it sounds like a bad joke

[watchesthewatchers]

A genius and a spy walk into a grocery store.

Comments

[profiteering]

The genius eyes the produce girl, and picks up an apple. He finds a mushy spot and frowns.

"This is why I don't do my own shopping."

Unless it can be found in a can, bottle, or box; then Tony shops without fear.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Then shut up and push the cart."

Smiling, nudging him towards them.

[profiteering]

"Did you-"

He looks at the girl, at Peter again.

"Did you hear what he just said? Do you know who I am?"

He pushes the cart. With his sleeves pulled down over his hands so he doesn't have to touch the push-bar.

[watchesthewatchers]

"I'm going to bring you to London one day, where you'll have to deal with not being a celebrity. Ergo, not allowed to be be a brat."

Nose wrinkling in dismay, as the store sort of stalls en masse in recognition of Tony's entrance.

[profiteering]

"Yeah, London loves Iron Man, too."

Iron Man more than Tony, there, but still. And just because of Peter's dismay, Tony approaches a small, giddy child and signs an action figure.

"Besides, if I don't get at least three hours of praise from strangers per day, I start to wither away. Ask Pepper, it's true."

[watchesthewatchers]

"They all have to clap their hands together and say 'I do believe in fairies?'"

He asks, utterly innocently.

[profiteering]

Tony lifts an eyebrow, taking that as a personal challenge.

"I like it better when they start singing Black Sabbath for me. I bet they would."

'Iron Man' (the song, of course) has flooded the airwaves since Tony announced who he was.

[watchesthewatchers]

Oh, there is no matching the look of scorn that earns him.

"Honestly? Black Sabbath?"

[profiteering]

Tony steps toward him, galled.

"Iron Man. Where do you think I got-"

But it's too late. The eight year old child Tony autographed for is off and miming the guitar riffs, singing the first words to the song.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Oh, I know them."

Lip curling.

[profiteering]

"They're classic."

Tony grins, and considers making the store play the song--or at the very least getting more customers in on the rendition. Instead he hauls Peter to the cereal aisle where he's more familiar shopping. You don't have to squeeze a box of Cheerios to know if it's ripe.

[watchesthewatchers]

"What else do you listen to?"

Prompting for anything better.

[profiteering]

"AC/DC."

Which he plays at most of his Expos. He grabs a bag of yogurt raisins.

"Was into Slipknot for a while, that was a weird phase. What about you?"

[watchesthewatchers]

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you. Put those back, they're ungodly. I want to go back to the vegetables."

An impish smile.

[profiteering]

"All right. I like a man with ideas."

That and he's becoming increasingly susceptible to that smile, the mischievous one.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Well. As a young man from a poor family growing up in the UK in the late eighties and early nineties, shall I say that my music wouldn't so much have stolen yours' lunch money as mugged it and beaten it half to death with a beer bottle."

He murmurs, sounding so very posh.

[profiteering]

"Kids these days."

He grins at him.

"Did your music ever turn you into an icon, though?"

Behind them, people are peeking around stacks of cereal and bags of chips, just watching and following.

[watchesthewatchers]

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It was individualistic anarcho-punk."

Shrugging.

"But not quite as specifically as yours did, I must admit."

[profiteering]

"Play some for me. When we get back to the house."

It's very hard to imagine a man in a conservative suit being into punk anything. Which, he supposes, is the point.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Maybe one day I'll dig out a picture."

Recalling, as he puts zucchini, squash, fresh corn into their cart.

[profiteering]

"Oh. Oh, if you don't, I'm going to go hunting for one."

That would be worth hunting for.

[watchesthewatchers]

"You won't find them unless I let you."

He promises, serenely. Four different kinds of cheese, all vitally important.

[profiteering]

"Then I'll just have to apply a little leverage."

He picks up one of the cheeses and examines it.

[watchesthewatchers]

It's something pretty, creamy, dutch. Peter is ahead of him now, onto olives and pickled red peppers.

[profiteering]

"So what is all this going to be?"

He's briefly interrupted by requests to pose for cell phone pictures, which he obliges because he's on vacation.