Doing the Impossible.: notiron: Even with his creepily time-displaced dad crashing on his...
Even with his creepily time-displaced dad crashing on his couch, Tony’s managed to avoid spending a lot of time around Howard Stark this past month. With 11,000 square feet of mansion to put between them—not to mention a mutual reluctance to acknowledge each other’s right to exist—it isn’t that hard.
So there’s really no surprise that when they finally meet up to take a tour of some of the Stark estate’s more vintage storage holdings, there’s still enough icky, residual tension keeping the two men at a dubious arm’s length from one another.
Maybe Tony figures if he’s going to show off, now’s the time to do it, because he kicks the day off right by pulling his newly-modified Tesla Roadster around front to pick up the old man.
Howard is out by the street corner in a flash, making his last few steps towards the curb as the Tesla slows to a halt. It’s the first time he’s seen daylight in a few weeks; his hair’s a mess of slick, tangled curls, and Tony’s old clothes hang loose on his thin frame. He squints against the rays of light reflecting off the machine in front of him, trying to take it all in.
“…that is one impressive car.”
“Wait until you get a peek under her hood,” Tony says, hopping out of the idling car with his usual flash. Even without the vaguely horrifying father-son age reversal thing, they must look like an odd pair, and Tony, taking in his dad’s verging-on-Hobo exterior with a quick glance over the frames of his Von Zippers, made a mental note to have Pepper call the tailor. “It was cool before I got my hands on it. You hear that?”
There isn’t much to hear beyond a low hum.
“I didn’t think so.” He reaches back through the window and powers the engine off before stepping behind the car and motioning his dad over as he pops the back hatch. “These things were electric off the factory floor, tested at two hundred and thirty-five miles on a charge. I thought we could do better.”
