cruciverbalist | _openpost.exe

Like most heirs to wealth and power, Tony had attended boarding schools. Multiple. School after boarding school, all the most elite, all promising to turn out cultured, educated young adults groomed for success in business. None of them had known what to do with a kid that was more interested in the inner workings of an engine, the inner workings of the newest computers (still a room large at that time) than history, philosophy or culture. Not to mention his fondness for pranks. And so kicked out of one, Howard sent him to another for the cycle to start over before they finally found him intelligent enough for college when he was finishing middle school, handed him a diploma, and declared him out of their hair.

Tony doesn't bother to hide his own tinkering with his cell, flicking open a new blueprint for a renovation of the core in the larger arc reactor that powered his building. He does laugh at Sherlock's comment, ending it with a long drink of the coffee, "Of course past. You met Pep, and you know how I feel about my head remaining attached to the rest of my body. I don't dally without permission."

It's not a complete admission of fidelity, but it's certainly more than his past self would ever allow. Perhaps Pepper has been a bit more of a calming influence on the wild child inventor than even Tony would admit.

"Small talk is no one's specialty except for politicians and con artists," He smirks knowingly, "Which doesn't explain why you don't like it. But, I'll allow you your idiosyncrasies. So. It's always nice to meet a fan--but, I do have to ask. Which do you prefer, my old or my new stuff?" The weapons or the clean energy.

Stark wasn't the only one who was born to wealth and power. Perhaps yet another similarity. Holmes' father practically was the government but that was in England. He's said the reason for moving here was that American criminals had a certain something and that was true enough but it wasn't the full facts. It was actually a small margin of it. Truth enough, with all Sherlock's brashness he still had a proper about him. He, on the other hand - while taking interest in other pursuits - fit the glove of rich and proper British perfectly. He knew the violin and piano, he likes opera, fine dining and arts, but that was just a sample of his enjoyments (and things that few knew about anymore).

"Professional and natural," as if to say that the vast majority of persons who understand the methods of small talk might not professionally be politicians or con artists but they could be of they tried. There is some very vague amusement when he mentions about Pepper but he tucks it away because it lead to -- well. That was done and over with.

"Do you like it?" Small talk, that is. Phone sliding away and resuming its post to link with the other. This answer was barely even a question, for Sherlock, who knew much how to hold a gun and how to shoot one but dreads ever needing to and makes quite a point to have none of them in the house. Ever.

"Your technologies interest me more than either, to be frank. One less lethal weaponry creator in the world, I'd look at it as a good thing. It never stops others from trying to compete. Do you ever consider returning to it?"

"No. I'm too fond of transparency to like watching people lie about themselves to each other in order to make friends. At least without alcohol involved," Tony dismisses the topic with an easy joke.

"My technologies aren't meant for the general public, at least not for the next decade. Please, the new iPhone just came out, and people camped out for days as if they were actually excited for it. You're not ready for next StarkTab," Tony scoffs, "But, I do appreciate a fan of my lesser known works."

Stark Industries is famous for its efforts to clean energy, renewable resources, infamous for its weapons, but it's really the day-to-day tech advances that keep the company afloat. StarkPhones rival Samsung and Apple in the market, while StarkTabs remain a playtoy of the truly technology savvy--those who have time to devote to modding and personalization find that Tony Stark's tablets rival full size systems for speed and performance, all with a sleek, truly minimalist design. The one on the table in front of Tony himself is a few generations ahead of what he's handed over to R&D right now--his own personal toy.

"Ah, but there is a lot you can tell about someone in their lies. Should you know how to spot them.' he mentions and then slides his own phone to the table. It's an iPhone, of course, but Sherlock doesn't have it for the name. He did have a Windows 7. It couldn't keep up, but iPhone wasn't much better to be honest. Clearer camera which was what he needed.

"People," he starts, "not to be confused with me, line up for this," a finger taps the phone in gesture, "because it has a reputation not because it's worth-while. the great thing about Apple is that it's simple. Silve-platter children love it because everything is right there. It's boring. I could take it apart piece by piece and put it back together in a matter of moments, Mr. Stark. Jobs and his innovative technologies hardly impresses me. It's trendy. Not practical and certainly not praise-worthy."

Tony picks up the iPhone, flipping it over in his hands. He makes a face at the screen, turning it on edge to roll his eyes at the thickness of the phone, "Rich kids love it because they're just as vapid as any other teenager. And my tech intimidates them."

"So, you know your tech. That's clear. Maybe not as well as you know people though. So, why the hell did Pepper decide to arrange this little rendezvous? Serious question by the way," he pauses, leaning forward slightly to slide the phone back across the table, "Actually. Do your little deduction thing. About Pep."

He doesn't seem derisive in his request, simply curious--and very used to getting what he wants.

"A compliment, I'll take it as." There's a faint smirk on his lips as he finished the coffee and let it slide back down to the table. A chance to show off? Certainly.

"Pepper Potts," he hums and lets his fingers slide onto the table and tap a moment. "She's very analytical, organized, neat, punctual, strait to the point, practical and professional. Everything you'd want in a personal accountant. I'd dare to even say that she was an accountant before landing her job by your side. Yet while her professional life has made her a star she endures a bit of struggle in social affairs. I'd even say that the common social gathering would be a business related one. Outside of work, it's lonely. Her dedication and brilliance is what brought her to you and her inability to meld with the dullards of typical social welfare is what made her loyal to you," a point, "being the sharp eye, she too noticed your mask you wrap up in alcohol and womanizing but her incredible amounts of patience lasted it out. She doesn't do what she does for money, she does what she does because she cares about it and she's good at it."

Sherlock takes a moment. His head tips upwards in thought. "I'd say that she grew up in a middle-class and average family."

It's far easier to hear those sorts of intimate details about another person, and Tony nods along with the assessment, a snort of laughter as Sherlock mentions the 'dullards of typical social welfare.' He pauses as Sherlock talks about her patience, chuckling under his breath as he taps at the StarkTab on the table, "That reminds me. I guess I should try to remember to get her a birthday present this year. Considering she's my boss and my girlfriend now."

He cocks his head at Sherlocks confession of her social awkwardness, arguing, "So, you think she doesn't like parties? Why organize so many of them then? And she's always the one dragging me along to charity balls and all of that high-society bullshit."

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