“Uh-huh.” Tony only pay enough attention to recognize the guy's giving a non-answer. He's giving way more time to his phone, which he had flipped out and already googling TARDIS tech. The results were about as helpful as Doctor Avoidance here. What kind of tech company doesn't come up on an internet search? Hell, Tony has had “start ups” begging for an audience with him that turned out to be two guys working out of a Starbucks and they still managed to have a .com address. Thirteen year olds with access to mentos and diet coke have a “science” homepage for God's sake. Tony could do multi-variable calculus when he's hungover and having trouble getting his pants back on and this right here? Doesn't add up for shit. “Think I had a girlfriend back in college who majored in that. Wrote her thesis on the theoretical Brie-Chedder Theorem.”
Hell, assuming the loosest definition of 'dating' possible it's looking like Tony has a better chance of being the truthful one here.
Tony's finger is shuffling ideally through various phone function while he tries to work out exactly what the fuck he's doing bothering with this when those pictures he'd taken back at the coffee shop flicker over his screen. Maybe it's seeing the Hulk's big ugly face roaring at him from someone's panicked snapshot but it gets under his skin in a way Tony doesn't like. This guy he's walking with might be good at dodging questions, but Tony's the master of avoidance when it comes to anything bordering on emotional.
He pulls up the lab' computer systems without thinking about it; it's more of a reflex than an honest attempt to take his mind off the subject. “Hey, JARVIS, how's that music education coming?” Tony might be the only person on the planet who, when thrown off balance, finds the most comforting solution to be calling up a self-programed AI.
“Of the 23.84 gigabytes of music stored on the drive, I have had time to process less than 1%.” It's not exactly sarcastic, but Tony feels like it might have a bit of a contemptuous edge to it which is a step in the right direction. “However, I have accessed my memory banks and located a file in which you have included your opinion of the bands features as well as other aspects of popular culture. Would you like me to relay that information?” Tony winces, and in the back of his head he feels a little embarrassed for poor JARVIS. It isn't his fault he hasn't had twenty odd years to be tweaked to perfection.
“JARVIS, if I wanted you to act like a parrot I'd buy a bird. Or even cheaper, I'd just keep an intern locked in the lab.” Tony sighs, feeling a pounding right behind his eyes. He's still following this guy to a restaurant, right? They better have some sort of bar available. Food is quickly becoming a second priority here. “Alright, new plan, just set yourself to hibernate and I'll fix this when I get back to the office.”
“Very well, sir.” The blue glow from his phone faded down as JARVIS's interface entered into sleep mode. Well, that experiment had been a complete an utter failure.
“I've decided. I don't care if you're a fucking lunatic or that kid from punk'd or just honestly...” Tony gave a little wave to indicate that he's not even sure how to fill in the blank. “If this place has half decent hamburgers and a bar, I'm buying.”
no subject
Hell, assuming the loosest definition of 'dating' possible it's looking like Tony has a better chance of being the truthful one here.
Tony's finger is shuffling ideally through various phone function while he tries to work out exactly what the fuck he's doing bothering with this when those pictures he'd taken back at the coffee shop flicker over his screen. Maybe it's seeing the Hulk's big ugly face roaring at him from someone's panicked snapshot but it gets under his skin in a way Tony doesn't like. This guy he's walking with might be good at dodging questions, but Tony's the master of avoidance when it comes to anything bordering on emotional.
He pulls up the lab' computer systems without thinking about it; it's more of a reflex than an honest attempt to take his mind off the subject. “Hey, JARVIS, how's that music education coming?” Tony might be the only person on the planet who, when thrown off balance, finds the most comforting solution to be calling up a self-programed AI.
“Of the 23.84 gigabytes of music stored on the drive, I have had time to process less than 1%.” It's not exactly sarcastic, but Tony feels like it might have a bit of a contemptuous edge to it which is a step in the right direction. “However, I have accessed my memory banks and located a file in which you have included your opinion of the bands features as well as other aspects of popular culture. Would you like me to relay that information?” Tony winces, and in the back of his head he feels a little embarrassed for poor JARVIS. It isn't his fault he hasn't had twenty odd years to be tweaked to perfection.
“JARVIS, if I wanted you to act like a parrot I'd buy a bird. Or even cheaper, I'd just keep an intern locked in the lab.” Tony sighs, feeling a pounding right behind his eyes. He's still following this guy to a restaurant, right? They better have some sort of bar available. Food is quickly becoming a second priority here. “Alright, new plan, just set yourself to hibernate and I'll fix this when I get back to the office.”
“Very well, sir.” The blue glow from his phone faded down as JARVIS's interface entered into sleep mode. Well, that experiment had been a complete an utter failure.
“I've decided. I don't care if you're a fucking lunatic or that kid from punk'd or just honestly...” Tony gave a little wave to indicate that he's not even sure how to fill in the blank. “If this place has half decent hamburgers and a bar, I'm buying.”