Fandom:
Iron Man (movieverse)
Rating: PG-13 (may change later)
Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Summary: It
will not be long, love...
Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong
to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, NBC, and
other
entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement
is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. All others
belong to me, especially Cedric, and if you want to borrow them, you
have to ask me first.
Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
Thank you, Cincoflex, for your
patience; thank you, Laura27md, for your eye for detail. You
ladies are the best.
*********
She was dreaming; wandering down some long outdoor storage space
floored with grass, trying to get Tony’s attention as he selected
a watermelon from the shelves. He had a meeting that he was
supposed to be at right then,
but he ignored her, going on about how they’d find a nice shady
spot and have a picnic. The watermelon he carried kept growing in
his arms, and she was torn between the meeting’s urgency and
worrying about how she was going to eat her share of the fruit.
But no matter how long they walked, the shelves never seemed to
end...
When Virginia opened her eyes she had to wonder if she were still
dreaming. But while she might have mistaken the black cotton for
something else, the arc reactor poking through it was a dead
giveaway. The glow was mere inches from her nose, and as she came
awake she realized that her hand was resting on the warm rise of
Tony’s hip, and the fingers cupping the back of her neck must
therefore belong to him as well.
It was a deeply confusing
position to find herself in, except as far as she could remember
Virginia had fallen asleep on the couch, by herself. Which meant
she wasn’t responsible for the current situation. She tried
to be offended, but couldn’t quite manage it; instead, she felt
that weird pleasure again, mixed with a pulse of compassion.
However cheerful Tony was trying to be, the fact that he’d
repeated their sleep from the night before told her he was still in the
throes of the...well...need
was the only word that seemed to fit. The need to be near
her.
And while she supposed his sleeping with her was an invasion of her
privacy, she’d issued the invitation first. There was
nothing sexual in the way he was cuddling her; his embrace was more
protective than anything else.
Drawing in a breath, Pepper lifted her arm and rolled cautiously
back. Tony’s hand fell away, but he didn’t stir, and
she couldn’t help smiling a little at the sight of him unshaven
and relaxed. Of all the myriad ways she’d seen him over the
years, asleep was actually a
rarity.
She was stiff and sore, but a shower and a session with her toothbrush
left her feeling somewhat better. Virginia dried her hair quickly
and regarded herself sourly in the bathroom mirror. “I
still look like hell,” she muttered.
Her hair still bothered her, and she looked tired and stressed even
though it felt like she’d done nothing but sleep since her
return. But it’s better
than the alternative.
She applied a little eyeshadow and lipgloss. Normally she
didn’t bother with makeup when she was on sick leave, but she
felt the need for a little shoring up, and dressing up in work clothes
seemed silly as long as she wasn’t allowed to actually work.
“Jarvis,” she said out loud, setting down the tube of
gloss, “can you please start the coffee?”
“Of course,” the AI replied. “May I add,
Pepper, that it is good to have you back safely?”
The mellow voice was no more emotional than it ever was, but Virginia
had to smile, touched all the same. “Jarvis, it’s
good to be back.”
When she came out of the bathroom, Tony was sitting on the edge of the
bed, yawning and scratching his scalp. He looked up, and his
smile was slow and delighted. “How are you
feeling?”
“Sore,” Virginia said briefly, propping her hands on her
hips.
Tony held up both hands, the smile fading. “I was just
keeping an eye on you. That’s all it was, I swear.”
“I know.” Virginia sighed. “Tony...I
appreciate you putting me to bed, but no more joining me there.”
She half-expected a protest, or innuendo, but he nodded soberly.
“Okay. You can soak in the Jacuzzi, you know, or I can get
a masseuse in. Or both.”
“I’ll think about it.” The idea of the hot tub
didn’t appeal just post-shower, but Virginia imagined she’d
feel differently by afternoon.
Tony rose with one graceful motion, his face relaxing into a more
familiar cocky smile. “Good. First you need
breakfast.”
“Eat, sleep--you know, I am
capable of other things,” Virginia grumbled. Tony
snickered.
“You’re entitled to a little role-reversal. Suck it
up.” He scratched absently at the fabric covering his
abdomen. “Breakfast is on me, as soon as I grab a
shower.”
He strode towards her, leaned in, and planted a quick sound kiss on her
lips. “We still need to talk,” he said easily, and
vanished out the door, leaving her gaping.
Virginia shut her mouth and cast her gaze up at the ceiling. She
knew Tony would stop crossing that line if she told him to. But
underneath her surprise at his high-handedness was still that odd
pleasure. She had spent a great deal of her life alone; realizing
that Tony had missed her far more than any working relationship could
encompass was knowledge that left her both confused and
wondering.
I didn’t think he was
serious. But...maybe...
She was just pouring the first omelette into the pan when she heard
bare feet on the tile. “I said
I'd do it, Pepper," Tony said, sounding
exasperated.
Virginia didn’t turn, concentrating on her cooking.
“I'm hungry. Do you want toast, or would you rather have
cereal?”
His sigh was audible. "Toast. I'll make it."
Whether it was serendipity or his sense of timing, the last slices of
toast were ready the moment she dished up the second omelette.
When she turned from the stove, a plate in each hand, Virginia was a
little startled to see that Tony had set the table and even poured them
both juice as well as coffee--out of character for someone who usually
used a paper towel as a napkin. But she said nothing, sliding the
plates into place and taking her seat.
Tony passed her the butter silently, and she deduced that he was still
out of temper. She was used to his mercurial moods, and decided
to ignore his grump rather than cajole him out of it. Keeping her
own face pleasant, she dug into her breakfast; Tony could sulk better
than anyone she knew, but he couldn’t take silence for
long.
She’d made her way through half her omelette before he started
fidgeting. Finally Tony sighed again, and wadded up his napkin,
tossing it halfway across the little kitchen table. “Do you
want to go see the Franklins today?”
It wasn’t what she expected, and Virginia blinked, coffee mug
pausing on its way to her lips. She regarded her boss across the
table and realized, again, how desperately tired
he looked. Two nights of sleep hadn’t been enough, to judge
by the fatigue in his face; and with a pang she realized that the tiny
lines running back from his eyes were deeper than they had been a week
before.
“That would be good,” she said at last, lifting the cup the
rest of the way for a sip. “They’re bound to have
figured it out by now.”
He nodded, and glanced at his watch. “Give me a couple of
hours, I have a teleconference coming up.” She blinked, and
he grinned. “I’m not completely helpless, Potts.
Besides, it was scheduled a month ago.”
With that, he stood and strode out, whistling off-key.
Virginia shook her head, and finished her breakfast. Tony might
have set the table, she noted sardonically, but he certainly
hadn’t cleared it.
But tidying up after him was soothing in its familarity, and she took
her time over the task, wryly aware that once it was finished she had
nothing else to do until Tony was ready to leave. Unscheduled
free time was such a rarity that she didn’t quite know what to do
with it.
I’d read, but all my
books are at home.
And while Tony did have an actual library in one wing, most of it was
not to her taste; she’d never been a fan of military
history.
Virginia closed the dishwasher door and straightened. “I
could draw,” she said out loud, more to keep herself company than
anything else. “Or work on the chore list.”
She had a small folder of little tasks that she never seemed to find
time to do, given her overfull schedule; filing old papers and the
like. But she had a sneaking suspicion--
“Jarvis, what happens if I go into my office?” she
asked.
“I am instructed to observe you, and report to Mr. Stark if you
attempt to do anything related to your employment,” the AI
replied.
She grimaced. She was tempted to try it anyway, on the chance
that Tony would not take a non-urgent call from Jarvis while in the
middle of a video-conference. Hell,
I’m tempted to put tape over the cameras.
Her mouth quirked at the idea; would
Jarvis
report that, if she asked him not to? The AI’s boundaries
were often hard to determine, and Pepper couldn’t always predict
what he might do. But if Tony was working, she didn’t want
to discourage such behavior.
“Heck with it,” she said, half to Jarvis and half to
herself. “I’m going for a swim.”
She hadn’t packed a swimsuit, but Virginia actually kept one at
Tony’s house. It didn’t get much use, but every so
often she found the time to take a quick dip, either in Tony’s
pool or in the ocean--breaks he encouraged, and she didn’t think
it was just to get a glimpse of her in a tank suit.
You have to give him
credit. He may run you ragged, but he does his best to make up
for it.
She changed into the suit and applied sunscreen, and slipped out one of
the side doors to the pool. She really preferred the ocean, but
the scabs on her feet were sure to soften in the water, and she
didn’t want sand getting into them. Not to mention the salt would hurt like
crazy.
But the pool water was cool and silky against her skin--sterile
compared to her saving river, but clear and soothing and buoyant.
And, she discovered, her new haircut might be too short to braid, but
it could be swept out of her face much more easily than the strands
that used to float loose from whatever fastening she put on it before
swimming.
Virginia stroked back and forth lazily, slow laps, enjoying the
weightlessness the water provided and the chance to stretch without
having to take balance into consideration. Her feet in particular
appreciated the pool; the half-healed cuts stung for a moment but no
more, and she lost herself in the mindless bliss of movement. The
sun glittered on the water, glowed on the tiles; the scent of chlorine
filled her nose, and the only sounds were the waves she made and the
cry of a gull far overhead.
Finally she let herself drift to a stop. The idea of taking a
drink out on one of the elaborate inflatable lounges Tony kept for
guests was tempting, and she had no doubt that he would be happy if she
did, but to Virginia the idea seemed just a little too familiar. I’m not a guest...exactly.
There was no precise definition for what she was at the moment, besides
on leave.
She closed her eyes and floated, the sun hot on her face and the water
rocking her as gently as a lover, and declined to argue the point just
then.
She was halfway to dreaming when Jarvis spoke. “Ms. Potts,
Tony has just concluded his video-conference and wants to know when you
will be ready to go.”
It was strangely hard to leave her somnolence, but Virginia stroked
upright in the water and opened her eyes again. “Ten
minutes, Jarvis.”
“Very good.” As the last syllable fell, a hum reached
her ears, and she saw Dummy rolling around the corner of the
deck. The robot bore one of the hugely fluffy terrycloth
bathrobes that were another of Tony’s poolside perks, and she
sighed as she swam to the stairs at the shallow end, debating whether
it had been his idea or Jarvis’.
As she stepped back into her sandals and wiped her face dry with a
towel, Virginia drew breath to refuse the robe held open before her,
but for something with no face at all the ‘bot had perfected the
art of looking beseeching. So she sighed, and turned, and let the
deft claw settle the thick white wrap on her shoulders before she tied
it shut. The Stark Industries logo was embroidered on one breast,
white thread on white, and she wondered as she always did whether that
detail had been Tony’s idea or his father’s.
Or Obadiah’s. I
wouldn’t put it past him.
She was past master at the art of getting ready quickly. Within
ten minutes she had rinsed off, dressed, and reapplied makeup,
reflecting in passing that the shorter hair also dried faster.
She slipped her feet gingerly into flats and headed out to find
Tony.
The ride to the Franklins’ was as quiet as breakfast had
been. Tony found himself not knowing what to say, which was a
novelty and very uncomfortable; and Pepper, sitting at the other end of
the limo’s bench seat and looking absently out the window,
didn’t seem inclined to start a conversation.
So he watched her, taking note of every detail; the way her new haircut
tended to hide her face in profile, the tension in her body, the
pinkness of lingering sunburn across her cheekbones. She was
dressed somewhere between the formality of her work wardrobe and the
relaxed outfit she’d worn the day before--white pants and a
pullover blouse in blue-green silk suited her very well, and Tony was
glad he’d kept the button-down shirt and slacks he’d worn
for his teleconference. That way, they matched.
When Happy pulled the limo up in front of the Franklins’
townhouse, Tony saw a little girl out front, jumping rope on the
sidewalk. She was wearing a pink sparkly tutu, a ratty t-shirt,
and cowboy boots, but the moment she saw Pepper get out of the limo she
dropped the rope and rushed over. “Miss
Virginia!”
Her use of the name startled Tony, though he heard Pepper’s given
name often enough. The sight of Pepper bending to shake hands
with the kid shook him for some reason, and he hung back a step until
she straightened. “Dinah, this is my friend, Mr.
Stark.”
“I know!”
Dinah’s excitement was high-pitched, but not so shrill as to be
unbearable, and the beaming smile she turned on him had him smiling
back and offering a hand to be shaken as well. “We saw you
on TV! You were kidnapped!”
Pepper’s wince was so small that Tony almost missed it.
“Yes, I was, but lucky for me you guys rescued me.”
“Did they catch the bad guys? Were you scared? Mommy
says you were really brave. I think I’d be brave if someone
kidnapped me--” Dinah wasn’t allowing enough space
for replies, but as she spoke she took Pepper’s hand again and
tugged her towards the house. The look Pepper shot him was
eloquent, amusement and nervousness mixed, and he nodded to show
he’d follow her lead.
At the door, Pepper stopped and broke into the flow of chatter.
“Dinah, sweetie, we’ll wait outside until you tell your
parents we’re here, okay?”
The impatient look Dinah shot her made Tony snicker, but the child
obeyed, opening the door and bouncing inside without bothering to close
it behind her. “Hey! Everybody! Miss
Virginia’s here!”
“Is the other one like that too?” Tony asked, idly picking
up the discarded jumprope and coiling it neatly. “If so, I
pity them.”
Pepper’s lips twitched. “No, Helena’s much
quieter, but then she’s younger.” She gave him a
little grin. “Frankly, I’m surprised Dinah
doesn’t seem familiar.”
“Hey, I was never that--” Tony began, mildly insulted, but
before he could finish a woman appeared in the doorway, startlement and
politeness mingling on her face. He shifted at once to his public
mode, and gave her a disarming smile as Pepper stepped forward.
“Hello, Trish--I’m sorry to drop in on you uninvited, but I
wanted to stop by and say thank you.”
“We wanted to thank
you,” Tony corrected, pulling off his sunglasses and holding out
a hand. “Tony Stark.”
Mrs. Franklin’s handshake was automatic, and he could see the
rather stunned expression in her eyes. That, he was used to;
being a celebrity meant that so-called ordinary people often
didn’t know how to react to him. But she had
self-possession enough to invite them inside. “Um,
Mike’s out back, but I’ll call him right in--would you like
something to drink? I don’t know--”
Pepper took an extra step to catch up as Mrs. Franklin led them into a
cluttered living room that looked like a lot of living was done
there. “That sounds great. Trish, don’t worry
about it--” as the woman bent to swipe hastily at the toys and
papers littering the coffee table.
Dinah reappeared, towing a smaller girl. “This is Mister
Stark,” she said proudly to her sister, displaying Tony with a
broad gesture. “From the TV, remember? He’s
Miss Virginia’s boss and the Iron Guy and lots of other
stuff.”
The four-year-old had her thumb in her mouth and looked up at him with
big, wary eyes. Tony dropped into a crouch, and wiggled his
fingers in a wave. “Hi.”
Helena looked him over carefully, then removed the thumb.
“Hi,” she said softly.
With the air of one who had accomplished her mission, Dinah released
her sister and darted away in a flurry of tulle, boots clunking despite
the carpet. Helena immediately went over and attached herself to
her mother’s leg. Amused, Tony straightened.
Pepper appeared to have calmed Mrs. Franklin’s initial burst of
nerves with her usual skill, though Trish still looked
uncomfortable. “--wasn’t that big a deal,” she
was saying to Pepper. “You didn’t have
to...”
Pepper smiled, her professional people skills mixing with genuine
warmth. “Yes, I did. We did,” she corrected,
shooting a quick glance at Tony. “Consider it setting a
good example for your girls, if that helps.”
Mrs. Franklin laughed, a surprised sound.
“Touché. Well, sit down and I’ll get that
lemonade.”
She hurried out, hands still full and Helena trotting right behind, and
before either of them could choose a seat a slender man came in, wiping
his face with a ragged piece of cloth. “Wow. Dinah
was right, wow. Uh, hi, I’m Mike--”
There was another round of handshakes. Tony and Pepper both ended
up sitting on the couch, while Mike perched on the edge of a rocker
that looked like a well-loved heirloom. “Sorry, it’s
not every day we get celebrities visiting,” he said with a
laugh.
Pepper waved both hands. “Oh, I’m not--”
“Clearly she hasn’t seen the latest news,” Tony broke
in gently, shooting her a teasing glance. “Don’t
worry, Potts, it’ll all die down soon and you can go back to just
being the best PA in the northern hemisphere.”
Her muted glare was a reminder that he hadn’t let her do a press
release yet, but it served to relax Mike a little, and he laughed
again. “Earning your salary, huh?” he said to Pepper,
but the common phrase had the air of a private joke, and to
Tony’s surprise she smiled back.
“Always.”
They chatted for a few minutes about innocuous subjects, and Tony took
the time to observe the room. It was slightly shabby, but
welcoming, and the various framed pictures of the girls at different
ages made it clear that a family lived there. Tony was suddenly
reminded of the house he’d grown up in; it had been larger, and
kept ruthlessly tidy by a staff of at least four, but there had been
photos and toys and the same feeling of family. The memory made
his stomach feel hollow, and he pushed the sensation away, unwilling to
be distracted just then.
Then Dinah and Trish came in, the latter carrying a tray of glasses and
Dinah proudly bearing a large pitcher of lemonade. Trish poured,
and Dinah handed out the glasses, but before the girl could sit Trish
laid a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, Helena’s cup is
in the kitchen, can you give it to her and keep an eye on her while we
talk?”
Dinah pouted. “But I want to stay and see Miss
Virginia!”
Tony didn’t see why she couldn’t, but he wasn’t going
to get involved. Pepper smiled at Dinah. “I’ll
come and talk to you in a little bit, okay?”
Dinah heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Ohhhkay.”
Taking her glass, she dragged out of the room with an accusing look
back.
Mike chuckled. “Sorry. She tends to, well, dominate
the conversation.”
“I can understand that,” Pepper said with a grin, and Tony
nudged her knee with his own in retaliation, which made both the
Franklins laugh. They were quick, he saw with satisfaction.
“We don’t want to take up too much of your time,” he
said, figuring that the family had Saturday plans of some kind.
“But Pepper and I both owe you.”
Trish lifted both hands in a frustrated gesture. “We
didn’t do much. And anyway it was just the right thing, you
know?”
“Trish, before I found you someone passed me on the road,”
Pepper said quietly. “He, or maybe it was a she,
didn’t even slow down when I waved. If it hadn’t been
for you I might have been lost another day. Or more.”
Trish flushed, and closed her mouth. Mike reached over and
touched his wife’s knee. “We’re glad we could
help,” he said.
Tony nodded. “I could make a nice speech about how good
choices should be rewarded and so forth, but you’re not the
press.” He reached into his breast pocket for the check
he’d written earlier. “I put up a reward for
information. You brought Pepper home. You more than deserve
it.”
He leaned across the cluttered coffee table to give the check to Mike,
who took it slowly, as if he wanted to refuse. But Tony regarded
him steadily, putting all the force of his own will into the look, and
the paper slipped from his fingers to Mike’s.
The truth was, he couldn’t really repay them for rescuing
Pepper. There was no price tag for something like that. But
he could show his gratitude.
As if dazed, Mike unfolded the check, and his eyes widened. Trish
leaned over to look, and hiccuped faintly, hands flying up to cover her
mouth as if to keep back some exclamation.
“I...we...” Mike began.
Pepper shook her head. “Don’t bother. It takes
years of practice to win an argument with Tony Stark, and even then you
end up exhausted.” Her smile was just a touch wicked.
“You might as well give in now and save yourself the
trouble.”
Trish’s eyes were watering above her tight-clasped fingers, and
Tony gave her a grin. “I’d listen if I were
you. Ms. Potts gives excellent advice.”
The couple shared a long, speaking glance, and seemed to come to some
agreement, because Mike turned back to them. “...Thank
you,” he said, his voice a touch hoarse.
Tony shook his head. “Thank y--” he began, but a thump
and a rising wail of outrage cut him short.
“Mommy!”
Dinah called, sounding more impatient than frightened, and Trish sprang
to her feet.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice wavering slightly, and
hurried out of the room towards the howls. Mike chuckled
ruefully.
“Peace is never long-lived around here.” He still
held the check carefully, as if it were something fragile.
“Look on the bright side,” Pepper said cheerfully.
“She’s not blowing things up.”
Mike laughed outright, and Tony nudged her again, pretending irritation
but pleased at the lightening of the atmosphere.
“Mommy said I could come back in,” Dinah announced,
bouncing back into the living room. “Helena needs a nap.”
The pronouncement, laden with disgust, tickled Tony. As Dinah
advanced on the couch, Pepper scooted hastily over to the middle,
leaving space for the little girl on the end. Tony knew Pepper
was just moving to protect him from possible annoyance, a professional
duty, but he still took pleasure in the nearness of her body to
his.
There were no awkward pauses in the conversation with Dinah
participating. Mike managed to rein her in once or twice, but it
was clear that they were the sort of parents who encouraged interaction
from their children, and Tony found himself more amused and less bored
than he expected to be by Dinah’s questions and tangents.
After a few minutes Trish returned with her younger daughter in her
arms and resumed her seat in the recliner, Helena cuddling close and
sucking on her thumb.
Pepper managed to divert Dinah into a separate conversation, and Tony
talked with Trish about programming for a little while, before Pepper
glanced at her watch and said that they had to go. All the
Franklins saw them to the door; as Mike shook Tony’s hand, Tony
saw Pepper saying something to Trish that made the latter shake her
head, but Pepper persisted and finally Trish nodded.
“What was that about?” he asked when the limo had pulled
out of sight of Dinah’s last wave. “You and
Trish.”
Pepper smiled, rubbing ruefully at a smudge Dinah had left on her
slacks. “It was my thank-you, I set it up with my lawyer
last night.”
“And?” Tony prodded, curious.
“I set up college funds for both girls. With ten years at
least to mature, they should cover anything short of a
Ph.D.” Pepper gave up on the stain and sat back, looking
satisfied.
“Good choice.” He mirrored her, reasonably content
with the morning’s work. Half a million dollars could
disappear surprisingly rapidly, though the Franklins didn’t
strike him as careless; but college funds were highly practical.
Much like Pepper herself, in fact.
They were about halfway back to the house when he realized that her
expression had gone very bleak, and Tony didn’t think that the
view she was staring at out the window was causing it.
“What’s the matter?”
Pepper started a bit, hesitated, and then gave a tiny shrug.
“I was just wondering what would have happened to me if they had
turned me down,” she said quietly.
The mere thought made his chest ache. Tony searched for words,
but there didn’t seem to be any. It was his turn to
hesitate, but finally he slid over on the seat and put a cautious arm
around her shoulders.
Pepper sighed, and slowly relaxed against him. They stayed that
way, silent, until the limo rolled to a stop.
They had barely stepped over the threshold when Jarvis spoke
overhead. “Mr. Iemochi is calling, sir. The matter
appears to be urgent.”
Tony swore under his breath. “I’ll take it in the
den, Jarvis. Put it on video.”
He started towards the big dark room that was furnished to impress, but
Virginia stepped deftly in front of him, reaching up to straighten his
collar. “Are you sure you don’t want me taking
notes?” she asked quietly.
“Nice try, Potts, but no.” Tony snickered, holding
still as she tugged. “Jarvis can do it. Go have some
lunch or something.”
She repressed a sigh, foreseeing more boredom. “There are
at least three jackets in the hall closet that match this shirt.
Or--” She faltered, realizing that things could have
changed while she wasn’t there to keep an eye on them.
“--There were last week.”
If Tony sensed her discomfort, he didn’t show it.
“Great, thanks,” he said distractedly, moving past, his
mind clearly already on the call. She watched him go, wondering
with no small annoyance what crisis Stark Enterprises Nippon was
experiencing, and decided that at least she could make
sandwiches. And send them in
with Dummy, if I have to. They’ll like that.
She wasn’t sure if it was cultural or just engineering geekiness,
but the Tokyo board was fascinated by the ‘bots.
She was slicing bread when the thought occurred to her.
“Jarvis,” she said out loud, knowing that the AI could
handle any number of simultaneous conversations without trouble,
“can you pipe the audio in here?”
Jarvis’ hesitation was a programming affectation, she knew, but
it was quite effective. “That action does not fall under
Mr. Stark’s proscription, but I believe it is what is known as
violating the spirit of a law.”
Virginia smiled dryly, stacking the slices on two plates.
“Possibly. But I need to keep abreast of the
company’s status to be able to do my job effectively when I
return.” It was possible to out-logic Jarvis on occasion,
perhaps because his creator was not always logical himself.
“I don’t intend to take any action, Jarvis. I just
want the information.”
The AI didn’t reply, but a few seconds later the speakers
switched to the ongoing teleconference. She went on making lunch,
listening carefully and storing away details, frowning every so often
over an idiom she wasn’t familiar with. Tony’s rapid,
accented Japanese was easier for her to follow than the smoother
inflections of Mr. Iemochi and his people, but that was because
Virginia was used to her boss’ cadence. As always, she told
herself she really needed a refresher course, and as always was
reminded that she just didn’t have time.
Well, now you do.
It was a startling thought, but she filed it automatically away lest
she lose the thread of the conversation, and reached for the
mustard.
She had just finished the assembly when the ongoing discussion shifted
to how soon Tony could arrive in Tokyo. Without missing a beat
she put the sandwiches under a glass dome and hurried out of the
kitchen, heading for his room. Tony always kept a packed bag on
hand for emergency trips, but he'd need a few extras. And it's easier to ask forgiveness than
permission. Not that she intended to actually ask...
The teleconference ended a few minutes later, with Tony promising to
lift wheels as soon as possible. By then she had already called
Tony's pilot, found out from Happy that the freeway was jammed, and
arranged for a Stark Industries helicopter flight; she was just tucking
an extra undershirt into Tony's bag when he strode in.
"What do I have to do, tie you up?" he asked, sounding more distracted
than irritated. "Because I wouldn't mind, but it's a little kinky for
sick leave."
Virginia ignored that and zipped his suitcase shut. "You should
be cleared for take-off by the time you reach the airport," she told
him.
"And you," Tony addressed the
ceiling, starting on his shirt buttons. "I specifically told you--"
"Ms. Potts' logic was formidable," Jarvis began, but Tony
growled.
"We'll discuss it later. Remind me." He pulled off his
shirt and automatically shrugged into the fresh one Virginia was
holding open. "I don't know just what they've been doing to their
factory reactor to make it behave like
that, but hopefully it won't take too long to fix."
"Hopefully," she agreed, and went to choose him a tie as he
re-buttoned. They had this down to an art by now, a smooth dance
around one another, and within minutes he was ready to go. She
left him to carry his own bag and hurried ahead to the kitchen, only
limping slightly. "You can eat on the way," she called back over
her shoulder.
The mansion's helipad was at one end of Tony's property, a decent
distance from the house to keep the noise down. Tony insisted on
driving the quarter-mile, and she didn't argue; whether it was for
time's sake or that of her feet was not mentioned, and she was quietly
grateful to preserve both her dignity and her toes. Tony put the
little convertible's top down so they could see the sky, and shut off
the engine.
Virginia couldn't hear the beat of blades yet. She looked over at
Tony, whose expression was determined.
"Listen," her boss said, sounding grimmer than usual. "I want you
staying at the house while I'm gone. Happy will be living in
until I get back, and--"
"Wait just a minute," she interrupted, annoyed at his
high-handedness. "Tony, I can understand staying at your place, I
already agreed to that, but I don't need babysitting."
His brows snapped together in a glare, and she braced herself for
argument, but then he let out his breath in a puff. "It's not for
you, Pepper, it's for me."
He reached across the gearshift and took both her hands, his fingers
wrapping around hers in a grip that was almost too tight. "I know
the odds are low that the scumbag who took you will try to come back,
and the chances of him getting into my house are about nil, but I'm
going to worry anyway." The look he gave her was was worse than
angry; it was entreating, and went straight through her like a
lance. "Please, Pepper, for my peace of mind, please."
She couldn't deny him. Not when he'd asked her to spy for him,
and not now. "...All right."
Tony let out a long breath, though his tenseness didn't relax.
"Good. Thank you."
Over his shoulder Virginia saw movement; the sight of the small
helicopter popping up over a ridge reached her at the same time as the
sound of its rotors. "Here they come."
They both got out as the helicopter came in to land, Tony circling the
car to get his bag from the trunk and Virginia scooping up the lunch
she'd packed for him. There would be food on the plane, of
course, but the sandwiches were already made.
The chopper's wind stirred her hair to a frenzy and made Tony's tie
look like it was trying to escape. As the machine settled into
place, Tony turned to her, one hand cupping her shoulder. "You'll
be okay?" he shouted over the noise.
"I'll be fine," she assured
him. "Be safe, Tony."
His mouth quirked at the admonishment, but he said nothing more, just
squeezing her shoulder before stepping briskly away to toss his
suitcase into the helicopter and climb in after it. Virginia
retreated to the car to leave the field clear, and watched the chopper
lift away, keeping her eyes fixed on the face that watched her from the
cockpit until it was too far to make out.
It took her mere moments to drive back to the house, but when she came
up from the garage she heard movement in the east wing corridor, and
found Happy just closing the door to the guest suite across the hall
from hers. He gave her a solemn nod. "You need anything,
just ask."
Virginia was touched by his care, but she had no intention of allowing
Happy to treat her like an invalid. With that concussion, I'm probably in
better shape than he is.
Not that she planned to mention it.
"Sure," she said dryly, giving him a smile. "You can carry in the
popcorn for movie night."
Happy snickered, his gravity easing, though she knew he would take his
bodyguard detail seriously. "Please tell me we're not picking
from the boss' collection."
"Oh, please." She wrinkled her nose. "Jarvis, you can
access my Netflix account, can't you?"
"With pleasure," the AI said. "Do you wish to watch something
now?"
"Let's at least wait until sunset," Virginia said, feeling a twinge of
guilt. Though what I'm supposed
to do without any work to do-- She looked at Happy,
feeling at a loss.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did you have lunch
already?"
They managed to make lunch last almost an hour, but cleanup was
depressingly short, and afterwards they regarded each other with a
certain helplessness. Virginia wasn't used to being idle; and
while Happy did get periods of downtime, they were usually spent in his
little cottage at the gate. Finally she threw up her hands.
"This is ridiculous. What do normal people do when they have time
off?"
Happy scratched his head. "Well, usually when he's out of town I
give the cars a wash, but..." He gestured awkwardly at her,
though whether he was thinking of her sore feet or just uncomfortable
with the idea of the boss' immaculate assistant helping him with such a
messy job was unclear.
But the idea appealed. Virginia might have spent two days in the
wilderness, but she'd spent three before that cooped up in a dank
little room, and fresh air sounded very good indeed. "Great
idea." She turned for the deck. "I'll grab a chair and come
keep you company."
Happy insisted on carrying the chair, along with the big thermos of
iced tea, but she held onto her sketchbook and her sun hat. He
settled her next to the back driveway turrnaround and brought out the
limo to start with, looking odd to her eyes in shorts and a t-shirt as
he set up soap and wax and the hose. But he was fun to sketch,
and they chatted easily, wandering among topics as diverse as
automobile maintenance and Greek philosophy.
She'd always been comfortable with Happy, Virginia reflected as she
drew. They'd started with mutual respect when she'd been hired as
Tony's PA, and that had deepened into the sort of casual friendship
shared by colleagues, along with a good-humored conspiracy when it came
to thwarting some of Tony's wilder foibles--or just getting him the
rest he so often needed.
When Tony had been kidnapped, they'd waited together. Obie had
been off running the company, and Rhodey trying to find Tony, but she
and Happy had been left behind to hold the metaphorical fort. And
hold it they had, offering each other the same silent sympathy, the
same stubborn refusal to give up hope.
And when he'd been found-- She smiled, remembering. A joy shared is a joy doubled, they say.
Theirs had been more exponential than that, a fountain of grins and
hugs and scarce-admitted tears, triumphing in their impossible,
pain-in-the-ass, deeply missed boss coming back to them at last.
Happy had expressed no opinion on Iron Man; Virginia had the sneaking
suspicion that the bodyguard didn't approve, but that the man was
quietly enamored of the armor. Of course, if she weren't so
worried about Tony risking his neck every time he flew, she might have
to admit to a bit of admiration herself; after all, she had long been a
fan of sleek, high-speed metal.
But the price that came with the suit weighed too heavily against it,
and she'd merely tightened her lips and worried.
She let her pencil wander idly; it sketched an outline of one of the
suit's gauntlets, smoothly articulated fingers cradling power.
And then she stared at it, wondering when she'd noticed.
"Your arms are getting red," Happy observed, pausing in his polishing,
and she shook off her reverie and reached for the sunscreen.
They ended up ordering in a disgustingly overloaded pizza, and watched
two Westerns in a row in the library, which had an ordinary TV screen
hanging on the wall; it felt too weird in the living room without Tony
there as well. Afterwards Happy retreated to his chosen suite,
once more reminding her that he was within earshot if she needed him,
and Virginia just smiled back. As far as she knew, there was no
way to enter Tony Stark’s house without attracting Jarvis’
notice; Happy’s presence really was
for Tony’s sake. And, it occurred to her belatedly,
possibly for Happy’s sake as well.
Despite the exercise and the sun and the lateness of the hour, Virginia
found that she couldn’t sleep. She lay curled up in the big
bed, eyes open in the darkness, the house silent around her; it seemed
far emptier without its master, as if something essential were
gone. She frowned to herself, wondering why it mattered;
she’d spent time alone in the house before, when he was off on a
mission, but it had never felt so lonely. Even the knowledge of
Happy across the hall was not enough to stir the hollow feeling.
Finally she gave up, climbing out of bed and pulling off the comforter,
and padding across the carpet to open the balcony door.
She’d chosen a room above Tony’s big bedroom, one that
overlooked the ocean; the breeze that came off it ruffled her short
hair and filled the room with the scent of salt.
There was a pair of chairs here, placed for the best view, and as her
eyes adjusted she could make out the darkness of the ocean and the
star-spattered expanse of sky, though without the moon there were no
details. She sat down in one of the chairs, wrapping the
comforter around her and making note of the slightly musty smell of the
furniture; the guest rooms weren’t often used, and apparently she
needed to be more proactive in scheduling them for upkeep.
The stars were splendid. One of the blessings of Tony’s
location was the lack of ambient light; on the other side of the house
one could see the glow from Malibu, but on the ocean side it was
imperceptible on a clear night. Virginia tilted her head back and
watched them.
Somewhere in the back of her mind was the stale smell of an enclosed
room, and the mutter of voices through a metal duct. There was
the cruel pull as a knife sawed off her hair, and the sick feeling of a
drug hangover. There was utter helplessness, and terror, and a
burning anger.
She didn’t want to think about it. Virginia let her mind
skid away from the memories, and kept her thoughts circling around
mundanities like the seat cushions, and Tony’s wardrobe, and the
quarterly billing cycle.
When sleep came, it was uneasy and shallow, but at least the memories
were banished for a while.
The Tokyo reactor was in what Tony’s mother would have referred
to as a “right state”, but it wasn’t beyond
saving. Tony went straight to the plant as soon as his plane
touched down, despite the early-morning hour; it was very difficult to
make an arc reactor actually blow up unless one knew exactly what to
do, but they did take a tremendous amount of power to restart, and he
didn’t want the thing to go into shut-down mode if it could be
avoided. Plus the extended
loss of power to the factories--
They had backup generators, of course, but those cost money to run and
weren’t nearly as clean or efficient as the reactor. Tony
and the plant’s engineers went to work right away in a flurry of
blueprints and power readouts as he tried to figure out exactly what
had been done to the thing to make it behave so oddly.
But underneath the equations and the babble of High Engineering was
always Pepper. Tony kept her in the back of his thoughts, wrapped
in a concern that hovered on the brink of worry. She seemed to be
doing well, but there was a tension in her that hadn’t
dissipated, and he wondered how long she was going to pretend that her
abduction hadn’t affected her.
Kettle calling Potts,
he thought absently, debating energy fluctuations with two engineers
and a tech. It’s not like
you went right out and talked to a shrink either.
And he’d been through a lot more than he suspected Pepper had,
though certainly that didn’t make her experience any less
harrowing.
But he’d found his own form of therapy, in a way, and he’d
never ignored
those three months. Pepper’s eagerness to dive right back
into work as if nothing had happened made him deeply uneasy.
Eventually they had the reactor stabilized. Tony told his driver
to take him to the Stark penthouse, and watched dawn come up over the
city from its cool, luxurious sterility, sipping at a Scotch and
wondering what Pepper was doing just then.
Probably griping that she's
bored.
The corner of his mouth turned up in tired amusement. He'd met
others who enjoyed overwork the way she did, but they were usually
lab-bound scientists, too busy with research to look around.
Pepper did as much work as any and managed to maintain a life as well,
or at least the appearance of one.
Tony leaned back in the recliner and crossed his legs, savoring the
alcohol as it slid over his tongue and trying to relax enough to
sleep. He'd placed a quick call after the video-conference, and
the memory of Hogan's voice slid through his mind. Sir, I'm not--I--I failed.
He'd never associated nobility with Happy, but that didn't
matter. We've been over
this. Loss to a superior force isn't failure, and I need you to
keep an eye on her. For Tony's own sanity, but he didn't
mention that.
For a long moment the connection had been silent, and then there were
just two low words. All right.
But in them was a strength that had been missing from Happy's voice
ever since Pepper had been taken, and that was enough to satisfy Tony.
He wanted to call her, just to listen to her voice. But while
there had been times in the past when he'd asked for a bedtime
story--and even a few when she'd indulged him--Tony didn't want to
disturb her right then. He had a fairly strong feeling that his
behavior toward Pepper since her return was an additional stressor; she
could probably use a day or two without having to deal with him.
I can't help it.
The wistful hunger he'd carried for so long had strengthened with the
possibility of loss; something in him needed
to touch her every so often, to hear her voice and to know that she was
safe.
Whether his attentions were welcome or not was an unanswered question;
she hadn't told him to back off, anyway, and Tony took hope from
that. If she told him to stop, he would, as much as it would
hurt.
Please don't, Pepper.
In the end he called up an old voice mail, Pepper calmly reading out a
long list of instructions and reminders, and set it to loop at a low
volume. He fell asleep to a gently stern lecture on the
importance of legible signatures.
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