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: If you think you recognize the artist, you're probably right--and
I expect at least one of you to know him. *grin*
Yes, I
know, but I don't think there's anyone left to mind if I borrow him for
a little while.
Much love to Cincoflex,
without whom this would not exist!
*********
Rhodes turned up the next evening, striding into the mansion with his
eyes alight and curiosity in every line of him.
“All right,
Tony, what the hell’s going on? First I get your
mysterious
‘Play along’ message and then the next thing I know
the
whole world’s saying you two are
engaged.” He laid
his cap and jacket neatly over the back of the couch.
“Say
it ain’t so, Pepper--tell me you didn’t agree to
marry this
fool.”
Pepper rolled her eyes at his grin. “It’s
a long story, Jimmy.”
Rhodes reached out and grabbed her left hand to look at the
ring.
“Well, that’s not bad, Tony--at least
you’re doing it
right.”
Equal parts exasperated and amused, Tony knocked Rhodes’ hand
from Pepper’s. “You’re just
jealous that I
asked her first, platypus.”
“Don’t call me that,” Rhodes said
automatically. “Seriously, you two are
engaged?”
“No,” Pepper interjected, sounding just as
exasperated. “This whole thing is a
mistake.”
Rhodes raised his brows. “Do I need to get my
shotgun?”
Unexpectedly, Pepper burst out laughing. Tony stared at her,
taken aback. She shook her head and wiped her eyes.
“Sorry, sorry...”
Rhodes sighed. “Why don’t you all start
at the beginning?”
They ended up sitting in the living room as Tony explained the events
of the past two days. Soon Rhodes was laughing too.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You manage
to avoid so
much as a second date for years,
and then you get engaged by accident?”
He shook his head, putting his feet up on the low table in front of the
couch. “This is classic.”
“It’s
temporary,”
Pepper corrected. “Jarvis says that when things
have
stabilized a bit we can break things off quietly.”
Tony slumped in his chair. “Yes, well, as you can
see we
need to keep the real situation a secret.” He
didn’t
know quite why he was feeling annoyed; maybe it was Rhodes’
blatant amusement at the whole concept.
“Sure, sure.” Rhodes smirked.
“You know,
Pepper, this could be really good for you. How many guys are
going to try to catch you on the rebound?”
Pepper tossed a throw pillow at his head, a shot he blocked
easily. “I think Tony will have more to handle on
that
score. Iced tea, Jimmy?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Pepper nodded and rose,
and Rhodes
watched her leave the room before turning back to Tony and leaning
closer. “If you let her get away from you
you’re a
bigger idiot than I ever took you for.”
“If I let her get away from me, you can fetch that
shotgun,” Tony replied in a low voice, completely
sincere.
“This may not have been planned, but I know a good thing when
I’m hit over the head with one.”
Rhodes nodded once, decisively. “Glad to hear
it.” His smile sharpened. “You
better be
serious, though. If you hurt Pepper I’m going to
have to
damage you.”
Tony raised a brow. “You don’t think I
can be a good husband?”
“I think you’ve got no practice at being
anything,”
Rhodes replied, though his tone was gentle. “And if
you
break her heart you’ll lose her for
good.”
His words stung. Tony looked away, knowing Rhodes was
right. “I’m a fast learner,
Rhodey.”
His friend sighed. “I hope you’re fast
enough.”
It was surprising how quickly they settled into the routine of
deception. When he’d thought about it, Tony had
expected
their “engagement” to be more disruptive, but most
of the
people around them seemed to accept it easily. The press was
a
problem, but a careful ration of interviews seemed to help, and there
was something to be said for having one’s own private
security
force.
Pepper handled the raised pressure with her usual superb grace, which
only increased Tony’s admiration. Her workload grew
even
heavier, with more people pressing her for her
time as well as his, but the flip side was that he could interfere when
he felt like it--making her shut off her computer and leave the office
with him, for instance, without it being taken as abnormal.
Tony found he enjoyed playing the part of doting
fiancé.
It allowed him liberties that Pepper would never normally permit, such
as all the little touches he liked to indulge in, and it was fun as
well. For instance, one of the first things he’d
done was
order a daily delivery of flowers to her office. Partly
because
it seemed the right kind of gesture, and partly to show up Jack
Roberts.
And
there’s nothing she can do about it.
The thought gave him a wicked sort of pleasure, because he’d
wanted to do these things for months, ever since he’d gotten
back
from Afghanistan. Wanted to touch her, even just the fleeting
brush of his fingers on her arm, or the palm resting on her spine that
told other men that she was taken. Wanted to have the
absolute
right to look after her, no questions asked. Wanted her to
lace
her fingers with his, or lean over and brush a quick kiss across his
lips.
He wanted a lot more
than
that, of course, but it would do for a start, and Tony was intrigued by
the fact that Pepper hadn’t seemed to notice that he was
touching
her more often in private as well as where other eyes could see
them. Or maybe she had noticed and was just letting him do it
without saying a word. The uncertainty drove him a little
crazy,
but in a good way.
And she was adapting. That drove him crazy too, and definitely
in a good way. For instance, the second morning
she’d left
the door open when they’d reached his office, and then bent
down
and done the kiss thing in full view of Cedric.
Who’d
promptly blushed crimson and vanished, but by then she was already
straightening and heading for her own office, and Tony had to regulate
his breathing and admire her sense of timing.
Now, two weeks into their faux engagement, things seemed to be going
pretty well. He was still trying to figure out how to
convince
Pepper that getting married for real would be a good idea, but in the
meantime Tony was enjoying himself pretending that they were in a
romantic relationship. In fact, it was becoming increasingly
difficult to remember that they weren’t.
As they got out of the limo in front of the mansion, Pepper took his
hand as usual and let him help her stand, but then stepped pointedly
away. “No cameras, Mr. Stark,” she
murmured.
“You can relax.”
After a day of boring meetings--it was harder to blow them off these
days when he didn’t want to stay home and give up the chances
to
act the lover--Tony’s temper was a little short.
“What, a guy can’t be polite? My mom
would have
something to say about that, Ms. Potts.”
“I don’t think your mother would have
approved--” Pepper stopped short, and rubbed the
bridge of
her nose tiredly. “I’m sorry. I
had no right to
say that.”
And he was instantly torn, because she was correct, and yet he wanted her
to have the right, even though she had never met Maria Stark--wanted
her to have the right to be intimately snippy on occasion.
Tony sighed. “My mother wouldn’t have
approved of a
lot of things, but they got me where I am today,” he said
shortly, irritation mounting at the whole situation.
Actually,
his mother would probably have metaphorically slapped him upside the
head years ago,
but it was
not a thought he’d allowed himself to entertain
before. Nor
was the somewhat unpleasant conclusion that a lot of his former
behavior probably stemmed from the fact that she wasn’t there
to
keep him on the straight if not the narrow.
Pepper’s mouth twisted, a rather sad look.
“True.” And her eyes didn’t
have to flick over
his chest for Tony to know that she was thinking of his arc
implant.
His annoyance was completely irrational, he knew that, but he gave way
to it all the same. He stalked up the front steps to the door
and
let the scanner read his palm. “Coming? I
don’t
know about you but I have things to do tonight.”
Given that Pepper was shouldering the bulk of the workload, that was
patently unfair, but she didn’t riposte, instead just
climbing
the stairs behind him and following silently inside. Tony
stripped off his coat as he walked, balled it up and tossed it on the
couch just because he knew it bothered her, and headed
downstairs. “I won’t be up for
dinner.”
He didn’t quite dare look back. By the time Tony
had
reached the basement, he was already regretting his words--but not
enough to go back upstairs and apologize.
Anger slowly congealed into shame, but Tony still didn’t
leave
his work until well past midnight, and by then Pepper was long
gone. The plate of sandwiches he found neatly covered on the
kitchen table only added to his black mood, and he didn’t
sleep
well. He was running mostly on espresso by the time Pepper
reached the mansion in the morning.
She rapped on his open bedroom door, and her “Good
morning”
was imperturbably cheerful. Tony glared at her from where he
stood brushing his teeth at the sink; normally he didn’t feel
at
all self-conscious about confronting her in nothing but his boxers, but
his guilt was making him feel inadequate, and her perfectly-pressed
outfit didn’t help.
Pepper ignored his mood with sublime indifference. As he
finished
his ablutions she laid out a suit for him. “What
tie do you
want?” she asked, pulling socks from the appropriate dresser
drawer.
He grunted. Without so much as sighing, Pepper chose three
from
his closet and held them up, and Tony gave into the inevitable and
pointed at one. The last time he’d refused to
choose,
she’d scheduled him back-to-back budget meetings and given
Happy
the afternoon off.
Her air of repressed amusement was getting
to
him; nothing spoiled a good sulk like someone refusing to take it
seriously. Just to piss her off, Tony started pulling off his
boxers while Pepper was still in the room, but she merely walked out,
already tapping away at her phone.
He considered refusing to go into work at all, but he really did want
to talk to the nanocircuitry division, they had some ideas that might
apply to the armor, so he dragged himself out to the limo and brushed
Pepper’s hands away when she went to adjust his
tie.
“You’re in a mood,” she commented
offhandedly when
they were settled in the vehicle. “Did something
happen?”
Tony merely grunted again, and reached for the whiskey
decanter.
Pepper didn’t roll her eyes, quite, but she left him alone
for
the rest of the drive, which was what he told himself he
wanted.
Bad mood or not, though, he shifted into the expected role as soon as
they reached SI headquarters; there weren’t always reporters
outside any more, but any public appearance meant they had to be in
character. They walked inside and entered the elevator, which
was
empty; as it started to climb, Pepper finally spoke.
“The
gossip columnists were speculating yesterday that we’re too
distant.”
Tony stared at the elevator doors. “Want to make
out in public?” he said sarcastically.
Pepper eyed the floor indicator thoughtfully. “I
was
thinking more of lipstick on your collar, but if you
insist...”
Her words penetrated just as the elevator passed the third-to-last
floor. Tony started to turn, only to find Pepper’s
hands on
his lapels and her mouth on his. This was not a casual brush
of
lips--it was an actual
kiss,
sweet and hot and absolutely mind-blowing. Tony gave one
instant
to startlement and then let his mind blow, and kissed her back with
just as much enthusiasm, his hands finding her waist and pulling her
close.
The bell pinged. The doors slid open. Pepper let
him go and
stepped smoothly from his grasp, smiling just slightly, and
straightened his tie with an expert tug. “Come on,
Mr.
Stark,” she said, and took his hand.
Dizzy, Tony let himself be led past two marketing executives who had
been waiting for the elevator. Both were staring, and as Tony
recovered enough presence of mind to arch a brow at them, they looked
away hastily and hurried into the elevator.
No one else seemed to have noticed--at least, the noise level
didn’t change. Pepper deposited him in his office,
gave him
an amused, professional smile, and closed the door behind her as she
went to her own desk.
Tony collapsed into his chair, still stunned, the taste of whiskey
completely driven out by the taste of Pepper and his bad mood utterly
gone. Slowly he leaned back until he was staring at the
ceiling,
and grinned. Oh
yeah...game on.
“Care to explain that, Potts?” he asked later,
strolling
into her sanctum with his hands in his pockets and a counter ticking
down in his head. Pepper didn’t set aside the file
she was
reading, but she did glance up, her expression serene.
“Frank and Teddy are two of the biggest gossips in the
building,” she said easily. “I expect
that item to
hit the streets before closing bell.”
“How did you know they were going to be
there?” Tony sauntered closer.
“They always come upstairs first thing for the muffins Cho
brings
in on Wednesdays.” She made a note and turned to a
fresh
page.
“Your efficiency is terrifying.” He took
one hand
from his pocket and gently brushed Pepper’s ponytail away
from
the nape of her neck.
“Tony--” She glanced up at him.
“I know the idea annoys you but--”
The counter hit zero, and he bent and nuzzled the newly bared skin,
letting his mustache scrape gently over the fine hairs there.
Mmm...so
soft...
Pepper squeaked, just as the door opened and Cedric backed in with an
armload of cardboard lunch boxes. Tony took two more seconds
to
savor the goosebumps that were rising on that tender skin, then lifted
his head.
Cedric had just turned, and was becoming a nicely flaming
red.
Pepper cleared her throat, and Tony could see the curve of her cheek
pinkening. “On the table, please, Ced,”
she said
quickly, and her assistant hurriedly set the boxes down and took
himself out with haste.
She waited until the door closed before glaring up at him.
“Tony, what--”
He wrapped his fingers around the smooth, cool fall of hair and stroked
down it, careful not to pull. “Just doing my part
to
counteract the rumors.” Her hair had always held a
mild
fascination for him, one that had actually increased as soon as he
first touched it.
Pepper huffed, and stood, moving briskly away from him and around her
desk. “Cedric
doesn’t gossip, Tony.”
No, but he now
has proof to counter anyone saying otherwise.
“Oops.” Tony rubbed his beard
absently.
“What is it with him, anyway? He never talks to me
if he
can help it.”
She snickered. “You mean, you haven’t
figured it
out? You’re slipping.” Pepper
frowned at the
boxes. “I didn’t order
lunch.”
“No, I did.” Tony walked over to the
table and
started pulling off the box lids. “Let me guess,
he’s
got a huge crush on you. You want Caesar or
garden?”
“Caesar, and you’re half
right.” Her eyes
narrowed, and Tony could tell that she’d just figured out his
timing, but uncharacteristically she let it pass.
“Here you go then.” Tony held out a box
and a fork. “What half am I right
about?”
Pepper took the items and leaned back against the table, lips curling
up. “If I tell you, you have to promise you
won’t
make a big deal out of it.”
“Okay, fine.” Tony held up a hand as if
taking
oath. Cedric wasn’t on his list of people to
tease.
“And?”
“He has a crush on you,
Tony. One that, for some unfathomable reason,
hasn’t passed yet.”
Tony blinked. “Oh.”
The notion didn’t disturb him; it was hardly the first time
he’d had a male admirer, for one thing. His
surprise was
that he hadn’t noticed.
“Really? ‘Cause
it’s like he’s totally blank towards
me.”
“He’s trying to keep things
professional,” Pepper
said, her face softening with compassion. “So
don’t
give him a hard time about it, okay?”
“Hey, I promised.” Tony poured dressing
on the garden
salad. Cedric was an expert at moving under the radar, as it
were, and the man mostly interacted with Pepper anyway.
“Do
I pay him enough?”
Pepper laughed around a mouthful of lettuce, and covered her lips with
a paper napkin before swallowing. “He’s
happy,
Tony. Don’t worry about it.”
“Mmf.” Tony chewed greenery, knowing
there was a more
substantial sandwich in the third box. He liked salad, but it
wasn’t enough to keep him going for long.
Pepper chased a crouton with her fork. “The
photographer is
scheduled for tomorrow--do you want to work from
home?”
“Yeah, sounds good.” He fished for a
napkin.
Part of handling the media frenzy was giving them what they wanted, to
a degree. In this case, it meant formal engagement
photos.
“Hey, can you wear the thing you wore to the last holiday
party? Because, wow.” Tony leered
genially.
Pepper laughed.
She did not, to his disappointment, choose to wear the green velvet
concoction that had stuck in his memory, but nonetheless Pepper looked
lovely the next day, arriving at the house in a white blouse touched
with lace at the collar and a full skirt that rippled distractingly
around her calves. Tony surveyed her with both admiration and
honest lust, neither of which he bothered concealing--the first was
deservedly hers and the second was hardly a secret.
“You
look entirely edible, Potts.”
Pepper sniffed gently, smiling nonetheless, and smoothed the
forest-green fabric with an absent hand. “Please
tell me
you’re not planning on wearing that.”
Tony looked down at his tattered shorts and his “Aerospace
engineers do it with lift and thrust” t-shirt, smirking at
her
tease. “I suppose the sight of my legs might be too
much
for the susceptible.”
Pepper snickered. “That, and I think the glow
behind ‘engineers’ might show up a little too well
on film.”
“Yeah, well, it’s one of my favorites, I
didn’t want
to cut a hole through the words.” Tony looked her
up and
down again. “I wanted to see what you
wore--it’s more
fun if we coordinate.”
She gave him a cockeyed look.
“‘Coordinate’? Tony,
don’t you think
that’s a little...twee?”
“Hey, I’m just getting in the spirit of things
here.
Presenting a united front and all that.” Tony
winked and
went off to change into a suit.
He almost wore a tie the same shade as Pepper’s skirt just to
make her roll her eyes, but that was really too formal, so instead he
went for a shirt two shades darker--complementary but not
exact.
The corollary to having a woman around that made you look good was
making your woman look her best in turn, and he very much wanted the
world to see them as an established couple. Because the
thought
had occurred to them that the closer they seemed to be, the harder it
would be for Pepper to “jilt” him.
He’d already decided that there was no way he was going to
break off the engagement himself. The longer we’re in
it, the more time she has to get used to the idea.
Tony felt a bit guilty about manipulating Pepper, but he figured that
since she did it all the time to get him to stick to his schedule, he
was entitled to a bit of it himself. Besides, it’s not like
I’m going to force
her to marry me. Nobody ever forces Pepper Potts to do
something she truly doesn’t think is right.
Like raiding Stark Industries’ own servers for information
incriminating its CFO. Tony fastened his cuffs, remembering
that
strained argument in the workshop, Pepper’s refusal to act
until
she was satisfied with his reasons. Of course, if
he’d
known then what was going to happen...but there was no changing the
past, and things might have turned out worse if she’d quit
and
left.
Hell, I know
they’d have been worse for me.
The memory shifted forward a fraction, to her grudging, almost
embarrassed confession that he was all she had. Tony
hadn’t
had much time to think about her statement then, but in the months
since he’d replayed her words, trying to interpret
them. He
knew Pepper had no family left, but until then he’d never
really
thought about what that meant for her. She had friends,
certainly, both at the company and outside of it, but... It’s not the same, and
you know it.
None
better.
He wondered suddenly if she missed the family times that he had finally
let himself remember--dinners, vacations, hugs, the simple solid
security of love. From what little she’d said over
the
years, Tony guessed that her family had been a good one, her parents
loving and her childhood unmarred, but he wondered if that just made
the losses harder when they came, the loneliness deeper.
I’m
tired of being alone.
And if he had his way about it, neither of them would ever have to be
alone again. He couldn’t tell if Pepper really did
love
him, but if it were at all possible he would persuade her to
it.
Tony shrugged into a suitcoat, leaving his shirt unbuttoned at the
throat, and went to find his fiancée.
She was chatting with the photographer in the living room, handing the
woman a glass of iced tea from a tray that held a pitcher and two more
glasses. Tony could smell the lemon, and it made his mouth
water. He smiled at both ladies as he came in.
“Vee,
you’re more gorgeous every time I see
you.”
Vralia Penn was famous for her shots of celebrities, and Tony had
worked with her before. He liked her sharp wits and sharp
tongue
as well as her efficiency, and the way she would snub him when he
flirted with her; it was all in good fun, since she was very publicly a
lesbian, and to them both it was just a game. Tony reminded
himself to tone it down this time, however; game or no, it was bad
manners to banter quite so openly in front of one’s
betrothed.
Vralia, a tall bony woman with grizzled hair, smiled and lifted the
glass. “Congratulations, Stark. Though
it’s a
crime to take Ms. Potts here off the market.”
Pepper chuckled and handed Tony a glass as well; she and Vralia shared
a mutual respect, and she never seemed to have a problem with the
woman’s blatant compliments. “I think
you’ll
find that the common opinion is the other way
around.”
Vralia snorted. “Playboys are a dime a dozen,
especially in
this town. Glad you’ve got sense, though,
Tony.”
He sat down next to Pepper on the couch, letting his fingers find hers
and playing absently with the now-loose ring.
“Occasionally. No dog-in-the-mangering,
Vee--I’ll
tell Jen on you.” He’d known
Vralia’s partner
of sixteen years longer than he’d known Vralia
herself.
The photographer snickered and drank from her glass.
“She’d agree with me.” Setting
down the tea,
she rose and reached for her camera case. “We can
start
right here--you’re good just as you are.”
Tony felt Pepper’s fingers tense slightly, and let his thumb
rub
soothingly over hers. “How is Jen, by the
way?”
“Preggers and loving it.” The camera
Vralia lifted to
her face eclipsed her smile. “I’ve never
seen someone
so happy to lose her cookies. It’s downright
weird.”
Tony snickered as Vralia began snapping photos.
“Just as
well--I can’t see you being the
mommy-to-be.”
“Too old,” Vralia said, grinning, “and
you’re
right.” She lowered the camera for a
moment.
“Stark, sugar, kiss your girlfriend, she’s looking
way too
uptight.”
Pepper made a faint sound, but her only objection was a flash of panic
in her eyes when Tony leaned in. He winked at her and closed
the
distance, cupping her face with one hand and taking her mouth in a slow
sensual caress that had her first stiffening slightly and then
relaxing. He let his tongue taste her bottom lip and then sat
back, enjoying the pink on Pepper’s cheeks and cocking a brow
at
Vralia.
The photographer grinned again and kept shooting.
“Much
better. I’m thinking pseudo-formal here, very crisp
images
but with an intimacy behind them. Almost studied, but not
quite.”
“I trust you, Vee.” Tony savored the
delicate flavor of Pepper that still lingered.
“I suppose this means no more topless shoots,” Vree
added,
and Tony barely held in his flinch. “Too bad--want
to
consider letting him do it, Pepper? The set we did for Cosmo six years
ago was really something.”
Pepper managed a wry smile. “I think it’s
early days yet,” she said smoothly.
Vralia lowered the camera and popped out the film, exchanging it for
another roll. “Well, we could always do a set of
you,
too--that skin of yours would be spectacular. Or a paired
nude
sitting. You’d knock the Europeans on their
asses.”
Tony was instantly fascinated by the idea of Vralia’s
artistry
applied to Pepper alone, particularly to what he suspected was truly
glorious nudity. He looked over at her, smirking.
“What do you think, Pepper? Want to take it all off
for
Art?”
She gave him her best unamused look. “That would
hardly do my reputation any good.”
“Maybe private then,” Vralia said, snapping the
camera
shut. “Let’s move this out to the
terrace, I like the
light there.”
The sun was on the other side of the house, so the light on the terrace
was indirect though bright, and Vralia posed them with the sea behind
them, Pepper sitting on the low wall and Tony leaning on it next to
her. “Speaking of kids,” the photographer
said as she
began shooting again, “how long are you planning on waiting
before you start?”
Pepper’s glance was as startled as his own, Tony thought; the
topic hadn’t even come up as an issue that might need to be
addressed. She rallied quickly, however.
“Perhaps a
year. Things are still very...busy right
now.”
“Suppose so.” Vralia changed
angles.
“That reminds me, Stark, Pop Mechanics was after me to get
you to
do a spread with the armor. I told ‘em to call you
but they
said they already had.”
Tony wrinkled his nose, secretly relieved at the shift in
topic.
“I turned them down--how many times is it now,
Pepper?”
“Three,” she answered promptly.
“The last time
I sent along a dictionary with a Post-it on the definition for
‘no’.”
Tony had to laugh, and Vralia’s hoarse chuckle chimed
in.
Pepper smiled sweetly, and Tony hoped that Vralia caught it, because
whatever else, he wanted a picture of that to keep--the edge of fun in
her proper expression, the intelligence behind her eyes.
“Engineers.” Vralia shook her head in
mock sadness. “They never can take a
hint.”
“We just like a challenge,” Tony shot back silkily,
glancing at over at Pepper. As he expected, she blushed, and
Vralia cooed appreciatively.
“Oh yes, that’s it. Sugar, this is going
to be great.”
Pepper saw the photographer out when she was finished, and Tony took
off his jacket and started lunch, listening to the women’s
laughter with a sensation he could only label contentment. He
liked this feeling of domesticity, the pretense that he and Pepper were
comfortably intimate enough to appear so on film...and he had to admit,
Vralia’s suggestion of a private shoot of Pepper was very
intriguing indeed. Maybe
I can talk her into it someday.
It wouldn’t even have to be nude; a collection of Pepper in
various poses around the mansion would be almost as
delightful.
“Sure you don’t want to take her up on her
offer?” Tony asked as Pepper entered the kitchen.
She sniffed, apparently taking it as his usual banter, and reached for
a towel. “Tony, you’re going to get sauce
on your
shirt. Lunch is my job...”
Tony plucked the towel from her hands and tied it around his
waist. “Not today, Potts. Relax,
it’s hard to
mess up spaghetti.” He stirred the sauce he was
defrosting
in a saucepan. “I’m serious,
though. Not nude,
necessarily, but Vee does excellent work, you know that. And
you
photograph really well.”
“Tony--” Pepper glanced over her shoulder
at him, her
hand reaching into a cabinet for a box of spaghetti noodles.
“Have you forgotten this is just
temporary?”
He shrugged, irritated at the reminder. “I
know. That doesn’t invalidate the
idea.”
She chuckled, and closed the cabinet door. “I
couldn’t afford her. And what would I do with them,
anyway? You’re the narcissist in this re-, ah,
partnership.”
Pepper crouched down to retrieve a pot for the noodles--and, Tony
suspected, to conceal her chagrin at her verbal slip. One, I’d pay for them,
and two, you could give them to me,
Pepper.
But he had sense enough to keep those thoughts to himself.
“I’ll just have to give you another raise,
then.” He admired the way her skirt pooled around
her,
vivid against the smooth floor.
His PA chuffed and straightened, moving to the sink to fill the pot and
hand it to him. “You just gave me
one.”
“And your point is?” The banter was easy,
familiar. Tony turned the burner on under the noodle
water. Maybe
I could make it a Christmas present.
She just sighed, and collected silverware from a drawer. Tony
grinned, stirring again. “By the way, how many kids
are we
having?”
Pepper snickered, laying out forks. “Oh, two at
least.”
“Twins?” He turned to eye her lean
frame.
“Not sure you’d have room for more than one at a
time.”
“You’d be surprised.” She
folded a couple of
napkins and set them in place. “But admittedly it
would be
easier to have them singly.”
Tony contemplated the idea of Pepper pregnant. It was hard to
imagine, comical almost, though the idea gave him a warm and protective
feeling. “Seriously, do you want kids? I
mean, are
they on the list of things you want in your life?”
She looked up, surprised, though he couldn’t tell if it was
at
the question or the fact that he was the one asking it.
“I
guess...the topic hasn’t been on my mind much
recently.”
“Still waiting for the right guy?” Tony asked,
forcing himself to keep his tone light.
She laughed. “Still waiting for enough time.
As Ms. Penn and her partner are proving, one doesn’t
necessarily
need a ‘guy’ to have children these
days.”
“You have to have one involved at some
point,” Tony riposted, nettled.
“It’s a moot point right now
anyway.” Pepper
shrugged. “I’d rather raise kids with a
partner than
without one.”
Well, Tony thought, there was one way to make sure she had no children
that might take her away from him--keep her busy. It was not
an
entirely satisfying solution.
“What about you?” She cocked her head,
regarding him
with faintly shy interest. “Do you want
kids?”
He blinked. “Hadn’t really thought about
it.” Which was odd, but there it was.
Children had
always been an abstract concept labeled later,
and even Yinsen’s gentle question about family had only made
Tony
look to the past and present, not the future.
“They’ve never been...an ambition...of
mine. Though I
suppose if my parents were still alive they’d be bugging me
for
grandchildren.”
“Undoubtedly,” Pepper agreed with a curl of a
smile.
“Don’t you...I don’t know, want to leave
the company
to somebody?”
“’The company’, you make it sound like
something with
a mind of its own,” Tony said dryly, making spirals in the
sauce
with the spoon. “And no...I’m not sure
that I
do.” He thought for a moment.
“Maybe when we
have Stark Industries moving in a better direction...maybe then
it’ll be something worth inheriting.”
Pepper nodded, and he knew she understood.
The proofs were delivered by special messenger three days
later.
Pepper brought the envelope down to the workshop, and Tony spread the
sheets out on a worktable, whistling softly at the sight.
Pepper
leaned over for a look. “Wow.”
Tony grinned. “We do make a very handsome couple,
Ms. Potts.”
Vralia’s genius had come through. The images were
intense
in color and very crisp, producing an effect of something just a little
more real than reality, as it were. The shots of them on the
couch were almost casual, the two of them smiling as if in
conversation, but the terrace photos were stunning. Tony
nudged
the print of the two of them facing each other, Pepper’s
crossed
ankles peeking out from the hem of her skirt and Tony leaning one hip
against the wall. Vralia had posed them, so Tony had
Pepper’s hand in his, lifted between them, and his head was
just
slightly bent as if he were about to kiss the back of it, though his
eyes were on hers. It was ridiculously romantic, and he
thoroughly approved. “I like this
one.”
Pepper shook her head. “She’s
amazing,” she said quietly.
“So are you.” Tony admired the way her
skin and hair
all but glowed in the picture, then looked up to admire the satin sheen
of that same hair in the bright light of his workshop.
Pepper turned her head away, and Tony smirked.
“Which ones
do you want?” she asked, clearing her throat
slightly.
He surveyed them for a long moment, then shrugged.
“Get
copies of them all. And release these to the
press.”
He separated out three of the terrace photos, including the romantic
one.
“Are you sure? That’s kind
of...”
“I’m sure. They’ll eat it up,
Potts.” Tony looked at it again, realizing
belatedly that
the expression in his eyes in that particular shot was not at all
pretense. So
what.
And suddenly he wondered what had been behind Pepper’s
expression of reserved pleasure.
Pepper sighed, and stacked the proofs together.
“Yes, Mr. Stark.”
“That reminds me.” Tony sat back down on
his stool as
Pepper slid the photos into their envelope. “I got
a call
yesterday from Allan Tierney wanting to know about the
portrait.”
Pepper looked up at him. “I’m sorry, what
portrait?”
Tony shrugged slightly, trying to appear casual.
“The
wedding portrait. You haven’t heard of
Tierney?”
“Oh--you mean the artist who did your mother’s
picture?” Pepper pursed her lips
thoughtfully.
“I didn’t know he was still
alive.”
The portrait in question hung in what passed for a den, a
heavy-furnished room that currently went unused. Maria Stark
smiled down from over the mahogany desk, her cloud of dark hair and
vivid eyes rich and compelling against a crimson background.
Tierney had captured her earthy beauty and charm as well as her
intelligence, and Tony occasionally slipped into the room just to look
at the oil painting and remember.
“Tierney did my grandmother too. He was ancient
when he
painted Mom, but he’s still around. He wants to
know when
he can start on yours.”
Pepper gave him a puzzled look. “Why are you
bringing this
up? There’s no need for a portrait of
me.”
He turned one hand up. “No, but he really wants to
do
it--kept going on about it being tradition and all that.
I’m not sure I have the heart to turn him
down.”
Her skeptical expression was eloquent. Tony gave her his best
pleading look. “Come on, Pepper. What
would it
hurt? You’d make an old man happy, and
it’ll be just
one more proof that we’re serious.”
“It’s--unnecessary.” But she
was wavering, he
could tell. “And no doubt
expensive.”
Tony cast his gaze theatrically at the ceiling.
“Since when
does a price tag matter around here? Besides, given what our
engagement is doing to SI stock prices, it seems to me that
you’re entitled to a little of the
profits.”
“Tony, where would I put an oil portrait? That kind
of
thing is meant for big rooms.” Pepper put a hand on
her
hip, shaking her head. “Besides, the stock price
will fall
again when we end this thing.”
“Not that much, that’s the whole point.
And we could
keep it here and you could come by and look at it.”
He
grinned, and Pepper smiled reluctantly at his silliness.
“Look, it’s optional, but seriously,
Tierney’s really
excited by the idea.”
“I’ll think about it,” Pepper said in a
driven tone,
but she was still smiling, and Tony let her go and made a mental note
to schedule the first sitting.
After all, he
wanted a portrait of her. No matter what happened.
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