Fandom: Iron Man (movieverse) Rating: R Pairing: Tony/Pepper Summary: It's Pepper who's hurt, but it's Tony who needs the comfort...   Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them.  All others are mine, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first.  No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit.  Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.    Banner, and editing, and support, and general cheering on all by Cincoflex, who put up with angst and whining and distraction and saw this one through.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!   Note:  Steve Abshire is a real musician, and an excellent one.  If you like jazz, check him out.       ********* The house was too damned empty.    Tony wandered morosely around the mansion, too restless to settle anywhere.  Pepper had been moved out for a week, and the place was echoing and lonely without her.  He hated it.    He’d seen her new apartment exactly twice, and it had only depressed him further.  It was big and lovely and fitted her exactly.  Her furniture had been delivered safely, and she’d bought all the little essentials necessary to life.  Her bruises were gone entirely and she had a clean bill of health from her doctor despite the memory loss.    Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able cite his own desperation as a legitimate reason for her to stay with him.    Tony had done his best to behave.  Pepper had even let him take her out to dinner once, completely separate from work.  He wasn’t sure it counted as a date, since all she did was kiss him on the cheek, but he wasn’t going to complain.  Not after the hope she’d given him the day she’d left.    Or, for that matter, after the Perrier he’d found in her fridge, five bottles.  Pepper hated the stuff, but she knew he loved it...   Of course, she also spent at least three evenings a week at the mansion finishing things up, but that was par for the course for her job, and Tony was careful not to make more of that than it seemed.  It was enough that she was willing to eventually kick off her shoes and joke with him, and make him eat whatever she ordered in.    He had planned one evening where he would shut off her computer and prepare dinner for them both himself, but a mission had gotten in the way...though finding Pepper waiting for him when he’d gotten back at last had been wonderful even if he wasn’t injured enough to need much care.    Still, she wasn’t there, and it was making him miserable.  Tony prowled into the master bedroom.  Their bed was still neatly made, the sheets fresh--Severin changed them every week whether someone slept there or not.  But her share of the drawers was empty now and her side of the closet bare.  All that was left was the shoe rack.   Tony took himself out of that depressing space and found his way to her home office.  This at least looked more normal, and he poked around a little, sparing a breath of dry laughter when he found the paper clips in the second drawer down on the left.    The three big white archival boxes stacked in the closet, he hadn’t seen before.  Not even bothering to try to resist, Tony took the lid off the top one and peered inside.    Notebooks, the fancy kind sold in bookstores--hard covers bound in various patterns and fabrics.  Curious, he pulled one out and flipped it open at random.    The pages were filled with Pepper’s neat script, each section dated.  Tony turned back to the first page; the entry there was labeled January 2, 2008.    It didn’t take him long to figure out that the books were her personal diaries.  He vaguely knew that she kept one, he’d seen her writing in it from time to time after she’d moved in, but it wasn’t something he’d asked about.  Tony paged through the volume he held, curiosity far surpassing any sense of invading her privacy.  And it was fascinating to see himself through her eyes, though half the time she was complaining about him in one fashion or another.  This was Pepper before they’d become lovers, before he’d been kidnapped--and he was surprised to see how much of her life seemed to be taken up with him in one way or another.    Surprised, and both guilty and pleased...    Tony skimmed through the volume, skipping entries that didn’t interest him for one reason or another, lingering over others.  The book only covered two months, and when he was done with it Tony replaced it.    Hesitated--    Then reached for another.    Three hours later he was sitting on the floor outside the closet in a semicircle of piled notebooks, and one box was empty and the next only half-full.  The volumes had been packed according to size rather than date, so every time he dipped in for another one Tony didn’t know what month or year it would reveal.  It was a strange and somewhat painful exercise; he was learning more about Pepper with every page, and yet she was further from him now than ever before.  He was so absorbed that he hadn’t even thought about what she might do if she found out he’d gone through her private journals--    I’m in love with my boss.    The simple words froze him.  For a moment Tony simply stared at the line sitting at the bottom of the page, and then his eyes went back to check the date of this little revelation.    June 5th, 2005.    Tony became aware that he was panting, that his chest was aching with a sharp pain.  June fifth.  June fifth June fifth--    Jarvis’ words were echoing in his ears.  The loss of memory sometimes extends to a particular traumatic event in the sufferer’s past.    Pepper’s subconscious had erased her memory clear back to the day before she’d realized she was in love with him.    He’d thought he’d known what it felt to have his heart break, both figuratively and literally.  But this pain was worse.  Loving me is so traumatic that her own brain made her forget it.    Tony stood, feeling as though his brain were numbing down towards shutoff, and walked blindly out of Pepper’s office, straight to the liquor cabinet in the dining room.  The big room was free of dust thanks to Severin’s attentions, but it felt chilly and empty; but Tony ignored the sensations.    It wasn’t until he had the glass out that he realized he still had Pepper’s diary clenched in his hand.    Tony gazed at the notebook with dull eyes, and shrugged.  Fuck it.  Ignoring the glass, he picked up the unopened bottle of scotch and retreated.          It was a quiet evening, and that suited Pepper just fine.    She had Steve Abshire on the stereo, a glass of wine, and workout clothes worn to softness, and she was breaking in her new armchair, which was large enough for her to curl up in.  It had been a long week and a longer Friday, and it felt good to just sit and relax and think of nothing more complex than the mystery within the pages of her paperback.    So, of course, the phone rang.    She almost let it go to voice mail.  But her conscience stepped in and made her lean over and pick up the handset, though it didn’t keep her from brusqueness.  “Yes?”    “Pepper, your presence is required at the house.”    She hadn’t been expecting Jarvis’ voice; she didn’t remember ever getting a phone call from him before, though probably she had.  Pepper sighed and glanced wistfully towards her glass.  “What’s he up to now?  Another mission?”    “No.  Tony’s vital signs indicate that he is asleep or unconscious, but he was highly agitated during the last hour.”    Pepper sat up straight, absently dropping her book onto the table next to her seat.  “Why?  What’s happened?”    “I am not certain.”  Jarvis sounded concerned.  “He forbade me to call anyone, but I am instituting an emergency override given his current condition.”    She was already rising, concern swelling towards fear.  I’ve only had half a glass of wine, I’m good to drive.  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”    As she drove to the mansion, Pepper reviewed the situation.  Rhodes was out of town and Happy had taken three days off to attend his niece’s wedding, so she was on her own.  She bit her lip in the strobing darkness of the highway, wondering what had happened to upset Tony.    The house was quiet and dark when she stepped inside.  “Jarvis, where is he?”    “Tony is in his workshop,” the AI answered.  “His condition is unchanged.”    The garage lights were dim when she walked down the stairs, which was peculiar, but Pepper could make out the glow of Tony’s arc implant--he was lying on the battered couch, apparently face-up.  “Tony?”    There was no answer.  But before she made it halfway there, Pepper could smell the alcohol, and it made her stomach twist.  She’d never liked his drinking, but she hadn’t seen him have more than one drink of anything at a time since she’d come back from the hospital.  Her instincts were shouting that something was very wrong.    As she neared the motionless figure, Pepper could see two bottles on the floor.  One was empty; the other was on its side in a puddle of what seemed to be vodka, with more alcohol on the outside than there was left inside.  What happened?    The first thing that came to mind was that something had happened to Rhodes.  Beginning to be frightened, Pepper approached the couch and reached down to shake Tony’s shoulder.  “Tony!”    His hands twitched and his eyes opened, barely perceptible in the dark.  “Potts,” came the slurring voice, dull and low.    “Are you all right?” Pepper asked, worried.  “Jarvis, give us half-light.”    The overhead illumination brightened enough for her to make out details, though Tony winced.  He looked appalling--eyes bloodshot, mouth a hard line despite his intoxication.  And there was something terribly wrong, she could feel it even if she had no idea what it was.    When their gazes met, he rolled his head away, as though her stare hurt him.  “Tony, what’s the matter?”    He shook his head the tiniest bit.  “Go ‘way.”    Pepper knelt down next to the couch.  “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”  She steeled herself for tragedy, disaster, heartbreak--she couldn’t remember ever seeing him quite like this.  “Did something happen to Jimmy?”    His cough might be interpreted as humor, if one were feeling generous.  “Nah.”  His hand lifted, gestured vaguely.  “’S you.”    Pepper cocked her head.  Me?  Just how drunk is he?  “I’m fine, Tony.”    He muttered something she couldn’t make out, though it sounded like “conscience”.  Relieved that it wasn’t anything she’d imagined, but still worried, Pepper reached out to capture that restless hand in hers.    As soon as her fingers folded around his, though, Tony pulled away with a strength that his drunkenness belied.  “No.”    Surprised and a little hurt, Pepper firmed her lips and her voice.  “Mr. Stark.  What is going on?”    He struggled up until his head was leaning against the arm of the couch and turned a hard stare on her.  “You.  I’m wrong.”    Pepper shook her head.  “Tony, you’re not making any sense.”    “I’m wrong.”  He managed a point at her.  “For you.”  A little clarity seemed to come back to him.  “You forgot me.”    She sat back on her heels and tried to interpret.  “I didn’t forget you.  I just forgot some time.”    “Yes you did.”  Tony hiccupped softly and looked away again.  “I’m wrong.  ‘M bad for you.  You should...you should go away.”    Pepper had seen Tony drunk many times, and extremely drunk more often than she cared to think about, but he was rarely incoherent, and certainly never tried to make her leave.  What triggered this?  She’d read enough of her own notes to know that his drinking had slacked off considerably ever since he’d gotten back from Afghanistan, so logic indicated that something had to have sent him on this binge.    “What happened tonight?” she asked him, probing.    Tony shrugged one shoulder.  “I found out.  June fi...fifff.  Fifth.”    Pepper frowned.  The date didn’t bring anything immediately to mind, though she was sourly aware that the most recent of those dates were still missing from her recall.  “Jarvis?  What was Tony doing earlier?”    The AI’s response was grave.  “He was looking through the boxes in your office closet.”    It took her a minute to remember which boxes--she’d forgotten to move them to her new apartment.  My diaries?    Tony was looking at her again, and his eyes were filled with a despairing pain she’d never seen before.  It tore at her heart, made her breath come hard.  With a sudden energy, he reached up, grabbing her shoulders.  Pepper froze in shock as he pulled her down, and his mouth landed on hers in a strange hard kiss.    He tasted of salt and vodka, and the clumsy clash of teeth made her head pound and a peculiar ache spring up in the middle of her chest.  Pepper didn’t fight the kiss, too stunned and dizzy to even move.    Tony pulled back, his hands falling away.  “You shouldn’t love me,” he said quietly, the words quite clear, and with that he passed out, slumping back down to the couch.    Pepper’s ears were ringing, louder and louder.  Salt on her lips, desperation, pressure--her chest hurt.  She tried to push to her feet, but only succeeded in sliding backward, her vision fading as her world turned upside down again.    All the memories she’d regained so far had been slipped under the door of her amnesia.  But now a key turned, and the door swung wide, and the tide rose up around her, a flashing, living, noisy kaleidoscope of impressions, voices, scents and tastes, events, joy and sorrow and simple solid facts.  Pepper collapsed to the cold floor of the garage, curling up tight and clutching her head with both hands as it threatened to split open under a rush her consciousness was never intended to handle.    It went on and on, all the missing bits piling up and slotting into place, filling the empty places to bursting.  Oh oh oh--  So much was becoming clear, but she didn’t have time to process it, more memories kept coming, and coming--    Blistering sunburn doctor’s appointments grocery shopping Tony’s stunned look when she told him she loved him surfing playing tag with Butterfingers new computer office renovations bad cold Tony’s broken wrist fire in the hills board meetings charity balls dancing with Tony in a tux making love on the terrace empty mansion Obadiah smiling Happy’s vacation arguing with Tony Jimmy teasing her tasting watermelon making stir-fry resting in Tony’s embrace meeting Fury driving walking running sand beneath her shoes--   Turning in her apartment keys and Tony’s arm slipping around her waist as she left the building for the last time.    Shaking hands with the tall woman who had succeeded Obadiah as Stark Industries’ CFO.    The nondescript little man rising from his seat, and her surge of relief at seeing him, knowing that Stane would not dare harm her in front of him.  “Your office.  Right now--”    Waiting in the sun as Tony refused a wheelchair and walked out of the plane on Rhodes’ arm, and biting back her tears of joy.    A crowded balcony, beautiful drunk people all around her and fireworks exploding in the sky, and seeing one stream of sparks that faded with distance rather than brevity, and not knowing whether to be proud or angry.    Wobbling in the air above the assembly platform, power in her palms and under her soles, Tony whooping below and shouting encouragement as he taught her how to fly--     Somehow she managed not to lose her grip, and eventually the cascade sank to a trickle, then ceased.  For a long while Pepper held still, trying to assimilate what she’d regained, trying to steady her breathing.  Her mouth tasted of iron where she’d bitten her lip.  The influx was dizzying to the point of madness, almost, but the ringing was gone, leaving a blessed silence in its wake.    Her head still ached a little, and it felt too big, but the missing pieces were back.  It was an incredible relief to feel whole again.    “Ms. Potts?” Jarvis asked softly.  “Are you well?  Your vital signs have become quite unstable.”    Pepper took a deep breath and uncurled, lying stunned against the cold concrete.  “I...I’m okay, Jarvis.”  Her voice sounded normal, and that surprised her.  “I seem to have...to have regained my memory.”    “Congratulations,” the AI said, sounding pleased.  “I hope you will allow me to document your progress for further study.”    Pepper bit back a groan and managed to sit up.  “Ask me tomorrow,” she muttered, her eyes fixed on the beloved form of Tony limp on the couch.  Dear God.  What has he been going through?    It was a rhetorical question, since she could pretty much figure it out from what she remembered of the past two months, and Pepper felt a surge of guilt even though she knew it wasn’t her fault.  “Tony--”    He didn’t move.  Pepper sagged against the sofa, shuddering; the concrete had chilled her, and she felt drained dry and dizzy.  His greatest fear is that those he loves will leave him.  And that’s exactly what I did.    She wanted his arms around her so badly that it hurt, an actual physical pain, but Tony was beyond responding at the moment.    “What the hell happened?” she whispered.  “Jarvis, what’s the significance of June fifth?”    “I do not know,” the AI replied.  “But the reason may lie in the notebook he was reading just prior to his drinking.”    Pepper didn’t bother wondering why Tony had been into her diaries; the man was as curious as a cat and had about as much self-restraint.  She looked around, and after a moment spotted the book wedged between his side and the back of the couch.  Leaning over his motionless form, she pulled it free and paged through it to the relevant date.    It only took a moment to read what she’d written there, and a moment more to work out the conclusion Tony must have drawn.  Oh.    Wearily Pepper closed the diary and leaned her head against his hip, and when she started to choke she covered her face with her hands.  Her weeping was for herself, for Tony, for the incredible mess they’d managed to create.  For the fact that all she wanted right then was his comfort.    She was so tired.    Her sobs didn’t last long, but when she was calm Pepper was almost too exhausted to move.  Letting out a breath, she scrubbed her face dry with her sleeve, and contemplated standing.  It was going to take more energy than she thought she had.      But the couch was wide.    “Jarvis,” she managed, “don’t let anyone disturb us short of an emergency.”  With an effort, Pepper slid onto the sofa and draped herself over Tony, shivering anew as his heat soaked into her.  The arc reactor was a comforting pressure against her chest, and Tony muttered something and shifted, one arm coming up to wrap around her waist.    Pepper sighed, worked a hand underneath him and draped the other over his shoulder, and just held him.          Something was right.    Tony didn’t know yet just what it was, but then he wasn’t too eager to wake, either.  He let himself drift just short of focused consciousness, because it was a feeling that had been missing for a long time and he didn’t want to lose it when he opened his eyes.    But sleep ebbed away despite his best efforts, and things came into focus.  The smell of alcohol, the lumpiness of the couch...the warm weight snuggled up next to him...    Okay, I’m dreaming.  Because the other scent in his nostrils was Pepper’s own sweet vanilla-and-woman, and he knew that the last thing she would do right now was sleep in his arms.  Well, one of the last things.    But his head ached and his mouth was dry, and her chin was digging into his chest, and really it felt far too real to be a dream.  What the hell did I do?    Alcohol didn’t normally make him forget, any more than it usually gave him a hangover; his tolerance was far too high.  But last night was something of a blur all the same.  How much did I drink?    And what did I do?    Tony tensed.  Had he pushed her too far in his inebriated state?  No, that didn’t make sense, she wouldn’t still be there.    And then the memory came clear.  June 5th, 2005.    The pain made him want to shove her away and run.  He opened his eyes slowly.    Pepper lay between him and the back of the couch, her face half-obscured by a tousled mop of strawberry hair.  One of her arms lay over his side, and the other was folded against his chest; and, Tony realized, his own arms were holding her close to him.  He didn’t move for a long while, wondering dimly why she was there, but mostly caught up in the agony of knowing that he was going to have to let her go.    If you don’t do it soon, you won’t be able to.    Slowly Tony began to ease back, trying to slip his arm out from under Pepper without waking her. She had always been a light sleeper, however, and she stirred and sighed, rubbing her forehead against his chest.    Tony froze, hoping that she would fall back to sleep, but instead Pepper’s eyes opened, and she peered up at him through the tangles of her hair.  The smile that spread over her face made his heart spasm with yearning, and automatically he lifted his free hand to brush the hair from her eyes.  “Pepper--”    With simple grace she leaned forward and kissed him.  Tony jerked, but the touch of her lips was too much, and he moaned and kissed her back, his body and his starving heart overwhelming his guilt.  She was warm and eager and familiar and so right, and he wanted to devour her right then and there--    No.    He tore his mouth from hers, feeling the separation as if she were truly part of his own flesh.  “Stop,” he gasped.  “Pepper, you--I can’t.”    Her brows went up, and Tony braced one hand on the back of the couch, pushing up and away before his body could betray him again.  He staggered back, head spinning with the sudden movement, and found his balance with an effort.    Pepper blinked at him, propping herself up on one elbow.  “Tony--”    “No.”  He spun around so he wouldn’t have to look at her.  She couldn’t understand, how could she understand, he didn’t know how to explain--she’d finally trusted him with herself and he couldn’t--Pepper--    Those strong, fine-boned hands--he’d always loved her hands--slid around his ribs and up his chest, and Pepper leaned into him from behind, a sweet weight that had him clenching his fists and holding very still.  “Stop it, Stark,” she said, low and patient and bafflingly amused.  “I know what you’re thinking and it just doesn’t apply.”    He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, not understanding her words.  “I’m wrong.  Pepper, you lost four years because of me.”    “Bullshit.”  Her tone was suddenly crisp.  “Tony, I got my memory back.  I remember now.”  Her arms tightened at his start of surprise.  “And it came back because of you.”    He felt her lips press against the nape of his neck in a brief caress.  “I love you, you idiot.  No matter what.  And if you think for one second that I’m going to give you up now--”    The room swam back into focus.  Tony covered her hands with his, then turned in her embrace.  Pepper’s eyes were clear, the doubt gone, and her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.    Oh.    He didn’t even bother wondering how she knew.  If he’d been the noble type, Tony thought briefly, he might have argued, but he was a selfish SOB and always would be.  He touched her face with trembling fingers, felt the velvet of her skin, and gave her that long-waiting kiss--drunk-breath, morals, and amnesia be damned.    Pepper purred against his mouth, and Tony wrapped her up in his arms, tight, tighter.  His throat swelled, and he shifted to press his face into her hair, choking on a sob as the anguish drained away and joy rose to fill its place.  Pepper hugged him close, easing him through the spasm, and he felt the rip in his heart healing at last.    “I love you.  I love you,” he muttered.  “Pepper...”    She laughed, the sound a pure echo of his bliss.  Tony bent and scooped her up, heading automatically for the elevator.  Pepper relaxed against him, her hand resting over his arc implant, and kissed the hollow of his throat.  He shuddered at the touch.      Tony stepped into the car, and Pepper reached over to punch the right button.   As soon as it lit, he pulled her close in again, unbearably hungry for the feel of her.  Pepper let her hand slide up around his neck, and Tony clutched her until she squeaked and laughed again.  “Sorry,” he muttered into the crown of her head.    “Shut up,” she murmured fondly, and he shivered as he felt her fingers slide into his hair.    There was so much he wanted to say to her, questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t seem to organize the words.  Instead, he carried Pepper out of the elevator and to their room, and sat down on their bed, still holding her tightly.    She smiled at him, and squirmed around until she was straddling his lap, and kissed him with great concentration.  Tony filled his hands with her hair and her skin, kissing her hard, taking her mouth as an offering and a desperately desired prize.  He felt as though he could never get enough of her, taste or smell or sweet sensation--    He was trembling again, and Pepper let his mouth go and stroked his hair back from his forehead.  “I love you,” she repeated, and pushed him gently down to the mattress.  Tony looked up at her leaning over him, his Pepper healed and whole and knowing him once more, and pulled her down to him.    He took his time proving his love to her, and every second was joy, because she was real.  Because she knew him.    Because she loved him back.                It seemed incredible, afterwards, that she could have forgotten so much, and Pepper had to struggle to push away the guilt.  It wasn’t your fault, she reminded herself, feeling Tony’s warm breath where his head lay on her breast.  And it wasn’t his either.  Though she had the feeling it would take a lot of work to get him to stop thinking that it was.    “I don’t know why my brain picked that date,” she repeated, rubbing small circles on his bare shoulder.  He had one arm beneath her hips, but his free hand moved over her skin slowly, reverently, as he tried to appease his hunger.  “Seriously, Tony, it wasn’t traumatic.”    He turned his head to look at her.  The return of her memory had released his long strain, but the effects lingered in the corners of his eyes and mouth, and Pepper let her fingers smooth over his temple.  Tony sighed at the touch, but the quirk of his lips held doubt.    “Four years is a long time, Pepper.  Jarvis said--“    “Jarvis doesn’t know everything,” Pepper interrupted gently.  “Did you even read the rest of the entry?”    Tony blinked.  “No...”    “Let me up.”  She wriggled, and after a moment Tony rolled off and let her sit up.  Pepper kissed him lightly and slid out of bed, going to the closet for his robe and wrapping it around herself.  “I’ll be right back.”    She half-thought he would follow her, but he managed to stay put as she walked out of the room.  Pepper padded down the stairs to the chilly workshop, luxuriating in the smell of Tony embedded in the robe and wondering if she could talk him into a mutual shower--or better yet, a bath.  “What time is it, Jarvis?” she asked, bending to pick up the diary from where she’d let it fall.    “It is 2:06 A.M.,” Jarvis replied.  “Your vital signs are in much better order, Pepper.”    “I’m not surprised.”  Pepper grinned to herself.  She was still tired, and her head felt a little strange, but none of that mattered in light of regaining her memories.  “Maintain current privacy level, Jarvis.  And don’t disturb us unless you have to.”    “Acknowledged.”  The AI’s tone hinted at contentment, but Pepper didn’t stop to wonder at it.  If she didn’t get back upstairs soon, Tony would come looking for her, and she wanted him to stay in bed, warm and safe.    He was sitting on the edge of the mattress when she returned, as if on the point of getting up, and the relief on his face when he saw her was palpable.  He held out a hand, and Pepper offered the diary, but he just tossed it on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her between his knees and pressing his face against her stomach.    Pepper held him close.  Tony had done a good job of concealing his distress over the past weeks, but she knew that he’d been hurting.  She swallowed back guilt again and ruffled his hair, and Tony sighed and loosened his grip, tilting his head back to look up at her.  “I missed you,” he said, his voice low and tired.    The vulnerability in his face put a lump in her throat, and Pepper stroked those strong black brows, ran a finger down his nose.  “I missed you too,” she told him.  “I just didn’t know it.”    Tony kissed her finger, and undid the knot in the robe’s sash with one jerk.  Pepper shrugged out of the garment and let him draw her back down to the bed, settling into the curve of his arm when he sat back against the headboard.  “Here.”  She picked up her diary and handed it to him.  “Take a look.”    Tony opened the notebook with his free hand, thumbing through to the June entries, and Pepper laid her head on his shoulder as he frowned at the page.  She already knew what was written there.    June 5th.  I’m in love with my boss.    And at the top of the next page--This has been coming a long time, I think.  At least, it’s not much of a surprise.  It might be a problem, but he’ll never notice, and I like my job.    He’s impossible.  It’ll be a good antidote.    Tony groaned and covered his face with the open notebook.  “This is supposed to make me feel better?”    Pepper snickered.  “No trauma, Tony.  Sorry, but you’re definitely innocent in this case.”    He lowered the book and smiled at her, warm and rueful.  “Am I still impossible?”    Her snicker turned into a laugh, and she smothered it against his lips.  “Yes, you are.”  She kissed him again.  “And I wouldn’t change that for anything.”    “Good,” Tony mumbled through his grin, and pulled her back into his arms, scooting them down to lie flat.  Pepper sighed and rested her hand on his arc implant, and he swallowed hard.    “My guess,” she said after a while, “is that my subconscious decided to take me back to a time when my life held a little less stress.  Stress, Tony, not trauma.”  She ran one finger around the implant casing--lightly, so as not to trouble his scars.  “And it’s not like you’re responsible for my heart.  At least, you weren’t then.”    Tony’s hand slid up between her breasts to rest over the heart in question.  “I am now.”    The statement was firm, and Pepper smiled.  Tony rubbed his chin against her hair.  “I’m sorry about--earlier.”    “Hmm?”  She lifted herself up on one elbow to look at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.    “Earlier.  Downstairs.  When you got your memory back.”  His cheeks were pink, and she realized that he was ashamed--ashamed of being dead drunk when her cascade had occurred.    Pepper regarded him for a long moment, then shook her head.  “You don’t remember--no, I guess you wouldn’t.”  She touched his cheek, making him face her.  “I told you my memory returned because of you.  You kissed me, Tony, and that’s what brought it all back.”    It hadn’t been a very pleasant kiss, but Pepper suspected that was part of why it had worked.  She still couldn’t remember Tony forcing air into her waterlogged lungs, and she hoped she never did remember that, but it was pretty clear that his clumsy, desperate press of lips had been the key in the lock.    If he hadn’t been drinking, he wouldn’t have kissed me.  And while Pepper didn’t think her memories would have stayed hidden forever, it could have been much longer before they’d returned.  What might have happened to us in the meantime?    Tony didn’t look entirely convinced, but when she shivered at the thought, he pulled her back down, surrounding her with himself as if to protect her from all the world.  Pepper cuddled closer, breathing in his scent.     There was so much to do, she knew.  They had a relationship to repair, and two lives to deal with, and she suspected it would take some pounding to get through Tony’s skull the fact that she didn’t blame him for any of what had happened.    But then, she had time.  They both did.    Pepper was drifting towards sleep when one more thought made her eyes snap open.  “Dammit.”    Tony jerked.  “What?  What is it?”    Pepper sighed again.  “Now I have to repack.  And do something with my apartment.”  She groaned.  “I hate moving.”    There was a breath of silence, and then Tony began to laugh helplessly, shaking the bed with the force of his amusement.  Pepper rolled over to look at him, smiling in response despite her annoyance.  “What?”    He shook his head.  “I told you so.”    It took her a moment to remember, and then Pepper rolled her eyes.  With a quick shove, she laid Tony flat on his back, pinning his wrists to the mattress.  “Smartass.”    He grinned, unrepentant, and Pepper all but melted at the rightness of it all.  “You betcha.”    And then he was kissing her again, and that was all that mattered.       Chapter One      Chapter Two     Chapter Three    Chapter Four    Chapter Five    Chapter Six    Chapter Seven     Chapter Eight    Chapter Nine     Chapter Ten    Chapter Eleven    Chapter Twelve    Epilogue    Iron Man Home Feedback