Chapter Text
Prologue :: Do Androids Dream (of Electric Sheep)?
Rain pelted down on the dirty and perpetually busy metropolis; down onto the hazy pollution that had since enveloped the entire planet, and left it with a yellow-green hue on ground level. But at the height that Tony Stark stood, the air seemed to be cleaner; he could see the skyscrapers and glistening lights of New York City without the smog and decay that everyone else was subjected to.
He clicked his tongue in thought, intentionally avoiding the invitation to Odinson Corp. It had arrived the day before; presented by a representative of the company, whom cordially invited him to an audience with Thor Odinson; as if that would sway him to dine with his competitors; which it certainly would not, not when Stark Industries had lost millions due to Odinson Corp's reinvention of the android.
Androids while manufactured on Earth were not made for use amongst the locals. But the way in which Odinson Corp advertised androids, sold them for far cheaper than Tony would ever imagine doing; there had been several instances in which their vastly inferior products had passed onto the black market, and had been discovered where they needn't be.
Such sloppy business dealings weren't Tony's forte. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize his company's reputation by dining with any Odinson. After all, Stark Industries was the pillar for excellence in android technology; while their prices might have been exceptionally high, the androids in which they sold to colonies around the galaxy understood why.
Tony had designed a superior product; he knew by using nefarious means to gain Odinson Corp's blueprints and data on their Cerberus 7 model. Compared to the Mark IX, the Cerberus 7 were nothing more than mannequins with artificial intelligence. They hardly looked human, let alone spoke with a voice chip that had the capabilities of anything less than a monotone drone.
They were an abomination to the technological advances of the past forty years; which only aggravated Tony further that they were the cause for the twelve percent decrease in sales over the past year. And he couldn't possibly bear to ask Pepper about their losses for the upcoming fiscal year.
"Mr. Stark, you have been asked to reply to the invitation you've received from Mr. Odinson within the next twenty-four hours." A cool feminine voice reminded him, a task that JARVIS normally would do; but it was drawing to that time of the night, in which case he couldn't dawdle any longer.
He turned away from drab city skyline, eyeing the woman who stood before him. Her crimson colored hair curled around her shoulders and her beautiful face was an emotionless mask, but very much human to behold. No one could tell the difference that she was originally the base model for the Mark V; only to be upgraded several months earlier to the Mark IX capacities.
Then again Tony reveled on upgrading Natasha whenever he made a technological breakthrough. She was the only android he had in his care, and it had been hell to gain the government's approval to allow him to own one of his own inventions.
"Almost twelve-thirty on the dot," Tony peered down at his wristwatch, before tapping his index finger against it. "Well, let's get down to the lab then."
"As for the invitation," Natasha replied in a voice that really hadn't lost its monotone; a great grievance to Tony, but it seemed to be ingrained into her personality. "Miss Potts asked me to remind you; she expects an answer from me before my recharge."
It was pretty much an inevitability; if Pepper wasn't there to badger him about seemingly important dates, she oftentimes recruited Natasha to do so. He had yet to design an effective program to block Natasha's efficiency, particularly when it came to other people's suggestions.
"Send her a message saying that I rather burn in hell than play nice with Odinson. But don't forget to add love Tony to the end of it." He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, while starting for the laboratory and workshop which was an elevator ride away.
Natasha remained rooted to the spot, currently occupied by sending the message to Pepper's Stark Phone or tablet; probably both. The process lasted four point five seconds exactly, before she swiveled on her heel to accompany Tony in the lift.
His personal lab, which touted as much technology (if not more) as the research and development floors, was two floors below his penthouse suite. And the place he spent the majority of his time in; he had seen very little of his own bed over the duration of fifteen years. But genius hardly took a holiday; not when there were androids to be built.
Tony and Natasha rode in the lift in companionable silence. It was a routine they had established after seven years of being creator and createe. While Stark Industries had made advancements in leaps and bounds with androids; they still required recharging for six hours, which was a vast improvement from the previous thirteen.
Once the elevator slowly bumped to a halt, Tony shot an amused look at his android. Her eyes were alit with preoccupation again; and that only meant Pepper had gotten his message already, and was responding in turn.
"Miss Potts has sent a reply to your message at twelve twenty-six am." Natasha spoke, quickly following him as he exited the lift and wound his way through the many workbenches and daunting pieces of machinery.
"Let's hear it then." He rolled his eyes, already anticipating the worst.
"Tony, this is the perfect opportunity to resolve your issues with Odinson Corp. I've taken it upon myself to get in touch with Mr. Odinson's personal assistant Jane, and I have RSVP'd for dinner tomorrow evening at eight o'clock. And no, you cannot get out of it; and most certainly no, you cannot bring Natasha."
"Damn that, Potts." He muttered, before beckoning Natasha to follow him to her port; which really wasn't an average port to say the least.
As much as androids were not run-of-the-mill appliances, their ports (or recharge centers) weren't either. Natasha's port was starch white chair built into a nook in the wall. Tony opened up the small door that aligned perfectly with Natasha's neck while seated, and pulled out the power cord.
Without being prompted to do so, Natasha pushed back her hair and flipped open the panel at the back of her neck; before taking a seat and allowing Tony to plug her in for her recharge. The action was a familiar one; Natasha twitched minutely, until she finally settled down against the back of the chair almost casually.
"Good night, Mr. Stark; my charge will be complete at six thirty-two am."
"Sweet dreams, my crimson haired angel." Tony replied with the exact same sentiment that he did every night; it was a well-rehearsed script between the two of them.
"But you know better than I that androids cannot dream."
"That doesn't mean I can't dream of the day that you will." He gently touched her cheek, as her eyes drooped closed. "And I wonder to myself – do androids dream of electric sheep? The twentieth century must have been a scream! JARVIS turn off the lights and set my alarm for six twenty."
"Yes, of course sir. Shall I delay Miss Natasha's awakening if you cannot be roused?"
"Ring the alarm bells in that case; I don't want to overcharge her again." He headed towards the lift once more; the fluorescent lights went out one by one as he progressed through the laboratory.
As he entered the elevator, the last light flickered off and plunged the laboratory into darkness. He smiled almost thoughtfully in the direction where Natasha was, before the doors slowly closed shut, and the lift came back to life underneath his feet.
"JARVIS, dear," Tony piped up to speak with his AI whom ran far more pressing matters than Natasha did.
"How may I be of service, sir?"
"Remind me to send a gift package to our lovely Miss Potts; filled with hundreds and hundreds of genetically altered strawberries. The ones last seen during the twenty-first century,"
"I was under the impression Miss Potts loathed strawberries, sir."
"Precisely why I want them sent to her," Tony winked up at the elevator's ceiling. "She deserves a reward for setting up my play date with Odinson, don't you agree?"
"Certainly,"
"That's my boy." He smiled again, although he loathed his obligation for the upcoming evening.
Exchanging business quips with Thor Odinson was inevitably a disaster in the making. And to be quite frank, while he certainly wasn't a man of intuition; Tony imagined nothing good could come from it. He had a gut feeling that he was walking into a trap of sorts; and he could only hope that he was simply being paranoid.