Sunshine Debt and Ice Cream Diplomacy

California's waves lapped against Malibu's beach in a lazy rhythm. Xiao Han sank into a lounge chair on the terrace like a sunstone finally returned to the furnace.

The morning sunlight poured over him without restraint. Every inch of his skin greedily absorbed that pure energy, warmth seeping into his bones and driving away the last traces of gunpowder smoke and cold that did not belong here. He let out a satisfied breath, and even his hair seemed to radiate contentment.

Happy's massive frame stood several meters away like a dutiful guardian statue, though his gaze kept flicking toward the terrace entrance.

He was Tony's bodyguard, driver, and "multifunctional assistant." His boss had been gone all night, and the commotion in New York had been terrifyingly huge. The string in his heart was drawn tighter than Tony's armor plating.

But this man... Happy watched Xiao Han utterly relax, looking as though he might melt into the sunlight, and his own taut nerves strangely loosened a little. At least this gentleman had returned safely, and he seemed to be in a good mood. That counted as good news, more or less.

He casually opened the small freezer beside him, Tony's personal one, packed to the brim with premium ice cream from Stark Industries' newest sponsor.

Happy picked out the biggest chocolate-coated cone. He figured that this "tenant" who had just helped clear New York of alien trash was fully entitled to consume some of his landlord's ice cream supply.

"Hey, Xiao!" Happy's booming voice carried the straightforwardness unique to a bodyguard. With a flick of his arm, he sent the cone arcing through the air. "Catch! Freshly made... uh, freshly thawed! Tony's buying!"

Xiao Han did not even open his eyes. He casually raised his right hand and caught it steadily. He expertly tore open the wrapper and took a huge, satisfied bite. The icy sweetness burst across his tongue, mingling with the warmth of the sunlight, and a nearly inaudible sigh of pleasure escaped his throat.

"Mm." He answered vaguely, accepting this "gift of thanks from Tony." Then he took another huge bite, the chocolate shell crunching loudly. "Tell Tony," he said with his eyes closed, his voice languid from being thoroughly sun-warmed, "that he owes me sunlight, and he'll have to repay it with double the ice cream. Today's serving counts as interest."

Happy grinned, flashing his white teeth. "No problem! I'll make him a list later! I guarantee it'll hurt his wallet!" He saw absolutely nothing wrong with collecting thanks on his boss's behalf and delivering bills on someone else's behalf.

Protecting his boss's property, including this villa and the people inside it, was his responsibility. And Xiao Han clearly fell into the category of assets that needed special protection and absolutely could not be offended. Keeping him happy was good for everyone.

The terrace fell quiet again, leaving only the rhythm of the waves, the cries of seagulls, and the faint sounds of Xiao Han leisurely enjoying Tony Brand ice cream.

Sunshine, beaches, free ice cream... this was life. As for that stage in New York that had been beaten into a sieve? Who cared? The sunlight still felt the same on his skin.

New York, Manhattan.

The top floor of Stark Tower—ruin edition. Tony Stark stood amid the wreckage, twisted, charred metal and shattered concrete beneath his feet. His faceplate had opened, and his face was smeared with oil and dust as he stared blankly at the increasingly bright sliver of dawn on the eastern horizon.

The morning breeze swept through, carrying the lingering stench of burning and the faint smell of blood from the ruins. It also chilled his heart.

A few hours ago, this had been his throne overlooking the world, the symbol of his technological empire. Now, it was a massive wound grinning as it mocked him, a cold monument to absolute power crushing every dream. That calm, bone-chilling voice seemed to still echo in his ears: "Insects, the field has been cleared. The stage... should be dismantled."

Then the stage had really been dismantled. In a manner so simple and brutal that everything he had learned in his life could neither understand nor replicate it.

"Sir, vital sign scans indicate that Mr. Thor has extricated himself from the ruins. His injuries are stable. Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers are assisting with the evacuation of the last group of civilians. Agent Barton has been recovered."

"Doctor Banner... is in stable condition. Director Fury requests communication." JARVIS's voice sounded in his ear, delivering the report with calm neutrality.

Tony wiped his face, trying to erase the exhaustion and the helplessness that had sunk deep into his bones. "Put him through. Could it get any worse?"

Nick Fury's face, written all over with "the world owes me money," appeared on the virtual display inside his helmet. Behind him was the busy control room of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. "Stark. Report the situation. And that 'uncontrollable variable'?" Fury's voice was low and hoarse, getting straight to the point as his single eye stared intently at Tony.

Tony pulled out a smile uglier than crying. "Report? The situation is that you can see a massive ruin, while the aliens have turned into scrap metal and barbecue skewers all over the ground. As for that 'uncontrollable variable'?" He pointed down. "After tearing down the stage, he probably went back to California to sunbathe. He left even more decisively than Hulk demolishing a building."

Fury's brow knotted. "He just left? What about Loki? The Tesseract? The Scepter?"

"Loki?" Tony shrugged and pointed at the black hole nearby, where several floors had been forcibly smashed through. "He's probably serving as filler inside some concrete block down there. We won't be digging him out anytime soon."

"The Tesseract? It's still lodged in the core of that device that got torn to pieces, though its energy fluctuations have stabilized. The Scepter?" Tony's gaze swept over the floor nearby, where the curved metal staff crowned with a dim blue gem lay quietly amid the rubble.

"There. You want it? Send someone to pick it up yourself. I'm not touching it. Who knows whether it's got that gentleman's fingerprints on it, or leftover energy from when he was in a bad mood." His tone was full of self-mockery and the exhaustion of surviving a disaster.

Fury fell silent for several seconds, seemingly processing this overly "simple and brutal" ending. "Did he... say anything?"

Tony thought back. Other than "insects," "clear the field," and "tear down the stage," that guy seemed to have... "Oh, right." Tony seemed to recall some trivial little detail. "He mentioned that he got disturbed while sunbathing."

Watching Fury's expression turn even uglier, Tony felt an inexplicable, twisted thrill. "So, Director, if there are any more alien scum or internal idiots trying to stir things up next time, please pick a cloudy day. Or... stay farther away from California. I don't want to come home one day and find that he cleared out my villa and the beach along with it as a 'source of noise.'"

Complex emotions flickered in Fury's single eye before finally becoming a heavy sigh. "...Understood. S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel will arrive shortly to take over the scene and the... 'items.' Leave there as soon as possible, Stark. The aftermath... will be troublesome." The communication cut off.

Tony stood where he was as the morning sunlight finally crept over the ruins, illuminating the devastation. He looked at the Scepter lying quietly on the ground, then at the bottomless black hole, before finally turning his gaze toward the distant west.

That guy was probably lounging comfortably on the terrace of his Malibu Villa right now, sunbathing while eating his ice cream.

A powerful, absurd feeling surged through him, mixed with lingering fear and a slight irritation at being freeloaded off. He took a deep breath and shouted at the air, more like he was talking to himself, "JARVIS!"

"I'm here, sir."

"Pull up real-time surveillance of every ice cream stockpile in the villa! Especially the limited editions, the ridiculously expensive ones! And connect me to the terrace camera! I want to see exactly how much of my stock that freeloader has destroyed!"

His voice carried the nearly hysterical indignation of an ordinary man. The helplessness of having his technology utterly crushed was temporarily replaced by the righteous fury of the "Ice Cream Defense War"—probably the only place where he could still salvage a shred of dignity in front of that inhuman being. Though that shred was pitifully small.

The terrace of the Malibu Villa.

Xiao Han slowly finished the last bite of his cone, not even sparing the chocolate shell. The sunlight left him warm all over as energy flowed gently through his body and accumulated. He squinted comfortably like a large feline predator.

The communicator on Happy's wrist vibrated. He looked down at Tony's encrypted message, filled with exclamation marks and ice cream icons, then looked up at Xiao Han's satisfied face. The corner of his mouth could not help twitching.

He cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound natural. "Ahem, Mr. Xiao, Boss Tony seems to be... almost done over there. He asks... what other flavors would you like? So he can have... uh, have logistics prepare them in advance."

Happy perfectly translated Tony's resentment-filled "ice cream inventory alert" into "logistical concern."

Xiao Han did not even lift his eyelids. He lazily waved a hand. "Tell him we'll talk after he pays off the sunlight debt. For now..." He adjusted his position, sinking deeper into the chair, his voice heavy with sleepiness. "...keep it quiet. No matter how big it is, it can wait until I've had my fill of sun."

Happy immediately fell silent and returned to his position as a "guardian statue," though inwardly, he lit a candle for Tony's little ice cream treasury. A sunlight debt? At this rate, the interest might be eaten until the end of time.