“God! Do none of you still understand what sarcasm is?” Tony had cried out in feigned outrage, throwing his hands up in defeat.

He then high-tailed it out of the room as fast as his boots would take him. Definitely an exit that has form and function. He could probably work a bit more on his comedic timing, though.

One should probably know their audience. Unless his audience suddenly decided they had Victorian sensibilities. In which case, there was a distinct lack of fainting chairs that’ll never allow sarcasm to survive the room anyway.

He had offered to buy Steve’s farm — a large plot of land in the middle of the boonies. Perfect for Tony to build an S.I. data center on. It’s a pragmatic and resourceful proposal — because seriously, who just happens to inherit a tree farm? Who even buys Christmas trees anymore? The business was failing just on the premise alone. Not only did Rogers have to stick to the whole ‘Man out of Time’ bit, but he also had to throw in a Hallmark movie trope too.

Nostalgia was just fear with better PR. And apparently, also tax-deductible.

Which is why Tony locked himself up in his workshop again, spending far too much effort on a prototype that wouldn't be manufactured on time for the holidays. It’s too bad really, but there’s always next year. Right? Because while he may spend an unhealthy amount of time in a suit of armor, he’s still a businessman first and foremost. And also, a brilliant engineer who was working on designing S.I.’s first-ever Stark-approved Christmas tree — one with auto-fluff capability, self-flocking, programmable LEDs, and maybe propulsion-assisted set-up and disassembly.

This was only another example of why dealing with binary numbers will always remain superior to human interaction. People were irrational and it always led to too many unaccounted variables. The punchline didn't land right and now he’s suddenly public enemy number one to the team again. Not that someone had just turned down a reasonable influx of capital for a sentiment that’ll just bleed money in about six months.

Tony didn't even look up from his screen when the glass door smoothly slid open with a click. Everyone should know that interrupting him in the middle of a session was just a bad idea by now.

“I’m not apologizing,” he quips, fingers dropping a ternary instead of writing out a switch operator like any sane person.

But when he looked over his monitor?

Oh.

That was not…who he’d been expecting.

Back to the screen.

“I’m about to start ESD testing,” he says as he clears his throat. He’ll blame it on the lowered humidity. “If you’re staying, grab a grounding bracelet.”

Everything’s normal. Super relaxed. This was not the behavior of someone who just emotionally face-planted in front of his co-workers and was hiding behind IEEE standards.