Who needs Myspace when you&#39;ve punched Hitler?

"Looks like you're all ready, man." Murdock stopped at the bottom of porch stairs and leaned against the railing. "Where you headed off to? Not that it's really my business," he added quickly. "Just kinda hopin' it's someplace good."

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"New York," Steve told him. "It's home."

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"Been there once. It's nice." He glanced around briefly. "So...got any last bits of teacherly advice?" he grinned.

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Steve thought about that. "Don't let your students put themselves down," he finally decided. "And don't you put them down, either."

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"I think the first's a lot harder than the second. Some of these kids, man," he shook his head a bit. "Seems a shame they can't just be kids." Instead of things like warriors and weapons.

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"Yeah," Steve agreed. "It can be...yeah. But that's your job. Be an adult so they can be kids. I think it's what a lot of them are here for. They won't like it," he added wryly. "They want to be at the front of it. But. That's not their job."

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He nodded, "Yah. I gotcha. Been tryin' to keep some of them chipper and give 'em a good time. I imagine some of 'em got so used to doing things for themselves they don't think about lettin' anybody else help 'em."

"Maybe as teachers we can change that."

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Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking of Namine. "Maybe you can."

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"Yah." Murdock echoed Steve's action, looking down along the street. He, however, was thinking more of Reno and Rikku. "All we can do is try."

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Tony was waiting, hands in his pockets and thinking about the power levels for the stabilizers.

He should call Steve about them when he tried them first.

Or something. Get Jarvis to.

"Those pictures you drew when I was a pony aren't getting back to the papers, right?"

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"No," Steve assured him. "They're for personal amusement only." Probably.

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"Good."

Not that anyone would believe he was a pony for a weekend.

He found the house pretty interesting to look at now. "Don't get killed. The computer would go to waste."

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"Yeah," Steve said. "The guy who gets all my stuff can't draw." Or use a computer, probably. "So I'll do my best."

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"We can't have that," Tony agreed dryly. He was sure something more should be said here.

"And don't try fighting any gods."

Sage advice.

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"They might start it, though," Steve pointed out. "Or be trying to smash up Times Square, which is basically the same as starting it."

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Tony just stared for a moment.

"Right. How about you call me if that happens?"

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"You'll probably already be there. And we're fighting," Steve reminded him. "Or. Wait. You meant you, you, didn't you?"

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Tony just nodded slowly, giving him a look that clearly suggested Steve might have brain damage from that concussion still.

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Steve rolled his eyes. "It's complicated. You do realize that, yes?"

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That got him another look. "No. Meeting someone who knows an alternate version of me while building a mechanical suit of armor is as simple as things get."

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"Could always be worse." Steve grinned at him. "Decided on a color scheme yet?" he asked innocently.

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"Color scheme?" Tony narrowed his eyes, head turned slightly as he look at Steve warily. "Do you have suggestions?"

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"That would be cheating. But, let me know what you decide so I can laugh at fate. Or not."

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"I'll send you pop up ads," He threatened. "For porn."

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