"Hi, Jarvis," Harry replied. "Where is everyone?"
"Mister Stark is in his lab; Miss Potts is currently in her office and Thor is in the weight room," Jarvis stated.
Harry paused at the missing name. "Wait. What about Clint?"
"Mister Barton has gone 'on vacation'," Jarvis reported. "Mister Stark is most vexed that Mister Barton has disconnected the GPS on his phone and disabled my ability to track him by other means."
"Well, he is a spy," Harry grinned, "it's what he does. I'll head down to Tony's lab."
Not bothering to take the stairs, Harry simply apparated to right behind Tony's desk, making sure to arrive with a loud pop.
"Gandalf! Don't do that! What if I was working on something volatile and accidently blew up half the city?" Tony cried after having screamed at Harry's arrival while ducking himself flat against the table.
"How often do you work with stuff like that?" Harry challenged.
"More often than you'd imagine, actually," Tony shot back. "So, is there a point to your visit, Sparrowhawk or did you just feel like getting a kick out of seeing how much you could scare me with your theatrics?"
"No, I have a reason. Do you know where Bruce is?" Harry asked
"Nope, but I'm sure that I could find him if needed," Tony replied. "I'm guessing there's a reason?"
"Yeah. I just had a phone call from his cousin, Jennifer, and something sounded … off," Harry replied. "She wants to see him but it has to be him going to her and Jennifer won't say where she is until Bruce is available to go straight there."
"Hmm, sounds like we'd better find him, then," Tony said, swivelling his chair around to face his computer and letting his hands dance over it. "Assuming that the Big Guy hasn't eaten it or something, we can use the GPS in Bruce's phone to find him."
"Unlike Clint," Harry grinned, unable to keep from having a dig.
"Don't get me started on that bird-brain," Tony warned. "What if something happened and we needed him? Or he needed us?"
"Um, we'd call and ask him to turn the GPS back on? Or he'd call us?" Harry suggested.
Tony snapped his head around and glared at him. "If you're going to take his side and be all logical, I won't help you."
Harry made a show of pretending to zip his mouth, locking it and throwing away the key.
Tony snorted. "As if I believe that."
A few seconds later, Tony sat back and raised his arms in triumph.
"Got him," he crowed. "He's in LA. I can even give you the exact address, if you want it."
"No, that's okay," Harry muttered. "But LA isn't helpful. How long's it take to get from there to here?"
"Depends on your method of transport," Tony shrugged. "Commercial flight, roughly five hours. Private plane, you can knock a few minutes off that. Using the quinjet, just under three hours, but that time is moot considering you'd need to fly it there first before flying back. I could do the distance in a little over two hours in my latest suit."
"Pfft. All too slow. I can do it in seconds using a portkey. The problem being that I have to know the place I'm going to in order to create one," Harry stated.
Tony's eyes bugged out. "You want to take Bruce for a portkey ride? Are you insane? That's not a pleasant experience! You'd more than likely trigger the Big Guy to come out to thank you for it. And not in the nice way, either"
"Not if I give him a calming potion first. I think," Harry replied.
"You want to risk it? Is it really that important?" Tony asked.
"You didn't hear Jennifer on the phone," Harry said. "Something's definitely wrong and the sooner Bruce is here, the better."
"Well, it's your funeral," Tony sighed. "How do you want to do this?"
"If he's in LA, then he's close to Malibu. Can you ring him and get him to go to what's left of your old place? I'll duck home, change and portkey over there and bring him back," Harry decided.
"Can do," Tony said. "Just do me one favour? Don't portkey him back here. I really don't want to have to get the decorators in again."
ooo00ooo
"You're sure about this, Harry?" a worried Bruce asked, holding the small vial in one hand but focussed solely on the wizard in from of him.
"Absolutely," Harry replied.
"It's just that, when the … other guy doesn't like something, he tends to make a … mess," Bruce continued to argue.
Harry shook his head.
"You and Remus would have got on amazingly!" he muttered.
"Huh? Who?" Bruce asked.
"My honourary uncle. Doesn't matter, he died years ago," Harry waved the question away. "Look, I'm so sure that this'll work that I've set the portkey for my apartment. Do you really think I'd do that if I thought that you'd destroy it?"
"Well, if you're sure," Bruce said doubtfully.
"I am, now, drink up," Harry commanded.
Finally, Bruce did as he was told and slugged back the potion, only shuddering slightly at the taste of it. Within a few seconds, Bruce's face began to relax, the constant worry lines fading away. Harry waited two full minutes, observing his friend closely before nodding.
"Right, I think we're ready. Hold on," he said, holding out a piece of ribbon.
The instant that Bruce did so, Harry activated the portkey and the two disappeared in a swirl of multicoloured light.
They arrived in the middle of Harry's apartment hard, with Bruce tumbling away and falling over the back of the couch. When Harry hurried across and looked over in concern, it was to see Bruce on his knees holding his head.
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