A/N: Alright, so this happened. Yes, I'm staring yet another story. Yes, I'm aware I'm a sucky updater. If I manage to write more to this, it will be multi-chaptered. I haven't decided on pairing yet since the timeline of it is still uncertain but I might just throw in some Destiel and maybe possibly some Frostiron, depending on the plot of everything. So basically, this is post-Iron Man, pre-Avengers and I'm as for where it stands during Supernatural. I'm not really sure yet... I'll probably throw in a few characters but of course that's all assuming I continue. Take notice that content below is my first try at writing Sam and Dean so don't expect greatness. Okay, rant over.

…...

Stark Expo. Previously, Stark Industries' excuse to throw a kick ass party while showcasing the newest batch of weapons. Now, Tony Stark's excuse to throw a kick ass party while showcasing his newest suit. And, of course, to hire the Iron Man dancing girls.

To Dean Winchester, the whole prospect of it was bucket loads of geeky, which of course meant that his brother was practically foaming at the mouth to go check it out. Which led to a newspaper being practically shoved in Dean's face when Sam slammed the door of the Impala shut, twisting around to throw a white, plastic bag into the backseat. The bottles inside clanged when it landed on the floor and the rustle of chip bags was audible. "Check it out."

Dean spared a scathing glare in Sam's direction but still snapped the paper to make it stand straight. The headline stared back in big, bold letters and his brow furrowed as he read it over. "What the hell is a Stark?"

"Not what; who," Sam explained with enthusiasm as he snatched the paper away, flipping a few pages into it. "There. Look." Dean begrudgingly leaned closer to see what was being pointed at. ""A Stark Industries staff member killed in a tragic accident a day before the Expo. Coroner reveals it to be an electric shock of some sorts." Apparently, the guy just... blew up," Sam recapped, turning his head to check for a reaction.

Dean pulled the paper back, green eyes scanning the article before he folded the newspaper and tossed it into the back seat. "Where'd you say this was again?" he questioned, brow furrowed. Sam was looking pretty damn pleased with himself. "An industry skyscraper in New York. No one came in or out of the building, according to security."

"So the guy decorates the inside of an office with his guts and no one finds it suspicious."

"Guess they don't think it's worth the trouble to worry over," the younger of the two suggested, grinning widely. "Man, these cops are getting dumber by the day," Dean breathed, shaking his head as he pushed down the parking break. "So, New York then?" Sam asked hopefully. "We'll get to check out the Expo, right? Dean?"

Dean didn't spare a glance at his brother, instead pushing in the cassette lodged in the player. The car rumbled as it started and fingers tapped the wheel in beat to the blaring music as the car turned towards the parking lot exit, leaving the gas station behind.

…...

Tony Stark rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation, already feeling a headache forming. Of course this had to happen today, of all days. And of course, 'Death at Stark Industries' seemed to be a catchy front page headline. Fuck timing.

Pepper was suddenly back, holding a cup of coffee and Tony accepted it graciously. His office had been swarmed with police officers, nervous employees and journalists from the moment he stepped inside this morning and it seemed he was finally, finally, going to get a breather. He hated how he was never right about these things.

Pepper had barely been out the door when her head popped back in, looking almost apologetic. "There are two men from the FBI here to see you," she informed him, causing a confused look to appear on the billionaire's face. Since when did the FBI get involved in anything like this?

"Just let them in," he sighed, gulping down a bit more coffee before tossing the cup into the trashcan. Pepper nodded and the door opened fully, revealing two guys that barely looked old enough to be working as feds. One was comically larger than the other, sporting a grand head of hair and a fading bruise on his face. The shorter one simply looked like he'd stepped out of a male modeling magazine. Definitely not your average feds.

"Hi, Mister Stark? Agents Stiles and Murdoch, FBI," the taller spoke up. Two badges were flipped out but Tony was barely paying attention, his mind trying to figure out why those names sounded so familiar. Wasn't there an old show a few decades back...

"Right. Remind me, why is the FBI involved again?" Tony pushed as he reluctantly got up from his chair. The two men were closing the door behind them and it looked like a few hushed words were exchanged, the shorter of the two looking like he was scolding the other, before they turned back to face him. "I'm no expert when it comes to matters of the police but I thought you guys had something better to do than study accidents; even weird ones."

"Slow day at the office?" the shorter offered, grinning at his own... what was that, an attempt at a joke? They really did let anyone in these days. The glee died when he turned to look at his partner's stoic face and Gigantor cleared his throat before he spoke, his forehead wrinkled up into a look of 'I'm sorry for disturbing you.' "Right. Well, if you don't mind, we'd just like to ask you a couple of questions?"

Tony sighed, settling back into his chair. "I don't see what you'll gain from it, but shoot."

The one with the shorter hair quickly grabbed the single chair, glancing up to his partner with an almost smug look. The giant didn't look pleased. Tony cleared his throat to get their attention. The one standing quickly looked up, stepping away from his partner to glance around the office. "Mister Stark-"

"Please, call me Tony."

The large one paused momentarily before he continued speaking and scanning the large office. "Right. So, Tony, have you noticed anything strange recently?"

"Kid, read the news. I'm Iron Man. You're going to have to be specific."

"Cold spots, flickering lights," the other agent interrupted, green eyes trying to stare the billionaire down. Probably because of the kid comment. But then, Tony's eyebrows furrowed. Flickering lights? Was he being serious? "You wouldn't happen to know what sulfur smells like?"

The billionaire blinked once. "Sulfur? Look, I don't have time for this crap," Tony told them in exasperation, reaching out a hand. "Let me see those badges again." The taller one whipped out his, handing it over to Tony. The genius turned it in his hand, checking the name -Stiles- fingernail tapping at the badge. He glanced up at the pair of waiting eyes and sighed. Looked real enough. Maybe they were the black sheep of the bunch, sent out on crap missions.

"No, I haven't felt any cold spots, X-Files." The badge was tossed back to it's owner, who struggled to get a grip on it after the purposely crappy toss. The other one looked slightly amused by his partner's clumsiness. "Look, are we almost done here? I have a shitload of work to get to," Tony tried, gesturing towards his desk.

"Yeah, I can see that," the one not called Stiles -Murdine? Hardoch?- remarked sarcastically as he gestured with his chin to the bottle of scotch standing next to the stack of paperwork. Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Signing papers makes me thirsty." The guy -Murdoch, that's it- grinned before his face went business-like again. "So nothing out of the ordinary, then?"

"You mean not counting the dead body that traumatized the cleaners? Nope. Everything's just splendid. Will that be all or do you want me to open up my desk drawers so you can rummage through those too?" Agent Stiles froze where he was running through a stack of papers lying on the shelf. "No, this should do just fine, Mister Stark. Thank you for your assistance."

"Assistance? We have squat," Murdoch mumbled under his breath as he stood up to join his partner. Stark leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry," he remarked sarcastically. "You'll be the first to know if my electric system goes downhill, which I doubt. First tower to have self sustaining, clean energy."

Tony raised a challenging eyebrow, causing the male model one to mumble something unintelligent under his breath. "What was that?"

"I said, there's no need to be a dick about it," Murdoch spoke up, turning around. The other agent sighed quietly, as if he was used to these outbursts. "Oh, quite the contrary. There's always a need to be a dick about it if I'm being asked about sulfur. You guys are ridiculous," Tony continued with a short chuckle, shaking his head.

"We're just trying to help, you selfish-" The agent was cut off from saying more by his partner tugging at the sleeve of his jacket, shooting him a warning look. Tony watched with amusement. "Ooh, partner's got you an a leash, huh? Is there something going on there?" He pointed between the two of them, causing both eyes to narrow. "A little messing around with the co-workers?"

Green eyes blazed as they aimed a heated glare in Stark's direction. He simply folded his hands, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"The door's right there. Careful not to hit your head on the way out," the billionaire added with a pointed look towards the huge one.

"Hey! No one makes fun of my br- partner, except for me," Murdoch cut in defensively. Tony raised an eyebrow at the finger pointed his way, giving the two agents an unimpressed look. "Sure thing, Buttercup."

Oh, this guy was rich to poke at. His jaw was clenched tightly and he looked as if he wanted to launch over the desk and strangle him. Of course, the guy with the 'way too long to be manly' hair grabbed him again, raising his eyebrows as he tried to tug his partner away. "Let's just go, Murdoch. He's no help."

"Yeah, Murdoch. Go find something to shoot at."

"Oh, I'll find something to shoot at, alright," the shorter one grumbled under his breath before he was being tugged towards the door. "Thank you for your time," he remarked sarcastically and Tony gave him a mock salute.

"Self obsessed, piece of-" The door closed and Tony smirked, finishing the last of the scotch. At least he got a bit of fun out of the endless and annoying interrogations. After a second's thought, he poured more into the glass, glancing down at the papers that needed to be signed. Why couldn't the paperwork have fallen on Pepper?

…...

"I hope whatever we're hunting rips his vocal cords out," Dean grumbled under his breath as they walked out of the building, Sam taking long strides to keep up with his brother's angry steps. "Dude, relax. Stark wasn't that bad. Judging by some of the reactions people tend to give us, I'd say he was polite."

Dean scoffed. "Go ahead and protect your boyfriend, Sammy. Just do it in your own time. We have a job to finish here." Sam rolled his eyes, nodding to the security guard manning the doors. They stepped out into the busy streets of New York, Sam running a hand through his hair as people rushed by. Dean was still right. That chat had been no help at all, although meeting Tony Stark had been pretty damn cool.

"What's next?"

"Well, since our corpse was turned into human stew, that's a dead end. We need to get a clue of what we're trying to gank, here," Dean replied, stepping away as an angry looking business man threatened to stomp them down in an attempt to get past. "Research?" Sam offered.

The older frowned. "God, I hate that word."

Sa, let out a short chuckle. "Alright, you should check for any violent deaths in the guy's family or in this building. The EMF meter might have been picking up something but Stark distracted me before I could get a better reading. I'll go back in to check it out-"

"Woah, woah, slow down there. Why do I have to go hole up in the history of splatter man?" Dean protested, foreseeing the hours of research ahead and pushing down a groan. "How 'bout I go in and do the fun stuff while you go look through dusty files?" The older nodded with enthusiasm, eyebrows raised in an attempt at 'you know you want to.'

Sam sniffed, fixing his brother with a 'nice try' look. "How 'bout no," he shot back, lips tugging into a smile.

"Fine," the older agreed begrudgingly, furiously digging out his car keys and the receipt for the parking garage. "You call me if you find anything," Dean ordered, eyebrows raised as he pointed an accusing finger at his brother. The keys dangled in his hand and the ticket fluttered in the wind. "Of course," Sam answered earnestly, followed by a short chuckle at his brother's displeasure with this arrangement.

Dean nodded, one more dirty look getting thrown over his shoulder as he started walking down the street. Sam just heard the offended "watch it, granny!" being shouted in a familiar voice before he pushed through the revolving doors.

…...

Alright, so Tony's a dick. I hope I did every character justice and hopefully this was interesting to read. I'll probably cross-post this to AO3 as well. Don't forget to review, letting me know whether I failed utterly or just a tiny bit.