AN: Well, rather than update any of my published fics like a sensible person...

Anyway, I started writing this in a notebook about a month ago and have now typed it up and edited it. I have vague plans for a continuation, but I'm not planning on actually writing anything right now.

This is a standalone sort of one shot thing, but it's also one of a pair (the other one features Jack as an Avenger). I will post the second one... some time... as a second chapter to this fic, to keep things simple.

No warnings, rated PG just because Tony.

Tony Torchwood

The sound of the Hub door spinning open – quite unnecessarily loudly, all the bells and whistles and blaring klaxons, he was disabling that first thing, ow – broke into the muddled pool of alcohol that was Tony Stark's brain. He groaned and pushed himself upright, grabbing for the repulse gauntlet that he'd been working on before he passed out, just in case. It might be an alien invasion. It was Monday, after all. Probably.

Blinking blearily across the Hub from the workstation he was slouched at, Tony's hungover brain decided that whilst Ianto might be an alien – it would explain the always impeccable suit, and the coffee, and the fact that he was conscious and functioning at this time in the – Tony checked his watch – OK, fine, sort of afternoon – well, he didn't constitute an invasion. And hey, coffee. This was the kind of invasion they should get more often, instead of the ones with slime and nukes.

'Coffee, sir,' Ianto said smoothly, depositing a mug on Tony's desk and adroitly retrieving the three previous ones that had begun to generate civilisations amongst the scattered debris of drunk-science-Tony-engineering. The Torchwood agent skilfully ignored the cannibalised alien tech that Tony did not have clearance to access, the strong smell of alcohol and – oh, please, let that not be a working lightsabre on the workbench.

Tony gave an incoherent mumble which might have been an obscenity or possibly a declaration of love (or both; this was Tony) and began inhaling caffeine. Ianto left the lab space with his nascent germ civilisations, bent on committing genocide with a dishwasher, and nodded to Gwen as she came in through the iris door. In the lab he'd just left, Tony could be heard swearing a blue streak and vowing to reprogram the door to be hangover-friendly. Gwen spotted the mug of coffee on her desk and gave Ianto a grateful smile.

'How did the hunt go?' Ianto asked her, noting the splatters of mud she was trailing with disapproval.

Gwen made a face. 'The damn thing got into a theatre somehow. I was busy trying to get it down from the ceiling and – you know those tentacles? Well, it –'

Across the Hub, in the Medbay, a grim and unearthly groan echoed. Gwen grabbed at her gun on instinct, Ianto deposited the mugs on the nearest surface and grabbed for a firearm, and a minor explosion in the lab, together with a sudden drop in brightness, indicated that Tony had grabbed at his repulse gauntlet and fired at a light by accident. Hungover Tony invariably meant property damage, although in fairness, so did drunk Tony. And sober Tony.

The ghastly, alien groan echoed again, and this time Gwen made out the words "coffee", "my head", and "damn you, Tony Stark, go fly a nuke into space you overgrown action figure" in the distorted susurration.

A hand appeared on the autopsy table, then another, and Owen Harper hauled himself into view, blinking owlishly and cursing a blue streak so wide that it could be seen from space.

The lift clattered into life and began to descend, as everyone relaxed and replaced their weapons. Ianto retrieved the mugs and headed towards the dishwasher again, as Toshiko stepped from the paving stone, which began the return journey.

'Afternoon,' Tosh greeted Gwen and Ianto, who smiled, and Owen, who swore and slunk off towards the cool, dark morgue to nurse his hangover. 'I erased all the footage of the tentacle thing and the University –' She paused, and sniffed the air suspiciously. 'What did Tony blow up this time?'

'The lights,' Ianto said casually. 'Don't worry, nothing's on fire. Much. Dummy is still programmed with the fire safety protocols.' The distant sounds of Tony threatening the bot with being sent to the ESA's space programme told the rest of the story.

Toshiko glanced over. 'Is that a working lightsabre?'

'Oh, I really hope not,' answered Gwen, as Ianto replied, 'I believe so.'

Tosh blinked. 'He was drunk. How on earth did he –'

'I believe that Mr Stark broke into the Weapons Vault in the Archives whilst we were otherwise occupied,' Jarvis' smooth voice echoed through the hub. 'At the time, Agent Jones was occupied preventing Dr Harper from vomiting on the computers, Agent Cooper was extinguishing the fire caused by Mr Stark's failed rocket launch, and Agent Sato was erasing the security footage of Iron Man dancing in Dewi Sant Shopping Centre with a Weevil to "Gangnam Style". I myself was unable to prevent him as he had programmed an override code into my mainframe.'

'Tosh,' Ianto said calmly.

'On it.' The technician immediately leaped for a computer and began to scroll through Jarvis' coding.

There was a pause.

'Why is he our boss?' Gwen queried.

'I ask myself that daily,' Ianto replied as he emptied the old coffee cups, watching carefully lest the mould prove sentient.

Tosh had booted up her workstation and was pulling up other windows as she continued to work on Jarvis' coding, consulting with the AI occasionally. 'Looks like we've dealt with the Rift activity for today,' she informed Gwen.

'Just as well,' Ianto contributed from the sink. 'I doubt Tony could fly straight today.'

'You should start hiding the alcohol,' Gwen suggested.

Tosh shook her head. 'He just goes to bars with Owen, gets drunk, hits on women and then comes back here to break the laws of physics.'

Meanwhile, in his lab space – a sizable room with glass walls on three sides and brick at the back, several workbenches, computers, bits of technology, and totally sealable in under three seconds – Tony was booting up the holographic screens that he'd installed as soon as he'd arrived, scorning the regular monitors used by the rest of Torchwood. He pulled up some prototypes and began to pull them apart in the air, the familiar patterns of the Rift monitor scrolling through the air to his left. The helper bots were rolling around the lab trying to repair the broken light from the stray repulsor blast, and it was back to business as usual. Tony did his best to ignore the hangover. He had practice and Ianto's coffee on his side, but still spared time to deliver a sullen glare at Owen, who had reappeared from wherever he'd slunk off to with a decided spring in his step.

'Oi, fairy lights!' Owen yelled.

Tony winced. 'Keep it down, you quack,' he grumbled as his headache spiked.

Owen strode into the lab, looking smug and clutching a phial of something. It was an unnatural shade of green. Tony eyed it with distrust.

'That had better not be more of that Vegan Mudworm toxin,' he said warily. 'The stuff that was meant to make everyone speak French and instead made everyone swell up like puffer fish. And by everyone, I mean me. Why did you have to test it on me anyway?'

Owen grinned. 'Cause it was funny. Anyway, this isn't mudworm toxin. You remember last week we were working on the hangover cure serum?'

Tony looked up from his coffee and raised an eyebrow. 'You finished the synthesis?'

'Yup,' Owen said proudly. 'It works perfectly.'

Tony grabbed the phial, flicked the bung out of the top with his thumb, and downed the liquid.

Gwen, outside the lab, looked up in alarm. 'Ianto,' she said slowly, 'Tony just drank something Owen gave him. Be worried?'

Ianto looked over. 'Jarvis, initiate protocol Kappa, authorisation Jones, I.'

'Protocol initialising,' Jarvis said coolly.

The lab door beeped and slammed shut, bolts sliding across, as the lab sealed itself with a hiss. Owen and Tony looked around in surprise and alarm and began to bang at the door, cursing loudly.

'I believe that Mr Stark has just consumed the hangover serum that he and Dr Harper were synthesising last week,' Jarvis announced over the swearing.

'Jarvis, analyse that substance, please,' Tosh put in.

'I will do my best, Agent Sato. However, the remote sensors in Sir's lab were compromised by the blast. It may take several hours to fully decode the molecular structure and run simulations to gauge the effects upon a human.'

'Just do your best, Jarvis. We don't want a repeat of the bubble incident,' Ianto said calmly. All three agents shuddered.

'I shall endeavour to complete the analysis as soon as practicable. I shall, of course, monitor Dr Harper and Mr Stark to alert you if any ill-effects become apparent.'

The swearing redoubled in intensity. Tosh toggled the intercom to mute.

'You know,' Gwen said thoughtfully after a moment's silence, 'I can't think why we don't use this protocol more often.'