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“Tony.” Pepper was not amused. She was clearly the opposite of amused. Tension was vibrating from every fiber of her bring. “Natasha. What is going on?”

When in doubt, tell the truth. It had gotten Tony through any number of situations, including “I am Iron Man.” He lifted his chin, aimed his best smile at his… whatever noun one could attach to Pepper these days, aside from “boss.”

“Pepper, I’m a fairy.”

Natasha snickered. She really should have known better. Pepper didn’t even bat an eyelash—of course she didn’t.

“First, I don’t think you can say that any more. Second, if this is about that thing with Bruce, I don’t think that’s a concern. Third, what does that have to do with this ‘Council?’ Don’t change the subject, Tony. This is a very angry-looking letter.” She shook the letter at him.

“Well, you’re, ah, a very angry-looking woman. It doesn’t always do to take things at face value, for gods’ sakes, Romanoff, stop laughing! You’re not helping!”

Romanoff smirked. “Go on, Tony. Tell her how you’re a fairy. While she’s shaking a letter from the Council. I’m sure that’s going to make everything better.”

Tactical mistake. Natasha Romanoff had made a tactical mistake. Tony took a step back as Pepper whirled on the Widow.

“Natasha! If you know what is going on, so help me God, if you have helped Tony in this nonsense…”

“Gods.” Natasha stood up a little straighter. “Tony said ‘fairy.’ The proper word is ‘gods.’“

“I don’t care if you’re sleeping with him. He sleeps with everyone, eventually.” The change in her voice, the slow drop in tone, told Tony that Pepper did really care, still.

“Technically, I rarely sleep. With anyone.” He held up a hand. “No, it’s not a technicality. And I am not entirely suicidal, and thus no, I have never gotten in bed with Agent Romanoff. That way lies madness. Further madness,” he amended.

But clarifying Romanoff’s oh-so-helpful clarification had not calmed Pepper down, although it had at least re-targeted her.

“Tony. Nat. If you do not tell me what’s going on in one minute, I…”

Tony had not been pushing Pepper past her limits for this long without learning to recognize said limits. He stepped forward, took her arms, and gave her his best apologetic face. “Pepper, I’m sorry, I really am. The truth is — the truth is, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, and I really don’t know how to prove it to you. And it’s not often I admit to not knowing something, so you can tell how serious I am. Romanoff, some backup here?”

“Perhaps this would help.” The Black Widow stepped forward — stalked, really, oh, fuck, she was on target and that target was Tony. He was going to find out really fast if he could take her in a fight or—

“Tony?” Pepper’s voice had shifted once again. This was her small-and-worried voice. “Tony? I think you should look at Nat. I…”

Tony turned. Carefully, very carefully, not letting go of Pepper and not making any sudden movements.

“Oh. Oh, is that all?” Tony found himself grinning. “She has horns. Of course she has horns, of course, nothing else would make sense.”

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The tension was high in the room, and one of the most deadly people in the world was smiling at Tony. Things were about to get really, really bad.

Tony leaned back against his suit and grinned, his billionaire playboy philanthropist smile, all razzle and a little bit of dazzle. “Oh, you know me.” He flipped his hand sideways, taking in the whole tower and everything else. “I like to fuck everyone.”

He leaned forward before she could attack, which was a miracle in and of itself. She was holding back. Why was she holding back?

Hopefully, the same reason he was.

“And,” he added, in an entirely different voice, one he normally reserved for Pepper and other deadly serious situations, “I always keep my word. Including to my crew, Agent Romanoff. I seem to recall saying that the Avengers are the most important thing in my life — aside from Pepper, because you know she wouldn’t stand for being second to saving the world or anything.” He raised his eyebrows at her. Her move.

She rolled back on her heels, her hands settling at her sides. “You’re saying you’d be in a crew with a Shenera Osera.”

“No.” Tony shook his head, caught her eye, and smirked. “That would be crazy if, say, I was a Shenera Endra.” He flipped his hand negligently. “I’m an Avenger. You’re an Avenger. That makes us crew. The rest is just details.”

Deliberately, Tony threw off the most casual salute he had ever managed — it barely made it within a mile of his face — and turned back to the suit. “Could you pass me the welder?”

She was up against him before he’d finished the sentence. “You don’t like having things handed to you.” Her breath was warm on the back of his neck. In terms of stupid ways to die — well, he’d come up with worse.

“Crew, remember? Besides, Dum-E’s scared of you. You’re very intimidating.”

Natasha handed Tony the spot welder. Her hand lingered there, and her eyes lingered on his.

There were reasons he didn’t like being handed things. Tony held the eye contact. This was important.

“Tony? Tony, I know you’re in there. You’ve been avoiding your mail all week.”

Pepper had the world’s worst timing, or perhaps the world’s best. The door slid open and Pepper came around the corner, something waving in her hand.

Before Tony had had a chance to even think about moving, Romanoff was five feet away, leaning against Dum-E like he wasn’t terrified of her and studying her nails. “What did Tony do this time?”

Pepper was, of course, brilliant. She studied the two of them for a heartbeat, decided it was nothing she had to worry about, and looked directly at Tony, still shaking the letter. Proper paper, folded, he noted, with a wax seal. “Do you know what this is?”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Heavy rag paper, looks like, someone still using the outdated system of the US Postal Service – unless they sent it by Pony Express? The Post Office machines can’t handle wax seals. They didn’t consult Stark Industries on those. That was a Hammer design.”

Pepper didn’t listen. She had quite a bit of skill not listening to Tony. “This,” she hissed, her voice soft, “Is a letter from ‘the Council,’ demanding you explain your actions. Tony, who — or what — is the Council?”

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“They think you’re human, you know.” Tony wasn’t looking at Romanoff; he had his head buried in his new favorite suit and one arm in what would be, if the suit were a person, the sort of compromising position that the tabloids would love to catch him in.

He didn’t have to be looking at her, of course; JARVIS was looking at her and relaying the image. Tony didn’t know if Romanoff knew that, but she did raise one elegant eyebrow at Tony’s ass. “Think?”

“You and Clint both. Rogers, the big guy, they know what they are. Thor — Thor is his own jumbo-sized issue, but I think you and I both know what he is. But you and Clint, the rest of the team thinks you’re human.”

“And you think you know differently.” She’d shifted her posture. Tony might not have noticed, but JARVIS did. She had three — no, four — weapons on her body, not counting the exquisite weapon that was her body.

Of course, she was standing in Tony’s workroom, which meant she was surrounded by his weapon. It could go either way.

Tony didn’t extricate himself from the suit. “Look. I could be wrong, in which case you can say I’m crazy, which will only be the third or fourth time today.”

“Fifth.” Her posture hadn’t relaxed.

“Fifth, fine.” He found the bolt he was trying to replace, and, for a moment, was silent, fiddling deep in his spare suit’s nether region. “Or I’m right — and I’m never wrong — in which case the real question is, do you prefer the Gods or the Law?”

Silence reigned. Romanoff, Jarvis reported, was moving, but they were micro-movements. She was considering her answer.

That wasn’t a good sign. Toss out the option that she was human — she wasn’t. Toss out the option that she was unaligned, not part of either sect of Ellehemaei — fae, fairies, elves — living on the planet. That meant she was planning on killing him, deciding if he was full of bullshit, or she was some entirely different sort of madness, which could pose some problems.

She rolled back on her heels. “You’re not going to ask if I prefer to fuck animals or break my word?” She was using the eyebrow again. Either it was reflexive, or she knew he was watching.

“Well.” She definitely knew what he was talking about. Monkey-fuckers and Oathbreakers, that’s what the two groups called each other.

Tony pulled himself out of the suit and wiped his hands down. He took his time at it, getting the grease out from his cuticles. Then, and only then, he graced Agent Romanoff with his most charming smile. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“Unless there is.” She was smiling. Tony was beginning to get worried. “So, tell me, Mr. Stark, do you prefer to fuck animals or to break your word?”

Crossover of Avengers and Fae Apoc and thus turning both of them into a bit of an AU, including there being super-science in fae apoc now.

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