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.
*evil grin* You trust me, don't you? Yes, the boat
names
are jokes; one should be fairly obvious, but the other is truly
obscure, so don't strain your brain.
Cincoflex
puts up with my whining, my insecurities, and my procrastinating.
There is no better beta, or friend.
And she made the banner!
*********
Tony rested his chin on his fist and stared at his computer
screen. Despite the light coming over his shoulders from his
office windows, he was tired, and that made it hard to
concentrate.
It had been a long week. He’d had not one but two
missions,
heavy ones, though without much physical injury; a minor crisis with
the teletonics division and a sudden spasm of worrywarting on the board
had sent him into endless meetings that had made his strained muscles
ache more despite his ability to slump in almost any chair.
Even without the bruises and bumps, flying the suit for a great length
of time still left him stiff all down his spine.
It was an inherent flaw in the human form, he had eventually
decided. We
just aren’t designed to fly.
The most aerodynamic position for flight was belly-down, but to see
where he was going without installing a helmet-cam meant Tony had to
keep his head tilted back, which eventually threw everything out of
whack from the base of his skull down.
Of course, he could let Jarvis handle things, and on occasion he did
lower his head and relax for a bit, but it went against the
grain...
It was a good thing, he thought wearily, that he had a massage
scheduled for the evening. Tim had hands half again as large
as
Tony’s own with equal fineness of touch, and charged an
obscene
rate, and Tony would have paid him triple that without blinking because
the man could untie knots that Tony didn’t know he even
had.
And, used to working for eccentric celebrities, Tim never questioned
why he was only allowed to enter the room when Tony was already lying
on the table, nor why he never worked on Tony’s
front. Tony
sometimes got the feeling that he personally was a lot less difficult
to work with than some of Tim’s other clients, despite those
eccentricities.
But even a good massage couldn’t take away all his
fatigue.
Tony knew he was stressed, and Friday or not, he was just about done
in.
Sighing, he closed the files he was staring at and sat back.
Right now he didn’t know what he wanted more--a nap, a drink,
or
that backrub.
Or quality time
with my fiancée. And not the kind of
time most would suspect. He’d barely seen Pepper
all week, and he missed her.
As if summoned--or maybe it was just her perfect sense of timing--a
brisk rap on the door heralded Pepper’s entrance.
She held
a demitasse and a thick folder.
“My hero,” Tony said, eyes fixed on the
cup. “You brought me caffeine.”
“And memos,” Pepper agreed, halting just to the
left of his
chair and handing him the cup. The folder she placed on his
desk,
opening it so that the first page confronted him.
“Sign
them all now and I have a surprise for you.”
Tony paused in his absorption of blessedly hot espresso and raised his
brows. “Is it the dirty kind of surprise?
Because I
saw you with that lingerie catalog last week...”
Pepper gave him her trademark haughty look. “No,
and sign first.”
Tossing back the last of the coffee, Tony took the pen she was holding
out and obeyed. Most of it was mindless, the sort of
bureaucratic
paperwork that required no thought, but he paid attention anyway
because Pepper wasn’t above slapping his hand if she thought
he
was skipping something he should actually read.
Pepper remained, leaning back against the edge of his desk, and since
she’d left his door open partways Tony let his left hand
wander
up to her outer hip, just resting there in a touch more familiar than
intimate.
When he’d finished signing, he tossed down the pen, flipped
the
folder shut, and looked up at her. “Done.
Gimme.”
She smiled down at him. “I’ve moved
Tim’s
appointment up to 3 p.m., and the yacht is scheduled to leave at
6. The estimated return time is Sunday
evening.”
“Sweet!” Tony sat up,
energized. “Pack
your bikini, Potts.” The idea of having Pepper
mostly to
himself for plus-two days was very alluring.
Pepper hesitated. “I was planning on meeting you
tomorrow, actually--“
“Absolutely not,” Tony said firmly.
“You’ve been working just as hard as me--harder,
really. You need a break too.” He took
her hand in
his, fingers finding the engagement band in a silent signal.
It
was loose now, but Pepper was scrupulous, and never took it off in
public.
“Well--all right, I think I can move things
around.” Pepper bit her lip, then nodded
absently.
“Good. Bikini. Don’t
forget.” Tony
lifted her hand palm outward so that he could brush a kiss over her
fingertips.
Her hand quivered in his before she pulled it deftly away.
“I don’t own one. Don’t forget
to stock up on
sunscreen, or I’ll have to stay in the cabin all
weekend.”
Pepper scooped up the folder and the demitasse and slipped gracefully
away, leaving Tony to rock back in his chair and grin.
“I
can solve that problem, Pepper, what color would you
like?”
She didn’t deign to answer, merely closing the door behind
her. Tony sighed, pleased, and wondered if she would actually
wear one if he got it for her.
Five hours later they were chasing the sunset out on the open water,
the sea breeze washing away Tony’s fatigue and whipping color
into Pepper’s cheeks. The Y Not? was small
and required only a crew of three, but it was nonetheless the last word
in luxury, if not quite technology.
Tony leaned against the rail and watched the wind tangling
Pepper’s hair as she looked dreamily out to sea.
She would
never admit it, but Pepper loved the ocean as much as he did, which was
one of the things he
loved about her.
He stroked his hand along the glossy rail, remembering again.
He owned a much larger yacht; the Epsilon
Indi III
was a successor to the one his parents had sailed for many
years.
And the bigger boat had seen much more use in recent years, its many
staterooms and numerous staff making it much better suited for the sort
of parties he’d been in the habit of throwing.
But the Y Not?
had been a
gift from Tony’s parents, which was why he
hadn’t traded it in on a newer model. And it was
perfect
for a weekend getaway.
“Hungry?” he asked finally, and Pepper turned to
look at
him, her mussed hair a charming contrast to her business
suit.
Her eyes were sparkling.
“Getting there,” she said cheerfully.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yep.” The massage had eased his kinked
muscles, and
while Tony still felt tired, he was much more relaxed.
“Do
you want to eat on board, or wait until we get to
Avalon?”
“Oh, let’s have a snack now.”
Pepper stepped
back from the rail and turned towards the low table and chairs set out
on the deck. “I’ll ask
Jacques.”
Tony watched her go to find the steward, and stretched, yawning a
little. Her gait seemed a bit off, but that was because she
had
already removed her shoes and stockings, and that told him that she
felt herself to be off the clock, at least mostly. One of the
effects that being on the water seemed to have on Pepper was to make
her want to go barefoot.
Not that Tony minded. As much as he loved the way her heels
shaped Pepper’s stance and walk, the sight of her bare feet
always did something pleasurable to his middle, something that partook
equally of lust and protectiveness.
He went to take a seat, stretching out his legs and enjoying the
view. I
haven’t done this in too long.
It was hard to make time for relaxing, these days, and his newfound
conscience wouldn’t let him ignore as many duties as he once
had. But Pepper could hardly have picked a better day to
start
their mini-vacation, and Tony deliberately shoved away the thought of
duty. Knowing Pepper, she had informed Stark Industries that
they
were to be contacted only in case of emergency.
Pepper returned within moments, taking a chair next to his with a sigh
that spoke of the same relaxation. Soon after, Jacques
appeared
with a champagne bucket and two glasses. Judging from
Pepper’s blink, she hadn’t ordered the aperitif,
but Tony
nodded in approval, and the steward opened the bottle deftly.
After pouring, he disappeared again, returning with a tray of crudites
and other nibbles, which he slid onto the table.
Tony sipped his champagne and watched Pepper select something to
munch. Jacques, Captain Petrov, and the cook Honey were all
long-time employees, and appeared to be glad to have something to do
again. “Tell Honey we’ll be eating on
shore tonight,
but we’ll need at least breakfast and lunch
tomorrow,” Tony
instructed the steward, who nodded and left.
“What do you have in mind for tomorrow?” Pepper
asked.
Tony shrugged, and leaned forward to capture a shrimp puff.
“You said you wanted to go snorkeling. Or if the
weather’s not right for that, we can go find someplace to
surf.”
She shook her head, smiling. “Tony, this break is
supposed to be for you.”
“For us,” he corrected, catching her
eyes.
“Like I said, you’ve been working too hard
too. You
deserve the time, Pepper.”
Unexpectedly she pinkened, and looked away. Tony ate his
puff,
not sure what this change in their dynamic meant. Normally
she
would brush him off with some statement of how he wasn’t
paying
her to take a vacation, but that sort of riposte had disappeared during
the last six months.
He thought
her blush was a hopeful sign, but he wasn’t sure.
“We’ll see,” she said finally, and drank
more
champagne. Tony had to wonder if it was his attention
specifically that troubled her, or just if after so many years spent
taking care of him practically twenty-four-seven she was out of the
habit of letting herself be cared for in turn.
Be
fair. It’s not something you’ve done a
lot of.
Well, he was willing to put in the practice, if only she would let
him.
Pepper set down her glass. “I’ll be right
back,” she murmured, and stood.
Tony finished his champagne, put his glass next to hers, and stared at
the sunset, waiting for her to return. The colors made his
eyes
ache, so he closed them.
“Tony...”
The voice was low and laughing, but he didn’t want to
wake.
Tony held still, grumpily hoping it would go away, but a hand shook his
shoulder.
“Rise and shine, Mr. Stark. We’re
here.”
Groaning, he summoned speech. “Go away, Potts,
I’m
asleep.” In fact, he was actually quite cozy,
wrapped in
something warm.
“No, you’re hungry. I could let you sleep
out on deck
all night but you wouldn’t thank me in the
morning.”
Tony pried one eye open. Pepper stood over him, lit more by
artificial light than the last streaks of color in the sky, and now
dressed in slacks and a curve-hugging sweater. Her hair was
brushed smooth and lay on her shoulders in a glossy fall, and her eyes
were alive with mirth.
“I could just stay here,” he suggested.
“And
you could feed me. You know, grapes and
stuff.”
She shook her head. “You’re hard enough
to deal with
now, Mr. Stark. I’d rather not let you get a
cold.” She bent down, and then ripped his blanket
away with
a flourish. “Come on.
Dinnertime.”
The chill was acute. Tony grabbed for the blanket, missed,
and
pushed to his feet, grumbling. “I need to
piss.”
Apparently unfazed by his bad mood, Pepper merely stepped back, folding
the blanket neatly. “Just don’t do it
over the
side.”
Relieving his bladder helped Tony’s state of mind slightly,
but
he grimaced at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands.
The
light in the yacht’s head never showed anyone to the best
advantage, but at the moment he felt old as well as tired, his head
aching a little. He rinsed out his mouth and told himself it
was
just the fact that he hadn’t eaten, on top of the weariness,
but
he wasn’t sure he believed it.
But the way Pepper smiled when she saw him come out chased away some of
the drag. She held out a hand. “Shall
we?”
Dinner turned out to be great. Tony made Pepper choose the
restaurant, so they had local seafood at a place known more for its
menu than its ambience. If anyone recognized Tony, they had
the
grace to keep it to themselves, though the low light and the back table
probably helped, and Tony stuffed himself on fresh fish and watched
Pepper delicately pick apart a lobster.
It was good to just share a meal with her, far away from the pressure
of their lives, he realized, sipping from his wineglass and laughing at
the story Pepper was telling about a comedy of errors at her first
job. Tony reached across the table and took her hand in his;
not
interrupting her story, just holding on. The ring was cool
and
textured under his thumb, and he listened and smiled and pretended that
it was all real.
We have two
days. I’m going to make the most of them.
The next day was sunny and warm and perfect for snorkeling.
Tony
woke feeling much more relaxed than he had in weeks, and found Pepper
already up on deck, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and a huge, silly,
floppy hat. “Honey’s making
breakfast,” she
said when he emerged. “Did you sleep
well?”
He nodded and sat down next to her. Their engagement ruse had
required a bit of subterfuge, but they had sent the crew ashore the
night before to sleep on land and Pepper had taken the guest cabin next
to the master cabin, leaving enough of her possessions in his room to
make it look as though they were sharing it. The guest cabin
was
to remain locked whenever the crew was on board, with the excuse that
Tony had brought along a project that needed to remain
secret.
Petrov and the others, used to his eccentricities, hadn’t
even
blinked.
“I thought you were on vacation,” he said mildly,
nodding towards the laptop she was holding.
Pepper shrugged. “Just sorting
e-mail.” She
closed the computer and set it aside as Jacques appeared with the
coffeepot.
As the steward poured, the yacht’s engine started
up.
“Captain Petrov says we should reach our destination in about
twenty minutes,” Jacques said, straightening.
Tony considered, then shook his head. “Tell him to
take the
long way. It’s a nice day, we might as well enjoy
it.”
Jacques nodded and left, and as the yacht pulled away from the dock
Tony sipped his coffee, looking forward to the morning.
Pepper yawned and stretched, a process that fascinated Tony; her
clothes were modest, but the way she arched her arms and back pulled
the cloth taut and displayed her assets nicely. Tony sighed
to
himself, and smiled into his cup, because just about any other woman
would have done it on purpose. Pepper, he suspected, just
didn’t consider the effect she might be having on
him.
He wasn’t sure whether to be insulted, or flattered that she
trusted him that much.
Jacques came back with breakfast and set it out on the low table,
omelets and toast and fresh fruit, delicious smells mixing with the
breeze as the Y Not?
cleared
the dock area and headed towards more open water. Pepper
thanked
him with a smile, and Jacques gave her his tiny bow and disappeared
again.
Tony leaned forward to fill his plate, watching Pepper do the
same. It felt good,
this leisurely time; peaceful. They ate in easy silence,
taking
their time, and Tony couldn’t help imagining it as a habit
rather
than a single event--a common way to spend the weekend when they got
too overwhelmed, taking the time to just be together, far from
distraction and work.
“Too bad we can’t stay out here forever,”
he commented as he finished his omelet.
Pepper smirked, sipping coffee. “You’d be
bored silly in three days.”
She was right, but he didn’t have to admit it.
“I beg to differ, Ms. Potts. I’m already
silly.” When she glanced over at him, he crossed
his eyes
and wiggled his ears, scrunching up his mouth. She sputtered
into
her cup, and he relaxed and grinned.
“I didn’t know you could do
that.” Pepper wiped
her mouth with her napkin. “With your ears, I
mean.”
Tony shrugged. “I’m just naturally
talented.” He couldn’t remember a time
when he
hadn’t known how; even when small he’d realized it
was a
good way to impress people, particularly girls.
She grinned. “Yeah, but can you kiss your
elbow?”
Tony scoffed. “That’s a myth, Potts,
nobody can do that.”
“I beg to differ,” she mocked, and...did.
Tony’s eyes widened as Pepper lifted her left arm and bent it
at
an impossible angle, letting her lips touch the delicate point of her
elbow.
Half of his mind was screaming that she’d broken her arm, and
the
other half was absolutely boggled. “That is one of
the
weirdest things I’ve ever seen,” he
marveled.
“And the coolest.
How did you do
that?”
Pepper straightened her arm and shrugged.
“I’m
double-jointed. Though I can only do it on that
side.” Her smile was teasing.
“My grandmother
used to tell me that it was a sign of fairy blood.”
“I could see that,” Tony said, regarding
her.
Pepper’s beauty wasn’t what he’d call
unearthly, but
she’d definitely enchanted him.
Pepper’s ears pinkened, and she poured him more
coffee. “I’m going to go change
clothes.”
She stood, leaving her hat on the chair, and Tony sipped from his cup
and watched her go, smirking at the thought of the three bikinis
he’d left on her bed. Black, white, and
green. Plenty to choose from.
Much to his disappointment, when he returned to the stateroom to
change, Pepper had chosen none of them, and was instead dressed in a
simple navy one-piece maillot--not the most modest suit he’d
ever
seen, but still too practical for his tastes. Tony pulled his
shirt off over his head, and Pepper paused with her hand on the door
handle. “What are you going to do about
that?” she
asked, nodding towards his arc implant.
“It’ll show
through a wet shirt.”
Tony raised a brow. “Ye of little faith,
Potts.” Opening a drawer, he took out a circle of
metal no
wider than his palm. “Observe.”
He snapped it into place over the reactor, blocking the glow
neatly. Tony opened his hands, inviting comment, and Pepper
smiled.
“Very clever. Is it
watertight?”
“Not really.” Tony tapped it.
“But that doesn’t matter, the reactor seal
is.”
Her lips twisted a little. “The implant will still
be visible when you get out of the water.”
He shrugged, resigned. “There’s nothing I
can do
about that, but we should be pretty private where we’re
going. It’s not like anyone will be able to tell
what the
lump under my shirt is,
anyway.”
“True.” Pepper’s expression
still seemed
slightly sad, but she pulled down the handle.
“I’ll
meet you on deck.”
Tony spun so his back was to the door, just in case Jacques was in the
passageway; when he heard the latch close, he rummaged for his swim
shorts and a loose black t-shirt.
Pepper was rubbing sunscreen onto her arms when he made it back on
deck, and Tony grinned at the sight, coming up behind her to pluck the
tube from her grip. “Here, let me help you with
that.”
“Tony--“ She glanced back at him,
surprised, and he
winked and squirted a generous amount of the cream into his
palm.
“Hold still.” Applying sunscreen to a
woman’s
skin was a familiar task, and Tony had often made it foreplay; but this
time he kept it light, massaging the lotion into the exposed skin of
Pepper’s back and neck, feeling the wings of her
shoulderblades
under his palms but not lingering. It was fun to slide the
tips
of his fingers just under the edge of her suit and feel her skin pebble
up, and when he was finished with her back Tony went to one knee behind
her to cover the backs of her legs as well.
“I can do that myself,” Pepper protested as he
stroked his
hands down the length of her thighs, and Tony snickered.
“And deprive me of my fun? No
way.” He’d
yearned for years to explore Pepper’s legs, and while this
wasn’t quite what he’d envisioned, it was still an
opportunity to be savored. Her skin was sleek and cool, and
the
gentle curve of her bottom so close tempted him to lean in and nibble,
but Tony behaved himself--even if the image of her jump and squeak of
outrage was nearly irresistible.
He did permit himself a quick kiss on the nape of her neck when he
rose, though. “All done.”
Pepper turned and raised a brow. “Your turn
then.”
“Sure.” He handed her the tube and stood
waiting. Pepper’s lips tightened, but she took the
silent
challenge, and to his pleasure she squeezed out a dollop and started
with his arms. First one, then the other was stroked by her
strong hands, and Tony realized he might have made a slight
miscalculation as his body took a very eager interest. But he
didn’t move, letting Pepper finish.
She circled behind him and did his legs as well, rubbing vigorously,
and Tony held still and tried to regulate his breathing. When
she
came back around, Pepper smeared a generous streak across his
cheekbones. “Rub that in,” she told him,
and capped
the tube.
He complied. Pepper went to the rail as the Y Not?
slowed to a stop in a quiet cove just off the island. Tony
didn’t snorkel often, but he knew it for an excellent spot,
one
not known to many tourists.
They spent a glorious morning in the water. There was plenty
to
see and enjoy, and they took their time, cruising along the surface and
taking in whatever came their way. It didn’t
surprise him
when they quickly devised their own system of hand signals, most of
which meant “look at this”;
and even though he couldn’t see her smiling Tony could tell
Pepper was enjoying herself. She was an alluring sight
underwater, her lithe form outlined with light and her hair floating
around her head, and Tony thought he could see where the old ideas of
mermaids came from--unearthly beauty from the depths of the
ocean.
Lunch was ready when they climbed back on board the yacht, and they ate
on deck in the sunshine, letting the breeze dry them. Pepper
looked wonderful above water too, her face a little pink despite the
sunscreen and her lips slightly swollen from the snorkel, but her eyes
bright.
It was after lunch, when she was finishing her lemonade, that he saw
the little launch approaching. The flash of sun on glass
alerted
Tony to the camera pointed in their direction--one large enough to have
a telephoto lens.
“Press off the port bow, Potts,” he murmured,
taking the
glass from her hand and setting it aside before rolling over onto her
chaise. Captain Petrov would soon chase them off, he knew,
but in
the meantime-- “We need to make this look
good.”
Her swimsuit was cool and still a bit slick under his fingers as Tony
spread his hand over her side and slid it up towards her
breast.
Pepper inhaled, but before she could say anything he covered her mouth
with his, letting no more than a squeak escape.
He could kiss her forever, that was always the first thing that came to
mind beyond the sheer bliss of her skin. Kissing Pepper made
him
feel as though there was nothing else in the universe of any
importance, and this time was no different as her lips parted for him
and her body, half-pinned beneath his, arched a little against
him.
One small part of Tony’s mind hoped that the paparazzi were
getting some good shots, but that was about all the rational thought he
was managing, because Pepper’s heat and softness were soaking
into him and his brain was rapidly shutting down. Her mouth
tasted of lemonade and her own special flavor, sweet and indescribable,
and he let himself go. Her breast filled his hand perfectly,
and
the gasp she made against his lips made his blood run hot.
He was vaguely aware of Petrov’s bellow, of the roar of a
motor
fading, but it was far more important to take in all he could of the
woman pressed against him. Her eager mouth, her hand cupping
the
back of his neck made him all the hungrier; greedy, bordering on
desperate, Tony felt her nipple stiffen against his palm, and pressed
closer still, sliding one leg between hers. Pepper was his
only conscious thought as her scent filled his nose, Pepper, finally--
Then her hand fell away, and suddenly he was rocking back, startled and
off-balance from her shove. Pepper squirmed out from under
him,
eyes wild.
“Pepper?” he said stupidly, still dazed, but she
didn’t look at him. Instead she slid to the edge of
the
chaise and sat up.
He reached for her, but she stood quickly, glancing back at
him. “No,”
she hissed quietly, and fled with quick steps into the cabin.
Tony was about to push to his feet and pursue when he heard Jacques
greet Pepper, and he sat back abruptly. Chasing her would
only
draw the attention of the crew, and while he supposed a
lover’s
spat wasn’t out of the question, the ensuing argument was not
something he wanted anyone to overhear.
Instinct screamed at him to run after her, but Tony stayed where he
was, dizzy and angry and, he realized, hurt. He clenched his
fists, trying to calm his overeager body and his flaring
temper. What
the hell was that?
It wasn’t as though he’d been
forcing her. She’d been startled at first, sure,
but then
more than compliant--she’d been kissing him back with a great
deal of enthusiasm. And while Tony’s brain
acknowledged
that it was a woman’s right to say no at any point,
his body and his pride were harder to convince.
If she had been anyone else--if he’d been the man he was
before
Afghanistan--he would have stormed away, written her off as a tease,
had a good sulk and then gone looking for the next lovely
lady.
But she wasn’t, and he wasn’t. And Pepper
was neither
malicious nor capricious.
Letting out a sharp breath, Tony lay down again, tucking an arm under
his head and trying to relax. She had to have a reason to act
like that.
And he would go find out what it was in a few minutes, when he could
walk past the crew in his swim shorts without embarrassing
anyone.
It would take that long to master his emotions, anyway.
Ten minutes later Tony was standing outside the connecting door in the
master suite, which was firmly closed. He knocked,
hard.
“Pepper?”
“I’m working, Mr. Stark.” Her
voice was cold
and only slightly muffled by the door. Tony’s mouth
tightened, and he sighed, and punched the override code into the
door.
Pepper wasn’t working; she was huddled up on her bunk, arms
around her knees and her eyes widening in outrage as the door swung
open. Tony held up a hand. “I’m
not coming in.
But we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to say.” Her
face closed down
into the set blank he usually only saw when she was furious or deeply
upset.
“The hell there
isn’t. Why did you run away,
Pepper?” He folded
his arms and leaned against the doorframe, hoping it would be enough;
he wasn’t going to enter the room without her permission, but
it
would be harder to force her to talk from a distance.
“I didn’t run away. I went to my
cabin.” Her lifted chin defied him, and Tony sighed
again.
“Semantics, Ms. Potts. I expected better from
you.”
“Better than what? Than letting my boss grope me in
public?” Her cheeks, which had flushed at his
touches, were
white now.
“We agreed--“ Tony started, but she cut him
off.
“We agreed to public displays of affection, but that went far
beyond what was necessary. You
didn’t...”
Pepper trailed off. “Stop?” Tony supplied
softly. “I didn’t want to, and neither
did
you.”
She opened her mouth, but he shook his head.
“Don’t
bother, Pepper.” He rubbed his fingers against his
palm,
revisiting the memory. “I could feel you.
And smell
you. You wanted that just as much as I
did.”
He kept his voice even, not wanting her to think he was taunting
her. In fact, the knowledge was exhilarating.
Pepper’s face went scarlet, the color spreading up from her
throat a startling contrast to the paleness of moments before, and the
expression in her eyes...Tony felt a wave of cold break over him as he
put a name to it.
Shame.
“You don’t have to rub my nose in it,”
she said, almost inaudible.
Tony gaped at her. “I’m not.
Pepper, I--“
She shook her head. “This is turning into a
farce.
Let it go, Mr. Stark. You’ll be free to return to
your old
habits soon enough, but in the meantime I won’t be a...a
substitute.”
She was so wrong, about so many things, that Tony couldn’t
find
the words to start explaining. As he struggled, Pepper
unfolded
herself and stood up, half-running towards the little head on the far
side of the room.
“Pepper--Pepper, wait,
let me--“ But he was too late. The door
closed firmly behind her, and the words clotted on his
tongue.
And because he’d promised, he couldn’t set foot
across the threshold.
Pepper didn’t come out for dinner, merely calling up to
inform
Honey politely that she wasn’t feeling well. Tony
ate
alone, or tried to; his appetite was minimal. His stomach was
a
tangled knot of anger, frustration, and guilt.
Doesn’t
she trust me?
I haven’t touched another woman since I got back.
He’d been telling Pepper for months that she was the only
woman
he wanted, but apparently he hadn’t been explicit
enough.
His conscience pointed out mercilessly that a few months of attention
wasn’t much to stack up against his years of
promiscuity.
He’d flirted with Pepper all that time, too, and it
wasn’t
as though he hadn’t wanted
her; but both of them had known, without saying a word, that he needed
her more as an assistant than a one-night stand. And so
they’d never stepped outside the boundaries.
She’d never let
him, really. Which was just one of the reasons he loved her,
that prudence that balanced his own impulsiveness.
Tony left most of his dinner on his plate and retreated to the
night-shadowed deck with the whiskey decanter and a glass, to stare up
at the stars and wait for Pepper to come out as Petrov sailed them back
to port. But the crew left for shore before she emerged, and
sleep got the better of Tony.
He woke late in the morning with a dry mouth, and a thick blanket
weighing him down on the chaise. And when he went looking for
Pepper, Jacques told him regretfully that Ms. Potts had left early that
morning, chartering a helicopter flight back to the mainland.
Something about a sudden crisis at Stark Industries, so sorry, Mr.
Stark...
Tony wondered what the hell Pepper thought she was doing. She has to face me
eventually.
He considered going right after her, but the day was already half gone,
and with a cool resolve mixed with faint anger, Tony decided to
wait.
Let her
run. It just gives me more time to plan.
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