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Birds Not Of A Feather (can still flock together)

Summary:

It was obvious that Tony Stark had changed after Afghanistan, although some said not for the better. Small, flashy and annoying - that was Stark in a nutshell.

It was obvious that Phil Coulson was a man with hidden depths. What you saw was most definitely not all you got - and some of it could be deadly.

It wasn't like they were trying to keep it a secret. But when a new enemy surfaces, then several things will become very clear to those who really should have known better.

Notes:

Written for the Marvel Big Bang 2021. Wonderful art done by bererjs which can be found here on Tumblr.

Victor von Doom here is the film version, played by Julian McMahon, rather than the comics version. I also haven't specifically mentioned the Fantastic Four, so it's reader's choice as to whether they're in this universe or not.

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“Did you see it? Stark’s so desperate for attention that he even sends his Daemon to bug Fury.”

“Really? That was Stark? I’m surprised he lets it out of his sight.”

“Small and flashy. Of course that’s Stark; who else is it going to be?”  

Tony Stark slowly straightened up from where he’d been knelt down in the corridor, tying his shoe of all things. What was that saying about eavesdroppers never hearing anything good about themselves? Of course, he hadn’t been deliberately eavesdropping, but still.

A questioning hint of concern touched his mind. Something is wrong, said Alin. What is it? I will come and squash it!

No, no, no! Tony said, hurriedly, even as a small smile tried to fight its way through. No squashing! Dear God, it was like talking to the Hulk sometimes. Nothing’s wrong. Just someone mouthing off, as usual. You just stay put. The last thing he needed was his Daemon rampaging through SHIELD headquarters.

He had no idea why he’d even been called to headquarters. He wasn’t a SHIELD agent, and surely if there’d been something the Avengers needed to take care of, Director Fury would have called in more than just him.

“Ah, Stark. The Director’s waiting for you,” Agent Phil Coulson announced, suddenly appearing out of an adjoining corridor and making Tony jump.

“Jesus,” he hissed, clutching theatrically at his chest. “I have a heart condition you know, Agent! It’s a bad idea to sneak up on me!”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” said Coulson, blandly. He stepped aside and gestured for Tony to precede him.

Tony thought about protesting that he didn’t need a babysitter, but he really didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary and arguing with Coulson would get him nowhere. It never did; he’d once spent three hours arguing with the man, and had come away hungry, tired and exasperated. Even Coulson had been looking a little frazzled that time, but he still hadn’t backed down.

So Tony obediently stepped out towards Fury’s office.

“Nope, this way,” Coulson corrected. Tony yelped as he found himself abruptly tugged sideways into a completely different corridor. One that he knew damn well went nowhere near Director Fury’s office.

He opened his mouth to point this out but caught a glimpse of Coulson’s face and closed it again. The SHIELD agent’s expression was as flat and calm as it ever was, but his eyes were gleaming. A flush of excitement went through Tony, and he clenched a hand into a fist as his fingers began to tingle.

Coulson gestured for Tony to precede him into Coulson’s own office. He’d barely shut the door and flipped the lock before Tony was slamming into him, arms around him and hands heading straight for his ass, his mouth attaching itself to Coulson’s neck as though Tony was a vampire.

“Oh, God, I missed you,” Tony groaned into his skin.

Phil laughed at him, even as his own arms came up around Tony as well to pull him even closer. “You just saw me not two hours ago!” he reminded the other man.

“That was two hours ago,” said Tony, finally leaning back to admire the hickey he’d just placed on Phil’s neck. “One hundred twenty whole minutes without you, Phil. That’s completely unacceptable.”

“We are not having surgery to join us at the hip,” said Phil, rolling his eyes.

Tony wiggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t need surgery for it,” he suggested, rolling his hips against Phil’s to indicate what he meant. As though Phil had never heard any of his innuendoes before.

Phil laughed at him again, then gave him a quick peck on the lips. “No,” he said, but the smile took the sting out of it, even as Tony pouted at him. “Rebo said the rumours have started up again.”

Tony sighed but relaxed his weight to merely lean against his partner. “The rumours have never stopped,” he corrected. “And I don’t know why the flashy little menace bothers to tell you that considering it’s his fault, anyway. He was seen bothering Fury again.”

Phil studied the other man for a moment. “Do I need to have words with people?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s nothing that hasn’t been said before,” Tony informed him. “And besides, then you’d deprive Rebo of most of his fun.”

“And we can’t have that, can we?” Phil shook his head. He actually found his Daemon’s behaviour towards Fury just as funny as Rebo himself did. The little hummingbird enjoyed dive-bombing the SHIELD Director or otherwise just generally making a nuisance of himself. Fury valued Phil too much to ever really discipline Rebo the way he no doubt wanted to.

He was also the only one to know that the hummingbird Daemon was Phil’s, not Tony’s as everybody else in SHIELD assumed. Fury got a kick out of everyone underestimating him, despite the rumours of just what a badass Phil was.

It wasn’t like they’d meant for people to assume Rebo was Tony’s. Tony’s Daemon Shift had been a magpie before Afghanistan; which was actually how they’d met – Tony had been out flying one day and had spotted a tuft of what he’d thought was a left behind feather, except when he swooped down on it, it had turned out to be a feather that was still very much attached to a hummingbird, who had promptly attacked him in turn. Tony had turned back in defence, only for the hummingbird to change back, too, and then Tony’s blood had been up for an entirely different reason.

Phil had still not been amused.

Their relationship from there had developed in a way that Tony was never sure whether to call it slow or fast. Once that first argument had blown over, they just slotted into each other’s lives as though they’d always been there.

But Tony had never met anyone from SHIELD until the whole Iron Man debacle, and hadn’t realised that Phil, naturally, kept his Daemon Shift on the downlow as it wasn’t a good thing for a secret agent to be identified by their Daemon. So when Rebo had practically dive-bombed him in concern the night that Obie had… the night when Iron Man had been revealed to the world, Tony hadn’t hesitated to make a fuss of the bird, trying to calm and reassure him.

The lead headline of all the papers the next day had been how Tony’s Daemon had changed from a magpie to a hummingbird.

To be fair, Tony’s Daemon had changed. It just hadn’t changed to another bird. But nobody had seen him yet; they’d only seen Rebo. And once Tony started dropping in on SHIELD… well, the flashy little menace became a lot more visible, and their connection solidified in people’s minds.

“Did Fury actually want to see me?” Tony wondered, now. “Or was it just your sneaky way of getting me here?”

“It could be both,” Phil pointed out. “But in this case, Director Fury just asked me to pass on a message to you.”

“And it couldn’t be passed while we were at home in the Tower?”

“It’s an official message.” Phil squirmed as one of Tony’s hands began to wander upwards. “Stop that,” he ordered, although not very firmly. “Didn’t you get your fill this morning?”

Tony smirked at him. “Of course not, have you met me?” he asked, but he looped the hand over Phil’s shoulder. “So what’s the message?”

“The Director has a mission for Clint and Natasha, but they’re going to be based out of the Tower for it, so he’d like to request that the footage doesn’t show them going in and out. It needs to look as if they’re there if anyone goes looking.”

Tony drew back slightly, looking offended. “Excuse you, are you trying to say that someone might actually be able to get past JARVIS to look at footage from inside the Tower?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you like taking cold showers, Phil, because that’s what you’re going to get if you say that anywhere near where JARVIS can hear you.”

“And there aren’t many places where I can’t hear you, Agent Coulson,” the AI added from Tony’s phone, his voice muffled by the pocket.

“I said ‘in and out’,” Phil pointed out. “Obviously they wouldn’t be able to access footage inside the Tower, but the exits are visible.”

Both of Tony’s eyebrows rose this time. “You’re expecting me to believe that the Ultimate Spy Twins can’t enter and exit a building without being seen?” His hand wandered downwards to pinch at Phil’s side. “Tell me about Santa Claus, Phil; I might actually believe that.”

“Ow.” Phil batted his hand away, then sighed. “They’re investigating a magic user called Doom. We don’t know how much he knows about them, or whether he can see through Shifts or not. Director Fury doesn’t want to risk it.”

“Wait a minute. Doom… as in Victor von Doom?” Tony asked, incredulously. “He’s a magic user? Since when!”

“Since he took a team up into space and there was an accident involving cosmic radiation,” Phil informed him. “I wasn’t aware you knew Doom.”

Tony frowned. “Well, knew is probably too strong a word,” he said. “We travel in the same circles occasionally. Although I suppose it has been a while since I’ve run into him at a party. Are you sure about the accident? I never heard anything…”

“I don’t think it was a big headline, just the fact that his scientific team got caught outside their space station when a cosmic storm unexpectedly rolled over them. They were all checked out once they got back to Earth and were given a clean bill of health.”

“Except for the part where Victor suddenly sprouts magic,” said Tony, sounding disgusted.

“Just look at it as a more advanced form of science,” said Phil, chuckling at the face Tony pulled and giving him a swift kiss on the cheek.

Tony sighed and straightened up. He would prefer to stay right where he was, but he had work to do, they both did. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “JARVIS will keep an eye out. Anything else Fury wants me to know?”

“No.” Phil ran an absent hand down his chest, ensuring his shirt was wrinkle-free. “I’ll see you later.”

Tony smirked at him before slipping out of the office. He glanced up at the flutter of tiny wings. Rebo had been perched on the door frame and was now flying circles above Tony’s head. “Menace,” said Tony, fondly, but didn’t bother trying to shoo the Daemon off as he wandered back the way he’d come. He saw a few agents pointing discretely at him – or in a way that they thought was discrete – as he went but ignored them. Honestly, if this was the standard of agents Fury had, then the entire organisation needed a shake-up.

“You don’t make things easier, you know,” he said softly as the Daemon landed on his shoulder just as he reached the main entrance. “Sure, people are idiots and there’s that whole saying about being an ass, but still.”

I like being with you, Rebo informed him, briefly sticking his long beak under the neck of Tony’s shirt. It helps, sometimes, when we have to be far away.

And just like that, Tony felt himself falling in love all over again. Who knew that Agent Phil Coulson had a soppy side? “I know,” he said, reaching up to gently rub a finger over the hummingbird’s head. “I just wish that Alin could return the favour.” That was one of the major downsides of having a Daemon that settled into an… uncommon shape. It just wasn’t practical for Alin to accompany him now, let alone go and spent time with Phil. It was the only time that he selfishly wished Afghanistan hadn’t happened.

Rebo bobbed up and down and pecked him on the ear. “Ow!” Tony exclaimed. “Beast! See if I let you sit there again any time soon.”

You were brooding, said Rebo, fluttering his wings. You can’t change things.

“I know, and I wouldn’t really want to,” he assured the Daemon. “I just hate the thought that we can’t help Phil like this, the way he does.”

We have you at home, and nothing prevents me from spending time with Alin. That helps. Rebo fluttered again, causing Tony to shiver as his wings brushed the man’s neck. Excuse me, that man is about to sit under my tree…

Tony couldn’t help but grin as the Daemon darted off. The SHIELD agent who’d been trying to get a bit of fresh air without being burnt to a crisp by the sun was about to get a nasty surprise. Ducking into the back of the car that was waiting for him, the last thing he heard was a shrill scream of surprise.


Stepping into the lower pool area for his morning swim, his chipmunk Daemon clinging to his shoulder, Clint Barton was brought up short when he discovered that the pool was already occupied. “Hey, Nat!” he called back over his shoulder. “Hurry up! Phil’s here!”

Natasha Romanoff sauntered into the pool area. She rushed for no man, even if she was almost as fond of Phil as she was of Clint. She casually dropped her towel on one of the loungers before turning to look into the water. “Shift or Daemon?” she wondered, as the pair of eyes just above the water blinked at her.

“Who cares?” Clint shrugged as he dropped his own towel on the floor. “I’m just glad to see him.” He waved at the large animal in the pool. “Hey, Phil, how’s the paperwork coming?” Water sprayed upwards as the animal huffed out a breath and sank below the waterline. “That bad, huh?”

Natasha pursed her lips as she studied the rippling outline of the hippo. Phil had never confirmed his Daemon Shift to them, but it had been obvious once they’d seen it. Small, unassuming area above the surface but fast and deadly and mean once it came out of the water. Really, she didn’t think there could be a more suitable animal for Phil Coulson than a hippo.

Of course, she and Clint had been exceedingly careful not to mention it anywhere where other SHIELD agents might hear them. Their handler hadn’t wanted it bandied about for a reason, and that reason still held even if he had moved into Stark’s Tower with the rest of them, no doubt to keep a weather eye on Stark himself.

And speak of the devil…

Stark’s hummingbird flashed through the air, plunging towards the water above Phil’s hippo. The hippo rose up to the surface again, and the hummingbird landed neatly on its head, pecking at its ears with its stupidly long beak.

“Honestly, Stark, leave Coulson alone!” Clint barked, propping his fists on his hips. Wren, his Daemon, chittered angrily in agreement. “Go bother somebody else.” The hummingbird merely tilted its head at him.

“Why, what am I supposed to be doing now?” Stark’s voice floated out of mid-air. “You’ll have to be more specific, Agent Barton.”

Listening closely, Natasha could hear laughter in his voice. She shook her head; Stark really did have the maturity of a six-year-old. He loved getting under people’s skin, bothering them until they snapped. Why on earth Phil’s hippo didn’t just eat Stark’s hummingbird she’d never know.

“We’re trying to swim in peace here, and your hummingbird’s just getting in the way,” Clint complained. “Better get it out of here, Stark, before I jump in and drown it.”

“Suppose I’d better get my hummingbird out of the way then, hadn’t I?” said Stark, and there was something else there in his voice now, but Natasha didn’t have the chance to determine what it was before there was a sharp click and the air went dead.

Stark’s hummingbird was staring at both SHIELD agents now, its head cocked to one side. Phil’s hippo had sunk a little deeper into the water but not so far as to displace the bird.

And then, before Natasha even realised it intended to move, the hummingbird was darting straight towards Clint. Clint let out a yelp and ducked, covering his head and Wren, as the bird buffeted at them with its wings, trying its best to stab him in the eyes. Clint gave another yelp as one of its talons swung up and caught him a blow across the cheek.

“Damn it, Stark, fuck off!” Clint bellowed, trying his best to wave off the hummingbird without actually uncovering his head or exposing his chipmunk. “Go bother somebody else for a change!”

The Daemon only left off its attack when Phil’s hippo rose from the water, but instead of darting away in fear, the bird merely circled back to land once again on the hippo’s head, its beak coming down to run across the hippo’s skin in what, for anybody else, Natasha would have called affection. Of course, this was Phil – and a SHIELD agent – so that was ridiculous. But instead of doing something to get rid of the dratted Daemon bird, the hippo began making its slow, ponderous way out of the pool.

On the opposite side from where Clint and Natasha stood.

“You think Phil’s gonna go tell him off?” Clint asked, carefully straightening up to watch the Daemons exit the water. The hippo was heading for the freight elevator that Stark had had installed. Idly, Natasha wondered just when Stark had known that Phil was going to move into the Tower, because as far as she was aware, nobody else that used the Tower had a Daemon big enough that would need an elevator that size. And certainly not one that would need to reach this pool level.

“We can but hope,” she said to Clint. “Maybe Phil will come back and join us once he’s done. In the meantime, bet I can complete fifty laps before you do!” And she dived into the pool, leaving Clint yelling and Wren squeaking in protest as she deliberately splashed them.


How dare they? Rebo was resting on the top of Alin’s head as the elevator rose upwards, quivering with rage and the desire to go back and peck their eyes out. How dare they say such things! Even if you don’t like a person, to threaten to harm their Daemon…! That is not the kind of thing a person should say!

They’re SHIELD agents, Alin pointed out, carefully. Tony – and consequently Alin himself – had no great love for SHIELD, despite Phil and Rebo working there, but they never outright disparaged anyone so as not to risk tripping over their partner’s loyalty.

Then they’re not a good fit! Rebo retorted, and idly ran his beak down between Alin’s eyes. If they can say something like that to a civilian, then they need to be stood down for a very long while. What happens if they run across an annoying Daemon on a mission? They can’t just go around killing them!

“They wouldn’t have killed you,” said Phil, causing Rebo to jump. The little Daemon hadn’t noticed the elevator slowing to a halt, nor the doors opening. Phil extended his hand and Rebo hopped into it, running his beak across Phil’s wrist as a gesture of greeting.

They wanted to try, the hummingbird said, darkly. They wanted to hurt Tony’s Daemon. They wanted to hurt Tony.

And that was the problem in a nutshell, Phil knew. Someone had threatened the person they loved. Threatened them with one of the worst things someone could do to another person.

“I know,” he murmured to Rebo, shifting the Daemon up to his shoulder and resting his other hand on Alin’s head as he got onto the elevator beside the hippo. “But you wouldn’t have let them, and neither would Alin. I’ll have a word with them, too. They won’t do it again.”

They’d better not, grumbled Rebo, clicking his beak together.

If they do, I’ll just sit on them, Alin chimed in, tilting his head so that he could better look upwards at the hummingbird.

“Preferably somewhere outside the Tower,” Tony’s voice added over the intercom as the elevator doors closed and it began to rise again. “Squashing people always makes such a mess, and although I pay my cleaners exceedingly well to deal with my mess, I don’t think they’d appreciate cleaning up a squashed human.”

Depends on the human, Alin said.

Phil spluttered a laugh, even though it would only encourage the irrepressible hippo. “I’ll talk to them,” he repeated. “In the meantime,” he added to Rebo, “you go spend some time with Tony, and Alin can stay with me while I finish off some paperwork.”

“Or,” said Tony as the elevator doors opened again to reveal him, “you could all just come to my lab. Hmm.” He tapped a finger on his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Would you look at that?” He took an exaggerated look around his workshop. “Looks like you already have.” He reached out to grab Phil’s hand and pulled him from the elevator. “Hi there,” he said, huskily, pulling Phil against him.

Hihihi! Rebo chirped, delightedly, bouncing across to sit on Tony’s shoulder and immediately running his beak through Tony’s hair.

Phil gave Tony a quick kiss, then shuffled them aside before Alin got impatient and barged out of the elevator. It was not pleasant being knocked over by a hippo, as they had unfortunate first-hand experience of. Alin lumbered past them towards his own little wallow area, with Tony’s bots Dum-E and U beeping excitedly at him as they charged after the Daemon.

“Sorry to disrupt your work,” Phil started, but Tony gave a careful shake of his head, trying not to dislodge the hummingbird that had hopped up onto his head and seemed to be in the process of building his hair into a nest.

“It’s fine,” he said. “You guys never bother me, you know that. You’re okay working from here for a bit, right?”

“Of course,” Phil assured him. “And it’s almost time for my monthly foot mud bath anyway.” He gave Tony a quick squeeze and then followed Alin. JARVIS obligingly brought up several holo-screens for him as he settled himself on the bench beside Alin’s mud wallow and carefully dipped his bare feet into the cool mud, resting them against what felt like the hippo’s side. The AI also had several of his files already open on those screens, and Phil very carefully didn’t mention the fact that those files had been buried deeply in SHIELD’s servers and heavy encrypted. It would have been a waste of breath and time; JARVIS no doubt barely even blinked at retrieving the files for him.

Instead, he merely lost himself in the tedious rhythm of paperwork, and the gentle rise and fall of Alin’s breathing.


They were woken the next morning by the ungodly screech of metal and JARVIS’ wavering slur of, “Sir, I regret to inform youuuuuu—” before it trailed off into a burst of static.

“Shit!” Tony was grabbing whatever pieces of his armour had made their way into their bedroom as he dashed for the doorway. “JARVIS is down, Tower is breeched,” he called over his shoulder as Phil rolled out of bed and came up with his gun already in hand. Thank God for the fact they never slept naked; they’d had too many calls to assemble, and had learnt the hard way that although it was awkward having to put clothes back on after… certain activities, when all they wanted was sleep, it was much more awkward trying to scramble for an attack and put clothes on at the same time.

Scooping his earpiece from the bedside table, Phil wiggled it into place. Reports from various SHIELD agents both outside and lower down the Tower were coming in. “It’s some man in a grey cloak floating in mid-air breaking in,” he called back to Tony. “He appears to be able to manipulate metal; the Tower is breaking outwards towards him.”

“You sure it’s not Magneto?” Tony checked, pausing for a split second as the rest of his armour barrelled up the emergency stairwell towards him. Rebo was fluttering madly around his head, darting towards the window and back again. “Though why on earth he’d be attacking me rather than Charles is anybody’s guess,” he added.

Phil paused in the bedroom doorway, head tilted as he listened to reports. “No, it’s not Magneto,” he assured Tony. “But he’s shooting some energy bolts around, so be careful.”

The Iron Man armour finished assembling around Tony and he grinned at Phil through the open faceplate. “I’m always careful,” he said, and slapped it down. He activated his thrusters and burst out of the window in a shower of glass, Rebo flashing along behind him.

Phil shook his head in exasperation just as Alin lumbered into view. “I’m surprised his nose didn’t grow with that lie,” he said.

“Hey, buddy!” he heard Iron Man yell outside the building. “Tower has a front door, you know! Also, opening hours are seven am to midnight, so I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to come back later when the Tower is open for business.”

Another screech of metal, and the tinkle of falling glass, was the only reply that Phil heard. If the grey-cloaked figure made any other response, it wasn’t something he could see.

“Sir, he appears to be attempting to gain entrance to mine and Clint’s floor,” said Natasha’s voice in his ear. She fired her own gun but presumably failed to slow or even hit whatever she was firing at, as Phil didn’t hear any grunts of pain or sounds of a body falling.

“Probably this Doom guy, then,” Clint added, over the twanging sound of his bow. “Guess Stark’s little toy didn’t manage to disguise us after all.”

“Well, considering he uses magic, then it was always going to be a long shot,” said Phil, mildly, although he gritted his teeth at the insult to JARVIS. He edged his way through the lounge area. Tony’s exit through the window would make it easier for someone else to get in.

“Iron Man, what are you doing?” Natasha suddenly asked, and Phil froze. What was Iron Man doing? “Iron Man!” Natasha snapped. “Don’t be more of an idiot than you usually are! Get away from him!”

There was a harsh snap of static in the earpiece that made Phil wince and Natasha and Clint curse. A rumble of sound caused Phil to whirl and bring his gun up to bear, but all he could see was Alin.

Whose eyes had gone wide with alarm.

“Shit,” said Phil. He held out a hand towards Alin, hoping that Tony’s Daemon wasn’t panicked enough to ignore him now. The last thing they needed was a stampeding hippo crashing through the battlefield, or a sudden Shift in mid-air from Iron Man. “Alin, what’s happening?” he asked.

He has Tony, the Daemon said, and turned a begging gaze on Phil. He has captured Tony and Rebo in some kind of electrical netting. He cannot break free.

Oh, God. Phil’s head swam, and he had to shake it hard to settle himself. He hadn’t felt any alarm from Rebo, but then he wouldn’t. He and his Daemon had been in too many fights together to distract the other like that. But if Tony and Rebo had been captured…

Another shriek of distressed metal, along with a sizzling sound that was reminiscent of high voltage wires, came across the earpiece.

“He’s gone, sir!” Clint barked, and the sound of wind and traffic increased as the archer obviously approached the place where the still unknown figure had tried to gain entry. “He captured Iron Man and his Daemon in some sort of netting. He seemed kinda surprised at first, but then he flew off with them.”

“Did they look injured?” Phil wanted to know. That probably – definitely – wasn’t the first thing he should ask, but damn it, he couldn’t help it. He rested his hand on Alin’s head. At least if there were any major problems, Alin would be the first to know.

“No,” Clint replied. Phil blew out a silent breath of relief. “Why didn’t Iron Man just Shift?” he continued on a grumble. “Small thing like that could have easily ducked the net.”

“Because he wouldn’t have left his suit behind,” said Natasha, calmly. “Do you need assistance where you are, sir?”

It took Phil a moment to register the question, and a moment more to realise why she’d asked it. For two people who touted themselves as SHIELD’s greatest spies, they had yet to discover that Phil lived on Tony’s floor. As they seemed to hold the assumption that Alin was his Daemon, no doubt they expected him to live lower down the Tower.

“No, I’m fine,” he informed them, and anyone else on comms still listening. “Is there anyone who can see about rebooting JARVIS? He might have seen something before he was taken offline. And somebody see about liaising with Miss Potts regarding a contractor to repair whatever section of the Tower was just broken. And somebody,” he added with a resigned sigh, “should get Director Fury on the line to inform him that his latest mission is a bust.”

There was an amused cough from someone. Phil didn’t know who, but he rather suspected Clint, especially when the archer piped up, “I’m afraid that one’s all on you, sir. You are in charge here, after all.”

So he was. Phil tugged the earpiece out of his ear and tossed it onto the nearby table, then knelt down and pressed his forehead to Alin’s snout. “I have to go,” he said to the Daemon. “I need to organise things, repairs and reports and JARVIS. I don’t know if I should take you with me. Should,” he repeated, as he felt Alin stir. “But screw ‘should’. I have to. I need you with me.”

As if I’d let you go alone anyway, Alin said with a snort. Just as Rebo’s with Tony, so I’ll be with you. You can use the conference room on floor sixty-three. That’s big enough for me to stay nearby and also out of the way.

“Okay.” Phil nodded in agreement but made no move to get up. “Oh, God, Tony,” he whispered against Alin’s skin, closing his eyes. His heart was beginning to pound with both fear and adrenaline, now that the battle was over, and he wanted nothing more than to fling himself out of the Tower and Shift into Rebo so that he could follow Tony.

But Rebo was already with Tony right now, and no doubt a form of much needed comfort; or so Phil hoped. And if Phil went tearing off after them, that would leave Alin here alone and unable to help anybody. Plus he had a job to do here. They’d always sworn that their feelings for each other wouldn’t get in the way of the jobs they had to do, which meant that Phil had to remain here at the Tower, fixing things and gathering information until they knew who had taken Tony and why.

He'll be alright, Alin whispered back. He’ll be fine. He has Rebo, and we will get them both back.

“We will,” Phil agreed. He inhaled and released it in a shaky sigh, then got to his feet. “Let’s get to work.”


Victor von Doom, it transpired, didn’t use magic at all, but instead had some kind of power of electricity. Which explained how he’d discovered where Clint and Natasha were, because when JARVIS was finally back up and running – after five hours and a visit from Colonel James Rhodes, who was the only one Tony had trusted to have the codes for his AI – he discovered that somebody had managed to piggyback their way into his camera system.

The AI was not pleased.

“I’m sure that Tony will be happy to improve your system, once we get him back,” Phil assured him. “But before we can do that… were you able to backtrack the signal at all?”

“Unfortunately, I was not,” said JARVIS, sounding distinctly sulky. “It appears that Doom shut down his system as soon as he no longer needed it. The best I can discover is that he would have needed to be extremely close to access the Tower’s network.”

“How close?” Natasha asked.

“At the least within the City,” JARVIS informed her. A holographic map of New York City popped up over the conference table. “I am currently searching through city records for any sign of Doom, but so far I have not come across anything dated after the incident in space, which was in 2005.”

Phil frowned. That was a long time to not have records. Doom had to have been somewhere doing something in the meantime. “He’s not American, right?” he said. “Would he have gone back home after that incident?”

“I have found no passport or visa to suggest that he did so,” JARVIS informed him. “Although that is not to say that he didn’t. He was born in Latveria, a little country in the middle of Europe, and lived there until he came to America to attend MIT when he was seventeen.”

“Do we know what his Daemon Shift is?” Steve Rogers asked, leaning on the table to look at Phil. The wood creaked under his weight, so he hastily shifted backwards. “Is it something that would require special accommodations?”

Phil shook his head before JARVIS could respond. “It used to be a scarlet macaw, but that disappeared after the incident in space. We’ve never been able to find out what it changed to.”

“Did he have any friends at MIT?” Bruce Banner asked, nervously cleaning his glasses with the tail of his shirt before sliding them back onto his nose. “Perhaps he kept in touch with some of them?”

This time it was Natasha that shook her head. “No, he was too ambitious,” she said. “After MIT, he spent most of his time building up his business empire. He barely even dated anyone. And after the space incident, his business imploded pretty spectacularly, and he disappeared.”

“What exactly was this space incident?” Steve wondered.

Several more screens popped up. “Mr von Doom was funding a small groups of scientists who wished to go into space to research an approaching cosmic wind under the basis that a similar phenomenon had occurred around the time of the big bang and had influenced human evolution in ways that scientists were still discovering,” explained JARVIS. “They hoped that studying this second phenomenon would assist them in learning more about how evolution works and, perhaps, assist them in finding cures for diseases and conditions that mankind hasn’t been able to eradicate yet.”

The screens flipped through what looked like somebody’s presentation, and then slowed to a stop on blueprints for an extremely large space station. “Mr von Doom’s company already had a satellite station in orbit,” JARVIS continued, “and in exchange for a hefty percentage of profits, applications and patents, he agreed to take the scientists up to study the storm. Unfortunately, the cosmic storm advanced much quicker than anyone had expected, and the station and its personnel were caught unprepared. They did their best to shield, but at least one scientist was outside the station when the storm arrived, and his attempt at re-entrance to the station opened a gap in the shielding for the winds to pass through the station. And the scientists in its way.”

“You’re not telling me that Doom was doing anything other than cowering behind the shields, are you?” asked Clint, dubious. “He’s a businessman, not a scientist.”

“All reports state that Mr von Doom was indeed in a part of the station protected by the solar shields,” said JARVIS. “He was given a clean bill of health upon return to Earth, as were all the scientists.”

“And yet something happened to him,” Natasha pointed out. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to attack us like that. Still.” Her expression turned contemplative. “Why decide to attack us now?” She glanced around the table. “The Avengers have been together for over a year now, and Iron Man was active for four years before that, so why has Doom only come out of hiding now? What does he want?” She glanced at Phil. “Or what doesn’t he want us to have?”

Phil could only shake his head at her. “You’d have to ask Director Fury that question,” he said. “I wasn’t told anything other than that you and Clint would be attempting to investigate Doom, and that I should ask Stark for a way to prevent Doom knowing you were coming and going from the Tower.”

Steve tapped a finger on the table. “That can wait,” he said. “We don’t need to know why Doom was under investigation at the moment; we need to know where he would have taken Tony, and how we can get him back.”

“Where were you supposed to be investigating Doom at?” Bruce asked, removing his glasses to fiddle with them again as all eyes turned to him. “You had to have been given a starting point; so we should start there.”

It was a good point, but any response that Natasha or Clint might have made was lost to Phil as Alin stiffened. He’d settled down in the far corner of the conference room, so that nobody risked tripping over – or onto – him, but Phil had deliberately placed himself so that he could stretch out a foot to keep in contact with the Daemon.

“What is it?” he asked, silently.

Doom is trying to break into the armour, Alin reported. Given his power, it may not take him very long. Tony still has no idea what he wants.

“Where’s Rebo?” Phil asked. Doom had captured the little Daemon with Tony; no doubt, like everyone else, the madman thought Rebo belonged to Tony. If he attempted to hurt Rebo to make Tony talk, then their secret was going to be out pretty damn quick.

Hiding in the roof, said Alin, and Phil breathed a silent sigh of relief. They are in a big room, even bigger than this one. It is full of machinery, but Rebo doesn’t know what it does.

“Does Tony?”

Generators, Alin reported after a long moment. A lot of generators. Tony thinks that maybe now Doom has discovered an arc reactor in his reach, he will want it so as to be able to draw a lot more power.

“Phil? Sir?”

Phil jolted as he realised that the other occupants of the room were staring at him. “Sorry, I was talking with Alin. He had a good point; if Doom now has access to an arc reactor, and the ability to interact with the energy from it, he may bring up his timetable for whatever his plans are.”

Bruce winced. “With the energy of a reactor, he could level the entire City,” he said.

“Including himself,” Natasha pointed out, frowning.

“But why would having a little one like the one in Stark’s suit be more preferable than a bigger one?” asked Clint, raising a finger to draw everyone’s attention to himself. “Stark took this place off the grid, right?” He glanced between Phil and Bruce. “Big-ass reactor under the Hudson River. Why can’t Doom just tap that one?”

“Because there is a fail-safe,” JARVIS answered him. “More than one, actually. Additionally, you would require diving equipment to reach the reactor. Sir had to build a suit with underwater capabilities specifically for the task. And that suit,” he added, anticipating Natasha’s next question, “is still safely locked away in sir’s workshop, Agent Romanoff.”

Her snake Daemon, Yela, lifted her head from Natasha’s wrist and hissed upwards, presumably at JARVIS. Phil rather thought it was tough luck if the Daemon didn’t like the way the AI spoke to the other half of her; considering just what that other half had done to Tony, then the snake was lucky to even be allowed in the Tower.

Phil cleared his throat. “So if Doom was only banking on his own power, then he’d need generators, correct?” he asked. “So where could he store them?”

Conversation immediately deteriorated into all of them pulling apart the holographic image of New York, trying to figure the best place for a madman to store what could possibly be large equipment. Phil followed the points carefully, and hoped to God that Tony and Rebo were okay.


Tony hated being kept in the dark, both figuratively and literally. What made it worse this time was that Doom – if it was Doom – had somehow managed to shut down the power in his armour, leaving him not only in the dark but also helpless as he was tugged along through the air.

He assumed, anyway. He didn’t think that the villain had managed to strap him to the underside of a jet plane without him noticing.

“Rebo? You okay?” he asked mentally. He didn’t know if the little Daemon was even close enough, let alone whether he’d manage to hear Tony through the armour.

I’m fine, the Daemon assured him. Caught in this net with you, but unharmed.

Net? Oh, yes, that was partly how whoever this was had managed to capture him, although he had no idea how on earth a net had managed to shut down all the power.

A frisson of shock went through him as that thought triggered a very bad one, and Tony’s gaze shot downwards. He couldn’t see. Shit, the armour had lost all power and he couldn’t see whether the arc reactor was still functioning or not. Damn it, whose bright idea had it been to design the armour so that the chest plate sat snugly over the arc reactor?

Oh, yeah. Mine.

Alin says you’re panicking about the arc reactor, said Rebo. It’s fine, Tony. Still shining bright, no flickering at all.

“Oh, thank God,” Tony said, out loud, unable to help himself. He thought that, just this once, he could be forgiven. This wouldn’t be the first time that a villain had thought to take Iron Man out of a battle by shutting down his armour – although that was usually via a standard EMP, rather than however this net had done it – but EMPs tended to adversely affect his reactor, too. He carried a spare for precisely that reason, and there were protocols for ensuring a team member could reach it.

It did beg the question, though, of how this villain, that Tony was going to call Doom just because it made it easier, had managed to shut down the armour without also shutting down the arc reactor.

“Any idea where we are?” he asked Rebo.

We’re still in New York, but aside from that, no, the hummingbird informed him. Although we seem to be approaching our destination.

To confirm this, whatever was holding Tony abruptly swooped downwards. Tony cursed as the sudden change in force caused his head to bang the inside of his helmet. The sudden contact with solid ground jarred his entire body, and he felt himself go rolling along.

Tony! Rebo squawked. He’s tipped us out of the net. Are you alright?

“Fine,” gasped Tony, thankful that he wasn’t speaking aloud to Rebo, otherwise the slur that his voice would surely have would have given him away. He hated it when things happened to him and he couldn’t see. It always gave him hideous vertigo. “Whereabouts are we?”

I don’t know the location exactly, but we’re in a large warehouse; I think on the outskirt of the city, Rebo told him.

“Where are you?” Tony suddenly thought to wonder. He obviously hadn’t rolled on the little Daemon already, but he didn’t want to make any sudden moves until he was certain he wouldn’t crush Rebo.

In the rafters, said Rebo. I’m unsure if he noticed me fly up here, but it seems he isn’t after me for the moment.

Was that good news, or bad? Tony wondered. Doom had ensured that he trapped both Tony and Rebo, presumably under the same impression as everybody else – that Rebo was his Daemon. Surely if he’d gone to that much trouble, he would care that half of his plan could wing itself out of the window.

Something outside the armour suddenly lit up in a flash of light bright enough that Tony could see it even though his HUD was still off. It felt as though he were lying in the centre of a hundred floodlights, and he really hoped that Doom wasn’t going to try and sweat him out of the armour.

Said armour abruptly gave off a crackling sound. Tony winced at both the noise and the jolt it gave him. Several of his electrical systems began flickering on and off, almost as if someone was running electricity through various parts of him one after the other in an attempt to see what they did. Phil had said Doom appeared to have some kind of power of metal. So where was Doom, who was working on him now, and just how many people were in this warehouse?

“Rebo!” he shouted. “What’s happening out there?”

There was a long pause from the hummingbird, and Tony found himself holding his breath as another burst of electricity caused his right ankle to flex.

Doom does not control metal, the Daemon said, finally, sounding disturbed. He has some kind of electric-like power, and is currently using it to try and get into your suit. There are generators circling this room; Doom’s drawing power from them.

Hmm, a lesser version of Thor’s powers, then? Tony shuddered as another crackle of electricity ran across his back. He could feel the sensors placed there trying to capture the power to store it, as they’d done when Thor had lit him up, but for some reason the power just ran straight out again. Another strand of electric pinged over his arc reactor. Both it and the reactor paused.

Tony! Alin bellowed in his mind, obviously feeling the moment of panic that engulfed him. What’s wrong? Are you alright?

“Aside from the villain trying to break into my suit by force? Just peachy,” said Tony, breathlessly. “Are you alright? Where are you?”

In the hippo-friendly conference room with the Avengers, Alin told him.

“Phil?” Tony demanded, suddenly worried about not only himself. Doom had been attacking the Tower; he could have done anything to it after capturing Tony and Rebo.

Alin made a reassuring noise. Fine. Safe, he said. Here beside me. What about you, and Rebo? Is Rebo still with you?

I’m fine, Rebo himself butted into the conversation. Still perched in the rafters. This is a very big warehouse, Tony, and full of generators. I don’t see why Doom would need all of this power.

“No, me neither,” Tony agreed. “But I’m more concerned about the fact that I think he just discovered the arc reactor. Even if he doesn’t know what it is, if he manages to hook it up to all those generators…”

It could give him the equivalent power of a nuclear bomb, said Alin, grimly. I don’t want to have to stand by and wonder if you’re going to explode from another one.

“Me, neither,” said Tony, again, but they both knew there might not be a choice. Just as there really hadn’t been a choice when Tony had gotten the call from Fury that a nuclear bomb had been fired on Manhattan. “Alin, if it comes to it—”

No, Alin said, flatly. You won’t ask that of me – again – because it won’t be necessary. You and Rebo will not leave me or Phil alone in this world without you. You will both do everything in your power to stay safe until we can rescue you. You hear me?

“I hear you,” Rebo and Tony answered in unison.

Tony was distracted from anything further Alin might have said by another, bigger, jolt than ran through his armour. This one hurt, made him feel as though his entire body was suffering from pins and needles, and his armour made a worrying creaking sound. He really hoped that rescue would arrive soon, because otherwise he rather suspected that his suit wasn’t going to hold its structure for much longer.

Thinks he’s going to crack your armour open like a nut, does he? Rebo squawked. Tony could just imagine the frantic wing-flapping the hummingbird was doing. I’ll show him!

“No!” he yelped, even as the armour rocked again. He felt another tickle of electricity dance around the arc reactor and held his breath for a moment until it passed. “I can’t see what the hell he’s doing, but he could fry you, Rebo!”

He’d have to catch me first, the Daemon said, smugly.

Damn it, Tony thought to himself. He couldn’t hear anything, but the very fact that the electric attacks stopped proved that Rebo hadn’t listened to him. He strained, hoping to either pop himself out of the armour or hear something that might give him a hint as to what was going on.

Wheee! Rebo laughed – actually laughed. Tony was going to have words with Phil about his Daemon once he got home again. Why the hell had he not known that his partner’s soul was insane? He may have power but he’s not quick, the hummingbird chortled. And not built for close up work, either. There! Take that, and that! And… there go the generators. Tony, better brace yourself, he added.

Tony didn’t even manage to draw breath to ask ‘brace for what’ before his entire armour lit up even brighter than when Doom had first attacked. He had to close his eyes against the brightness and wished heartily that he’d thought to put a manual air conditioning in the suit as the metal began to heat up, causing Tony’s body to bead sweat.

It also caused the most wonderful sound Tony thought he’d ever heard – the armour powered up.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said JARVIS’ voice in his ear. “The armour appears to have been offline for some time. All systems rebooting. Power currently at 300 per cent and rising…”

“JARVIS, if you had a body, I’d kiss you right now!” Tony enthused. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you, buddy. Any chance you could get me a view as to what’s going on out there?”

“HUD is rebooting even as we speak, sir,” the AI said. “And now that we have a lock on your location, the Avengers are mobilising. Power at 450 per cent and rising.”

Wow, Tony mused, as the space in front of him flickered into a paler grey that he could just about distinguish from the blackness. Looked like this Doom was even more powerful than Thor.

The view abruptly flickered into being, leaving Tony staring upwards at the warehouse’s ceiling.

“It appears that this Doom is drawing power from the generators,” JARVIS informed him. “I would remain prone, sir; he’s almost drained them dry.”

“Why’s he even firing at me?” Tony wondered, then, “Wait! Rebo, are you hiding behind me?!”

What better place to draw electrical power to? the Daemon confirmed, still sounding smug. He had it, and you needed it. Better get ready, I think he’s almost out of canned juice…

To prove his point, the light show began dimming. The armour was still humming contentedly, but Tony could now hear Doom yelling in frustration over the fading crackle of electric.

“Power is at 625 per cent above base average and holding steady,” JARVIS informed him. “All systems booted and showing at max efficiency. Doom still appears to be able to throw power, but it is much less now that he has drained the generators. I believe it may be prudent for you to get up now, sir.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Tony agreed. “Out the way, Rebo. Phil would never let me hear the end of it if I end up squashing you!”

I would never let you hear the end of it, the Daemon sniffed, haughtily, but Tony caught the flash of him swooping past and over him, doing neat barrel rolls to avoid the threads of lightning that Doom was still shooting at him.

“Okay, JARVIS – let’s raise this joint!” Tony hollered, and jack-knifed himself upright even as he activated all thrusters. Doom grunted as the full force of the armour driving up from the ground ploughed into him, and they went crashing through the warehouse’s wall. He gripped hold of the armour, attempting to push his power through it again, but it didn’t really do much more than tickle now.

“Sorry, Doom!” said Tony, cheerfully, through his external speakers. “You’re not affecting me anymore. Guess you could say you lost that spark!”

“You think you can stop me?” Doom growled into his face. Or, well, faceplate. “You run on electricity; you think anything you have is going to stop me for long?”

“And yet, here you are,” said Tony as they crashed into the ground, scoring a long furrow behind them as they skidded through the force of it. “Stopped.” Doom abruptly began to glow, and then Tony was airborne as the other man used his power to help shove him off. “Or not!” Tony yelped, flailing.

With a burst of his repulsors, he caught himself at the top of the arc and hovered in mid-air instead of plunging to the ground as Doom had no doubt hoped for. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?” he called down. “You won’t get it, but just getting the idea out might help, you know?”

“I want power,” growled Doom, and shot another stream at Tony, who neatly avoided it. “I am owed power!” he continued. “I was made for it!”

“Uh-huh,” Tony hummed, doubtfully. As he’d expected, this enraged Doom, who immediately directed several bolts of lightning his way. Tony ducked, and hoped that he’d be able to avoid being fried for long enough that the small blip that JARVIS had highlighted on his HUD would be able to catch up and join the fight. “Nothing to do with the solar wind you got caught in?”

“That is precisely what made me,” Doom informed him, and oh goody, he was about to start his villain monologue. That should eat up a good chunk of time. “Everyone thought I was safe behind the shields, but by the time we got back to Earth I could feel it in me, changing me. Improving me.”

“Not from where I’m standing.” Tony squinted, peering closely at the zoomed in display on his HUD.  From the brief glimpses he’d gotten, he’d thought Doom was wearing a mask, a really good one, although he’d thought metal was a bit of an odd choice – though who was he to complain, considering his own armour – but perhaps… “Wait, when you said ‘changing you’…”

Doom gave him a wide grin and dramatically threw back the hood of his cloak. He still looked like a regular human – except for the fact that his skin was gleaming silver. Tony didn’t want to consider how far down those changes went. That was just creepy, even for him.

“I’m the next stage of evolution,” Doom proclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “The only stage of evolution. With power literally at my fingertips—” He held his hand up, and sparks jumped from finger to finger. “—then no-one will dare to disparage me ever again. I am unstoppable!”

And with absolute precision timing, a large, gleaming frisbee arched just in front of Doom, allowing an arrow to bounce off it and explode in the metal man’s face.

“Oh, look, the cavalry has arrived,” said Tony. “Did you stop for snacks along the way?”

“Well, if you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself captured in the first place,” Clint snarked in return, firing a barrage of arrows at Doom as he leapt from the quinjet. Tony graciously ignored that as he added his unibeam to the mix.

He’d sort of forgotten, though, that his armour was currently holding about six times its normal power level, and the beam that shot out was even more intense than it usually was, causing the air around it to shimmer. Clint yelped as he dove sideways away from it, and Tony absently wondered whether he’d singed the hawk’s tail feathers.

“You think this can stop me?” asked Doom, although he was beginning to look a bit… soft around the edges and had taken on a soft red glow.

“Hey, I’ve got a question,” Natasha’s voice called from higher up in the air. Tony glanced up to see her sitting in the pilot’s seat. She had the jet turned perpendicular to Doom, and the Hulk was standing in the open doorway, one hand gripping the door frame. Tony squinted up at him; there was something odd about Hulk’s expression… “You’re a smart guy, right? Perhaps you can tell me what happens to heated metal when it’s rapidly cooled.”

Huh? Tony tilted his head in confusion, just as his unibeam cut off. He scowled and opened his mouth to berate JARVIS – they were hurting Doom, damn it – when the quinjet abruptly dropped and Hulk… spat.

That was what had been wrong with Hulk’s expression, Tony realised as an absolute torrent of water spewed out of the Hulk and cascaded over Doom. Hulk’s cheeks had been puffed out.

Doom was immediately obscured by a large loud of steam. Any sound he might have made was lost under a loud shrieking whistle. And then, as the stream from Hulk petered out, the morning was only disturbed by the soft creaks of metal settling.

“Damn,” said Tony, approvingly. “Whose idea was that?”

“Dr Banner’s,” said a voice that Tony hadn’t expected to hear but was very welcome. He glanced up to see Phil looking through the jet’s windscreen at him. “He realised that with so much electricity around, Doom probably wouldn’t appreciate a goodly amount of water in his vicinity.”

“Yay for science bros!” Tony cheered, even as he began to drift lower towards the ground. “You gonna come out here, or am I coming in there?”


“Set it down,” Phil ordered Natasha, needlessly, as she was already lowering the jet to the ground, but he was impatient. He wanted to get his hands on Tony, to make certain that he was uninjured.

He reached the top of the ramp just as the jet reached the ground, and Rebo shot out of the remains of the warehouse towards him, circling him several times before finally landing on his shoulder and hopping until he was pressed against Phil’s neck, shivering and wiggling as though he was attempting to burrow under his skin.

“For God’s sake, Stark, can’t you leave him alone?” groused Clint.

“I haven’t even gone near him yet!” Tony protested. He’d stepped out of his armour whilst the quinjet was landing, so Phil could see the scowl he shot Clint quite clearly.

Clint propped his hands on his hips and scowled back at his teammate. “You know what I mean. That hummingbird of yours,” he said.

Phil shook his head as he finally sauntered down the ramp and towards Tony. He ran his gaze over the other man. He couldn’t see any injuries, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Tony had a nasty habit of hiding such things until he could lock himself away and tend to them in private. “Are you injured?” he asked, directly, halting right in front of Tony.

“Not even a scratch,” Tony promised. Then he grinned. “Just a bit of a buzz from the amount of juice Doom was sending through the armour. He’s better – or worse – than Thor was.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Phil. “Got any ideas on how to work through it?”

“Several,” said Phil, dryly. “Starting with this.” And he wrapped his palm around the back of Tony’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Tony made a delighted sound and pressed himself even closer, one arm going around Phil’s waist to anchor them together. Rebo gave a chirrup of disgust and fluttered off to find a different perch.

There was an explosion of noise going on behind them, but Phil wasn’t paying any attention to it. Instead, he broke the kiss so that he could rest his forehead against Tony’s. “Don’t get captured again,” he ordered, staring into his lover’s eyes.

Tony smiled, which Phil felt more than saw. “I’ll try my best,” he said. Phil drew back to mock-scowl at him, but figured that was the best he was going to get. Tony was a superhero; throwing himself headfirst into danger kind of came with the territory. “Oh,” Tony added, turning his head to look at Clint, “and by the way – the hummingbird is mine, but not for the reason you think.”

Phil raised his eyebrows as he realised what Tony planned to do. Alin was probably equally as frantic to see Tony again as Rebo had been him, but it didn’t seem the most sensible thing to bring a hippo here when they’d only have to figure out a way to get it back to the Tower again.

Or maybe, he thought as Tony began to both shrink and grow, his partner had finally had enough of all the disparaging comments aimed his way.

The Avengers all gaped as Tony drew Alin back inside himself and shifted into a hippo, who opened his mouth at Clint in what could charitably be called a smile, if the animal in question didn’t weigh several tonnes and was classed as one of the most dangerous.

And then Tony was shifting back, Alin drifting back out to solidify next to him. Tony rested a hand on the hippo’s head and gave Clint another grin. The archer’s gaze darted back and forth between Tony, Alin and Phil, before turning in the direction that Rebo had gone. The colour drained from his face.

“Don’t ever threaten my hummingbird again,” said Tony, pleasantly.

The only response he got was a strangled eeep!