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.
Couldn't have done this without Cincoflex!
*********
In the interests of furthering their scheme, they’d begun to
go
out to eat once a week or so, putting up with the media attention that
was really the main purpose of such outings. They’d
dined
together in public before, though not anywhere near as often, but now
Pepper gravely scheduled in dinners at Malibu’s most popular
restaurants, and they made no effort to dodge the paparazzi.
Tony, used to their scrutiny, enjoyed the meals, but Pepper took a
while to loosen up. Tony figured she was just too used to
being
in the background.
The proprietors of the new local sushi restaurant, Tony found, were
smart people--he and Pepper were escorted to a good table in a quiet
alcove, and their server was attentive but not slavish. Four
weeks into the deception things were going smoothly--at least, in his
opinion; Pepper was still muttering about unsolicited wedding advice
from all and sundry. He watched her across the table as they
placed their orders, and sighed when she immediately became absorbed in
her BlackBerry.
He let her text two messages before reaching over and plucking the
thing from her hands. Pepper squawked, and Tony evaded her
grab
and thumbed the device off, stuffing it into his coat pocket.
“You’re off the clock, Ms. Potts. Time
for dinner and
conversation, not e-mail.”
She inhaled, and Tony braced himself for an argument, but then
Pepper’s lips tightened and she subsided.
“You’re right.”
Tony relaxed and gave her his most charming smile, though he
didn’t miss the annoyance that gleamed in her eyes.
She
would not be forgetting his move quickly. “Thank
you. So where do you want to go for our
honeymoon?”
The corner of her mouth quirked, a move he recognized as a stand-in for
rolling her eyes. “The Moon.”
She’s
in a mood.
“Low blood sugar, Potts?” he asked softly, smiling,
and
then leaned back with a shrug. “We might be able to
manage
that, but it’ll take me a while to set it
up.”
Pepper’s petulance faded as she regarded him.
“You’re actually serious, aren’t
you?”
Only about half, but part of his mind was already playing with the
idea. Propulsion wouldn’t be a problem, and that
gave him
an idea for a whole new branch of Stark Industries, but the life
support issues... Tony made a number of mental notes and
pulled
his brain back on track. Meeting her eyes, he told the
truth. “If that’s where you want to go,
Pepper,
I’ll make it work.”
She blinked, and dropped her gaze to the table. Tony frowned
to
himself. This was becoming a problem--they kept to their
personas
in public, but he at least found himself making statements that were
true for the real him as well, and the lines were definitely getting
blurred.
Pepper shook out her napkin, and laughed politely, glancing back
up. “No, that’s okay, Tony. Why
don’t you
just surprise me?”
No,
he wanted to say. No,
tell me what you want, the place you’ve always wanted to
go. I want it to be special.
“If you want,” he said lightly instead.
“Someplace...warm. With beaches. Nude
beaches,
possibly.”
Pepper snorted at that, and Tony relaxed, the odd tension
ebbing.
He grinned at her. “What?
You’ve got nothing to
be ashamed of in that department.” He gave what he
could
see of her a blatant ogle, though it only reminded him that he actually
didn’t
know exactly what she looked like under her clothes.
“You ever been to Ulavuta?”
Before Pepper could answer, another voice cut in.
“Pepper,
Tony, if I’d known you were coming here tonight I would have
called you.” Rhodey came up to the table smiling,
and
leaned down to kiss Pepper’s cheek as she smiled
back.
“We could have carpooled.”
“You mean you could have bummed a ride,” Tony said
cheerfully, scooting out of the booth and elbowing Rhodes genially as
he passed. “Sit down, we haven’t ordered
yet.”
He slid onto the opposite bench next to Pepper, secretly pleased at an
excuse to get into her personal space but also genuinely glad to see
Rhodes--busy schedules had kept them from seeing much of each other
lately.
Rhodey hesitated. “Am I
interrupting?”
Tony glanced at Pepper, but she shook her head.
“No,
Tony’s just putting up with the fact that I haven’t
eaten
since breakfast.” Her smile was truly apologetic as
she
looked back at Tony, and as Rhodes dropped into the seat Tony picked up
her hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Given what you put up with from me
on a daily basis, Pepper, I can deal with a bit of
whininess.” Her eyes narrowed at the mingled
compliment and
insult, but Tony raised their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a
quick kiss to the back of hers, half showmanship and half
affection.
Rhodes snickered. “You two are
sickening,” he said
easily, the gleam in his eyes betraying his enjoyment of their
playacting.
Pepper pursed her lips, but didn’t draw her hand away,
instead
letting it lie relaxed in Tony’s. He kept his hold,
looking
back to Rhodes. “Make up your mind fast,
platypus.
We’re both starving.”
Dining on sushi was the only time Tony ever saw Pepper eat what seemed
to him to be a reasonable amount. He wasn’t sure if
she was
concerned about her weight or just didn’t have a large
appetite,
but sushi was the exception either way, and he had to admit he rather
enjoyed watching her devour her selections with an expression that
bordered on bliss.
He’d kind of been hoping for an intimate evening, but instead
the
meal turned merry, the three of them laughing and teasing one another,
and Tony found pleasure in that too. Pepper gradually
loosened
up, and by the time she was stealing scraps off his plate he had his
arm behind her, Rhodey grinning at them over his sake.
“So how’s this thing going?” He
waved one hand
back and forth, eyes gleaming with amusement at the double
meaning.
Tony let his thumb stroke Pepper’s far shoulder.
“So
far so good. We’re still arguing about where to
have the
ceremony, though.” This was camouflage; Pepper had
refused
to book something that they would only cancel later, and Tony had
decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting. Part of
the
point of not declaring an actual date was avoiding the pressure to
begin preparations.
Rhodes snickered again. “I always figured
you’d just
run off to Vegas if you ever did get hitched.”
“Hitched?
Seriously, what century are you living in?” Tony
sneered genially at his friend.
“Better than ‘parson’s
mousetrap’,”
Pepper interjected, and both men looked at her with some
puzzlement. She was a little flushed from the sake, and that
and
her smile made her extremely kissable to Tony’s
eyes. She
laughed, and he was thrilled to feel her arm slip behind his back in
turn. “It’s a nineteenth-century
term.”
Tony shook his head. “You’re worse than
Jarvis.
What do you say, Pepper, how does Vegas sound?”
“A lot more practical than St. Paul’s
Cathedral,” Pepper sighed.
Tony blinked. “Who suggested that? Is it
even
possible?” London hadn’t been his first
choice of
possible venues, but if Pepper liked the idea...
She groaned. “One of the board members, and I
refuse to find out.”
All right, so
much for that one.
“Not that fond of England?” Tony knew
she’d
been there at least twice in his company, but she hadn’t had
much
time to sightsee.
“Not at this time of year.” She
grimaced.
“And as much as I’d love to make Tony get married
by Elvis,
Jimmy, I’m not up for Vegas.”
Rhodes bellowed with laughter, and Tony couldn’t help joining
in,
inexpressibly tickled by the idea. Pepper leaned against his
side
and smirked at them both.
“Oh come on,”
Rhodey finally choked out. “I’m begging
you, Pepper. That would be priceless.”
“Not worth it.” Pepper shook her
head.
“For one thing, no one would take us seriously
afterwards.”
“You’re right,” Tony agreed, sobering
slightly.
“I’m afraid we’re going to need more than
the minimum
number of witnesses to make this stick.”
“You make it sound like you’re setting up a
frame,”
Rhodes commented, still laughing. “Or an
alibi.”
“The great wedding caper?” Tony
suggested.
“Plenty of people won’t believe it
anyway.”
Rhodes shrugged. “Sorry, man, but you do have kind
of a
rep.”
That too stung, but again Rhodes was right. Tony’s
lips
tightened, but he kept his voice level.
“I’ll just
have to prove them wrong.”
Rhodey lifted his cup. “Here’s to you
both, then.”
They parted with him outside the restaurant, Rhodes loping off to the
parking lot while Happy pulled the limo up just down the
street.
Pepper hooked her arm through Tony’s as they strolled towards
the
vehicle, and he snugged her in close. The foot traffic was
light,
and if anyone recognized them it wasn’t obvious.
As they reached the limo, however, Tony spotted a semi-familiar figure
a little ways up the block. He swung her gently around so
that
her back was pressed to the car door. “Paparazzi at
nine
o’clock.”
She raised her brows, and Tony planted one hand on either side of her
and leaned in. The kiss was sweet and hot, and he found it
easy
to forget that they were putting on a show despite the flash going
off. Pepper’s mouth tasted of sake, and she slid
her hands
up his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him closer with an
eagerness that Tony dared to hope wasn’t entirely
feigned.
No, not entirely. He edged closer, feeling that live-wire
tension
between them, the way her breathing was speeding up, and bit back his
smile lest it break the kiss.
Finally their lips parted, and Pepper wasn’t the only one
breathing hard. Tony let the smile out.
“I think we
should do this every time we get in the car.”
She smiled back, her cheeks pink. “Did you arrange
for that reporter to be here?”
“No, but make a note to leak our itinerary to the
press,”
Tony shot back, amused and nettled. He straightened, and
Pepper
stepped out of the way so he could open the door for her.
She slid inside with practiced grace. Tony dropped down next
to
her and glanced up at Happy. “Pepper’s
place, then
home,” he instructed, and his imperturbable driver nodded and
raised the divider.
Pepper stretched and yawned, then covered her mouth with an expression
of surprise. “Oh! Excuse
me.”
Tony chuckled. “Long day,
Potts?”
Her expression was less sardonic than usual. “You
might notice, Mr. Stark, that you don’t exactly do short days.”
He leaned back, letting his arm fall across the back of the
seat.
Pepper didn’t seem to notice. “You sure
you
don’t want to stay at my place? It would save you
time in
the morning.”
Pepper shook her head, and smothered another yawn. Her eyes
were
closing, and Tony didn’t know if it was the sake, the
protein, or
just the long day, but it was obvious that she was falling
asleep.
He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her
sleep. Curious, Tony watched.
It took less than three minutes for Pepper to slump against the back of
the seat, her head lolling, and Tony inched closer, holding his breath
and hoping that the discomfort wouldn’t wake her back
up.
But when he slipped his arms around her and tugged, Pepper merely
sighed.
She was limp and warm and molded nicely to him when Tony gathered her
in. He settled her head against his shoulder and let himself
relax and enjoy the rare sight of Ms. Potts completely
unguarded.
As he half-expected, his libido was enthusiastic about this unscheduled
cuddle, but Tony ignored it. Somehow it was more important to
savor the moment, to examine the protective feeling that was welling in
him. Tony brushed a strand of hair out of Pepper’s
face and
bent his neck to inhale the faint vanilla that rose from her skin;
unlike many women of his past acquaintance, she didn’t douse
herself in perfume, but somehow her scent persisted, until he knew he
would know it anywhere.
It had been one of the things he’d dreamed of, in the
cave.
A ghost of smell that vanished on waking, leaving him baffled and
yearning...
The ride to her apartment wasn’t long, and Tony was tempted
to
tell Happy to drive around the block a few times, but decided in the
end that delay wouldn’t make it easier. But when
the limo
stopped and he looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, he
couldn’t resist.
Her lips were softer still against his, unresisting, warm. He
kept it gentle, a tender caress that woke her slowly. When
she
stirred and whimpered, Tony lifted his head.
“Wakey-wakey, Potts,” he said softly, watching her
eyes
open and blink up at him sleepily. “We’re
here.”
“Okay,” she said obediently, and Tony
smirked. She’s
still out of it.
Pepper sat up, apparently not noticing that she was leaving his
embrace, and Tony reluctantly opened the door and got out.
As the cooler night air reached her, Pepper seemed to wake a bit more,
and she followed him out, straightening without a wobble. But
her
eyes were still blurry, and Tony pulled her arm through his
again. “Come on, I’ll walk you
up.”
“I’m sorry,” she said as they entered her
building. “I don’t know why I’m
so
tired.”
“You work too hard,” Tony told her cheerfully,
nodding to
the guard at the front desk. “Maybe you should take
tomorrow off.”
Pepper straightened. “No, not this
week--”
Tony was badly tempted to kiss her again in the elevator, but she was
too awake, he decided ruefully. He’d gotten more
than
he’d expected that evening, and despite his generally pushy
nature, he didn’t want to ruin everything. Courting
someone, he was discovering, required a certain amount of restraint as
well as enthusiasm.
Pepper fished her keys out as they neared her door, and had no trouble
slipping them into the locks. Tony braced a hand on the
doorframe
next to her head as she turned the knob. “Going to
invite
me in?” he teased.
She muffled another yawn. “Not
tonight...”
He took pity on her sleepiness, and just pressed a quick kiss to her
cheek. If anyone was watching, they’d just have to
make up
their own interpretations. “Get some sleep,
Potts.
I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nodded, and opened the door, slipping inside and closing it before
he could get a real glimpse of her apartment. Tony waited
until
he heard the locks click into place, and then pushed off the wall,
heading back downstairs and humming thoughtfully.
Was that
progress? I think it was.
Pepper was her usual efficient self in the morning, greeting him
serenely when she arrived at the mansion, and Tony couldn’t
tell
whether she didn’t really remember the end of the evening, or
if
she was choosing to ignore it. Hell, maybe she just
doesn’t care.
Given that he was half-expecting some sharp words for that kiss in the
car, Tony was somewhat relieved, but her reaction--or lack
thereof--also left him a little confused. Pepper angry he
could
deal with, Pepper pleased was his goal--but Pepper unchanged left him
feeling like he’d set a charge to explode and seen it do
nothing
more than puff a little cloud of smoke.
Time to tap the
fuse.
He went along to work with no protest, and by mid-morning he had the
beginnings of a plan. By the time he finished lunch, he had
worked out the details, and all he had to do was wait until the proper
time to implement it.
He had a late afternoon meeting with R&D that ran over time,
and
rather than make Pepper wait around, Tony sent her a text telling her
to go home and let him play with the boys in peace. He knew
Happy
would get her safely there, and in the meantime he had reactor specs to
discuss.
But after the meeting, Tony gave his chauffeur very specific
instructions, and put his plan into motion.
There was one advantage to being notorious, Tony thought as he politely
held the building door for an elderly lady and slipped in behind
her. The security guard at the desk recognized him, asking
for ID
but not calling up. Which was a good thing, because Pepper
didn’t actually know he was coming.
He rode the elevator up with his hands in his pockets, wondering if he
should make enough noise to attract an observer, but as it happened
when he stepped into the hall there were two women talking just a
couple of doors down. He smiled cheerfully at them, and knew
by
the sudden buzz behind him that they too knew how he was.
He grinned to himself.
Perfect.
His sharp rap on Pepper’s door brought a muffled
“Just a minute,” and Tony waited, rocking on his
heels. He could feel her gaze on him through the peephole,
and
then the locks clicked and she pulled the door open, frowning at
him. “What--“
“Hi honey, I’m home,” he said cheerily,
and pulled her into a kiss.
Since they had watchers, he felt justified in making it a good one, and
Pepper let him, though the muscles under the hands he laid on her waist
were tense. Still, her mouth was sweet, and he chased the
hint of
lemon he found there until she pulled back, breathless. Tony
felt
more than a bit breathless himself, but he gave her his most charming
smile. “Sorry I’m
late.”
Pepper lifted her chin, and he braced himself for a scolding, but then
her eyes flicked right and she stifled it.
“You’d
better come in,” she said in a low voice.
Tony didn’t look back at their observers as he stepped into
Pepper’s apartment. She closed the door behind
him.
“Tony, what the hell are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer, too busy looking around. Her
place was
large, which was only right given the quality of the building she lived
in, and it was open and airy and filled with light, or would be if the
sun were still up. Tony loved it instantly; the
décor was
much softer than his own home, but it had a lot of the same feeling,
room to move and think without feeling lost. The carpet was
light-colored and thick, the furniture low and inviting, and artwork
made for glowing spots of color along the walls.
“Nice place,” Tony said admiringly. He
walked over to
look more closely at one print. “I didn’t
know you
were a fan of Matisse. You know, I think I have one of his in
storage--“
“You have three,” Pepper said in the measured tone
that meant she was annoyed.
“Tony--“
He turned back to her, raising his arms in a helpless gesture and
admiring the loose cotton pants and fitted t-shirt she wore.
“You won’t spend the night with me, so I figured
I’d
better spend one or two with you. People will start to wonder
when we’re getting the sex in, you know.”
Pepper blushed, red creeping up her throat to her cheeks and hairline,
though her severe expression didn’t change.
“And you
couldn’t discuss this with me first?”
Heartened by the fact that she hadn’t immediately kicked him
back
out, Tony smirked. “And give you a chance to veto
it?
No way, Potts.” He softened.
“Look, seriously,
we need to be seen spending more time in each other’s
company,
and the separation looks weird. I promise I’ll stay
snug in
your guest room, Pepper, no hanky panky.” He
winked.
“No matter how much I want to sneak in and snuggle up to
you.”
Pepper growled something he couldn’t make out, though it
sounded like snuggling
was part of it. “I don’t have a
guest room, Tony. I have a library with an armchair, and I
have a
couch. If you’re really determined to do this, then
you
pick which one you want.”
She stalked off into her kitchen. “Give yourself a
tour,” was tossed back over her shoulder.
Curious, Tony did. The living room was clearly the largest
space,
and held plants and books and actually looked lived in, with a sweater
draped over a chair and a coffee mug sitting on a low round
table. There was a small TV hung on one wall and an antique
lady’s desk placed in one corner, somehow not rendered
incongruous by the ultramodern laptop sitting on top.
The library turned out to be the smaller bedroom, fitted with shelves
that not only lined the walls but half-filled the room, leaving just
enough space for a cushy chair and a reading lamp. Tony
glanced
over the titles; the collection was eclectic, ranging from accounting
texts and mystery novels to computer manuals, children’s
books,
and the occasional romance novel. He had no doubt that they
were
organized within an inch of their papery lives--this was Pepper, after
all--but the pattern eluded him for the moment.
She was still in the kitchen when he emerged, so Tony kept going,
trying doors. Bathroom--very feminine in a restrained way,
though
he liked the ferns--linen closet, and finally-- Jackpot.
Unlike her living room, which was mostly cream-colored,
Pepper’s
bedroom was done in jewel tones, mainly greens and deep
blues. It
was dominated by a canopy bed that lacked a canopy; instead, Pepper had
trained some kind of climbing plant to wind over the frame, so that the
bed looked like it belonged in a fairy-tale garden. In fact,
he
instantly pictured her sleeping there, one hand under her cheek and the
dark blue comforter drawn over her shoulders, all sweet innocence
waiting for a prince’s kiss to wake her--
Not sure
I’m the princely type.
The doubt was sudden, and Tony stuffed his hands back into his pockets,
looking over the rest of the room with melancholy eyes. It
too
was feminine, but without being frilly--just a warm and welcoming space
that was at the same time private. The dresser and bedside
table
were dark smooth wood, solid and uncomplicated, and a pair of fuzzy
slippers lay discarded by the bed.
“I might have known you’d end up here,”
Pepper said
behind him, without much rancor, and Tony turned. She handed
him
a glass of lemonade, presumably the source of the flavor that still
lingered on his tongue.
“I really like your home,” he told her sincerely,
and took
a sip. The stuff wasn’t as sweet as he was
expecting, and
tasted somehow fresh.
“I’d offer you something stronger,”
Pepper said with
a nod at the glass, “but I don’t have
anything.”
Tony shook his head, and took another sip. “This is
fine. It’s really good,” he said after
letting it
slide down his throat.
Pepper made a small negating gesture. “Have you
eaten?”
“Didn’t get that far,” he
replied. “May I take you out to
dinner?”
She sighed. “It’s late, and I have stuff
here.
Come on back out to the living room and I’ll fix
something.”
He followed her back up the hallway. Her posture was still
stiff,
and Tony wondered if he should just excuse himself and go, but then he
discarded the idea. No.
I’m right, and besides, it’s time she got more used
to the idea of us being a couple.
So when they reached the living room, he took off his jacket and tie
and draped them over the back of the couch, then rolled up his sleeves
and sought Pepper out in the kitchen. It was a good-sized
room
for an apartment, with a breakfast nook that held a table and two
benches, and the window over the sink probably had a nice view during
the day.
Pepper had her back to him and was rummaging in the freezer.
Tony
waited until she closed the door, then cleared his throat.
“Can I help?” he asked humbly when she
turned.
For a moment he thought she would refuse, but then her mouth
quirked. “You can chop the green onions if you
want.
Cutting board’s there--“ She pointed at a
cabinet. “--and knives are in the
block.”
The onions were lying on the island, already rinsed to judge by the
droplets on the green stems, and he scooped them up and assembled his
tools before beginning his assigned task. In between stalks
he
watched Pepper, who was moving around the kitchen with the assurance of
someone who knew her space absolutely, pulling together eggs and cheese
and other ingredients. When he’d finished chopping,
Pepper
swept up his efforts and added them to her ongoing concoction, and Tony
returned to the living room for his glass of lemonade.
Pepper was just putting the dish into the oven when he came back, so
Tony sat down on one of the benches and waited. Pepper closed
the
oven, set the timer on her microwave, and sighed again.
Her face was closed when she looked over at him, but then her lips
twisted, a wry, sad look. “I’m sorry
I’m being
such a bitch,” she said, picking up a half-filled glass from
a
counter and walking over to slide onto the opposite bench.
“I’m not used to having other people in my
space.”
Tony considered her across the little table, the weariness that lay in
the corners of her mouth, and wanted to gather her up and soothe it all
away. All the more so because he knew that he, or at least
working for him, was a large part of the reason why she
didn’t
have many visitors. He lifted his glass.
“If this is
how you treat unwelcome guests, Potts, then I’m going to
wangle
an actual invitation.”
She sniffed, but smiled, if reluctantly. He grinned at her
and
went on. “It’s odd to think how long
we’ve
known each other, and yet this is the first time I’ve been
inside
your place.”
“There’s never been any reason for you to be
here,”
Pepper pointed out with dry logic as he drank more lemonade. “I manage
your
life, Tony, not the other way around.”
“Yeah, I know.” He couldn’t
quite articulate why it still seemed unbalanced to him. We’re friends,
aren’t we? he wanted to ask, but even that
didn’t quite cover it. “I like it,
though.”
“So you keep saying.” But she was
relaxing.
“I don’t suppose I can convince you to sneak off
into the
night, can I? If you leave through the parking garage you can
probably avoid any prying eyes.”
Her tone was half-teasing, and Tony slumped a little,
relieved.
“Not a chance. Besides, I sent Happy off--how would
I get
back home?”
Pepper rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Tony, I doubt
the couch
is very comfortable. And before you ask, no, I’m
not going
to trade with you.”
He wrinkled his nose in pretend hurt that held a touch of genuine
emotion. “I wasn’t going to, even if you
offered. What kind of gentleman do you take me
for?”
She snickered. “So many possible answers...I think
I’ll just let it go.” Pepper drained her
glass and
rose. “Do you want salad with your
casserole?”
He watched her go and savored his lemonade. It really was
tasty--he didn’t normally drink the stuff to begin with, but
it
somehow had an extra flavor he wouldn’t expect in what
amounted
to diluted juice with sugar in it.
When he finished the glass, though, and Pepper refilled it silently
from a pitcher she took from the refrigerator, Tony saw the lemon
slices floating in the liquid. Oh. She makes it
herself.
Just as she started making the salad, Pepper’s phone rang,
and
judging from the resultant conversation it was an old friend.
Pepper glanced over at him apologetically early on, but Tony just
wiggled his fingers at her and went on sipping, sitting back against
the wall with one leg propped on the bench. She was
interesting
to watch as she moved around the kitchen, the handset trapped between
her shoulder and her ear, her hands free to tear lettuce and slice
tomatoes. Tony eavesdropped shamelessly, figuring that if
Pepper
wanted privacy she could leave the room, or make him go, and amused
himself trying to figure out what she and her friend were discussing
from only Pepper’s side of the conversation.
She didn’t mention him, which disappointed Tony a tiny bit,
but she kept laughing, merry and warm, and it warmed him
even though he had no idea what was so funny. A savory smell
gradually filled the kitchen, and he felt his stomach start
rumbling.
Finally Pepper said goodbye and clicked off the phone.
“Who was that?” Tony asked.
She smiled, pulling salad tongs from a drawer and sliding them into the
wooden bowl now filled with greens. “My college
roommate. She’s back from overseas for the weekend,
otherwise I would have told her I’d call her back,
sorry...”
Tony waved off the apology. “Contrary to popular
opinion, I
don’t need to be constantly amused.” That
made her
laugh again, and he smirked. “What does she
do?”
That led to conversations about college, and they got through supper
trading tales of impossible professors and terrible classes.
Tony
had more stories, he thought, given that the engineering section at MIT
was never a group to let mischief lie idle; but Pepper had apparently
gotten up to a fair bit herself, and her retelling of how she and five
of her dormmates had stolen the hands off their university clocktower
had him shouting with laughter.
“I never would have guessed you for a practical
joker,” he said at last, still chuckling.
Pepper’s smile was demure and just a touch wicked.
“Only when the situation calls for it. Ask Philip
in
Accounting some time why no one down there ever pulled a prank on me
after the first time.”
“Scared of you.” Tony leaned across to
snag her empty
plate and stack it on top of his own. “You cooked,
I
wash.” Which was not something he did on pizza
night at
Rhodey’s, but here it just seemed fair somehow. Besides, at his place we just
eat it straight from the box.
“Most of it can go in the dishwasher,” Pepper said,
rising. “But if you want to do the rest, I
won’t
object.”
Cleanup took very little time. Tony made sure to get all the
eggy
residue off the casserole dish, knowing that on some level he was being
tested, and Pepper dried each utensil as he finished it and put them
all away. As she was hanging up the dishtowel, she glanced
back
at him. “Tony...you do realize you didn’t
even bring
a change of clothes, right?”
“Hey, I’m a genius,” he informed
her. “Be
right back.” At her front door he turned.
“No
fair locking me out.”
Pepper shook her head, and Tony winked again and closed the
door.
The hallway was empty as he trotted down to the elevator, and the
security guard--a different man than when Tony had come in--was the
only one in the lobby. Tony walked over to the
desk.
“There should be a package waiting for
me.”
The guard reached under the desk and hoisted a decent-sized cardboard
box onto the counter. “ID,
please.”
Amused and approving--alert security was what he wanted to see in
Pepper’s building--Tony produced his driver’s
license. The guard looked at it, nodded, and handed it back,
and
Tony picked up the box. Decades of dealing with servicepeople
told him that a tip would not be welcome in this case, so he merely
thanked the man and took his parcel back upstairs.
The door was unlocked, and Tony stepped inside and balanced the box on
one hip so he could throw the locks, then walked into the living room
to deposit it on the couch. “Potts, you need
lessons in
security, leaving the door open like that. Anyone could have
walked in.”
Pepper was sitting at her desk, and the dry look she sent over her
shoulder told him what she thought of his tease.
“What’s that?”
Tony fished his microlaser from his pocket and cut through the neat
tape job. “I got Happy to pack me some
stuff.”
Pepper twisted enough to rest her arm on the back of her
chair. “You had Happy pack you a box?
Tony, you have enough luggage to stock a store.”
“Yeah, but we’ve been lovers for six months,
remember?” he pointed out with what he felt was irrefutable
logic, opening the flaps. “I’d have stuff
here
already.”
The container held a selection of clothing, neatly folded, and the
toiletries kit Tony expected. He kept an emergency overnight
bag
on hand just in case--there had been times when he’d taken
off at
a moment’s notice, and he did like to be presentable
sometimes--and he’d told Happy to just dump the contents into
a
box and have it delivered to the apartment building.
But as he dug into it Tony felt the hard corners of a smaller box, and
looked down to see a package of condoms under the dress
shirt.
Since he hadn’t bought any since getting back from
Afghanistan,
they had to be an addition.
Tony felt his cheeks heating--not because his chauffeur had bought him
condoms, though it was interesting to note that Happy seemed to be on
his side, but because it felt...wrong. He wanted Pepper with
every fiber of his body, but he wasn’t about to try to seduce
her
in her own home, not when he’d come uninvited.
“What’s the matter?” Pepper asked, and he
looked up
quickly to see her frowning at him in concern. “Are
you
okay?”
“Fine,” Tony said brightly, and buried the packet
at the
bottom of the box. “Just fine. Um, what
do you do at
night?” Ouch.
“Before going to bed, I mean--”
Pepper’s lips were curling up. “Your ears
are bright red,” she observed.
Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Sorry,”
he managed, and opened them again, giving her a confident
smile.
“I’m just trying to figure out how to fit into your
routine.”
Pepper sniffed. “Tony, you don’t fit
people’s
routines, you crash in and let them sort things out in your
wake.” But she was smiling again.
“Usually I
check e-mail, do personal stuff online, a few chores, that kind of
thing. Read, maybe.”
“Personal stuff, or personal?”
Tony asked, raising his brows in mock hope.
“Bill paying,” Pepper said primly, though the
screen behind
her seemed to be showing a page full of shoes. “But
if
you’re bored there’s some DVDs in the cabinet under
the
TV.”
“Actually, can I raid your library?” Tony
slipped the
box flaps under one another and put the box on the floor next to the
couch. “What?” he asked at
Pepper’s look of
surprise. “I do read.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have any technical
journals. Sure,
go ahead.” Pepper waved one hand and turned back to
her
computer.
Tony took a while to study the shelves, trying to work out her system
of organization. Fiction
shelved by title, he decided at last, except for certain authors, and
series by title of the first book. Non-fiction by subject,
then
author. It seemed both convoluted and
logical.
When he returned to the living room, he was carrying a book on forensic
accounting, one about the race to the Moon, a thick paperback on Asian
economics, and two Heinlein juveniles. Pepper was still at
her
desk, tapping away and muttering under her breath, with slightly tinny
jazz flowing out of the laptop’s speakers. Tony
settled
himself on the couch and began reading.
He was almost halfway through Have
Spacesuit, Will Travel--a
first edition, he’d noted with some surprise--when Pepper
rose
and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later she
came
back with two bowls, one of which she handed down to him before taking
her laptop to the easy chair across from the couch.
It took Tony a moment to surface--it had been a long time since
he’d read that one--but when he looked in the bowl he
discovered
it held vanilla ice cream studded with small, sugar-dusted gummy
fish.
Not quite his favorite dessert, but close.
He looked up at Pepper, whose own bowl contained vanilla with hot fudge
sauce, to judge by the spoonful she was lifting to her lips.
“Thanks,” he said.
Pepper smiled at him around the stem of the spoon. Sighing
contentedly, Tony dug in.
The ice cream was long gone, and Tony was working his way through the
forensic accounting manual, when Pepper closed her laptop and stretched
absently. Tony didn’t turn his head, but he did pay
attention; Pepper at full extension was worth observing.
She let her arms fall and sighed. “I’m
going to call
it a night, Tony. I’ll find you some sheets and a
pillow,
and you know where the bathroom is.”
“Okay.” Tony closed the book and stood,
picking up
his bowl and taking hers from her hand.
“I’ll take
care of these.”
She shrugged. “All right.”
It was a moment’s work to put the bowls and spoons in the
dishwasher. Tony returned to the living room to find two
sheets,
a blanket, and two towels folded neatly on the couch, a pillow in its
case leaning against the stack. “Hey, no good-night
kiss?” he called in the direction of the hallway.
“Don’t push your luck,” was the answer,
and Tony
snickered and set about making up his bed for the night.
When he hadn’t heard anything from Pepper’s bedroom
for
thirty minutes, Tony closed his book again and got up to rummage in the
box for the equivalent to pajamas. Normally he slept in the
buff
when he slept in a bed, but obviously that wouldn’t work at
the
moment, so he pulled out an old sleeveless tee and a pair of boxers,
and went to investigate Pepper’s bathroom in greater
depth.
It too was tidy--of course--and scrupulously clean, though it carried a
hint of her perfume. The walls and tub were white, but there
were
touches of lavender everywhere, and two huge ferns in ceramic pots on
the shelf over the toilet. Tony found space for his kit and
undressed for a shower.
Pulling back the shower curtain, he found a neat array of bottles and a
sponge, but not the razor he expected. A safety mat hung on a
bar
at the far end, and he dropped it into the tub, pressing it down with
his feet. It felt odd to be so deeply in Pepper’s
personal
space, and he was absorbing every detail, hungry for
information.
Turning on the water, he soaked himself for a moment under the spray,
and then couldn’t resist investigating those
bottles. One
was shampoo; one was something called “creme
rinse”, and
carried the same faintly peachy fragrance he associated with her
hair.
The third was soap of some kind, and when Tony flipped open the cap the
delicate vanilla scent wound straight into his nervous
system. He
breathed deep, suddenly and vividly imagining Pepper in this very
space, long limbs and slender body bare and sleek and wet, smoothing
suds over her pearly skin.
And then he was there as well, reaching around her to take the sponge
and handle the job himself, and she leaned back against him and gave
him all the access he wanted--
Fuck.
A
singularly appropriate epithet. Tony looked down at his eager
body, and sighed. “You have two choices,
Stark,” he
murmured under the rush of water. “Deal with this
now,
or...”
...Or try to explain to Pepper that he’d had a wet dream all
over her couch. It wasn’t really a
choice.
Well, he already had the bottle open. And a vision ready to
hand, as it were...
Afterwards, he washed up quickly with his own soap, putting everything
back exactly where he’d found it and rehanging the mat as
soon as
he stepped out of the tub. Pepper had even left him space on
the
towel racks, and Tony brushed his teeth and hung up the damp towels and
padded back to the living room, ruefully aware that he wasn’t
sleepy at all.
The remaining books held little appeal, and Tony didn’t want
to
watch a DVD and risk disturbing Pepper. Half-heartedly he
opened
her laptop, back in its place on the desk, and then remembered the
music she’d been listening to. Why the hell doesn’t
she run it through her stereo?
Three hours later he’d adjusted her stereo system to pick up
a
wireless broadcast from her laptop, and between the junk he had in his
pockets and the toolkit he found in the front closet, Tony figured he
had a pretty good start on doing the same with her TV. And he
was
starting to wonder how hard it would be to rig up a better security
system--remote locks, maybe--and if he wasn’t trying so hard
to
get her to move in with him
he could copy Jarvis and set her up with her own AI.
For starters.
“Tony, what are you doing?”
He looked up, startled. The room was lighter than he
remembered,
and Pepper was standing behind the couch, looking adorably tousled and
sleepy...and baffled. Tony looked back down at the
screwdriver in
his hand. “Uh...upgrading.”
“Upgrading what?”
Pepper walked around the couch and approached him; she was wrapped in a
very worn flannel robe that hung almost to her toes, and from his seat
on the floor Tony realized that he really wanted to lean over and slip
his hands into the gap near her ankles, and run his hands up those
long, long legs hiding beneath the prosaic fabric.
“Right now? Your laptop.”
Pepper blinked down at the computer in his lap. Half of its
innards were distributed across her coffee table, and the hard drive
was next to his right foot. Tony could see various responses
flickering behind Pepper’s eyes, but he had a point in his
favor--he knew all her data was backed up nightly to a private server,
because he’d set it up for her himself.
Nonetheless, her lips parted in what looked like dismay, and he smirked
up at her. “What’s the matter, Potts,
don’t you
trust me?”
Her nose wrinkled, and then she laughed, suddenly cheerful.
“Demonstrably. Did you sleep at all?”
“Nope,” he replied, equally cheerful.
She shook her head. “I’m going to go make
breakfast. Please tell me you didn’t
‘upgrade’
my coffee machine too.”
“Not yet.” At her arched brow, Tony
looked hurriedly
back down to his project. “I’ll
just...put this back
together, okay?”
“You do that.” The hand that tousled his
hair was
unexpected, sending a thrill through him as she walked away.
Grinning to himself, Tony began the reassembly.
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