Tony wanted to claw his face off. He could picture himself doing it, nails running down his cheeks, lower eyelids pulled down towards his chin. What. A. Joke. If he could fit his hands around Steve’s muscular neck, he would try to wring the life out of him. That just wasn’t going to happen.

So he threw his hands up and wandered back to the spot of sand he’d slept in and dropped back down, arms hanging over his knees.

Mohinder double-checked the spelling with Steve before he put his pad and pen away. “We will send something to make your stay here more comfortable in about an hour and we will do a little research.” Mohinder wasn’t going to give anyone false hope but there was no need to be rude about it. He gave Bruce a small smile and started back towards the way they had come, down the beach and down the bend in the coast where their boat waited. He didn’t expect either subject to follow them and so he didn’t tell them to stay put.

Tony kept his mouth shut as he fumed, as the two men disappeared from sight. He didn’t look up at Steve. He was too focused on the sand in front of him. If he stared hard enough, he was sure he could melt it into glass.