feng_shui_house: a man walks into a bar (ficathon into a bar)
feng_shui_house ([personal profile] feng_shui_house) wrote in [community profile] intoabar2016-04-25 10:39 pm

Shiftless Tony Stark

Title: Shiftless Tony Stark
Author: Feng_Shui_House (also AnonEhouse on AO3)
Prompt: Tony Stark goes into a bar and meets... Navarre (Ladyhawke)!
Fandoms: MCU IronMan movies, Ladyhawke (1985 movie)
Word count: 1,754
Rating/Contents: Gen (no warnings needed)

Takes place after Marvel's Civil War, but since I've only seen the first two trailers, it really doesn't spoiler you (there's a brief mention of a character in the trailer who's making their first appearance in the Marvel Verse, that's about it.)



Tony was accustomed to everyone turning to stare at him when he entered a bar. The hostility was a little extreme for a first time visit, however. He hadn't broken anything or insulted anyone yet. "This is the Shifter Bar Between the Worlds, right? I didn't take a wrong turn at the Bifrost?" he asked.

The bartender growled and sprouted thick black fur as he grew several feet taller. His eyes glittered, and his snout was full of white teeth. He wrapped one heavily clawed paw around a baseball bat and hefted it with intent.

"Oh. A beartender. Fantastic. Definitely the right place." Tony plopped his suitcase on the bar. "Thor said Loki used to come here all the time. I'm looking for a friend, part time giant green rage monster."

"We don't turn in our own kind to humans," a tall blond man with piercing light blue eyes said. Growled. There was a lot of growling going on and a lot of people becoming other kinds of people. Fur. Scales. Feathers. A game of Skins versus Shirts would be very confusing.

"Hey, hey, I'm not asking for his address! Just, you know, when he comes in, tell him that Tony misses him." Tony frowned. "I wanted to tell him he was right about what a chemical mixture our team was. We broke up. It was. It was bad. I'm trying to put together a new team and I hoped he'd come back with me, give it another try."

The beartender growled again. "Still human. You never change shape, you don't belong."

"I used to be part cyborg." Tony opened his shirt to show the scars remaining from the surgery to remove the arc reactor. Then he pointed to an armored polar bear sitting in the corner by the air conditioner. "And I still have my armor."

The armored bear stood up. "You make your armor yourself?"

"Absolutely." Tony patted the suitcase. It opened like a red and gold flower, petals separating and reshaping as they flew to surround Tony.

"Still human," the black beartender snarled.

"ARMORED," the polar bear snarled back.

The blond guy grabbed Tony by the gauntlet and pulled him out of the way just as the black beartender leaped over the bar and went for the polar bear. "Bears," he said dismissively as most of the bar's inhabitants joined in the battle, except for a pair of vaguely leopard like people who continued playing chess at a corner table. The uproar was incredible.

"Uh huh," Tony said. He flipped up the faceplate of the helmet and raised his voice. "So, what's good for a human to drink around here?"

The blond casually leaped over the counter. "There's hard cider. It might even put hair on your chest, not sure what realm it's from."

Tony fired his boot jets for a few seconds and followed the blond over to the other side of the bar. "Worth a shot. You know, I gave up sex, drugs and booze once. Worst fifteen minutes of my life."

The blond stared at him.

"That was a joke," Tony said.

"I know." The blond handed him a bottle. "It just wasn't a very good one."

"Everyone's a critic." Tony took off his helmet, pulled the cork out of the bottle and took a deep swallow. Then he popped open one of Iron Man's hidden compartments and pulled out a gold coin. "This pay for it, you think?"

The old-fashioned cast-iron register sitting on the counter extruded a long black tongue. It licked the coin, then wrapped around it and retracted. A moment later there was a click and a cha-CHING. Tony shrugged and took another pull of the cider. "Anyway, I'm Tony Stark. Iron Man. They call me that." Tony clacked his fingers against his chest plate and offered the bottle. "For obvious reasons."

"You must have a very strong horse," the man said. He took the bottle and drank deeply before handing it back. "Captain Etienne of Navarre."

"You don't mind if I don't call you Captain, do you? It's a sore point at the moment." Tony drank more cider.

"Navarre is good." He took the bottle back. "This is weak."

Tony nodded. He took out another gold coin and waved it in the air. "Could we have something stronger, here?" The cash register licked the coin, but this time Tony held it firmly. "Uh huh. Booze first, then money."

The cash register tongue pulled back and then returned, bringing a bottle half covered in a straw basket. Tony gave it the stink eye. "This, cheap restaurant vino?"

Navarre reached past him to grab the bottle. "Grappa, grape wine brandy. It's very strong." He looked at the label. "This is a good one, tastes like cognac, not all seeds and stems."

"You're the expert." Tony let the register have the coin. "Are we getting drunk together?" A gray, banded ball flew past and smashed the mirror above the bar. It unrolled, and reached out a hand to grab the cider and gulp rapidly, emptying the bottle.

"Thanks," the were-armadillo said, waving the bottle in one hand, before it climbed back over the bar and rejoined the fight.

"I mean," Tony said, after a moment to gaze in the direction the were-armadillo took, "you look like a fighter. You've got a sword and all. Would you rather be duking it out with the guys?"

Navarre shook his head. "I'm married now. Isabeau doesn't like it when I show up with bruises." He opened the grappa and gulped down a healthy, or unhealthy depending on your point of view, amount, before shoving it in Tony's direction.

"Ah." Tony nodded. "I used to have the same problem with Pepper." Tony took a swig of grappa. "Wow, yeah, this is booze."

"Pepper gave you bruises?"

"No, that was her name. I called her that." Tony drank more grappa. "It's funny, I don't even know why I called her that."

"Was she black and hard, like a peppercorn?" Navarre peeled Tony's fingers off the grappa, took the bottle, and drank.

Tony giggled. "No! I think I'm just bad at names. I called my kids Dummy and You."

"Those are terrible names," Navarre agreed. "Isabeau is thinking of names, now and I don't like any of them. We argued." He looked sad. "And so I came here to drink, before I go home and agree that Bat is a good name."

"Bat? Oh, you know, I think that's... wait, is this like a family name? Something traditional? Or, or, is there a rich old Uncle Bat who might like to shower a baby Bat with all his worldly possessions?" Tony grabbed the grappa and drank.

Navarre looked at Tony as if he was crazy. "No. Bat is Goliath's first son. He's little and black, and that was the only thing Isabeau could think of that was little and black."

"Oh." Tony nodded seriously. "Little and black. Ok. Um... wow, there's a bunch of offensive names out there. Hey, Jarvis do you know any nice little black names... oh, shit. No more Jarvis." Tony sniffled. "Jarvis is gone. He's Vision now. And I think I kinda maybe named him, too, but I don't know. I'm a little bit drunk." Tony leaned against Navarre's shoulder. Navarre pushed him upright again.

"Vision isn't a bad name," he said encouragingly. "Maybe you can give me a better name, one that Isabeau might like."

"Ok, ok, we'll give it a go." Tony put the helmet back on, but tipped the faceplate open. "Friday, any suggestions?"

"It's Monday," Navarre said.

"No, Friday, she does everything for me. I get all my work done by Friday." Tony grinned. Then he sighed. "That was another joke."

"You really aren't very good at jokes." Navarre patted Tony on the shoulder.

"Fine." Tony listened. "Ok, Raven or Merle, that's a kind of blackbird."

Navarre shook his head. "No bird names." He thought a moment. "Or wolf names. Or names to do with night or the sky."

"You're making this very difficult," Tony protested. "Hey, how about T'challa?"

"T'challa? What kind of a name is that?"

"It belongs to a friend of mine, he's a king, and a really great guy. He wears a lot of black... like you do, really."

"A king." Navarre looked thoughtful. "Yes, that would be a good name for a strong horse to carry."

"A HORSE? I thought we were talking about a baby person, well, were-person. Wait, is he a horse all the time?"

"Yes. Goliath is my horse, and his son is also a horse."

Tony thought it over. "Yeah, ok, T'challa is kinda a stud, so that works." Tony had more grappa.

Navarre took the bottle back and drank. "To T'challa!" Then he handed it back to Tony.

"To T'challa!"

Tony stood up and dropped the bottle. Iron Man listed to the side. Navarre pushed him upright again. Tony took out a handful of gold coins and put them on the bar. "HEY, everybody drink to T'challa! I'm paying!"

The fight swirled to a stop. The beartender was lying on the floor, snoring heavily, his half human paws twitching. He had a lot of company, but everyone who could move walked, or crawled, over to the bar. The chess playing leopards joined them. The cash register brought out a lot of bottles.

Tony went over to the armored bear and patted him on the shoulder, as high as he could reach. "Awesome armor, guy."

The bear grinned at him.

"Ok," Tony said, swaying gently in a non-existent breeze. "So. If Bruce shows up. Nice guy, curly hair, real quiet. Or, you know, mad guy, big and green and smash. Either one of them show up, tell him, them, Tony Stark says 'Come back, Shane!' The place hasn't been the same without him."

Tony turned to go, but then he paused and looked back at Navarre. "Hey, how come the beartender didn't yell at you for being human?"

Navarre shrugged. "Because I used to be a wolf at night, before the curse was broken."

"But you're human now."

Navarre opened his mouth wide, revealing rather longer than normal teeth. His eyes glowed yellow. "Mostly."

Tony blinked. "Everybody's got better party tricks than me." He shrugged. "Friday, I think you're designated driver tonight." He walked outside, and took off. "First Bifrost on the right and second star til morning."

"Boss," Friday said, "that's not the way the quote goes."

"Close enough. Take us home, Friday."

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