So, Iron Man apparently needed better surge protection in his suit.

"Okay..." Suddenly her mouth dropped open. She turned. "You're having an affair with Tony Stark," she said, and it wasn't a question.

Specifically engineered as a recreational able to safely mix with alcohol, it'd been through more tests and trials than some of his navigational equipment, and hadn't received an ounce of official funding. No one wanted to fess up that the idea of flooding the market with a quality-controlled substance might actually be a good one.

If they'd been in the field, Tony might've been worried.

"Do you like burgers? I like burgers."

Rodney/Tony -- Rodney's driving down the 405 when it happens.

Now, the man is looking at him with a curl to one side of his mouth that might be a smile. "I'm Nick Fury," he says. "Director of S.H.I.E.L.D." There's a pause, and Alec tries to think of something smartass to say, but he's got nothin'. S.H.I.E.L.D. It's like the frickin' Death Star, and not the one with the whoops-blow-up button, but the fully armed and operational battle station. He swallows.

Tony. Bruce. Sex.

Written for the prompt: "My Little Pony/Avengers fusion. Pony porn, people! Any avenger!" Consider this your warning for hot pony on pony action.

When Dr. Doom's technology and Loki's magic react badly to each other, the Avengers are sent into the future, leaving Jarvis to watch the world crumble and Panem to rise as he waits for their return.

The blur has resolved itself into a man, mostly covered in red and blue, who turns his masked head and snarks cheerfully at Tony.