resting his head against Tony's arm as they walked. "I'm going to regret sticking around, aren't I?"
Tony grinned, his pace never slowing as they headed toward the exit. "Probably. But you'd be bored otherwise."
As the doors closed behind them, shutting out the cacophony of the press, Stephen huffed softly. "You're impossible."
"And yet," Tony quipped, his voice lighter now, "you're still here."
Stephen said nothing, though the faintest twitch of his tail betrayed his amusement. Impossible or not, Anthony Stark was proving to be a man worth sticking around for.
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