"You're full of it! I'm Tony Stark! No woman can control me—don't be ridiculous!"
Tony puffed up his chest, but the quiver in his voice betrayed his confidence.
Lucas smirked. "Sure, sure… whatever helps you sleep at night."
Before Tony could retort, Natasha leaned lazily against the doorframe, her tone dripping with teasing charm. "You two are really something. One of you's been with so many women you could publish a photo book, and the other's juggling three girlfriends at once. Honestly, both of you should just be neutered."
Her words were sugar-coated poison—her voice soft and sultry, but her eyes were full of open disgust, as though she were staring at two piles of trash.
"Hey now! Watch what you're saying!" Tony protested loudly. "That's defamation! Do you even know what slandering Tony Stark means? My legal team is the best in New York. They don't call me the 'Lawsuit King' for nothing!"
Lucas leapt up beside him, arms flailing dramatically. "Exactly! I demand justice! I'm calling Matt right now! I'll sue you, sue S.H.I.E.L.D., and sue Fury until he's forced to drink his coffee without a drop of tea left in the pot!"
Natasha chuckled, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. "Go ahead. And when you get that photo of the Director without his tea, send me a copy, won't you?"
With that, she sauntered out, where Skye and the girls were already waiting to go shopping.
In an instant, the spacious office fell silent—leaving only two heartbroken, indignant men… and one lazy pig snoring on the couch.
"Brother…" Tony sighed, slumping down. "We live such miserable lives."
"Yeah…" Lucas rummaged behind the bar. "Drink?"
Tony's eyes lit up. "Now you're talking."
---
By the time the girls returned from shopping that night, they walked in on an epic scene—Tony and Lucas, clearly hammered, were locked in a fierce battle on the TV screen.
They were playing Injustice. One as Superman. The other as Batman.
"Come on, Clark!" Lucas shouted, furiously mashing buttons. "Show me what the so-called son of Krypton can do against the Goddamn Batman!"
Tony, standing on the couch, countered with equal enthusiasm. "You dare challenge a Kryptonian, you broke Earthling? I'll melt your toys with my heat vision!"
Their controllers clattered, the TV blared, and the table was covered with empty bottles and leftover snacks.
Skye, Wanda, and Pepper stood frozen at the doorway, completely speechless.
If it weren't for them, this household would've fallen apart long ago. The two geniuses could barely function outside of drinking, fighting, or breaking something.
Deciding to ignore the two drunken idiots, the girls moved to the other side of the room, chatting quietly until almost midnight.
By then, Lucas and Tony had passed out—sprawled across the sofa like corpses, their virtual Superman and Batman still gazing lovingly at each other on the frozen game screen.
Skye and Wanda sighed and helped carry Lucas back to his room, while Pepper—experienced as ever—dragged Tony to bed. Natasha, hands in her pockets, watched the entire ordeal with an amused smirk. "Your men, your problem," she sang before disappearing into her own room.
It was well past midnight before the girls could finally rest.
---
The next morning, Lucas and Tony looked like zombies—bloodshot eyes, dull faces, nursing glasses of milk with shaky hands.
Meanwhile, Pepper, Skye, and Wanda were already dressed and heading for Stark Industries. With the strength of those two girls, ten Vankos wouldn't pose a threat—even if they were wearing armored suits.
Wanda, in particular, had made huge progress. Her control over the Chaos Energy had stabilized to the point where she could alter the shape of small objects.
The World Expo was set to open the next day, with the main exhibitions kicking off that very night—leaving Pepper utterly swamped with preparations.
Natasha had disappeared again, probably on another covert S.H.I.E.L.D. mission.
By late afternoon, Lucas and Tony had finally recovered from their hangovers.
"If I ever drink like that again, I'm a dog," Lucas groaned, rubbing his temple.
Tony chuckled knowingly. "I think I've said that a few times myself."
They both turned their attention to the TV, where the news was broadcasting the Expo's opening preparations.
"Are you sure you don't need to be there tomorrow?" Lucas asked.
"Nope," Tony said nonchalantly. "Pepper's the CEO now. I'm just the pretty face. I don't need to show up."
Lucas shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I have a feeling you won't be able to stay away when things get interesting."
That evening, Natasha returned—this time dressed for business. She mentioned she'd be attending the Expo alongside Pepper, clearly under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s directive.
---
The next morning, Pepper and the girls left early for the opening ceremony. Lucas and Tony watched the broadcast from the apartment—bored out of their minds as one dull speech followed another.
"Does every opening ceremony on Earth look this identical?" Lucas muttered. "Even in my past life, they were just as painful."
Tony yawned. "Yep. Bureaucracy is universal."
Night fell. The Expo officially began—and the hottest attraction of all was Hammer Industries' exhibition hall. The world waited eagerly to see the much-hyped Iron Drones.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the CEO of Hammer Industries—Mr. Justin Hammer!"
The crowd applauded as Hammer strutted onto the stage in a flashy designer suit, moving with a strange, jerky rhythm that made Lucas cringe.
"Uh… is it just me, or does he look like he's missing part of his brainstem?" Lucas muttered. "Is partial paralysis a requirement for being a CEO now?"
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's trying to copy my stage entrance. And failing miserably."
In the audience, Pepper and the others sat front and center, watching the awkward dance unfold.
Natasha grimaced. "Does this guy have a neurological disorder?" she whispered, tapping her temple.
Onstage, Hammer finished his performance and began presenting his new suits—explaining that they were fully remote-controlled and divided into multiple specialized divisions: land, sea, and air, with additional variants for the Navy and Air Force Marines.
"And now," Hammer declared proudly, "please welcome our special guest—Colonel James Rhodes!"
The stage floor opened, and a man in a gleaming silver suit of armor rose into view—Colonel Rhodey, wearing the Mark II War Machine prototype.
Tony leaned back and sighed. "Yeah… I gave him that one. Mostly to shut the military and Congress up."
Lucas chuckled. "Smart move. Though I have a feeling that gift's about to bite you back."
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