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.
Note: This story wasn't supposed to be this long, and when I started I
wanted to see if I could do it entirely from Tony's POV and still have
it make sense. So you'll have to be the judge of whether I
succeeded, because I'm bloody-minded stubborn sometimes.
This is most definitely Cincoflex's
baby! And she did the banner too. *hearts*
*********
As usual, Pepper arrived at the mansion bright and early the next day
to make sure he was dressed, fed, and coming to work. When
she
entered his bedroom, Tony was impressed to see that instead of a
bandage, she was wearing a wrist brace that extended past the ring,
neatly concealing it from view. “Nice one,
Potts.
Sudden-onset carpal tunnel syndrome?”
She smiled and handed him his morning espresso, her spirits obviously
restored. “You have to admit, it’s a good
excuse.”
“It is indeed.” Tony swallowed the
scalding thick
liquid with relish, feeling his synapses snap awake, and handed her
back the tiny cup. “What’s on the agenda
for
today?”
Before Pepper could answer, her BlackBerry chimed, and she grimaced
apologetically and answered it. Tony waited, using the time
to
straighten his tie and set his cuffs, but just as he got them aligned
Pepper’s voice broke into his concentration. “What?”
He couldn’t remember hearing quite that combination of horror
and
outrage before. Pepper was pale again, her mouth hanging open
as
she listened to the caller, but her eyes were beginning to
flash.
“No.
That’s not--no!
Where the hell did that come from?” She
paused. “What do you mean, photos?”
Tony stuck his hands in his pockets, ruining his cuff placement, and
leaned against the wall, trying idly to guess what disaster had her so
riled. Can’t
be me. I haven’t even been on a mission in days.
Pepper was used to dealing with his escapades, even if they had morphed
from women to heroism, but it had been a quiet week, and unless someone
had unearthed old news, he was clean this time.
“I’ll call you back,” Pepper said, her
voice glacial,
and lowered her phone. Before Tony could ask, she whirled and
stalked from his bedroom down to the living room, and he followed,
curious.
Pepper halted in the middle of the big room and spoke to the
air.
“Jarvis, call up all the current news items related to Stark
Industries. Display here, please.”
The window flared with light, and a dozen separate pictures appeared on
it, news clips and headlines predominating. At the bottom,
the
company’s stock price showed up, and Tony raised his brows at
the
numbers displayed. “Wow, that’s
impressive.
What the hell happened overnight, and why didn’t R&D
tell us
they’d solved cold fusion?”
“It’s not R&D,” Pepper said
flatly, ignoring the
joke. “It’s us. More
specifically, it’s
me.”
Tony focused on the various displays, and felt his own jaw loosen
slightly. All the news ran along the same theme--his sudden
engagement to his personal assistant.
Oops.
“I thought Ndibe didn’t gossip,” he said
mildly, wondering what exactly had happened. Certainly Happy didn’t
tell tales, and as far as he knew there was no one else who’d
seen--
“Jarvis, magnify number four,” Pepper said, and the
picture
in question swelled, answering his question. The photos were
black-and-white, but pretty high quality for security cameras, and they
clearly showed the dark band on Pepper’s ring finger as the
two
of them walked down the bank hallway.
“Gregory’s going to be pissed,” Tony
remarked.
“Which one do you think it was, the box handler or
Gregory’s assistant?”
Pepper was still staring at the screen with an expression he usually
only saw when someone underage tried to press a paternity suit on
him. “My guess is the woman, but it
doesn’t really
matter.” Her phone rang again, but
uncharacteristically she
ignored it, her attention taken up by the images before them.
“Hell.”
Tony snickered; Pepper so rarely swore out loud that it was always a
bit funny when she did, though it also meant very serious trouble for
someone. She glared at him, but only for an
instant.
“I’m going to have to get PR in on--but I
can’t--” She hissed, and Tony understood
her
frustration. The moment she set foot outside the property,
the
paparazzi would be all over her. And the brace was absolutely
no
use, because no one would believe that it wasn’t hiding the
ring.
Her phone chimed once more, and Pepper snatched it up to her
ear. “Hello?”
Tony moved past her for a better look at the display.
“Jarvis, analysis,” he requested quietly.
“The news of your putative engagement has had a remarkable
effect,” Jarvis answered, equally quiet.
“Stark
Industries’ stock price has climbed nearly forty points since
the
opening bell, and while many of the headlines are deplorably
sensational, the overall attitude is positive.”
Several
newspaper articles appeared on the array. “The
consensus
seems to be that the engagement is proof of stability on your part,
particularly given the importance of Ms. Potts’ role in
maintaining the company. It is early, of course, but many
financial analysts are hailing the move as
propitious.”
Tony whistled softly, astonished. “You mean, to get
everybody to calm down about the changes all I had to do was promise to
get married?”
“Not quite, sir,” Jarvis said.
“You had to promise to marry Pepper.”
Tony opened his mouth to debate that statement, realized he
didn’t really want
to, and closed it again. Behind him, Pepper spoke.
“That was the board,” she said, her voice flat, and
when
Tony turned to see her she looked shell-shocked.
“They
called to offer their congratulations.”
“They called you, and they didn’t call me?” Tony
asked, insulted, but Jarvis broke in.
“They called you first, sir, but as you ordered all calls
from
the board made before noon are automatically shunted to voice
mail.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Details.
How’d they sound?”
Pepper sank slowly to the couch. “Enthusiastic.”
Her eyes were wide and disbelieving, and Tony began to laugh at the
sheer absurdity of the whole thing. So much for damaging the company.
He supposed the reaction could be interpreted as an insult to himself,
but he didn’t care. It couldn’t be more
perfect if we set it up on purpose.
Pepper buried her face in her hands despite the brace. Tony
got
himself under control and sat down next to her.
“Look at it
this way, Potts, you didn’t lose any
respect.”
She made an undecipherable noise, something between a growl and a
groan, and lifted her head, peeling off the brace and tossing it onto
the coffee table with more force than necessary.
“This is a disaster.”
“Not necessarily,” he pointed out.
“Nothing’s irrevocable yet. We can claim
anything we
like about those photos, and the press doesn’t know where you
are. For all they know, you’re home sick with a bad
cold
for three days, and when you’re back on the job we can deny
the
whole thing.”
Pepper shook her head. “Tony...do you really think
that
will work?” It wasn’t a true
question.
“If we wait three days to counter it, the repercussions will
go
on for weeks...and it’ll wreak havoc with the
company.
Think about it.”
Tony frowned.
I hate to admit it, but she’s right.
Other companies survived such rumors with few ill effects, but most
other companies weren’t headed up by
celebrities-slash-superheroes. For good or ill, his own
actions
did affect Stark Industries--more so now than ever. And the
company wasn’t just stock points and manufacturing, it was
people
as well--
“If I may point out,” Jarvis broke in,
“engagements
can be broken as well as made--but there is no reason to do so
immediately.”
That made him pause. Tony looked over at Pepper, who was
frowning
also, but thoughtfully. “What, you mean pretend for
a
while?” he asked.
“Exactly. Given time, the media frenzy will die
down, and
eventually you may end your ‘engagement’ with a
minimum of
fuss. Stark Industries will still feel the effects, but they
will
be much milder than if you try to deny the rumor
now.”
Pepper bit her lip, then started to smile. “Jarvis,
are you suggesting we lie?”
“Prevarication is a common and accepted practice in the
business
world,” Jarvis said placidly. “Given the
alternative,
it may be the wisest course.”
Tony snorted. “I’m starting to wonder
about that last
memory upgrade.” He regarded Pepper, who was
twisting the
ring on her finger thoughtfully. “What do you
think, Ms.
Potts?”
She slid the ring up to her knuckle, which was still too swollen to let
it pass. “It does make a kind of insane
sense,” she
said reluctantly, holding the ring there but not pushing.
“If we confirm the rumors, it’ll be a circus,
but...”
“...But it’ll be a happy circus,” Tony
finished for
her. “I could bring in a couple of dancing bears if
you’d like. Or would you prefer
elephants? Would that
be overkill?”
Pepper sniffed, lips curling up again.
“It’s a tough decision, Tony.”
Her voice was serious despite her smile, and his heart chilled at a
sudden thought. “Is there someone who’d
object to
this, Pepper? Some boyfriend I don’t know
about?” He tried to keep his voice light, but
wasn’t
sure he’d succeeded.
Her brows drew together. “No...as you’ve
mentioned
repeatedly, you don’t like it when I have plans,”
she said
tartly. “And boyfriends usually require plans of
some
kind.”
Tony let out a breath and rubbed his hands on his thighs, relief
coursing through him. “What can I say,
I’m
possessive.”
“You’re greedy,”
Pepper grumbled, but it lacked force.
“That too.” Tony reached over and took
her left hand,
thumb running over the band. “Pepper, if you really
want
to, we can go down to the workshop and I can cut this thing off in two
minutes, and that’ll be that, rumors be damned. I
don’t want to put you in an impossible position
here.”
Pepper winced slightly, presumably at the thought of destroying the
ring. “You put me in impossible positions on a
regular
basis, Mr. Stark. It’s part of my job
description.”
She bit her lip again, obviously thinking, then spoke slowly.
“All right. Let’s do
this.”
He couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his
face.
“In that case, we’d better formalize
it.” He
drew her hand forward. “Virginia Potts, will you do
me the
honor of--”
Her free hand landed on his mouth, cutting him off.
“Not. Another. Word,”
she said sternly, eyes wide with panic. Tony snickered and
nipped
at her fingers, and Pepper yanked both her hands away and stood up with
a huff.
“First of all, we need to construct a consistent
story,”
she began, smoothing one hand over her hair distractedly. Her
phone began to ring again, and Tony rose as well.
“Let me handle that, I’m sure I can come up with
something. You can confirm things with PR and start the ball
rolling.”
“Agh.” Pepper took a deep breath, spine
straightening. “All right.” She
nodded once,
sharply, and lifted her phone to her ear once more.
“Hello--”
Tony got out of her way, heading down the stairs to his workshop and
peeling off his jacket as he went. By his guess they would be
leaving the mansion shortly all the same, but for the moment he
didn’t have to be formal. He draped it over his
diagnostic
chair as he passed, and dropped onto a stool and began
pondering.
The temptation was there to just wing it, to make up some outrageous
tale and see if the media and everyone else would swallow it.
Not this time,
genius.
It wouldn’t be fair to Pepper, and while there were plenty of
times where he’d gone ahead anyway, this time was
different. For
one thing, she’s doing you--and Stark Industries--a huge
favor.
For another, she was going to be under a tremendous amount of
stress. Tony grimaced, wondering if he’d really
done the
right thing in going along with Jarvis’ suggestion.
Pepper
had a great poker face, but she didn’t lie well, and nothing
about their faux engagement was going to be easy for her, at least in
public--
Public.
We’re
going to have to act engaged in public.
The grin that he could feel spreading over his face was positively
unholy, Tony knew, but he made no effort to stop it. Instead,
he
reached for paper and a pen.
It was almost forty-five minutes before he heard Pepper coming down the
stairs. Scribbling a last couple of notes, Tony ripped the
page
off his scratch pad and looked up to watch her come into the
shop. To his expert eye she looked no less stressed, but more
in
control, which didn’t surprise him at all; Pepper functioned
best
when she had a plan of attack. “How’d it
go?”
She raised her brows. “Okay. PR has a
bare-bones
press release going out now and I have Cedric in the main office
triaging calls for the moment. Legal is already moving
against
Wells Fargo concerning the leaked photos.”
“Tell ‘em to go easy if the bank gives up the
employee,” Tony interjected. “That had to
be a
personal move, not a corporate one.”
Pepper nodded. “I agree, but there’s no
recalling
them now, they’re out on the Internet as well as the major
news
services.”
Tony shrugged. “Since we’re confirming
instead of
denying, it doesn’t matter, though remind me to see about
putting
together a file-specific virus for future use... How many
interview requests have we got?”
“So far? Thirty.” Pepper
grimaced. “More than half want both of
us.”
“Makes sense.” Tony grinned at
her.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to come
out of the
shadows for a bit, Ms. Potts.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up his jacket, shaking it out.
“Have you got a story for us?”
Tony waved the paper. “On the principle that simple
is
easier to remember, we’ve been dating secretly since I got
back
from Afghanistan--six months is a nice round number--and this past
weekend I bit the bullet and asked you to marry me. And we
went
to the safe-deposit box to pick up the ring,
natch.”
“Under the radar, good,” Pepper approved.
“Am I going to keep my job after the
wedding?”
She was smiling, getting into the spirit of the thing, and Tony relaxed
a bit more. “For the stockholders’ sake,
I certainly
hope so.” He glanced at his notes.
“I figured
it was better not to set a date, though.”
“That sounds wise.” She lifted a
finger.
“I also got a call from your attorney. He
wouldn’t
tell me why he wants to meet with you, so I’m guessing he
wants
to discuss a prenup.”
“Big surprise.” Tony stood up, turning
his back so
that Pepper could help him into the jacket. It
wasn’t
something she’d done until he’d come back hurt and
needed
the assistance, but even after he was healed she’d kept the
habit, and Tony wasn’t about to stop her. He loved
feeling
her breath on the back of his neck, and her hands smoothing out the
wrinkles over his shoulders as he settled the garment.
“Well, I think you can trust me to be generous, Ms.
Potts.”
He expected a sardonic comeback, but behind him Pepper laughed as he
put his arms into the coat. “I honestly
wouldn’t
expect anything less from you, Tony.”
Her tone was gentle, and he straightened his lapels and
turned.
Pepper wore a soft little smile as she reached out to adjust his
tie. “When it really matters, you can be amazingly
generous. It’s one of your finest
traits.”
Tony had to curl his hands into fists to keep them from settling on her
hips. He cleared his throat. “Careful,
Potts,
you’ll ruin my rep.”
She snickered and stepped away gracefully, heading for the
stairs. “Time to go, Mr.
Stark.”
As they neared the front door, Pepper slowed. “Can
we tell
Happy the truth?” she asked, looking pained.
“I
really don’t want to lie to him.”
Tony smirked. “He probably figured it out after
yesterday
anyway. I think we’d better let Rhodey in on it
too, or
things will get really awkward.”
“Like they’re not already?” Pepper
muttered, and opened the door.
Hogan was waiting outside the limo, which had one door swung wide like
a wing, and as they emerged he straightened from his lean against the
vehicle. Tony bounced down the stairs ahead of
Pepper.
“Morning, Happy. How bad is it at the
gate?”
“Thick,” Hogan replied easily, touching his cap to
Pepper
as Tony ducked into the vehicle. “But the SI
security Ms.
Potts called for is in place, so we shouldn’t have any
trouble
getting out.” He shut the door as Pepper climbed
in, and
went to the front.
“Good, good.” Tony leaned forward as the
chauffeur
settled into his seat. “Listen, given
what’s happened
this morning we’ve decided to roll with this thing for the
moment, so as far as you’re concerned our engagement is
real.”
Hogan glanced at the rear view mirror, his gaze finding Pepper, and
apparently she gave him whatever reassurance he was looking for,
because he nodded. “Got it, sir. How long
have you
two been a couple?”
Tony sat back. “Six months. I finally
came to my senses and asked her to marry me.”
Beside him, Pepper snorted, and Hogan grinned.
“Wise of you, sir.”
The divider hummed up behind Hogan’s head and the limo pulled
forward. Tony poured himself a scotch and relaxed,
satisfied. Happy was legendary for his silence; over the
years,
Tony estimated, his chauffeur had been offered almost three-quarters of
a million dollars, total, to spill information about Tony or Stark
Industries, and he had refused every time. Loyalty like that
can’t be bought.
He glanced over at his PA, who was now texting busily. And it’s priceless
when you find it...
As Hogan had said, the crowd outside the mansion’s gate was
considerable, a mix of paparazzi and the curious, but the SI security
team had them well-cordoned. The limo slid through without a
hitch. Tony sipped his drink and considered the day
ahead.
The crowd outside company headquarters would be worse, that was a
given, though there again Security would be in place to handle
things. Tony ran down a mental checklist of probable
events--certainly a videoconference with the board of directors,
possibly a press conference--and sighed. Responsibility’s a
bitch.
As they neared their destination, Tony broke off his reverie and turned
to Pepper. She had set down her BlackBerry and was staring
out
the window, her right hand worrying absently at the ring on her
left. He felt a rush of tenderness at the sight, a feeling
he’d only recently learned to recognize. It was
coupled
with an odd sort of regret.
Fuck.
I wish this was real.
“You do realize,” he said, keeping his voice light,
“that we’re going to have to make this
believable.”
Pepper stopped fidgeting and turned to face him.
“Hmm?”
Tony glanced out the window. The limo was rolling into the
Stark
Industries front driveway, and it was as bad as he’d
foreseen--there had to be at least twenty security guards holding back
the crowds. The mass of people started to sparkle as flashes
went
off.
“If we’re engaged, Potts, that entitles us to
public
displays of affection. Starting as soon as we get out of the
car.” He jerked a thumb at the paparazzi.
“They’re going to expect it.”
Pepper blinked, and a flush began to climb up her throat.
“I...is that really necessary?” Her
fingers twisted
together.
Tony grinned at her. “We can start small.
I won’t kiss you until we get up to the
office.”
She sputtered, and the limo glided to a stop. Tony sat up as
one
of the guards reached for his door. “Showtime, Ms.
Potts. Put your game face on.”
The door swung open on her muffled protest, and Tony got out, ignoring
the cameras and the calls with the ease of long, long
practice.
But instead of heading straight for the building and trusting that his
PA would be right behind him, he waited as she slid across the seat,
and took her hand to help her rise.
He was proud of her. Despite her dismay seconds before,
Pepper
looked as cool and collected as always, and they moved smoothly towards
the front door as if they’d rehearsed it a dozen
times. The
fact that her muscles tensed beneath the hand he settled on the small
of her back was evident only to him.
They swept into the huge lobby, leaving the crowd outside, though there
were a few people moving around besides the usual front-desk
security. Some days Tony stopped to talk to whoever was on
duty,
but today he kept moving, straight towards the elevators.
Pepper
paced him perfectly, her face calm, as though the stares from every
employee they passed didn’t exist at all.
As the elevator doors closed behind them, she let out a sharp
breath. Tony glanced sideways at her and let his fingers
circle
soothingly along her spine. “So far so
good.”
Her glare was not muted by the fact that she was still facing the front
of the elevator. “I understand the necessity
of...this, but
next time--“
The elevator stopped, and she bit off her words. Only one
person
was waiting, a young intern as fair as Pepper who stepped in
automatically and then blushed a vivid crimson when he realized who
else was occupying the car. He was clearly too intimidated to
say
a word, and Tony let it go rather than distress the poor kid
further.
Two floors later the intern was gone, scooting out through the doors as
if pursued. Tony waited until they closed again before
speaking. “You were saying?”
He still hadn’t removed his hand, and he wasn’t
sure if
Pepper was being cautious or was just too distracted to take
offense. She sighed. “Never
mind.”
Tony let one corner of his mouth curl up. “Nervous
about that kiss?”
Pepper sniffed dismissively. “That would be highly
unprofessional in the workplace--“
She really was
rattled, he thought with amusement. Since when have I ever been
professional?
The doors opened on their floor, and they stepped out in
tandem.
The path to Tony’s suite and Pepper’s adjoining
office was
straight through the main floor, whose open plan housed a handful of
top support staff. Given the mid-morning hour, most of the
seats
were occupied, and a low mannered hum of voices kept the big room from
silence.
As they traversed the expanse, though, heads lifted, and a slow patter
of applause began, spreading to fill the room like rain and punctuated
with a whistle or two. Tony grinned widely, and beside him
Pepper
blushed again, shaking her head at the smiling workers and smiling
back.
“Looks like they approve,” Tony said in a low
voice, waving to acknowledge the tribute.
Pepper shook her head again. “It’s
terrifying.” Her voice was dry, but edged with
humor.
They made it into his office, and Tony closed the door behind them
knowing that they had about three minutes before someone would want
Pepper’s attention. She apparently had the same
thought,
glancing at her watch. “Cedric’s going
to--“
Tony cupped the back of her head in one hand, ignoring her startled
jerk, and kissed her. Nothing too intense, just a warm easy
touch
that conveyed affection rather than sex. Her lips were soft,
and
cooler than he expected, and instantly made him want more, but Tony
kept it to three seconds. Releasing her, he stepped back and
gave
her a small smirk. “How’s that for
practice?”
Pepper’s eyes were wide with outrage. “Tony--“
She--quivered
was the only word for it, he decided--with anger and surprise and
presumably the desire to punch him.
“Did you really want our first kiss to take place in front of
an
audience?” He strolled towards his desk.
“Now
that’s out of the way and we don’t have to worry
about
it.”
Tony collapsed into his chair and looked back at where she was still
standing near the door, and licked his lips. “You
still
taste great, though.” He winked.
Pepper growled, then closed her eyes and regulated her
breathing.
Tony watched, still amused--his comment about an audience was perhaps
unfair, but it was logical, and Pepper throve on logic.
“Cedric will have a list for me shortly,” she said
in very
measured tones. “And you’re an
ass.”
“Guilty, Potts, but you know I’m
right.” He
watched as her eyes opened in a glare. “Just think
of all
the fun you’re going to have jilting me when we call it
off.”
Pepper’s lips tightened further. “The
day’s
schedule will be on your desk in fifteen minutes.
You’ll
have to decide about some of the interviews, so don’t put it
off.” She whirled and headed for the door, her back
very
straight. Just as she reached it, she glanced back.
“And I’d assumed that you would be the one doing
the
jilting. You’re not known for your
fidelity.”
She opened the door and was through it and gone before Tony could
move. He stared at the spot she’d occupied,
astonished at
how badly her words had hurt.
Okay...I guess
she’s a little more pissed than I thought.
He clenched one fist, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and tried to
figure out why she was that
angry. He’d taken advantage, he knew that, but he
hadn’t expected to do more than ruffle her feathers like
usual.
Maybe I should
stay out of her way for a while.
The wisdom of his choice was borne out when the schedule was carried in
by Cedric, who put it down, pointed briefly to the various sticky flags
poking out along the edge, and waited. Tony was used to the
man
by now--Cedric spoke to Pepper all the time, but almost never to Tony,
though the latter had no idea why. He didn’t bother
worrying about it; Pepper didn’t, so he figured it
wasn’t a
problem.
He picked up the schedule and scanned it quickly. A
videoconference with the board in half an hour, then a few smaller
meetings after lunch with Legal and the microengineering
section.
Notes in Pepper’s precise script told him that the time in
between the afternoon meetings could be filled with a couple of
interviews, and did he want her to attend?
Yes.
Tony
scribbled in addenda and handed it back. “Please
request
Ms. Potts’ presence at the board meeting as well,”
he said,
and Cedric nodded and took himself out. Tony sighed, and
pulled
up the pinball game on his computer. Half an hour
wasn’t
enough time to get involved in something more interesting.
Twenty-five minutes later he opened the side door in his office that
led to Pepper’s. She was on the phone, mostly
making
acknowledging noises, but when she saw him she straightened and held up
one finger in a gesture to wait. Tony leaned against the
doorframe and put his hands in his pockets, and watched her, listening
as she wrapped up the conversation. When she hung up and
sighed,
he walked forward to rest a hip against her desk, and opened his mouth
to apologize.
Pepper beat him to it. “I’m sorry about
what I said,
earlier,” she began, rubbing her forehead.
“I lost my
temper, and--”
Nettled, Tony took her nearest hand in his. “Stop
it.”
“I--what?” Pepper looked up at him, brows
drawing together.
“I’m the one who should apologize,” Tony
told her,
annoyed and amused both at being upstaged so neatly.
“I got
a little carried away.”
Her smile was sardonic. “Tony, you always get
carried away.”
He squeezed her hand and let it go. “Which is one
of the
many reasons I have you, and that fact is why the board is all happy
this morning. You’re coming,
right?”
She sniffed. “I think I’d
better.” But
the line between her brows was smoothing out, and Tony was relieved to
see it.
He stepped back as she rose. “For the record, I
really am sorry, Pepper.”
She picked up her BlackBerry and put it into her jacket
pocket.
“I know. And you did have a point.
Just...take it
easy, Mr. Stark?”
He gave her a Hogan salute, two fingers touching his temple.
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s what scares me,” Pepper sighed,
but the
dimple that accompanied her words made them a tease. Tony
grinned
and followed her back into his office, snagging a chair so that they
could both sit in front of the camera at his desk.
The board as a whole was clearly not expecting Pepper’s
presence,
but no one was stupid enough to object, and Tony spotted approval on
more than one face--especially those of the female members.
Tony
had done a little housecleaning after Stane’s death, but
replacing all the members was neither practical nor
desirable.
Nonetheless, he felt fairly confident that they would be eating out of
his hand that morning--or, to be more precise, Pepper’s
hand.
And he was right. It was fun to watch the powerful people who
helped run his company shower his putative bride-to-be with
compliments, and he didn’t feel terribly guilty about
deceiving
them. For one thing, it was still his company, and
for another...
I still intend
to end this with a real wedding.
Pepper bore up magnificently, answering questions with composure,
shunting a few to him. It was a good thing they knew each
other
so well, Tony thought as the meeting went on; they hadn’t
discussed how things would in theory change after they were married,
but the answers she gave were pretty much what he would have suggested
anyway. Pepper already knew how Stark Industries was run and
was
empowered to act as Tony’s proxy should he be unavailable, so
the
board was used to regarding her as a power in her own right.
“As my wife, Ms. Potts will share my controlling interest in
the
company,” Tony stated in response to one question.
“Beyond, of course, any stock she already
holds.”
Which was quite a bit, in fact, though nowhere near a major share;
stock options were part of the SI executive package, and while Pepper
was not exactly an executive, she had all the benefits of
one.
“What if a conflict arises?” asked one member,
raising her
brows. Tony turned his attention to her; Takayo Fukushima was
astute, no-nonsense, and someone he actually trusted.
“I’m sure any conflict between us can be worked out
in
private,” he said smoothly. “If not,
we’ll
cross that bridge when we reach it.”
Fukushima did not look convinced, but let the matter drop.
Tony
saw more than a few glances pass between members, and held back a
grimace. It was clear that his reassurance wasn’t
enough to
soothe everyone.
Too bad. They can suck it up, or they can leave.
On the whole, however, the meeting went well, and broke up for lunch
with many congratulations and best wishes. Tony watched
Pepper
smile graciously at the effusions, and made a mental note to add
another bonus to her next paycheck. Bad enough she has to put up
with me--
“Let’s go get some lunch,” he suggested
as they stood, but Pepper shook her head.
“I have too much to do. You go ahead, just make
sure to be
back in time to meet with Legal. I mean it, Tony, we
don’t
have time for you to be late today.”
“I know,” he sighed. “Are you
sure? ‘Cause we could make it
quick.”
Pepper chuckled as they headed for the door to her office.
“Your version of quick
is ninety minutes. I can eat in
ten.”
“That’s bad for the digestion,” Tony
began, then
trailed off as she opened her door.
“Whoa.”
Her desk was all but invisible under what seemed to be a dozen vases of
flowers, all different. Pepper’s eyes widened and
she
stepped inside, glancing back at him, and Tony raised his
hands.
“Wasn’t me. Though I wish I’d
thought of
it.”
“Yes, well...” Pepper shrugged, and he
understood
what she meant--they were playing a part, not the real thing.
She
plucked an envelope from the nearest explosion of blooms and opened
it. “Felicitations from Jack
Roberts.”
Roberts was the CEO of Robitech, one of Stark Industries’
competitors. Tony snorted, and Pepper smirked.
“He’s just being polite, Tony.”
“He’s a sore loser.” Roberts
had put himself on
Tony’s permanent blacklist by blatantly trying to hire Pepper
away every time they met. The last offer had been a position
as
vice president of finance, and Pepper had hesitated just long enough to
make Tony start sweating, though in retrospect he suspected she had
just been yanking his chain.
“He’s very nice.” Pepper
replaced the tiny card, her dimple showing again, and now she was yanking his
chain. She reached for the next one, and Tony
couldn’t resist rising to the bait.
“Maybe we really should,
just to keep you from running off to my rival.”
Tony
absently snared a card from a vase full of irises, recognizing the name
of a prominent senator.
Pepper snickered. “Tony, if I really wanted to
change
careers, being married to you wouldn’t stop
me.” She
scanned the card and replaced it as well. “However,
I like
my job, so you can stop glowering.”
“Mmm.” As Pepper took a third envelope,
Tony replaced
the one he held, then scooped up Roberts’ offering and
carried it
with him into his office. If Pepper noticed, she
didn’t say
anything, and Tony kept going into his private washroom. With
vindictive pleasure, he dumped the flowers in the trash and the water
down the drain, then mashed the blossoms into the wastebasket using the
vase. Roberts had a more than professional interest in
Pepper,
Tony was sure, and while she had never displayed any return interest,
the mere idea made Tony testy.
She’s
mine now, Jacky, and she’s going to stay mine.
Sneering at the crushed flowers, Tony dropped the lid on the container
and stalked out of the washroom, feeling better even though he knew the
entire thing was irrational. The suspicion that Pepper was
quietly laughing at him in her office didn’t mute the
feeling.
Dropping into his chair, he reached for his phone.
Thirty minutes later he returned to Pepper’s office carrying
a
large paper bag. She looked up from her computer, surprised;
the
vases were now neatly arranged on one of her cabinets.
“I
thought you went to lunch.”
“Nope, I had lunch come to us.” Tony set
the bag on
her desk and began unloading the contents--sandwiches and a salad, and
the bottled tea Pepper liked. “Figured it would
look bad if
I went out by myself and left my fiancée alone the first day
we
got engaged.”
The quirk of her mouth told him he wasn’t fooling her, but
her
eyes were crinkling with pleasure, and that was plenty for
him.
Tony handed her a fork. “Eat up, Potts,
you’ve only
got ten minutes.”
They took twenty, chatting easily about the board members and the
people who’d sent flowers, and he counted every minute
well-spent. When he went back to his office, though, her
voice
followed him. “I’d like the vase back, at
least...”
Tony sighed, and retrieved it from the trash.
It wasn’t until they were back at the mansion that evening
that
Tony brought up what he’d been thinking about off and on all
day. “If we’re supposed to be
engaged...shouldn’t you be living with me by
now?”
Pepper’s head snapped up from the report she was studying and
she
glared at him over the back of the couch. Tony swung one leg
over
the piano bench to sit sideways and held up his hands.
“Hey, I’m not suggesting that we share a bedroom
here--but
as you said, public perception’s an issue. This
place has a
dozen rooms--”
Pepper was already shaking her head.
“No,” she said
firmly. “I need my own space, especially
now.
I’m prepared to be seen as eccentric on this, Tony, but
I...have
to maintain a boundary.”
“Boundary? Against what?” Tony asked,
smirking at her, but her glare grew stronger.
“You’re pushing.”
“All right, all right.” Tony turned back
to the
piano, disappointment mingling with hope. Having her live at
the
mansion would make it easier to get her used to the idea of really
marrying him, but the fact that she felt there was something to guard
against was a good sign.
“Sorry.”
He heard Pepper sigh, and played a few bars of
“Imagination”. “The press may
catch on if you
never spend a night here, though.”
Papers rustled. “Let’s see what happens,
okay? It’s just the first day.”
Tony kept playing, saying nothing. He had a strong suspicion
that
the media was not going to let them alone until they got married, if it
did happen--he was just too big a story, and half the time there was
some third-stringer hanging around the mansion gates anyway, looking
for a scoop. But there was no point in arguing at the moment;
time would prove him right.
Or not, but he was pretty sure.
He looked back over at the couch, letting his fingers find the keys
with thoughtless precision. All he could see of Pepper over
the
back of the couch was the back of her head, but the sleek ponytail drew
his eyes all the same, making his dancing fingers itch to stroke that
shining fall of hair. It was a familiar allurement, and Tony
fell
into equally familiar reverie, imagining walking over there and bending
over to cup her chin in one hand and kiss her. In his fantasy
she
always kissed him back, letting her work fall aside and reaching up to
touch him--
Have you ever
felt a gentle
touch and then a kiss, and then and then, you find it’s only
your
imagination again...oh well...
Somehow the song seemed a bit too appropriate. Tony wound it
to
its wistful conclusion, then rose and quietly took himself downstairs,
away from temptation.
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