Fandom:
Iron Man (movieverse)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Summary: Tony takes advantage of serendipity.
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. No infringement
is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. All others
belong to me, particularly 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.
Additional disclaimer: I've never been to Orcas Island. I
tried to match reality to a decent degree, but don't take my word for
anything.
For those of you who asked, "palmer's kiss" is taken from Romeo and Juliet,
wherein the protagonists flirt about hands. "Palmer" is an
old word for pilgrim, as in the religious journeying type; in this
case, Juliet and Romeo are punning on "palm" to go from holding hands,
to kissing hands, to actually kissing. Since hands played
such a large part in this story, and I love my obscure titles...there
you go.
Cincoflex
once again made the banner (I've been saving this one)
and encouraged, admonished, cheered, shored up, and in all ways made
this story possible. I've been writing it since last autumn;
you'd think she'd get tired of it, but she soldiered on!
*wink* Thank you, love.

*********
"I've hardly seen you all day," Tony complained. It was true;
Pepper had been in high gear, moving so quickly that he figured he was
lucky to have gotten a good-morning kiss.
Pepper didn't look away from the clothes she was hunting through, but
from his spot in the big closet's doorway Tony could see her
smile. "I know, Mr. Stark, but I'm trying to tie up all the
loose ends here so that we'll have the next two weeks free."
"I still think it should be a month," he grumbled, but he could
understand why Pepper wanted to keep their honeymoon to half
that. Life went on, and so did companies, and as she'd
pointed out he would be itching to get back to his workshop by then
anyway. But Tony figured he was entitled to a little
sulking.
As for his missions, well, he meant to have transportation on standby,
just in case. But he found himself hoping that anyone using
his weapons illicitly would take it easy for a little while, and give
him some time with his bride...
"Maybe next August," Pepper suggested, surprising him. "If
it's a working vacation."
"Deal." Tony pushed off the doorframe and went to wrap his
arms around her, clasping his hands over her belly. "Now
about this separation thing..."
Pepper laughed, covering his fingers with her own.
“It’s only for one night.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t get why.
It’s not like we don’t already live
together.”
Her thumb stroked his wrist. “Call it part of the
mystery. Trust me--it’ll be more special if the
first time we see each other tomorrow is when the ceremony
begins.”
"If you say so." Tony rested his chin on her shoulder,
savoring the feel of Pepper pressed against him. It was
familiar, by now, but never boring. "But I can't keep an eye
on you and make you go to bed, instead of staying up half the night
working on those loose ends."
"Would I get any more sleep with you?" she asked dryly, though he could
see her grin out of the corner of his eye.
"Ohh yes," he purred, deliberately brushing his mustache along the
tender skin beneath her ear and feeling a pulse of pleasure as she
inhaled. "Because you won't be getting much sleep tomorrow night,
Mrs. Stark-T-minus-one, and I want you in top shape for
that."
The tiny moan that escaped her was extremely satisfying.
"Tell you what," Pepper managed. "I'll leave my laptop
here."
Tony considered. She could still do plenty with her phone,
but without it he couldn't get in touch with her. "And you'll
be in bed by eleven."
"Twelve." She turned in his arms and gave him a kiss, long
and lingering. "And you'll do the same."
"I should put you on the damn board." Tony let one hand
wander down to her backside. "Wanna get a head
start?"
"Tempting, but you're scheduled to leave for that last budget meeting
in five minutes." Pepper pushed a wayward lock of hair out of
his eyes.
"I can be a little late." He squeezed gently, and watched her
eyes slide shut.
"You're already going to be late, you're not dressed." Pepper
leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Patience.
You know what they say about those who wait."
"I've always been more of a go-get-'em guy myself." But Tony
relented; the meeting was
important, and it behooved him to make nice with Finance if he was
going to leave them to their own devices for two weeks. He
loosened his grip. "Okay, but we're still having dinner
together, right?"
"Mm-hmm, as long as you don't get hung up with the satellite
section." Pepper kissed him once more and shoved him gently
back a step. "Pick a suit, Stark, and get dressed--the
smoother today goes, the better tomorrow will be."
"I'm holding you to that," Tony promised, and obeyed.
The messenger arrived just as the budget meeting was letting out, and
Tony beckoned the man into his office and took the package.
Opening the outer box, he lifted the inner lid and sighed in
appreciation.
"Just as advertised. Very good." He examined the
contents carefully, removing the two smaller objects, then closed both
boxes and gave the package back to the messenger. "Take it on
to the second address--you may have to wait a couple of hours, I'm not
sure anyone's there yet."
The hefty tip he handed the man brought him an obedient nod.
The messenger passed Pepper on the way out, as she was coming into the
office, and she turned to watch him go. “What was
that?”
“Frascatti’s,” Tony said, holding out his
hand palm-up to display the little midnight-blue velvet
cases. “They sent the rings.”
Pepper’s eyes lit, and she came over to take one.
The wide band within was wrapped in the repeating pattern of her
engagement ring, delicate ivy leaves and smooth black enamel, intricate
and lovely. “I think this one’s
yours.”
Tony opened the other, and nodded. “Yep.
You like?”
“Very much.” She peered over at the
smaller band in his box, then pulled the one she held from its velvet
cradle for a closer look. “They did a wonderful
job.”
“Should we try them on, make sure they
fit?” Tony ran his thumb over the one in his palm,
enjoying the texture.
“They’re from Frascatti’s,
Tony. They’ll fit perfectly.”
Pepper slid the ring back in and closed the box carefully, raising a
brow at him. Tony smiled.
“Give it back to me tomorrow.”
The house was far too quiet that night, even when Tony had the heavy
metal cranked as high as the speakers would go. It was the
first time he’d been alone all night since Pepper had moved
in, and even though that had been less than twelve weeks before, he missed
her.
Bored and restless, he fell back on tradition and started pulling apart
one of his cars for a tune-up. There was no way he was going
to finish it that evening, but it wouldn’t hurt it to sit,
and it could wait until they got back.
I wonder what
she’s doing, he thought as he unscrewed and
dismantled. Pepper was spending the night at
Cherie’s, having packed a small valise that morning and
pulled it from the limo after dinner and a kiss goodbye. He
tried to picture her in a house he’d never seen, chatting
with her friend and Cherie’s husband, brushing her teeth,
settling down in a guest room bed and closing her eyes.
Can she sleep
without me? It was a lonely thought, but Tony
told himself to get over it. It’s just one night,
dumbass. You’ll see her in a few hours, and after
that...
After that, there would never be an excuse to sleep apart
again.
I
won’t ever be alone.
Intellectually, Tony knew there were any number of reasons why they
might separate at some point, up to and including him making some
terrible mistake. But he refused to think about it just
then. In the morning, Pepper would come back to
him.
To stay.
Gradually Tony relaxed, becoming absorbed in the engine he was tearing
apart. When the music’s volume dropped enough to
let Jarvis be heard, Tony almost started.
“Sir, it is now midnight.”
“Right.” Tony looked down at himself; his
sleeveless shirt was black, but even that couldn’t hide the
grease smears, and his hands were worse. Straightening from
his crouch and grunting at stiff muscles, he went to scrub his hands at
the sink, then wandered back, absently wiping the last moisture off on
his pants.
The ceremony was scheduled for ten a.m., and the various suppliers were
due starting at seven, but Tony knew that Happy could handle letting
them in. “Jarvis,” he said out loud,
“if I’m not up by seven, wake
me.”
“By your command,” Jarvis repeated, and Tony
snorted and threw himself down on the workshop couch. This way I won’t get
grease all over the sheets, he reasoned virtuously, and if
there was another reason he wasn’t going to think about it or
he’d never get to sleep.
As it was, he didn’t notice when Jarvis let the music fade
away.
The feeling in the pit of his stomach was akin to the sensation he got
when flying--excitement and joy and a sense of possibilities, all
mixed. Tony fixed his cuffs with care, and looked at himself
in the mirror.
He looked good; well, he usually did. But Tony had taken
especial care this morning, and he felt it showed. His tux
was perfectly pressed, he’d trimmed his goatee, and
he’d picked the cologne Pepper seemed to like best.
There was one final thing he wanted to add, but as he reached for his
father’s pocket watch on the dresser a hum made him look
up.
Dummy was rolling into the room, a small package in his gripper,
silvery ribbon spilling over one claw. He held it out to
Tony, who took it, bemused and wondering if even the ‘bots
were getting into the wedding thing.
But Dummy reversed course without waiting for comment, and Tony looked
down at the little box. There was a card tucked under the
ribbon, and he pulled it out; the three words were in
Pepper’s graceful clear script.
All my love.
Tony felt the corner of his mouth curl up, and he pulled the bow loose
with gentle fingers, as if too hasty a move might damage the
gift. Inside the box, resting on a bed of the fluffy stuff
used by jewelers for padding, was an object he couldn’t
immediately identify.
Tony plucked it out. It was heavy, gleaming gold, angular and
geometric, with a short chain and clip on one end. He
recognized the design as Art Deco, and the patina indicated it was old,
but other than that--
“Jarvis? What is this?” He
rubbed his thumb over the cool surface, liking the feel
already.
“It is an antique watch fob, sir, circa 1929. Do
you wish to know the provenance?”
Tony shook his head, unable to find words. It was the perfect
gift, simple and exactly right, and Pepper all over. He set
the box and card aside, and carefully hooked the fob onto the end of
the watch chain.
Then he turned the watch over and pried open the back, managing it
without Pepper’s fingernails this time. The picture
of his mother was gone, removed some time before and placed into a tiny
frame that now sat on his workbench in the garage; in its place was a
little photograph of Pepper in profile, smooth hair falling across her
cheek and a small soft smile on her lips.
Yes.
Snapping the watch shut, he tucked it into his pocket next to the ring,
and went to get things started.
Actually, they had started without him. The back lawn held
neat rows of chairs, set off with tall vases spilling over with
flowers; a pavilion-style tent had been set up nearby, and savory
smells were beginning to waft out of it. The repulsor field
that Tony had set up was on--he could hear the faint vibration if he
concentrated--and he could see a couple of motorboats far out on the
water, Stark Industries security in place to keep off any gawkers
coming from that direction. A baby grand piano sat on a
platform constructed for it; the lid was open, and a man in a suit was
bent over its guts wielding a tuning wrench.
Even without Pepper’s actual presence, in fact, everything
was going smoothly. Tony wandered over to inspect the
refreshments, only to get chased back out again by the busy caterers,
and moved his attention to the bar area next to it, where champagne was
chilling on ice and rows of glasses glittered in the sun. He
nodded to the bartender, who was waiting silently behind the long
table, a neat bow tie adorning his...arm.
"Looking good," Tony told Butterfingers, who chirped at him.
"There you are." Tony turned to see Rhodey loping over, this
time looking more comfortable in a suit.
"I don't rate dress blues?" Tony joshed, grinning, and Rhodey rolled
his eyes.
"It's your own damn fault for having this outside. If I wear
the uniform I gotta keep the cover on all day."
"Blame Pepper," Tony said immediately.
"Yeah, I'll get right on that. Hey, I know I'm technically
not your best man, but you have the ring?"
Tony patted his watch pocket. "Right here. Did you
seriously think I'd forget?"
Rhodey shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."
Tony decided not to take offense, and the two of them were silent a
moment, looking over the sunlit lawn. Then Tony sighed and
stretched a little. "It's what, about eight-thirty?
Let's go in and get something to drink before everybody else gets
here."
"Um." Rhodey crossed his arms. "I've been
specifically detailed to keep you out of the house while the bride gets
ready."
"Pepper's here?"
Tony swung around to face the mansion as if drawn by a magnet, but
Rhodey moved to block him.
"Yep, and you're not supposed to see
her yet, Stark, so stand down."
Tony considered trying to dodge around his friend, and then considered
how pissed Pepper would be if he managed it. "The workshop,
then. There's stuff in the fridge."
Rhodey squinted at him. "I dunno, man..."
Tony held up a hand. "I won't go upstairs. Word of
honor." He raised both brows. "If you're worried,
you can have Jarvis lock the door."
Rhodey snickered. "Yeah, okay."
It took them a few minutes to walk around to the garage entrance, but
once inside they pulled sodas from the minifridge and settled down to
watch ESPN. Tony was amused when Rhodey did tell Jarvis to
lock the door, because he had at least three ways to circumvent that in
under ninety seconds, but since he had no intention of going upstairs
it didn't matter. Tempting Pepper's wrath was too big a
risk.
Jarvis let them know when the first car cleared the gates, and Tony
tossed his can into the recycle bin and stood, feeling that excitement
rise. "Time to get the party started."
There weren't many guests, all told; as Pepper had wanted.
Old friends, a few elderly couples who'd known Tony's parents; board
members and a handful of SI employees. But there were no
relations in the little crowd, and Tony reflected in between shaking
hands and offering greetings that both he and Pepper had spoken a
truth. In many ways, they had only each other.
"Felicitations, Tony." Vralia's gravelly voice broke into his
distraction, and he focused on her roguish grin. "Nice to see
her making an honest man of you."
Tony smirked, and accepted her kiss on his cheek. "I've
always been an honest
man, Vee."
She chuckled. One camera hung on a strap around her neck and
she was holding another. "Let's not even go there.
I've got some nice shots so far but I want to set up a tripod near the
front."
"Go ahead." Tony looked past her. "Where's
Jen?"
Vralia glanced at her watch. "Should be here any
minute. Let me tell you, sugar, that home computer of yours
is developing a real eye for a picture."
"Jarvis? Really?" Tony blinked.
"Yeah, he showed me some of his stills from the video feeds.
Not bad for something with technically no imagination."
Vralia hefted the camera she held. "You know the drill,
pretend I'm not here."
With that she loped off towards the chairs, where people were beginning
to arrange themselves. Tony shook his head, reminded himself
to take a look at Jarvis’ code, and moved on to the next
person.
It didn’t take long for everyone to get settled.
Tony found Jen sitting in one of the back chairs, fanning herself; she
looked, in his uneducated opinion, about ready to pop, but he figured
that if Vralia wasn’t worried he didn’t need to
be. A plump woman with curly blonde hair, she beamed up at
him and pulled him down for a kiss.
“You’ve done well, Tony,” she told
him.
“Better believe it,” he shot back,
grinning. “Should I have an ambulance on
standby?”
Jen snickered, and rested a hand on her belly.
“About two more weeks, they tell me. Though I have
fun gasping and clutching just to watch people
panic.”
Tony sighed. “You haven’t
changed.” He caught Rhodey waving at him, and
patted her shoulder. “Gotta
go.”
He made his way to the front of the seating area.
“What’s up?”
Rhodey nodded at the little crowd.
“They’re getting a bit
restless.”
Tony set his cuffs. “So am I. Is Judge
Fremont here?”
“Front and center.” Rhodey tilted his
head at the first row of chairs. Tony saw the long lean form
of the judge occupying the middle of the row.
“All we’re missing is the bride,
then.” Tony straightened. “Go
grab your seat.”
Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder and went to sit at the end of the
front row, next to a short woman with brown hair in intricate braids
who smiled at him. Tony looked out at the little crowd,
noting the pleased anticipation most of them were displaying.
“Well. You’re here for the free booze,
right?”
A wave of laughter rose, and Tony looked them over, smiling a
little. Improvising was one of the things he did
best. “I’m glad you all could make
it. I know there’s been a lot of speculation about
this wedding, but fortunately for all of us Pepper’s in
charge of it, which means no belly dancers or
AC/DC.”
More laughter, and he let it wash around him, anticipation building
under his arc implant. “In fact, I might be worried
if I didn’t know she is always--”
And he saw her suddenly, standing at the end of the aisle between the
chairs as if waiting for him to notice her. She was wearing
something white and filmy, just like he’d imagined, and the
tiara he’d sent over the day before glittered through the
curls of her piled-up hair; but really, all he could see was her
smile.
“--Punctual,” he finished after a moment, and
realized he was holding out a hand. “And there she
is.”
There was no music, and no escort, but the guests still rose as Pepper
walked up the aisle to him. Tony couldn’t look
away, not that he wanted to; joy was rising in him like a tide, joy and
an exulting certainty that this was what should
happen.
Pepper’s fingers laced with his, tight and trembling, and
Tony raised her hand to his mouth for a kiss, unable to
resist. She laughed a little, cheeks pink, and there was a
spattering of applause from the guests.
Judge Fremont, tall and dark, rose to step forward, her wrinkled face
stern. She wore a dress in a deep navy blue instead of her
robes, but there was no doubt of her authority. Clearing her
throat, she raised her hands. “Shall we
begin?”
The exchange of vows was brief and simple, but Tony felt the weight of
each word that passed his lips, the solemn promises he was
making. These
I will keep. He kept his eyes on
Pepper’s, and she looked back, gaze clear and unafraid and so
loving he ached with it. She spoke her promises in a quiet
voice, and he wanted to catch each phrase and keep it, proof of how she
loved him.
Mine,
was his thought as he slipped the ring onto her finger; and Hers was the
satisfying counterpart as she eased his over his knuckle. The
gold warmed against his skin but the weight remained, and he welcomed
it.
The judge, official sternness fading, gave them an austere smile, and
pronounced them married, and Tony took his wife--his wife--into his arms
and kissed her, scarcely hearing the applause.
Pepper’s lips were warm and she held him tightly, and the joy
crested and spilled over, and Tony laughed, drowning happily in her
smile.
It was a good party. Tony expected no less; Stark parties
were always
good. The champagne flowed as Butterfingers poured without
spilling a drop or a bubble, and soft piano music came from the fingers
of the musician at the baby grand. The guests mingled easily,
chatting and munching on the little savories and sweets that the
caterers brought forth, and Tony and Pepper wandered along, accepting
congratulations. He had to let her go each time someone
wanted to embrace her, but as soon as the hug was over his hand found
hers again, wrapping around her fingers as if the touch were essential
to him.
Well, it
is.
Finally, in a lull, he tugged her around a stand of bushes into
relative privacy. Pepper swung easily into his arms,
laughing, and Tony kissed her hard and long, reveling in the fact that
they belonged completely to one another now. As long as we both shall live.
It hardly seemed long enough, but he would take what he could
get--
“Tony--” Her smile reappeared as soon as
he let her lips go, and he grinned back, exhilarated.
“How’re you doing, Mrs. Stark? Ready to
ditch this crowd and fly off into the sunset with
me?”
Pepper reached up and stroked his mustache. “Orcas
Island is north,
Mr. Stark, it’s a good thing you have Jarvis handling the
directions.” She evaded his retaliatory nip at her
fingers. “And I think we’d better stay at
least until after the cake.”
“It’s a little
west. But you’re right, cake is
good.” Tony ran his hands down her back to her
hips. “You look spectacular, by the
way.”
Her dress was silky and comprised of several layers, as far as he could
tell, lacy and extravagant without getting in the way. Pepper
pinkened again. “So do you.”
She kissed his nose, and Tony laughed.
“You may not look like a marshmallow, but I still want to
nibble on you,” he murmured in her ear, taking the
opportunity to start with her neck. “Only question
is, where are the buttons on this thing?” He let
his hand wander suggestively up her spine.
Pepper squeaked. “It’s a zipper, and
I’m not telling.” She squirmed until he
raised his head. “Patience,
Tony.”
Tony smirked at her. “Judging from the whiff I got,
I’m not the only one who needs patience right
now.”
Pepper flushed red, but her smile didn’t disappear.
“Just for that...” She leaned in to
whisper. “Remember that box from the
shower?”
He could hardly forget.
“Gah. You’re wearing that under
there?”
“Those,” Pepper corrected sweetly, took his hand,
and pulled him back into the public eye while he was still trying to
find words.
They held the promised press conference, which was more like a photo
opportunity despite the shots Vralia had released--standing outside the
front gates and letting the photographers go crazy, while answering the
usual banal questions. The SI security people had strict
instructions to keep it to no more than four minutes, but Tony was
pleased to note that Pepper didn’t seem stressed by it
all. She’d given statements to the press before, of
course, and taken questions, but rarely had it been so
personal. But she stood calmly within the circle of his arm,
front and center instead of background, and Tony caught the soft smiles
on several faces as they watched her. His arm tightened in
possession and pride. Yeah.
She can handle you.
Pepper had described the cake to him, so Tony knew what to expect when
the caterers brought it out. But Pepper’s mouth
fell open at the sight of the elegant tower, twined with icing flowers,
and Tony burst into laughter--because the little Iron Man figurine on
top, carefully placed next to a ceramic chili pepper, was not part of the
design scheme.
“Jimmy!”
Pepper looked as if she didn’t know whether to be angry or
amused. Rhodey, at the forefront of the little crowd,
snickered.
“What can I say, it needed that final
touch.”
Pepper rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. Tony managed to
calm his laughter, and shoved Rhodes on one shoulder.
“I better not find any shaving cream on the Audi, after
this.”
“Don’t give him ideas.” Pepper
took the knife the caterer was holding out.
She had been inclined to skip the cake-cutting ritual, but Tony had
voted for it. He wasn’t sure why, except it was
part of his mental landscape for a wedding, something like the
bride’s dress; and Pepper had agreed. Wrapping his
hand around hers for the first cut felt a bit silly but at the same
time totally right, and when the rich odor of the confection hit his
nose Tony’s mouth started to water. Pepper had
given him dire warnings of what she would do to him if he smashed the
cake into her face instead of feeding it to her, but when he lifted the
piece he wasn’t even tempted; ruining that smile would be a
crime.
She took a neat bite, eyes twinkling, and fed him a piece in turn to
the applause of the guests, dimpling when he indulged himself and
licked a bit of frosting from her thumb. Tony hoped that
Vralia was getting a good shot.
“Do we get to open the presents now?” he asked
Pepper a little later, when the cake had been sliced and
distributed.
She glanced over at the impromptu pile on one table. The
invitations had specifically asked for none, but some people had
ignored the stipulation. “No...they’ll
have to wait until we get back.”
Tony pouted, and forked up another bite of cake.
“That’s no fun.”
Pepper snickered. “You could have Happy box them up
and send them to us,” she suggested impishly.
“I just might.” It seemed unfair, to not
be able to find out what was in the packages until later. And
he’d asked much weirder things of Happy before.
Tony looked around at the little crowd. Everyone seemed to be
getting along, even the board members; Judge Fremont was chatting with
Cedric of all people, gesturing animatedly as Pepper’s
assistant nodded in agreement, while Happy and his date sat talking
quietly in a corner. Tony blinked.
"Did you know Happy had a girlfriend?" he asked Pepper in a low voice,
nodding at the pair, who were holding hands.
"Yep," Pepper replied, sipping from her champagne glass. "Her
name's Lou, she's very nice."
He glanced at her, suspicious, and saw the corner of her mouth
twitching. "Hah. You only met her today, didn't
you?"
She gave in and laughed. "Yes, all right. She came
in to freshen up before the ceremony. But she is nice."
Tony contemplated his chauffeur, who was looking more, well, open than he'd ever
seen the man before. "Huh. Well, good for him, at
least he's got taste."
Pepper sniffed, and thumped him gently. "That may be so, but
don't say
that to him, Tony, or he won't stop blushing for a month."
"Yeah, yeah." Tony pulled out his pocket watch and opened it
to check the time, enjoying the little ritual of it. "We're
scheduled to leave in about twenty minutes, and before you start with
the snark, this is one flight I intend to be on time for, Mrs.
Stark."
"I'm not arguing," she said serenely. "Our bags are in the
limo; the only thing left is signing the license."
"I love your efficiency, have I mentioned that lately?" Tony
replaced the watch. "Let's go corner the judge."
The conversation had shifted by the time they reached the pair; Cedric
was actually chattering, which Tony hadn't quite believed possible of
the man. The topic was apparently Cajun cooking, but when
Pepper and Tony arrived, Cedric flushed a deep pink and closed his
mouth.
"Sorry to interrupt," Tony said amiably. "But we have a
license to sign."
"Ah, yes," the judge said, "of course. Mr. Toffle, don't go
away, I still have to convince you of the benefits of a good
Tabasco."
Pepper smiled at her assistant. "Come along, Cedric, you can
be a witness."
"Yeah, we need two, don't we?" Tony looked around until he
spotted Rhodey, chatting with Ms. Fukushima, and gave a sharp
whistle.
Rhodey glanced up, excused himself, and loped over. "What's
up?"
"Time to sign the license, we need your eyeballs." Tony
stepped over to the nearest table and pushed the plates
aside.
It only took a few moments. Tony signed with his usual
flourish, watching smugly as Pepper wrote her new last name for the
first time in her own elegant script. Rhodey and Cedric both
added their signatures, and Rhodey took the opportunity to lay another
congratulatory kiss on Pepper's cheek, twin to the one he'd given her
right after the ceremony. Then he held out a hand to
Tony. "You done good."
"That's what I hear." Tony returned his grip.
Rhodey laughed.
"You know, out of the two of us, I never would have expected you to be
the first to get married."
Tony shrugged. "Me either." Random chance had done
him a favor, though, and he'd never been slow to follow up on the
chances Fortune tossed his way.
"Just...take care, okay?" Rhodey's gaze was sober, and Tony
knew what he was trying to say. There were so many ways he
could screw things up, so many things that could smash their happiness
with one blow; but Tony was determined not to let any of them
happen.
"I will," he told his old friend firmly. As much a promise to
himself as to Rhodey.
Rhodey nodded, awkward and acknowledging. "Good."
His bride was talking quietly with Cedric--giving instructions, to
judge by Cedric's listening expression--and Tony took a moment to just
admire her. The afternoon sunlight lit her hair almost as
brightly as it did the diamonds on the tiara, and to Tony's eyes she
seemed to glow, white skin and white dress and the soft smile that kept
reappearing. The ring on her left hand caught the sun as she
gestured, and Tony didn't bother to keep in his own grin. He
stepped up behind her and slid an arm around her waist, conscious of
Rhodey's smirk at the sight. "Ready to go?"
Pepper leaned into him, her hand coming to rest on his.
"Absolutely."
It didn't take long for Happy to bring the limo around.
Normally Tony would have driven them himself and left the luggage to
Hogan, but he didn't want to deal with the crowd still lingering
outside the gate, and Happy was an old hand at sliding a vehicle
through a mob. Tony was a little surprised when Rhodey
absented himself from the last round of farewells, but that mystery was
solved when he returned with both Butterfingers and Dummy in tow,
carrying baskets.
"Do you know what that's about?" Tony asked Pepper sotto voce.
She took one look, and her eyes widened at the sight of the 'bots
distributing little bags. "Yes--" she said.
"Run!"
But it was too late. As they dashed for the limousine, the
air filled with laughter and rose petals, and they arrived at the car
in a cloud of hoots and whistles and flower pieces, Happy standing
stolidly in the midst of it all and ignoring the pink and white snow
covering his shoulders.
Tony slid in after Pepper, shaking off petals and sputtering with
amused outrage. "Roses? Roses? Is
he reading Martha Stewart now?" He rolled down the window and
stuck his head out as the engine purred to life. "Hey,
Platypus, I didn't know you were such a romant--"
A handful of petals hit him square in the face, and Tony spit out rose
bits as Rhodey whooped. The limo was halfway down the drive
by the time Tony got his mouth clear, and he collapsed back onto the
seat, prepared to grumble--until he saw Pepper sprawled out on the
opposite bench, helpless with laughter.
Tony grinned, shook off the vegetable matter, and slid over to start
picking petals off of Pepper, wondering how long he could keep her
laughing.
The flight to Washington didn't take long. To his annoyance,
Tony spent almost half of it accepting congratulatory calls from
various senators and other dignitaries--people Pepper wouldn't let him
put off--while she curled up in one of the chairs, reading, her toes
peeking out from the froth of skirt and her hair loosened.
The visual almost made up for the tedium of making nice over the phone,
especially when he wandered past and managed to inch her skirt up
almost to her knee before she noticed. The silvery stockings
she was wearing disappeared as she shook her dress back down and gave
him an admonitory glance, but they were enough to make his pulse run
faster.
They didn't fly directly to Orcas Island; instead, they landed at
SeaTac International and picked up the roadster, which Tony had sent up
earlier in the week. The ferry ride was, to Tony's
perception, ridiculously slow, but speed clearly wasn't the point, and
he had to admit that it was nice to watch the sunset from the side of
the boat, arms around Pepper to keep her from the chilly air.
The little bed and breakfast was actually a collection of tiny
cottages, surrounded by pines and perfect for privacy. One of
the inn's staff was waiting for them in the dusk, sitting on the
cottage's little front porch; the tall man handed over the key, told
them to sleep well, and vanished into the woods almost before Tony
could thank him.
"Huh." Tony watched him go, a little baffled, and then turned
back to get their bags.
Pepper took her smaller bag from him, which he permitted only because
there were three and he only had two hands. "At least he
didn't make a fuss."
"True." Tony set the bags down by the door and unlocked it,
expecting a dark room, but instead a warm glow spilled out, firelight
and lamplight and a wave of savory scents.
The cottage was mostly one large room, with a fireplace and seating
area, a miniature kitchen, and a huge bed against the back
wall. The table in the breakfast nook was set with a meal,
and the whole place had a feeling of luxury without
overstatement. Tony approved.
He set the bags down near the door and turned back to block Pepper's
entrance. "Ah-ah. You forgot something."
She blinked at him, smiling. "Are you charging a
toll?"
"Good idea, but no." He took her bag and put it down too,
then stepped back over the threshold. "The bride's supposed
to get carried in, remember?"
"Oh, that's--" Her protest squeaked off as Tony scooped her
up, one arm behind her back and the other under her knees.
"Watch your head," he instructed cheerfully, and carried her inside--a
matter of two strides, but then he found he didn't want to put her down.
Pepper, giggling, cupped his chin in one hand and kissed him, as
generous a toll as anyone could wish, and Tony moved blindly towards
the bed, barely remembering to kick the door shut behind him.
The quilt was soft, and smelled like fresh air as Tony lowered Pepper
onto it. She pulled him down after her into a laughing tumble
of kisses and caresses. Somehow they managed to lose their
shoes, and Pepper peeled him out of his jacket--the tie was still on
the plane somewhere. Tony ducked out of the suit's
suspenders, reaching for her. "So where is the zipper?" he
asked, sliding his hands around her ribs towards her spine.
She laughed, and showed him, and they took their time undressing one
another, with an appreciation not lessened by familiarity.
Tony whimpered at the full sight of Pepper in the contents of that box,
sheer silver silk that managed to be both bridal and devastatingly sexy
at the same time. "You're gorgeous," he sighed, kneeling next
to her in something like awe. "Pepper..."
"Is this a good time to tell you I'm really glad the ring got
stuck?" She smiled at him, lips trembling a little, and Tony
took up the invitation of her open arms, hissing with pleasure at the
feel of silk and skin against him.
"If I had to do it over, I'd remake the damn thing a size smaller, just
to make sure." He grinned as she laughed. "Hey,
Pepper, we left something out of the vows."
She blinked, sitting up a little. "We did?
What?"
Tony kissed her, pressing her gently back down, his focus pulling in
until he was concentrated solely on her. Pepper moaned, her
hands skimming the muscles of his back, and he finally let her mouth
go, intent on tasting as much of her as he could. "With my
body, I thee worship," he murmured.
And did.
Tony was a little surprised to find that the next days didn't bore
him. He wasn't much of a nature buff, but long walks on the
trails with Pepper turned out to be interesting if not exciting,
especially when she invented a bird-spotting game where the points were
kisses.
They rented a sailboat and went out on the water, sailing around the
little islands that dotted the water near Orcas and coming back with
appetites that were nicely fulfilled by the various restaurants
available. They also rented a moped, and after about fifteen
minutes on it Tony bought a set of tools and juiced it up, to the point
where he actually collected a speeding ticket. But he didn't
mind; for one thing, it was fun
to feel Pepper's grip on his waist tighten when he
peeled away from a stoplight...
They bought fresh fruit from a farm and took an air tour in a biplane
that predated the Depression, and Tony spent almost three hours
discussing engines with the owner afterwards. And every night
and sometimes during the day they would retreat to the big bed and make
the most of leisure, privacy, and no deadlines.
Pepper in her working clothes was deliciously professional, he knew
that already. Pepper in her sleep shirt, or the lace-edged
lingerie she preferred, was delectable. But Pepper in nothing
at all, standing in the flood of moonlight coming in their window and
beckoning him closer, was absolutely mind-blowing; and Pepper sweaty
and sated, drowsy in the glow of his arc, was a memory Tony treasured,
even if he had every intention of recreating it as often as
possible.
Pepper sobbing that she loved him as she came apart under his
touch...for that, there were no words.
On the eighth day they woke to rain, steady and gray. Tony
dressed first and stood looking out the window towards the water, which
was only barely visible, and realized with a pang that despite the joy
of spending time with Pepper, he was going to have a bad case of cabin
fever by the end of the day.
“Any sign of it letting up?” Pepper asked, and he
turned to see her enveloped in one of the luxurious terrycloth robes
provided by the inn, leaning against the counter of the kitchenette and
sipping coffee.
Tony shook his head, and walked over, trying to hide his disappointment
with the weather. She set down her mug and kissed him, arms
sliding around his waist, and he leaned into her, savoring the unique
flavor that was Pepper. His bad mood shifted, and he was
starting to think of ways to coax her back to bed, when she pulled back
with a happy sigh. “Do you still want to try to
break the bank at Monte Carlo?”
He gaped at her. “What?”
Her smile was teasing. “Our passports are on the
plane. We could be there by tomorrow
morning.”
In that moment, Tony realized again that Pepper knew him in every
way...and that was just fine with him. Laughing, he hugged
her hard. “You know I love you,
right?”
For answer, she kissed him again.
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