12233/The Stark Files: Chapter 3

The Stark Files: Chapter 3
Date of Scene:	24 September 2020
Location:	Paris, France
Synopsis:	Peggy vs. Peugeot
Cast of Characters:	Iron Man, Peggy Carter
Tinyplot:	Stark Files

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Iron Man has posed:
"No... nah... s'fine..."

If anyone was ever looking for some proof that Tony Stark doesn't actually have a heart, they might be able to use a photograph of his face at this exact moment as Exhibit A. He's much paler now than the average coddled billionaire who spends all of his time in a basement. It's as if all the blood has drained from his face in a moment of sheer panic.

But he's trying to play it cool, rather unconvincingly, as he stumbles his way out of a Parisian cafe, without paying for the gross iced coffee concoction that he made the poor longsuffering barista prepare for him.

He'll send a check later. Probably. Or at least his executive assistant will.

"Just gotta get... car..."

Waving his arm wildly as he shuffles down the stairs, possibly in the general direction of his car, Tony seems to be holding his torso unnaturally straight, as if he's either in a lot of pain, or concerned about moving his body too much.

Up ahead the street isn't especially busy, but there are a few cars coming in both directions. One is a Peugeot.

He'll be fine.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"God dammit, man, you are not alone and stop trying to do this on your own!" Peggy hisses, a statement she's said too many times, too many years ago, to a man who looked much like the one in front of her. She dashes out of the cafe after him, though not before tossing a 20 on the counter -- a ridiculous amount of Euros for coffees but she doesn't care. This is why she keeps cash.

She's then at his side again, even as he's walking stiffly. She curses beneath her breath and dips, shifting an arm around his back, trying to get it under his shoulders. "Do not make me carry you. I will toss you right over my shoulder and drag you there. Just lean here, take it steady, and we'll get there." Her voice clips out as flat and commanding as they come. Peggy is taking no arguements in this moment.

She then looks ahead, dark eyes searching for the car, not quite so paranoid as she normally is about them being followed. She has one goal and that is to get him into the car while he's still breathing.

Iron Man has posed:
Whatever aversion Tony has to physical contact, it doesn't appear to be at the forefront of his mind at the moment. At any rate, he doesn't offer any protest as she does the Combat Sidle Up.

She'll probably regret it soon enough though, as he's already starting to sweat through his shirt. And that jacket is just linen.

"Okay, okay, just... gotta hurry."

There's a squeal of tires as a Peugeot hatchback slams on its brakes, followed by a couple of high-pitched horn beeps and a string of what is most likely French Invective.

Too bad Tony's translator app is turned off.

She might have caught him just in time, because he seems to be getting a bit weaker with every step. Legs start getting wobbly, and he looks as if he's about to pass out.

Could that really be just from a missing Arc Reactor? Really just a power source for an electromagnet, right?

Or maybe he's starting to go into shock?

Peggy Carter has posed:
While this is not the night she planned to have in high heels, Peggy has carried bigger men in worse outfits and she's surprisingly built for the curves of her frame. Decades of muscle and fighting help balance Tony against her side as she heads towards the car, "Is...is that self driving?" She asks, not totally surprised but a little concerned. And then she yells back in near-perfect French to the angry motorists, 'Oh, shut it! This is and EMERGENCY!' She doesn't stop. She's just trying to get him to the car.

"Tony, you need to stay with me because once we are in the car, if you don't just have another reactor just sitting there, I don't know how to *help* you here. So you better start talking now because I'm not a doctor but I'm also not going to let you die." It's the best pep talk she has.

She finally gets him to the side of the car, breathless and covered in a sheen of her own sweat from lugging him down the street, but she's not stoping. She balances him against her shoulder, nearly over it, as she uses her free hand to drag the back door open and gently shifts him down to laying across the back seat of the Peugeot.

Iron Man has posed:
"Well... it's totally not a big deal..."

Though he's obviously winding himself up for another round of Tony Stark bullshit, he also isn't breathing very deeply. It has all the telltale signs of a panic attack, though perhaps a justified one. And perhaps there's more to it than that? After all, he's been gradually improving his RT node for about a decade now, who knows what weird secrets it holds.

"Just a little shrapnel, right near my heart. Gotta get the magnet turned back on before it has a chance to shift and cause me to bleed out internally."

Okay, so maybe he's not going to try and bamboozle her. It's as if he's gradually learning a lesson.

She gets them to the car just in time, as he falls into the seat more than anything else, belayed only by her assistance. Which is probably good, as a jostle like that could probably have killed him.

Safely deposited in the back seat, he reaches out for the glove box.

"In... there... I think..."

Not a good sign.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A bit of ragged breath comes as she looks down to him, her fingertips stretching to the side of his throat, at least getting a quick measure of his pulse as she looks him over. Other hand reaches out, dragging open the glove box that he's indicating might have the piece.

"Tony... There's barely an owner's manual in here. There's no other piece for this. Is it *anywhere else*?" Peggy asks, almost demands, trying to use the command in her voice to keep him awake as she looks over his clammy skinned, pale frame.

She then curses, shifting to look across the car, figure out where wires are running. She doesn't need to hot wire the thing, she already has power. SHe just needs a live one. She's end up cracking a beautiful red nail doing it, but she grabs at the little lights on the back of the arm rest, meant to be lights for the back seat. She pushes one on, confirming there is power, before ripping off the housing and killing it again so she can pull free those wires without shocking herself.

Iron Man has posed:
The health plan for employees of Stark Industries used to cover emergency manicures, but that was when all the employees on the fourth floor were aspiring models. Before the Crash.

"Damn dot com bubble..."

Tony's words don't have much bearing on what's going on, which is a sure sign that his mind is starting to roam somewhere else. Confused, clammy, and in imminent danger of a life-threatening cardiac event.

What a catch.

"Are you trying to... turn the AC on? Because I'm actually kind of chilly."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I'm trying to make you something that's going to restart the electromagnet in your chest, Stark. So, you're going to have to be chilly a few minutes while I remember how to work wiring from a car." Peggy states flatly, dark eyes flickering back over him for just a moment, but he's still talking. That's a good sign.

She gets the wire free, carefully peeling back the protective outer rubber layer so she'll have charged surface. "We're... going to need two connections. And probably more power than this light alone. Dammit." Peggy mutters to herself, thinking the whole process aloud. "I hope you go the insurance." As if Tony *rented* a car.

She's then removes her high heel and is leaning THROUGH the seats. The navigation and satellite radio is going to be harder to remove than the light was. She strikes her heel several times at the upper right hand corner, getting through the join betwen car dash and radio. Once she's got herself a little hole, fingers dip in and rip free. Ah. Far more wires. More power. She just needs one that's going to reach.

Iron Man has posed:
"Insurance? Car insurance? I don't know, I'd have to ask Pep--HURRR!!!"

Tensing up, Tony clenches his jaw so tightly that it looks as if he just had some sort of spasm. Which is probably just about the last thing that he needs right now.

The hole in his chest is fairly streamlined, with most of the working parts tucked out of view behind the walls of the cylindrical hole that's been bored into his sternum. But with the Arc Reactor missing from the RT Node, one can see several inches inside his chest, all the way down the metal tube to the piezoelectric crystals at the back that are hooked up to the metal battery leads.

It's complicated on the inside, but the interface seems simple enough. Classic Stark Design.

"It's getting really cold. I shouldn't have ordered an iced coffee."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Live long enough and I'll take you for a proper hot chocolate when this is all over." It takes a few moments of trying wires and unwrapping things to ensure there is one long enough which is still actually connected to power, but Peggy finds it. The radio wire is still live, a slight shock to her fingertips as she tests it. She turns the light's power back on and, for just a second, touches the two together. Sparks. Perfect.

"This might... hurt, once it restarts. I genuinely have no clue, but I'm getting you power, at least." The thought is to keep powering him through the car. She'd have to keep it going, but it would buy them time. Peggy looks down into the strange hole in his chest, taking in a deep, steadying breath. Here goes nothing.

She reaches both ends of the live wires down, carefully trying not to touch the sides of that metal, short tube, and actually get to the leads within. She has no clue what would happen if she buzzes the sides, but it's not what they need. Without the meat of an arc reactor container behind it, her fingertips are free to carefully shift the wires around to the exact place. And in 3, 2...1.. She connects them.

Iron Man has posed:
Touching the sides might well have caused a terrible outcome. But fortunately, Peggy isn't trying to remove Tony's Wish Bone...

Managing to slip the exposed wires all the way to the back without causing any jarring buzzing is no mean feat. But she's probably defused bombs or whatever, so this is probably just another day at the office.

As the wires connect with the leads, however, the inside of Tony's chest begins to hum with activity. The current runs through the metal leads, activating the fairly simplistic mechanical pistons that strike the piezoelectric crystals repeatedly. The crystals generate enough amperage to power the magnet, which turns on suddenly with a very gentle vibration and a subdued 'HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM'.

It's probably quieter when the Arc Reactor is in.

"GACK!"

Tony comes to with a start, almost as if a breaker was tripped and reset quickly. Looking up at the woman who no doubt saved his life, he immediately wishes that he'd said something cleverer than 'gack.'

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Alright! Alright... alright. Just... stay still. These wires are barely in there because once they are live they are *live* and they were NOT made to live in your chest, so...Just, stay still." But Peggy slumps a bit to the side with relief, a cold sweat on her brow for totally different reasons than the one on Tony's. If she was miffed or unhappy with his less than clever response, she's not showing it. She leans over, staring down into his chest, confirming that both the wires still seem live and properly in place against those leads.

"Bloody hell... I'm glad that worked. Just... stay there." She orders firmly. Then she's dragging herself out of the back of the car and around to the trunk. There, at least, is a little travel first aid kit. Something with medical tape so she can slightly better secure the wires. She returns to his side, stretching white tape out and ripping it with her teeth before she begins plastering the wires into place on his chest.

Then her hand reaches up, fingertips reaching for the large artery on the side of his neck, getting a guage of how well it might actually be working other than his stunning conversational skills. "...you know. If you wanted me to get your shirt off, asking would have been easier."

Iron Man has posed:
There might be worse patients than Tony Stark somewhere in the Universe. Heaven help their health care providers if there are. Within just a few short seconds of coming back to some semblance of normalcy, Tony is already pressing his chin to his chest in order to look into his own socket, and reaching a finger inside to fiddle with the wires.

If it were anyone else, he'd probably short himself out and cause a heart attack. But let's give Tony a little bit of credit, he designed the damn thing, right?

When Peggy reappears, tape in hand, Tony looks a bit like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, and quickly yanks it out as if he'd been still the entire time.

He frowns a bit as she checks his pulse, clearly not a huge fan of being fussed over. But his slightly sinister grin seems to slowly be creeping its way back onto his face, which may or may not be an improvement.

"But then you might have said no. This way was a lot more effective, if you ask me."

His mustache distorts and the lopsided grin spreads.

"Does this mean we officially got to Second Base?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"*Stop*." Peggy swats at his hand lightly, since he's pulled it back from his own open chest, still like chiding a naughty child. It takes less than a minute to finish taping his chest when her eyes flicker back up to him and that last comment. "...You are so incredibly your father's son." It probably is not what Tony wants to hear, but it's very true. Peggy's not even phased by being hit on. She's just tiredly amused.

"Alright, that's steady... For now. I also cannot turn the car off, lest I turn *you* off. So, we need to get you to somewhere that you will have proper help or a reactor. Did you bring *any* with you? The hotel? The jet?" Peggy is back to business entirely now.

Iron Man has posed:
She probably doesn't have to worry about turning him off anymore, any reference to his long-dead father is enough to make Tony mentally switch gears. Sitting up slowly, careful not to stretch the wires too far, Tony seems to be back to business as well.

He does, however, look a bit confused.

"Damn. I was just working on it in the car. Could have SWORN that I set it in the glove box for a second right before..."

He cranes his neck to look at the obviously empty glove box, and then gives the car another visual once over.

"Hang on a minute... I'm in a back seat..."

Realization slowly dawns, and Tony can't help but smile again, though a bit exasperatedly.

"This isn't my car!"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Not... your... Car..." Peggy breathes out, staring at him in abject disbelief. So entirely Howard's son. She lets a little, shocked laugh escape her throat. If she didn't laugh, she'd cry. So, she laughs, and drags one hand across her face. "Well, it's ours now. Where IS your car, so we can go get the piece, and start repaying whomever did own this vehicle?"

Peggy sighs, but she'll spend the rest of the night trying to direct through the mess of apologizing for stealing, and wrecking this car, then getting Tony's chest back in one piece.