toblameforit | (no subject)

Sherry did, of course, do a background check.

"Andy Wright, age 24, graduated cum laude from Bethlem College in South Dakota with a BA in Creative Writing. No criminal record."

Tony was not impressed.

"Licensed bartender. Works in coffeeshops a great deal, as well. Published several poems in a few magazines around the country."

He shouldn't have been surprised, either, and after the initial shock he wasn't.

"Did you expect me not to? Her work isn't bad, though I think she relies on her allusions a little too heavily."

But now, if he's going to email her, he should probably get that out of the way first thing. He sprawls out in bed with his laptop and starts typing.

Subject: so hi
From: tonys (dcxvi)
To: awright (gmail)

Hey,

Sherry totally did do a background check. :( Sorry. It all checks out, though, so that's good I guess.

Anyway. If you seriously want to talk, I think I seriously need to. But like I said, I don't want to freak you out or anything. So... I dunno.

Coffee sometime?

-Tony

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Andy wins! :D

Andy is adorable.

"You're cute when you're all triumphant," he informs her.

"I try," cheerfully. "Do you want coffee or anything?"

"Hmm." He considers the state of his stomach. "Later," he decides.

"Fair enough."

She finishes packing her stuff away into her bag and leans back in her chair.

"So how've you been?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Holed up at home where nobody ever asks me that question."

". . . Shit."

There's a lot to unpack there.

"You want to talk about it?"

That was, after all, the point of this little klatch, but it seems appropriate to actually invite him to start.

It's a backwards way to get into it, but y'know, whatever.

"'cause I'm a really bad liar," he continues quietly, "and I'm always afraid I'm gonna answer with the truth, and people don't actually wanna hear that, y'know? They wanna hear I stayed up all night playing video games, not crying into Sherry's shoulder."

Andy nods and keeps her mouth shut. This is not the time for advice, or platitudes.

"So I mentioned my parents were killed, right?" He knows damn well he did. "Yeah, car accident. Except it turned out it wasn't an accident, somebody took the road out on purpose. And we've got—we had this family friend, Obie, he ended up my guardian afterward, turned out he was behind it 'cause he was after Dad's money."

Tony takes a breath.

"And it's funny, you'd think I'd hate him, and I kind of do, but I kind of still love him anyway? And he got murdered last week."

"--Oh. Oh."

Shit.

If she sips her coffee, will it hide the fact that she only just now figured out he's that Tony Stark?

"Jesus."

"...so yeah," he says wryly, "that's life in the fast lane for you."

"That . . . Jesus, Tony, I'm so sorry."

He looks down at his hands.

"Thanks."

"Did they catch whoever did it?"

He starts to laugh.

So . . . is that a no?

She'll wait to see if he's going to get hysterical or not.

"Nope. And they're not gonna. It was a fucking gruesome job, too, the way I hear it."

Speaking of complicated feelings, his voice is wavering between grief and deep satisfaction. Heavier on the latter.

". . . And you hear it from?"

"Sherry knows everything," he says, like it is the founding principle of his existence.

". . . Okay."

And how does Sherry know everything?

And is it wrong of her to think that it's weird how reliant Tony is on Sherry?

"—He didn't do it," Tony clarifies belatedly.

It has the advantage of being completely true. In a sense.

"He just, y'know, looks up coroner's reports for fun."