The Case of the Man in Iron

Ch.1: Bringing the Party to You

Tony grunts as he takes a hit to the shoulder, the shot stopping him midflight and pushing him sideways through the air. He barely has time to correct the suit's propulsion when another blast flies passed him, just missing hitting him square in the face plate.

Tony's repulsor beam catches the WhatthefuckdidThorcallit? in the chest and the creature lets out a gurgled scream as it falls from the light pole it'd been perched on as it took pot shots at him. Tony scans the immediate area for any more of the things, Tarfins, he thinks, then jets towards the river where Natasha and Clint had last radioed in. He reaches their location at the edge of the River Thames, just in time for his metal fist to knock a Tarfin in the back of the head as it leaps for Natasha's back.

"Anyone else getting tired of Loki's little party?" he asks as he helps Natasha dispatch of two more of the gray scaled creatures.

"You have a weird definition of what constitutes a party, Stark," Natasha replies when the area is clear of Tarfins for the moment.

Tony doesn't flinch as Clint lands next to them with a muffled thud. "At least these party favors aren't part of an endless space-portal supply," he says, smirking. He'd been perched on top of a double decker bus, picking off Tarfins as they scattered through the streets of central London. "They're not as organized either."

Tony nods as he flips his face plate up. "Agreed. This isn't Loki's MO, something's up," he says as he taps into the Avengers comm link. "What's the location on Reindeer Games? Anyone seen him since the bridge?"

"Negative," Steve replies instantly. "Banner and I are evacuating civilians from the bridge, now. We've got a few straggling Tarfins but no Loki."

"How's Bruce?" Tony asks with a distracted scowl. "Any signs of the Big Guy making an appearance?"

"I'm fine," Bruce answers calmly, and Tony can hear the chastisement in his voice. "Cap's picking them off before they get anywhere near me…The evacuation's keeping me focused."

"Any news on Thor?" Steve asks through the comm and everyone replies in the negative.

Tony shakes his head, wondering out loud what the hell was going on. "There's something not right here, guys. Since when does Loki drop a bag of crazy on us and not stay for the festivities?"

As usual, Bruce is the first to pick up on his train of thought. "And the way the Tarfins just scattered about the city…like they had no real—"

"—purpose," Tony cuts in and suddenly it clicks. "This whole damn thing was a distraction," he growls, pissed because he should have seen it. Should have known, because Loki's a full tilt diva and if Tony Stark knows anything, it's the inner workings of a diva. Shit.

"Seems like they need you more than I do, Cap," Tony hears Bruce say over the comm link. "I can see to the rest of the evacuation myself, you guys find Loki." There's a slight pause before Bruce adds, "Give me a call if you need the other guy."

It takes Jarvis two seconds to pull up their coordinates, five seconds for Tony to relay the information, and ten minutes for Steve to reach their location.

"Welcome to the party, Cap," Clint says from his reacquired perch atop the double decker, eyes and ears tuned in for any unexpected guests.

Natasha glares at the back of Clint's head as she asks Steve what there next move is. "We have no idea what Loki's after, where he could possibly be, or if he's even still in the country. He could be anywhere."

"Oh, he's here," Tony says. "Loki may be a crazy bastard, but he's focused, never does anything without purpose. There's a reason he chose London for the backdrop of this little freak show."

"I'm inclined to agree," Steve says, making Tony smirk. "Whatever Loki has planned, it has something to do with this area. Stark, can you ask Jarvis to do a search on any major events going on in the city today?"

"Already on it," Tony replies instantly. "And kudos, by the way, on finally arriving to the twenty-first century. Those computer classes must be—Goddamnit, I know where he is."

"Share with the rest of the class, Mr. Stark," Natasha says. "What's going on?"

Tony sighs, loud enough to be heard over the comm and says, "Parliament's in session."

Tony's the first to arrive, flying ahead of the others who have commandeered a civilian car. He cuts the propulsion jets in his boots and lands with a heavy, metal thud on the cobblestone in front of the Palace of Westminster, home to the two houses of the English Parliament. The chaos that surrounds him isn't surprising, but it makes Tony curse anyway.

"Get a move on it, guys," he says into the comm link. "Loki's already started playing."

Men and women pour out of the building in a thick, jostling current of screaming panic and Tony has to take flight again to keep from being over-run by the frantic crowd. Fuck, Tony thinks as he scans the ground below him. There's no way they'd be able to find Loki in this mess, not if he's wearing any concealments. And if he's still inside? Westminster Palace is massive and they don't have the numbers to secure every exit before Loki has the chance to escape. He's about to suggest they call Bruce in to help with the search when something flashes in his left peripheral.

Tony turns in the air and looks up, and then does a double take, because Loki is scaling Big fucking Ben like a goddamn monkey and Tony doesn't have time to think anymore as he tells Jarvis to push thrusters to one hundred percent. He's got just enough time to let the others know the situation before he reaches the clock face where Loki stands on the workers' ledge, waiting for him.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Iron Man," Loki says with a smirk. "What took you so long?"

Tony steps cautiously onto the ledge, left gauntlet raised and the palm of his glove glowing hotly, ready to let loose a repulsor blast at the first sign of attack. "What's the matter, Loki," Tony says, "Us Americans not good enough for you anymore?"

Loki smiles as he takes a step backwards along the ledge. "I can't give you lot all of my attention, now can I? Besides," he says, fingering the crystal head of the staff he holds, "Parliament's vaults hold such interest—"

Tony cuts him off with a blast that hits Loki in the shoulder, almost knocking him off the ledge. Tony expects a retaliatory attack but what he's not expecting is how fast it happens—Loki hasn't even regained his balance from being hit—or the overwhelming smell of burnt marshmallows as whateverthefuck it is that Loki fires from his nifty new toy hits Tony directly in the center of the suit's arc reactor.

There's a series of snap, crackle, and pops as the burnt marshmallow smell intensifies, and through the flickering screen of his face plate Tony sees Loki's eyes stare at him wide eyed, and Tony thinks that whatever Loki had expected to happen, this certainly isn't it. Tony can hear the others through the comm link, knows they're asking him what the situation is even though most of it isn't getting through over the static charged airwaves. Even Jarvis's voice is too garbled to understand, and the data on his screens are fluctuating too much to make any damn sense.

Loki's still staring at him but there's a look in his eyes now, then the briefest flicker to the right, and Tony knows Loki is calculating the risks of jumping off the ledge just to get away from him. Every inch of Tony's skin erupts in goosebumps as he realizes that Lokiis looking at him with fear in his eyes.

Tony shouts at Loki, but the, now visibly panicking, god doesn't respond to his words. Tony realizes his helmet's comm system must be down so he flips the face plate up. Loki's eyes are instantly fixed to his face and Tony is shouting again, "What the hell did you do?"

At the sound of Tony's voice, Loki's eyes jerk down to stare at the staff in his hand. "I…I don't know," he says, eyes reaching Tony's once more. "I don't know."

Tony's heart is pounding behind the arc reactor in his chest, and the snap, crackle, and pops are getting louder and faster, making the suit vibrate. The electricity in the air is spitting at his face, and the burnt marshmallow smell tastes acrid in his throat. Tony takes a step forward and the air visibly cracks and he knows that's not fucking good. He watches, morbidly fascinated as the crack starts to splinter away from itself, forming a delicate web of iridescent lines all around him.

Loki's face is slightly distorted, like looking at an oil painting that's been allowed to crack over time. For all the distortion though, Tony can still make out the moment where it all clicks somehow in Loki's head, and he's looking from Tony to the staff and back, a smile beginning to form on his cracked lips that Tony so does not like, and so Tony's reverting every ounce of energy left in the suit to thrusters and Loki's smile is disappearing quickly as Tony closes the gap between them. The instant Tony's arms wrap themselves around Loki's shoulders, the air around them shatters and the last thing Tony sees before everything goes black is the sky falling beneath him.

Tony wakes to the loud buzz of a large group of people murmuring quietly amongst themselves. He opens his eyes and lifts a hand to block his face from the sun beating down on him and Tony realizes he's missing a gauntlet. And his helmet.

Cursing, Tony pushes himself into a sitting position. He's not missing any more parts, but the suit is still pretty banged up with scorch marks and long scrapes running down all the front of him he can see. Tony taps the suit's arc reactor, not surprised when there's not even a flicker.

"Fuck," he says as he tries to shake the ringing out of his ears. He uses his hands to push himself to his knees, and yeah there's definitely some bruised ribs there, and gets shakily to his feet. He looks around him, wondering where the hell he's landed and where the fuck was Loki, and then for the first time really notices all the people standing around him.

"Um, hi," he says and wonders briefly, hopefully, if Lok's little staff trick has dumped him in the middle of some Renaissance fair. Except, okay, not Renaissance, but maybe late Victorian, and isn't that just so much better?

"What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Tony wobbles on his feet as the crowd parts to let a group of, what appear to be, police officers through, led by a shorter man in a bowler hat, and then Tony's hands are up beside his head because the guy in the bowler has his gun drawn and is looking at Tony like he's just waiting for an excuse.

"Uh, please don't shoot me?" Tony says, and watches the bowler guy's head tilt in confusion, just for a moment, before he's striding up to Tony and the confusion turns into curiosity as bowler guy inspects the suit.

"You've really outdone yourself this time, haven't you Holmes?" he asks, and Tony barely has his mouth open before the butt of bowler guy's gun meets the back of Tony's head, and he slips into unconsciousness for the second time that day.

AN:

1) For any Brits reading, please don't be offended if I totally screwed up writing central London. I did the best I could.

2) This will eventually go up in rating and it will be M/M so if that bothers you, you've been warned. Also, I'm using the Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes, so if eventual RDJ/RDJ imagery makes you squick, don't read any further.

3) Thanks for reading and please, let me know if there's anything I can do mechanically wise to make this story more enjoyable.