Tony Stark

“How would you know what my business is?” Stane may have been dealt with, but he still had many associates that were part of the plot to assassinate Howard and Maria Stark. Tony was going to hunt down each and every one of them, and no Jedi would get in his way. The only place this crime lord was going was to whatever hell they worshiped.

“Beskar’gam,” Tony corrected reflexively. How did he even know what it was? “You can help by staying out of my business.” He was going to say something sharper and ruder but he was thrown off kilter by the frank appraisal of his armor. He knew it was expensive to outsiders, but Tony’s buir was a metalsmith so he got it on the family discount so to speak. But the Jedi didn’t need to stare at it.

“I’m not denying that but three days? Really? And even if that happened I will be sitting here on my ass while the kids save the planet.” Probably.

“Hey now, let’s not tempt fate. Murphy’s a bitch. You should know that by now.”

“Good! That’s good! But if you ever need it, it’s there, so no worries, alright?” He bumped his shoulder against Clints’, “Though I might take up your offer of babysitting Morgan sometime, just so you know.” Tony smiled at Clint, only joking a little. Clint didn’t have things at his farm that would blow up if messed by a precocious child genius... hopefully.

“Your faith in me is astounding.”

“Granted the last few times I’ve tried to declare myself retired didn’t work out so well, but I’m sticking with it now, I swear!”

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it. I’m retired.”

“Only the fifth? Color me shocked. You know you set yourself up with it with your bird obsession.” Tony tilted his head in thought, “I probably have a few horses somewhere, doubt I have cows, my kids are giving my grey hairs grey hairs between Peter's heroics and Morgan’s getting to that age where she’s scheming to sneak into my workshop.” A pause, “You know if you needed it, I wouldn’t mind setting up a fund for your kids, right?”

“Doing something with my hands is my relaxation!” Tony flutters his hands exaggeratedly, “I do agree that I’d spontaneously combust if I sit still too long, though. Too many thoughts running around my genius brain.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, “But as much as I love talking about myself, tell me what’s going on in Hawkland. Chicks ready to leave the nest?”

“Point of fact, I don’t actually like eating gold. I have enough metals floating in my guts.” He taps pointedly on his chest. “And I said I was mostly dead, not all intact. So, no, I’d love to announce my triumphant survival, but Pepper seems to think I could use the quiet to recuperate. She thinks I can’t take it easy, can you honestly believe that? I totally can relax on my own!”

“Treating me? That’s not something I hear often.”  Tony shrugs, “Sure, why not? Not like I have things to do while everyone thinks I’ve died again.” He slips on his sunglasses. “At least I won’t be recognized since I am ‘dead’.”

“Kicking the bucket is definitely not on my schedule for the immediate future.” He dusted some imaginary lint from his jacket. “But I think I’ll leave the super heroing to the kids now. I think I threw my hip and a few other things.” 

“YOU ARE! This isn’t even the third time everyone thought I was dead why are you starting to believe it now?”