A/N: Sorry about the wait! I really like this one since I got to deviate away from the Avengers script. Phil and Tony are my babies, and I love their word play. I don't know if I'll be covering much more, or if I'll just do a quick segue into Phil's...well, you know. As always, a big thanks to my beta BigTimeHiddlestoner, and thank you to everyone who subscribes, follows, and reviews!

Getting out of the armor after a session with Thor's hammer had been interesting, to say the least. Without a disassembly unit, he was left with a rather unhelpful JARVIS and emergency catches that were difficult to find when one couldn't bend or twist.

The whirring of servos let him know that someone had touched the armor and disengaged the emergency locks, which meant that one of the three people with that knowledge was behind him. Pepper was in DC, and Rhodey was wherever the fuck he went, leaving Phil. Goddamn.

Stepping out of the armor was a relief, even if he had his husband to thank. The arc reactor still buzzed with the remnants of Thor's power surge, though his body ached with the bruises of getting batted around like a god's personal pinball.

"I'm surprised you don't have other places to be," Tony muttered as he looked for the equipment to haul the armor onto the workbench SHIELD had thoughtfully provided. Phil hadn't moved, emanating calm and good vibes, or whatever the hell they were called. It was starting to piss Tony off.

Phil thought he could just step in and out of Tony's life, chase after Captain America, and ignore their marriage. Ironically enough, Tony had been the one trying to be good, to make it work. He loved Phil more than he would probably ever say out loud, but wasn't sure if that would be enough in the presence of Captain America in the flesh. He didn't jump when the hand touched his shoulder, but it was a near thing.

"Tony. Look at me," Phil murmured. It was a clear order, though Tony was too tired to consider ignoring it. The hand on his shoulder was warm, the pressure of a thumb pressing in just right, forcing Tony to bite back a moan.

Glancing back, Tony noted the tense line of his shoulders, and the tightness around his mouth. It was the only reason he turned around to face him, let Phil drag him closer by the lapels of his jacket.

"Won't this burn Fury's lone retina?" Tony muttered, unable to resist as Phil reeled him in.

"This room is on loop," Phil said matter-of-factly, maneuvering Tony against the nearest wall.

"Help! I think I need an adult!" Tony yelled, squirming a bit. "Or someone who has actually seen me in the past few months!"

He knew he'd hit paydirt by the downward slope of Phil's mouth. It was minor, and hard to spot, but the signs were there. Phil did feel guilty, which was mollifying, at least. The hands on his lapels moved to his hips, keeping him pinned to the wall while Phil's eyes met Tony's. Feeling as if he were under a microscope, Tony put his hands on Phil's, ready to throw them off if he even so much as heard a bar of 'Star Spangled Man'.

"I know I've been away recently-" Phil began, his gaze steady.

"I know this answer!" Tony volunteered, knowing his grin had a few too many teeth.

"Matters have gotten out of hand, and a lot of things have come to light. I never intended to be away from home for so long."

"Yeah. Well, you were. Can we just go and save the day now? No wishy washy shit."

"I think we need to talk."

Tony looked away, his jaw set. Talking never meant anything good, and he'd avoid it at all costs if he could. At the same time, Phil's hands were warm on his hips; when did his thumbs start circling while applying the perfect amount of pressure?

"I think I wanted to talk, but you couldn't make time."

"You were sexting; that's not talking."

"It was an invitation to better things," Tony argued. "You could have replied with actual words, y'know."

Phil huffed out a breath, his shoulders losing some of their tension. Torn between wanting to either hug or shove his husband, Tony forced himself to stand still, hands twitching at his sides.

"Still. You've been acting off for months, Tony. I know for a fact you're not dying, but this can't go on any longer."

Tony could feel the guillotine, the noose tightening around his neck. This scene had played out in his head over a thousand ways since they got married: I can't take it anymore. I don't want you anymore. This isn't working out.

Over and over, the words replayed themselves in his head, though Phil hadn't actually said any of it. Dread curled in his stomach, nausea creeping upward, his chest aching under the weight of the arc reactor. They'd made it four years, been together for nearly seven. That was considered a good run, right?

"Tell me what's going on," Phil said, the demand clear even if his voice was gentle and the hands on his hips steadying. Phil was gifted that way, conveying intent without having to put much into words. Tony wanted to pull away, to avoid the bitterness welling up inside, to keep from spewing out the vitriol that had been building momentum since Captain America had been hauled out of the ice.

Phil's hands kept him in place, warm through the layers of his suit.

"Not trying to bitch, but for someone who drags me out of my workshop because I haven't surfaced for air in awhile, you're a walking hypocrite. If you can't be fucked to come home because you're stuck up SHIELD's ass, that's not really my problem."

"You know I have important work at SHIELD," Phil tried to reason, though he seemed to know it was the wrong thing to say as Tony's gaze narrowed on important work. There is was, ladies and gentlemen: the crux of the matter.

"Yeah yeah, keeping the world safe from threats, I get that," Tony growled, staring at a random spot on the far wall. "I also know where your priorities lie, and who they lie with, especially now. I am not on that list," he seethed, dragging his gaze back to Phil's.

Phil's expression hardly changed as he parsed through Tony's words, though he obviously didn't draw any good conclusions if his tightening grip was any indication.

"All this time?" He asked slowly, enunciating each word.

"Keeping my workshop cold didn't seem like it would get you to come home. I asked Pep if a flag motif would look good in the apartment, but she said those colors would clash with the furniture or something. Turns out I had nothing to lure you back with," Tony replied, despising the humiliating crack in his voice.

"I don't know why you want to talk all of a - " he began, but Phil's hand clamped over his mouth cut off his protests. It was embarrassing, the way the contact had his nerves buzzing, electricity skating up and down his spine.

"Shut up," Phil ordered, crowding into Tony's space. With one hand still clamped firmly over his mouth, Phil raised the other to cup the back of Tony's head, fingers buried in the short hairs at his nape. "Shut up and listen. We have horrible timing when it comes to our marriage. We lead very difficult lives that come with great responsibility. While my collection is impressive, I have never considered what you are implying."

Tony hated himself for the whine that escaped from his throat. They needed to talk like adults, which would never happen unless they were both less than sober, but this was pretty damned close. Phil was always adept at seeing through Tony's wordplay, always able to see through the bullshit and get to the heart of the matter. He loved that about him; it was one of the main reasons Tony was willing to tie the knot with the man.

"You're going to save the world. You're going to team up with a bunch of very dysfunctional people, and you are going to stop Loki from whatever the hell he has planned. You're going to come home at the end of this, and I will make pancakes, you will make eggs, and we will re- watch Star Trek," Phil said, his voice breathy.

He pulled his hand away, eyes wide and bright as he breathed in, already centering himself from his rant. Tony didn't let him go far, and instead wrapped one arm around Phil's waist, anchoring him to his front. He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but "I love you" tumbled out without his permission. Brow furrowed, Tony rolled the words around in his mouth before saying it again, "I love you."

Phil stared at him, disbelief eking through his mask of pleasant calm; it figured that Tony would make his husband speechless during a crisis.

"I love you too," he replied eventually, the lines around his mouth softening.

"I think we're supposed to be fighting," Tony quipped, even as their heads tipped and their mouths pressed together.

"Mm," Phil hummed, sounding far too nonchalant.

The kiss wasn't filthy like their very first, chaste like their first 'real' kiss, or sloppy like when they were tearing each others' clothes off. It was passionate and slow, low sounds emitted from throats as hands stroked through hair, bodies pressing closer, yet not close enough. It was a meeting; becoming reacquainted after far too long apart. It was perfect and painful, because it was Phil. It would always be Phil.

Breaking apart was almost physically painful, and Tony quickly became aware of their soft pants and the situation they were in. He wished they weren't saving the world, and that they could spend more time pressed against each other without any worries or responsibilities.

"We should probably go," Phil murmured, sounding genuinely regretful as he ran his hands through Tony's hair one last time. It only took a few moments for Phil to straighten his jacket and adopt the calm facade that he wore like a second skin.

There had to be a Guiness record for placid poker faces; if not, Tony would make one.

"Do I have to be nice to the other kids in the sandbox?" Tony snarked, following Phil out of the room and down a series of hallways that Tony vaguely recollected from the Helicarrier specs he'd worked/spied on with JARVIS.

"Yes. You're an adult. Act like it."

"Yes, Dad."

Phil nearly stumbled, and from the corner of his eye, Tony could see pink dusting his cheeks and the back of his neck. Score.

"After all of this, I think we deserve a break," he continued conversationally as they approached the doors that would open onto the main deck.

"What kind of break?" Phil asked, and Tony could tell he was humoring him. They both knew that it would be a long while before any kind of break would come their way.

"A vacation. With communication or some shit," Tony explained, trying to not-so-subtly hint that they really should talk more.

The door opened, and Tony's ears perked up at the sound of a voice saying, "I think it's about the mechanics. Iridium…what do they need the iridium for?"

"It's a stabilizing agent," Tony called out as he and Phil walked onto the deck. Turning to Phil, Tony murmured, "I'm just saying. Pick a weekend, and we'll fly to the house in Portland."

Phil nodded towards the team, his trademark not-smile plastered on his face.

"Keep the love alive," Tony cajoled/pleaded before he turned to the almighty Avengers Initiative. A ninja in a catsuit, an American poster boy in a spandex unitard, the god of thunder and a man with a rage monster hiding beneath a rumpled professor exterior. What great ingredients for disaster. Getting back to the topic at hand, he continued, "It means that the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD."

Tony skirted the table, sidling up to Thor and slapping his arm. "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing." Moving around the table once more, Tony explained further, "It also means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long as Loki wants."

Making his way to the command center of the ship, looked down and then around at the crew, which was pointedly ignoring the Assembly of Dysfunction.

"Eh...raise the mizzenmast. Jib the topsails." Spotting something out of the corner of his eye, Tony pointed to his right and called out, "That man is playing Galaga."

He could feel Captain America's gaze practically burning a hole when he glanced at the table behind him. "He thought we wouldn't notice, but we did."

Galaga Guy, who Tony decided would be Galaga Chad in the back of his mind, had the presence of mind to look sheepish and switch back to his screen. Meanwhile, Tony covered one eye and asked out loud while gesturing to the holo-screens, "How does Fury even see these?"

Maria Hill's crisp, no-nonsense tone answered with, "He turns."

"Sound exhausting," Tony retorted, fiddling with the touch screens, sifting through data and projections absentmindedly. "The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily," Tony explained, picking up the prior topic of conversation. "The only other major component he needs is a power source of high-energy density."

Meandering about, Tony rambled on while discreetly pressing a bug to the bottom of one console, trusting JARVIS to do the rest. "Something to...kick start the cube."

Hill's voice sounded rather disbelieving when she asked, "When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?"

Tony turned to look at her, matching her look, "Last night. The packet. Selvig's notes. The extraction theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

Rogers piped up with a question, not raising his hand like a good boy before asking, "Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?"

The rumpled professor, who had remained silent until Rogers spoke, countered, "He'd have to heat the cube to 120-million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"Unless," Tony argued, "Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

"Well, if he could to that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet."

Tony glanced at Phil, who had taken up a position somewhere else, then crowed, "Finally. Someone who speaks English."

He took the number of steps to bring himself toe to toe with his science companion, even as Rogers muttered, "Is that what happened?"

Reaching out and shaking Banner's hand, Tony pitched his voice low, injecting a sense of intimacy in their introduction.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled."

They shook hands and then Tony said a little louder, waving his hand a bit, "And I'm a fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage-monster."

Banner pursed his lips, glancing away before looking back at Tony, "...Thanks."

Fury popped up from fuck knows where, intruding on Tony and Banner's moment by saying in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring, "Dr. Banner is only here to track the Tesseract. I was hoping you might join him."

Tony knew a dismissal when he heard one. It resonated with "Iron Man yes, Tony Stark not recommended", but he didn't argue, instead sharing a knowing look with Banner.

Rogers, bless his heart, threw out his own suggestion. "I would start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube," Fury replied. "And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

Thor had the grace to look confused, his brows furrowed when he asked, "Monkeys? I do not understand."

Tony rolled his eyes, and even Banner looked a bit disbelieving beside him.

"I do," Rogers blurted, pointing at nothing in particular. "I understood that reference.

Fed up with Captain America's presence and the probable fanboying that was going on wherever his husband was at, Tony turned to Banner.

"Shall we play, Doctor?"

Bruce smirked a bit, shaking his head as he gestured to a set of doors.

"This way, sir."

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