I saw this post and I just want to die lol.
Pepper looked at Tony, down at the briefcase in his hand, then slowly dragged her eyes back up to his. “…I have all the paperwork we need.”
“I know,” Tony told her, as if he was offended that she might ever think he might believe her incompetent.
“…Is that the armor?” she hissed, appalled. “Why would you ever need the armor for a board meeting? Oh my God. Tony.”
“It’s not the armor,” he hurried to assure her.
Pepper wanted to yell at him. Instead she just let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed his arm. “Come on! We’re late.”
“Um, I was about to walk into the conference room! You’re the one that started interrogating me about my briefcase!” Tony complained, but let himself be dragged.
Halfway through the meeting, when a man older than salt was droning on about financing a project, Pepper felt something cold and damp tap against the outside of her knee. She glanced down at it, then shot Tony a mortified glare and hissed, “Is that a juice box?!”
“Apple,” he affirmed quietly, tapping it against her knee again.
She glared at him a moment longer before she took the juice box and–God, he’d already taken the wrappers off the straws so they wouldn’t make crinkling noises–stabbed the straw through the foil hole.
Natasha stared at the briefcase sat beside Tony. She hadn’t had anything to eat for breakfast before the alarm klaxon had rung, and she was hungry.
Tony noticed her staring and grimaced, because honestly, debriefing was the worst. They could have at least ordered something in for the team. Sighing quietly, he glanced at Fury, then carefully kicked the briefcase over to her.
Natasha frowned, confused, because she knew it was the briefcase armor. Still, she opened the case, just a crack.
The briefcase practically spat a bag of french onion Sun Chips into her hands. They were packed in a Ziploc bag so as to not make much noise. She gaped. Tony had food even in this briefcase?
She glanced up when a piece of paper was slid over to her, Steve’s artistic scrawl asking, Are those chips?
Natasha scowled, clutching the chips in her lap possessively. She nearly jumped out of her seat when the briefcase spat out another bag of chips and then snapped closed.
She kept the french onion one and shoved the barbecue Sun Chips at Steve, then kicked the briefcase back to Tony.
“Tony!” Steve shouted when he saw the man tucked behind a piece of debris. “Get the suit on!”
“It’s coming!” Tony called back.
Steve turned to gape at him. “You have the briefcase right there!”
Tony stared at him, hand inside the briefcase. He slowly drew his hand out.
“Oh my God, are those pistachios!? What is even in there?!”
“None of your beeswax, Captain Nosy!” Tony snapped back, twisting the bag tighter and tighter, then drew back and threw it at the nearest AIM soldier. “Say a prayer, Steve!”
Steve sputtered. “For what?!” he asked, even as he did mentally say a prayer for… whatever. He gaped when the bag of nuts burst into flame, making the AIM soldier scream and flail before throwing himself to the ground.
“My pistachios,” Tony said sadly.
Steve was horrified. “IS THAT THING JUST FULL OF YOUR SNACKS?!”
Tony sneered at him even as he stood, armor wrapping around his body. “Of course it is, Steve.”
Steve yelled. No words. Just anger.