Make no mistakes. He was always a wanker, but...

[ he was her wanker. impossible, frustrating, arrogant -- but oh so often on her side of things. more so than most. and, unlike most, he understood that particular pain of knowing captain rogers as a man and not a symbol. however bungled that familiarity seems to have become in the future. ]

I owe him my life. Tens and tens of times over. [ ... ] There aren't many people I can say that about.

[ she doesn't elaborate but...tony will work it out, she supposes, given a moment or two of silence. howard's work, his inventions, have kept her alive and thriving for years. ]

I can respect that.

[ her feelings, her take on it. maybe not howard, but her image of the man, her love for him. he's grown enough that he can appreciate some things about his father and resent the others. he's grown enough that he can shake his head and say, ]

so he saved your life and you didn't have the decency to get him to save his mustache? seriously, you let him walk around with that stupid thing on his face for years.

Don't you dare blame me for that atrocity. [ she raises a hand; she waggles a finger. ] What say did I have in how he wore his mustache? He was a civilian. It's not like I could bring him up on dress-code infractions like the other lads.

[ not to mention... ]

Having that conversation with him once was more than enough to put me off my appetite for a week.

[ because, oh, the innuendo that followed! ]

I'm just saying, I couldn't blame my mom, they say love is blind. I couldn't blame Jarvis, he was working for the man, you're the last one I could hope would stop that from happening. and yet. you know, he never shaved it, he wore it when his hair went grey.

[ but it does feel good to laugh about the subject, for once, to feel anything affectionate and not also dipped in resentment. ]