ironmonger | (no subject)

"Of course," Obadiah says. "You can't build anything without a solid foundation. You got anything to add?"

"Safewords. I would like to choose something less antagonistic than Mozart."

Tony doesn't get it.

But then, he doesn't need to.

"Why don't you keep Anthony," he suggests. "You only need one. And I'll keep Obadiah, because—" He gestures aimlessly with his glass, at a loss for words to explain what is suddenly so obvious.

Obadiah looks mildly amused over Sherlock's remark.

"That sounds fine," he says. "Having more than one might get a little complicated."

"And of course," he translates for Obadiah's benefit, "I am going to break the one he and I normally use."

Because the fantasy doesn't make sense any other way, and because Tony trusts him that far.

"Of course."

That will certainly be something to see.

Tony grins into his glass.

"This is gonna be good," he says happily.

"Any more suggestions from either of you?" he inquires.

Because the only things he can think of now are best reserved for a private conversation with Obadiah.

"Not right off the top of my head," he says. "I'll have to give it some more thought first."

And have his individual conferences with each of them. That will really get the ideas pumping.

"Should I leave you guys to plot?" Tony asks. He is feeling awfully snuggly and comfortable at the moment, but he can go be comfortable on a couch downstairs. And damn does he ever want these guys to have plenty of time to plot.

Obadiah gives him a fond look.

"That seems like the logical next step."

"Okay."

But first, kisses! He puts his drink aside, sits up, and gives Obadiah a very snuggly, comfortable kiss.

Obadiah is more than willing to go along with this, reaching up with his now-free hand to stroke Tony's cheek.

Excellent.

And when that is done, which takes some time, he leans over Obie's lap and kisses Sherlock.

Who does not trouble himself to maintain anyone's personal space while he kisses back.

Obadiah has no immediate objection to this.

Just as planned.

"Okay," he says, climbs up off the couch, and finishes the remaining third of his drink. "Bye, guys. Have fun. Don't kill each other. Love you."

That about covers it. Grinning, he walks out.

"...It always surprises me when Tony does something devious," Sherlock comments. He is, unavoidably, sitting rather closer to Obadiah than he was a minute ago. "He is such an innocent, straightforward creature most of the time."

Obadiah chuckles.

"It's cute."

He makes no move to open the space between them back up.

"It is," he agrees, tucking his feet up under him on the couch (his shoes, of course, vanished while no one was looking). Their shoulders touch. He does not think about murder even once.

"So. How shall we arrange this, exactly?"

Obadiah takes a thoughtful sip of whiskey.

"You'll get him in there first. I'll leave you time to get settled, and to get him in a position where he can't fight back too much. Something I can discreetly let him out of after so we can turn on you. Maybe you should come first, so you're a little preoccupied with that and it's made you totally complacent."

Dryly: "It may take more than that to make me totally complacent."

Obadiah looks amused.

"If we were trying for realism, then nothing about this would work because you would have killed me the second you realized you had reason to."

"That is why I said may. But I suppose that depends on whether you prefer a bit of a challenge."

"What kind of challenge are we talking about?" he asks.