he'd kinda thought when he made pepper the CEO and everything that it would eliminate any possibility that he would himself continue to have to attend meetings (okay, he knew it wouldn't, but a man can dream) but apparently that was not to be the case. that's what you get when you make yourself the face of a company for a quarter of a century, he supposed - people tend to get attached to you. not that he could blame them, but honestly, some things he just didn't feel the need to be there for at this point.
granted, it did mean that pepper didn't have to go this time, and he figured she could use the break.
as it was, after people and times and spreadsheets and presentations and talks and walks and discussions, he was feeling the uncharacteristic pang of desired anonymity - the kind that one can only get in the middle of the night in manhattan, where nobody cares if you're homeless or hopeful as long as you don't get in front of them and suddenly start walking slower for no reason.
apparently he was also feeling poetic.
apparently he was also not quite as anonymous as he thought.
the great thing about growing up in the public eye is that you tend to recognize when it's actually turned on you or not. you also learn to recognize the early signs of a potential kidnapping once it's happened three or four times, and on top of that at this point he had a few years of general heroism under his belt. top that off with the fact that he was also just staggeringly intelligent, and he felt as though he was pretty good at noticing when he was being tailed. he doesn't alter his path too much, although he casually skirts a little closer towards the curb side of the sidewalk than the other, and continues on munching on his shawarma (yeah, yeah, sue him, it's pretty good now that he's tried it) as he makes his way home.
then, just as casually: ] I mean, you can keep following me if you want or you can just walk beside me. I might still have some fries in the bag.
Re: prompt: I don't like that you've been following me....
he'd kinda thought when he made pepper the CEO and everything that it would eliminate any possibility that he would himself continue to have to attend meetings (okay, he knew it wouldn't, but a man can dream) but apparently that was not to be the case. that's what you get when you make yourself the face of a company for a quarter of a century, he supposed - people tend to get attached to you. not that he could blame them, but honestly, some things he just didn't feel the need to be there for at this point.
granted, it did mean that pepper didn't have to go this time, and he figured she could use the break.
as it was, after people and times and spreadsheets and presentations and talks and walks and discussions, he was feeling the uncharacteristic pang of desired anonymity - the kind that one can only get in the middle of the night in manhattan, where nobody cares if you're homeless or hopeful as long as you don't get in front of them and suddenly start walking slower for no reason.
apparently he was also feeling poetic.
apparently he was also not quite as anonymous as he thought.
the great thing about growing up in the public eye is that you tend to recognize when it's actually turned on you or not. you also learn to recognize the early signs of a potential kidnapping once it's happened three or four times, and on top of that at this point he had a few years of general heroism under his belt. top that off with the fact that he was also just staggeringly intelligent, and he felt as though he was pretty good at noticing when he was being tailed. he doesn't alter his path too much, although he casually skirts a little closer towards the curb side of the sidewalk than the other, and continues on munching on his shawarma (yeah, yeah, sue him, it's pretty good now that he's tried it) as he makes his way home.
then, just as casually: ] I mean, you can keep following me if you want or you can just walk beside me. I might still have some fries in the bag.