2017.01.09 - Munchies of the Rich and Famous
Chinatown didn't really go through the same rhythms as the rest of Gotham City. It was a world unto itself. Many shops were open despite the late hour on a Sunday night and several obvious (and not so obvious) restaurants were doing a brisk business.
Walking at a brisk pace down a narrow street is none other than Bruce Wayne. Though it might be hard to recognize him right away because he wears a quilted parka over his casual clothing with the hood pulled up to keep his head warm too.
Tony Stark doesn't go through the same rhythms as pretty much anybody else on the planet, so it's likely not a surprise to anyone who knows him that he's in Gotham City, Chinatown of all places, this late on Sunday.
Dim sum cravings know no hour. He has learned to accept this, and acceptance is the first step of...indulgence, usually, knowing Tony.
Having rocketed there with some of his more covert tech augmentations, he has at least pulled on some casual clothes over his faintly scandalous bodysuit. What? It helps not having big, billowy stuff that gets caught on everything. Being caught on flagpoles is not only inconvenient and potentially injurious, it also tempts long lectures from Captain America (and other patriotic sorts) about being respectful to the symbols of freedom and whatever, he's at least comfortable with his body, even if everybody else isn't.
Even with the hooded pullover (with a stylized Robbie the Robot design emblazoned across the chest) and his hands shoved into the pockets, it's still a little cold. But dim sum shall warm him from the inside! And, probably, some tea. Maybe some sake too, if they have it. The regional Asian cultures tend to mingle a bit with regards to cuisine offered, and he's pretty sure this one restaurant has sake warmed just to the right temperature: slightly above room temperature, not hot, and perfectly smooth with that warmth. Oh, he can taste it now! The faintly nutty bouquet, the smoothness going down.
Just as he moves to pull his hood up, he nearly bumps right into Bruce, taking a step back. "Sorry. Guess my mind was elsew--" Then he pauses, and his lips spread into a toothy grin. "Oh ho. I see I'm not the only one with late-night cravings."
Nearly run into, Bruce reflexively reaches out in case Tony is off balance. "Oh, it-- Hey! I know you. You've been on the cover of Fortune, too!" he declares. That would be the first place that Tony's face comes to mind. Never mind all of Tony's other work. "What are you doing here?"
"Late-night craving!" Tony reiterates. "Dim sum. Come on, you'll love it. We can bond over steamed buns."
With a motion of his hands, quick since it's cold, Tony indicates a nearby turn-off into a well-lit alley packed full of various businesses. Mostly restaurants and bars, there's one bright red one with gold decoration that reads, in Chinese, Japanese, and English: DIM SUM RESTAURANT. Not one to waste any time, Tony eagerly leads the way.
"Don't forget my work as a centerfold," he adds, going to the door and opening it, then standing to the side and gesturing for Bruce to step in first. "But that was just the one time. Still, the issue goes pretty high on ebay, last I checked."
Bruce chuckles. "You too, eh? I was up to my ears in paperwork and I just felt like my stomach was trying to marry my backbone. I didn't feel like waking Alfred up to fix something so here I am."
Bruce follows along, not at all surprised to find business in full swing here in Chinatown. It probably wasn't the first time he'd come here. Probably wouldn't be the last time either.
"Centerfold?" he questions as he steps past Tony into the warmth and wonderfully delicious scents of Asian food. "You gotta tell me about that!"
"Alfred. That's...your butler, right? Majordomo, really, if he's anything like Jarvis." Tony steps in after Bruce and pulls the door shut behind him.
Instantly, the aroma of delicious food greets the both of them. There are spices, oils, teas, everything blending together into a harmonious whole. The English of the hostess may not be perfect, but it's more than good enough; the two are shown to a table, and Tony sits and peruses a menu.
"Oh, the centerfold? Here, gimme a second." Setting down his menu, Tony slides a hand into his pocket and produces a small smartphone, tapping the screen a few times after sliding his finger across it. After a few seconds, he slides the phone across to Bruce and, on it, there's a very artful picture of Tony...and an Iron Man helmet the only thing standing between him and full frontal. "It was a charity gig. I wanted to go, you know, full monty but they couldn't do it. Oh well."
"Yes, Alfred is the family butler. Pretty much raised me, actually," Bruce explains, accepting a menu from the hostess with a charming smile. He is just about to look at it when the smartphone is offered. An amused chuckle escapes him at the sight of the picture. "Well, good work for charity," he congratulates Tony, pushing the smartphone back across the table. "Playgirl once asked me to do a spread. I politely declined. Gotta leave something to the imagination, right?"
Tony chuckles, picking the menu back up and skimming it. "You too, huh? Family butlers, right?" It's so casually addressed that it might as well be any common thing. It might as well be the weather.
"Oh, you know they don't usually show it all on celebs, these days." Once Tony's apparently decided what he wants, he sets his menu down and picks up his phone, tapping it off into sleep mode and sliding it back in his pocket. "Dunno if they're calling. I should ask Mrs. Arbogast. Or Pepper." He gives that a moment's contemplation. "Huh. Maybe I should just call the magazine and ask. I feel like...I feel like my secretary would just tell them no, and my administrator would probably tell them hell no."
"I think Alfred might actually have a heart attack if I posed for Playgirl," Bruce replies with a hint of mischief shining in his blue eyes. "Not that I don't get myself in enough trouble as it is already." He sets his menu aside and shimmies out of his parka, hanging it on the back of his chair.
Once both menus are on the table, a waiter approaches to take their orders. Bruce tells the man, probably a relation of the hostess, what he wants to eat and orders a pot of hot tea as well. Turning to Tony, the waiter looks attentive and poised.
"If he's anything like Jarvis, he wouldn't bat an eyelash," Tony comments, and then he gives his order too, replacing the menu in the little holder in the center of the table. "My treat," he adds. "I insist."
The light is low in the place, but they aren't entirely alone as patrons. There are a couple of people at the tiny bar in the back, and there are some other tables occupied, although the conversational ambiance is fairly quiet, like a low hum.
"Heh, you're probably right. He's seen me through plenty of shenanigans over the years," Bruce says with a fond smile. "Thank you," he adds with flawless manners. "You'll have to come out to the house some time. Oh! Did you hear about the fund raiser coming up this week? Should be quite a to do."
"Jarvis has changed my diapers. I'm pretty sure he's not going to be that worried about me parading around in the altogether." Tony laughs, keeping his tone quiet enough, but he still has the enunciation and elocution of someone who regularly addresses large crowds and is noticed. And furthermore, likes to be noticed. "At least, he hasn't been too judgey." For the most part, anyway.
The tea arrives shortly after, with two cups, and the waiter pours one for each of them. Tony thanks him with a "xiexie", which is one of the small bits of the language Tony knows very well, and accompanies it with his winning, bright grin before picking up his cup and raising it in a sort of toast gesture to Bruce before he takes a sip.
Licking his lips after his mouthful, Tony sets the cup down, lifting his brow at the question. "Oh, right! I'll probably put in an appearance. I might even wear all my clothes."
"Just as Alfred changed my diapers. But I think he expects me to do a better job of living up to the Wayne family name," Bruce says with a grin.
"Xiexie," he echoes after Tony once the tea is poured. He mirrors Tony's silent toast before taking a sip of his own, enjoying the heat and flavor of the tea.
"Well, if not for my sake, think of the animals," Bruce says after Tony's last quip about clothes. "I hear the city zoo will be bringing some star attractions to the fund raiser."
"Oh. Well in that case, the animals won't mind. They won't be dressed for the occasion. Or will they?" Tony lightly touches his teacup, moving it to turn it lightly with his fingertips. "Maybe I can have a special armor made for them. We can have...Iron Marmoset!" He chuckles, sitting back in his seat. "Ferrous...ah, Flamingo? I can't think of any other animals that start with an F right now."
Then his sake is brought, in a white ceramic carafe, and with two cups. "Do you partake? It's nice and warm. Just right! Warms you from the inside. You always pour for the other person, at least in Japan. It's a thing."
Bruce chuckles heartily at Tony's joking, the sound warm, rich and smooth as melted chocolate. "Well, I think only the penguins might be dressed for the night," he offers a rejoinder. "It is black tie after all."
The sake arrives and Bruce shakes his head when Tony offers him some. "No, thank you," he demurs, raising his tea cup for another sip. "But don't let me stop you," he's quick to assure the other man.
"Black tie, then. I can do that." Tony smiles, pleasant and pleased at what he's hearing and seeing.
He pours himself a cup of the sake, since he's the only one drinking, after all, and raises this too to Bruce. "Kanpai!" He then announces, bright-eyed and smiling, although he pauses as he brings the cup closer. "I guess that's okay to say. Oh well." Then he takes a sip and visibly relaxes. "Mm. That's so good. So good."
"Well, I think 'cheers' in Chinese is 'ganbei' but you are drinking sake which is Japanese..." Bruce muses, trying to figure out which bit of polite speech would be more appropriate. "Regardless, I wish you good health and prosperity," he concludes, lifting his tea cup again before taking another sip.
The other diners seem occupied with their own food and conversations. Occasional spates of Chinese can be heard coming from the kitchen. The hostess continues to greet and seat people until the whole restaurant is practically filled with customers.
"Popular little spot. You've been here before?" Bruce asks.
Tony lifts his cup again, agreeing with that easily enough and taking another sip before he rests his sake cup next to his teacup. "Right back atcha! Good health and prosperity. Especially in the new year."
He glances around as the tables steadily fill. "Looks like we got here just in time. Yeah, I've been here a few times. Best place I know of for dim sum. Only place I know of that I could remember how to get to that's open at this time of night." And, evidently, popular for eating at this time of night. Maybe it's the club crowd.
Bruce nods. "I don't think I've been to this particular place before," he says, looking around for any familiar sights. "Then again, I'm no stranger to late night munchies." Quite frankly it's amazing he's here without the paparazzi that usually hounds him. Probably the cold and foggy weather was keeping them indoors tonight. And so far it seems that none of the other diners happen to recognize either one of the famous men.
"This your first time in Gotham? I'm surprised we haven't met before now. How many times have I been to New York or California?" he asks rhetorically.
"I get around." Tony grins in response, leaning forward now, just a tad on the table, a little closer. He has the scent, even amongst all the pleasant smells of food in the kitchen and around them, of expensive cologne. But he knows what he's doing, and he hasn't overapplied it; it complements his own natural scent of clean, well-groomed gentleman. Tony is the kind of "what you see is what you get" guy, perhaps surprisingly to most.
"I don't usually linger too long in Gotham. Crazies, y'know? You've got a reputation. But I like all the history. You see it everywhere." Tony looks around. "Even here, there's always layers of the past."
"Yeah, crazies," Bruce agrees, a bit of a smirk tugging at the left corner of his mouth and etching a dimple in that cheek. "But they're *our* brand of crazies. Gives the city a bit of character," he says, quick to defend Gotham. "Stick around long enough and you might run into some of them. Preferably the good ones."