Chapter 3
The first thing Tony did after locking the bathroom door was sitting down on the bathtub edge to inhale deeply. Once, twice, and then, a third time.
‘It’s okay, Tony,’ he whispered to himself, ‘stop trembling, you’re save.’ Or so I hope, Tony thought. He closed his eyes and kept on breathing, counting steadily from one to five on each in-breath and each out-breath while ignoring the beads of cold sweat on his face and the pain in his left arm. The last thing Tony needed right now was a panic attack on the edge of a super villain’s bathtub.
I can already see the headlines if I managed to break my neck here, he thought and immediately wondered what Pepper would make of this epic PR disaster. That is, if anybody cared at all. At the moment, I’m just a bum in a place I probably have no business to be in.
From next door, Tony heard Loki moving about: there was an occasional creaking floorboard (from the intervals between the noise, Tony gathered it might always be the same one), the clattering of crockery, and, most strange of all, Loki humming a tune Tony recognised.
It was a simple folk-song from Asgard, a favourite of Thor’s who liked to sing it when in his cups. Then, the phone rang, and Loki answered. ‘Wait a second,’ he said, and Tony heard him walking away. There was the sound of a door being closed softly. Probably went into his bedroom so I can’t listen in, Tony thought, hoping that the Norse God of Mischief wasn’t about to put one of his nefarious schemes into action. Tony had strong feelings about that kind of thing and wouldn’t like to get involved in any way. But then, something else occurred to Tony: what if Thor had changed his mind and decided to pay a visit to his wayward brother after all? In that case, I hope they won’t throw me out on my ass because they need the bed.
Realising what an unlikely idea this was, Tony dropped the remains of his elegant made to measure three-piece-suit on the floor (the poor thing never stood a chance against the hardships Tony had to face recently) and took a quick shower to wash the worst of the grime off his body and out of his hair. Then he ran a bath of very warm water, added a few drops of bath essence, and gingerly lowered himself into the tub.
Approximately half an hour later, Tony was already feeling slightly better. He put on the clothes Loki had given him; they had miraculously reshapened themselves to fit Tony, but at this point, he had totally decided to stop worrying and jog along with the situation. And, having found a beautiful wooden box which contained an unused, old fashioned shaving kit, Tony chose to take his sweet time and give his greying, neglected facial hair the much needed grooming he enjoyed so much. There is nothing I can do right now so I might as well make Loki wait a little, Tony thought defiantly while lathering up the shaving soap with the luxurious shaving brush that came with the kit. And I'll look awesome while doing so.
Soon, Tony realized that the much beloved routine helped to stabilize his emotional state even further. He fondly reminisced about the time when his father’s manservant, Edwin Jarvis, who was much more of a father figure than Howard himself, had first taught him the art of wet shaving. Jarvis had always praised his light-handedness with a straight razor and, since Howard seldom bothered to grace his only child's achievements by showing any sign of approval, this praise was another fond memory. For a moment, Tony froze while looking at his reflection in the mirror but quickly regained self-control; he had a lot of practice after all. Tony inhaled deeply again, counted from one to five, and calmly started to transform the stubble on his chin into his favourite style, an elaborate, neat anchor beard.
While putting some finishing touches to his beard by using a pair of barber scissors he had found lying on a shelf, Tony tried to listen in on what was going on in the drawing room. Loki was talking on the phone again, apparently trying to place some order. By the now familiar creaking of the floorboard, Tony judged that his host was pacing the room. I need to do something about that noise, Tony mused because no matter how ill he felt, he would always try to fix things.
Tony applied some soothing balm and a splash of cologne (the former billionaire, who remembered those exclusive brands very well, briefly wondered how Loki made enough money to afford them) and then it was time to leave the refuge.
‘Very well,’ said Loki to whomever he was talking to. ‘See you soon.’ Yeah, right, Lokes, Tony thought as he laid his hand on the door handle. Let’s see what happens next.
And bravely, the man formerly known as Iron Man opened the bathroom door to find out what the Norse God of Mischief had in store for him.