poeticterms | (no subject)

(no subject)

The thing about the Stark house is that it looks perfectly normal unless you are paying attention.

Perfectly normal houses are not covered in quite so many discreet cameras. Nor do they have pressure sensors under the driveway to record where guests choose to park. (Jarvis is already learning Cal's favourite spots in the loop.)

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"Find you an Irene."

Honestly, does Sherlock even listen?

"Not like, literally, but there's gotta be some hot smart chick out there somewhere who'd like you." Cal is convinced of this. He knows from experience that getting to like Sherlock is not necessarily easy, but it can be done. And it is worthwhile. (He wouldn't say that last part out loud, though, it would sound gay.)

"You are assuming of course that I will also like her."

"That would be kinda the point, yeah."

It wouldn't do anyone involved much good otherwise, now, would it?

"Supposing I don't?"

"Then we'll find a different one," Cal says reasonably.

Now Sherlock is just being difficult on purpose.

Not that Cal really minds. (He can kind of guess by now why such a quest might not pan out.)

"Supposing I never do," he elaborates.

"Then you're just a pain in the ass," Cal says cheerfully.

From the door:

"Sherry's always a pain in the ass. What'd I miss?"

Sherlock laughs.

"I think if I ever try to set Sherlock up on a blind date, I've got my work cut out for me," Cal sort-of-explains.

"Oh my God."

Tony snickers.

"Man, you don't even know."

"I'm starting to get an idea."

Or so he thinks.

"I hate to interrupt," Jarvis says dryly, "but the pizza has arrived."

"I'll get it," says Tony, and off he goes.

Incoming pizza! Awesome.

Cal is effectively distracted from the subject of Irenes. For now.

His lips quirk.

"Thank you, Jarvis."

Pizza is a very preoccupying thing.

Which is why, though Cal suddenly remembers a question he'd been planning to ask, it takes a few minutes after Tony's brought the pizza back and they've all settled in with their shares for him to ask it.

"Hey, you guys got the invites for the party this weekend, right? I'm pretty sure Mother put you on the list."

"We did, yes."

"Maybe I won't jailbreak until next week," he says, half-smiling.

"Awesome." Cal looks pleased.

"You know, I'll be honest, it's gonna suck, it's like the big showoff social affair that everyone's expected pretty much since I was born, but if you guys are there, it might not be so boring."

He's also quite certain that his mother is hoping only Tony will accept the invitation, since Sherlock is such a delicate subject socially, but he doesn't mention that. He figures he doesn't really have to.

"I'll get so drunk I won't care anymore; then I'll be happy and you guys'll have something to laugh at. Now your party's not boring. Done."

Cal laughs.

"Mother will never invite you to another one."

At least, not for the next few years. But he has a feeling Tony won't be too brokenhearted over that.

"She'll invite me when I'm CEO of Stark Industries," he says. Just because he doesn't play the game doesn't mean he doesn't know the rules. "And I'll get drunk and make an ass of myself."

Cal laughs some more.

"At least then people will understand why she's putting up with it," he says. "This weekend it'll be all, 'Well, if she wanted someone from Stark Industries here she could have invited' -"

Um.

"- 'someone else,'" he finishes lamely.

In all innocence: "Who, Obie? But you don't even like him."