“Calm down, Frodo,” Tony says immediately. “If I can create clean energy the size of a hockey puck,” and stick it in his chest, “I can figure out a way to destroy a magic wand and a glowy box.” It’s full of hubris, that sentence, but hubris is what Tony does best. And he so rarely is disappointed by the outcome. There’s that smirk again, bright and shining, and he lifts his head slightly to gaze up at Steve, waiting for him to say boo to any of that. “There’s going to be an attack. And that’s more important than anything. We need to put the scepter somewhere safe, somewhere only we know the location of. We take care of this attack and then… I guess we go to Mordor.”

Tony is itching to get going here. He’s always like this before he takes on a new project. His blood runs hot and is muscles feel like they’ve been completely wound up in his arms and legs. Someone just needs to pull the pin and let him whirlwind across the globe.

“Can you do that? You’re squeaky clean. Even if you have such a terribly vulgar vocabulary. They’ll never suspect you, Cap.”

{{Stark and Rogers versus Stark and Rogers is a go!}}