This evolved from an earlier idea for a fic spanning a larger portion of Pepper's life, but somehow or another got concentrated and focused into this. But, if I'm being honest, one of the major reasons I wrote this is because this fandom is in desperate need of some good femslash.

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Second Impressions

By ZionAngel

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She's used to the security alarm and Jarvis' warning - they don't startle her like they startle the woman.

"That's Jarvis, he runs the house." She speaks quickly and without emotion - she can't be wasting time if she wants to stick to her birthday plans. "I have your clothes here, they've been dry-cleaned and pressed," she continues, but as she holds up the clothes and sees the woman's shock, she can't help but feel a little pity. "And there's a car outside that will take you anywhere you'd like to go." Few of the women Tony brings home expect more than a one-night-stand, but most expect him to have the decency to show his face in the morning and show them to the door himself.

But the woman seems to regain her composure and scramble for some sense of dignity - or as much dignity as she can get, given that she's wearing Tony's shirt and wandering around his house looking for him. "You must be the famous Pepper Potts," she says, in a tone that accuses her of all the terrible whispers that have been floating around for years now.

Pepper hates this particular brand of Tony's women. "Indeed I am," she confirms, arming herself for whatever battle will be needed to get this woman out of the house and into the taxi and out of Tony's life - and Pepper's - forever.

The blonde saunters toward her, giving Pepper a once-over and then a look that screams condescension. The look deepens as she takes her clothes and drapes them over her shoulder. "After all these years, Tony still has you picking up the dry-cleaning."

These ones are always so unbelievably pathetic, thinking that they're better than her because they've been fucked by the great Tony Stark. It always baffles her how many don't realize that they've been used by Tony, that once he's gotten off with them a couple of times, they're worthless. This kind of girl never seems to realize that Pepper is the one with the permanent place in Tony's life and world. She's the one who stays.

But she says none of this, and just smiles sweetly. "I do anything and everything that Mr. Stark requires. Including occasionally taking out the trash." Her grin widens as the other woman's face falls. "Will that be all?"

The woman glares at Pepper, but she's seen far worse and it doesn't intimidate her in the least. The blonde starts tugging at the buttons on Tony's shirt. Pepper remembers picking that out for him and carefully packing it in his suitcase for Las Vegas. She moves past the woman and starts heading towards the kitchen, leaving her to show herself out.

"A little undignified, don't you think?" the blonde calls after her.

"Yes, well," Pepper tosses carelessly over her shoulder, "I don't generally judge the women Tony brings home, so don't be too hard on yourself."

"I was referring to you, actually."

Pepper stops this time and turns back, careful to keep a straight face. "Excuse me?"

The woman undoes the last button as she turns as well, and slips the shirt off of one shoulder. Pepper can't help but glance at the black bra with white lace that's revealed, and the matching black panties and a body that is no doubt very - oh, shit -

"Digging through Tony's trash, as you put it. Taking a few leftovers for yourself…." She saunters closer, slipping out of the shirt, and holding it out on an extended arm when she gets closer to Pepper. "How many of the same women have you two fucked, anyway?"

Pepper snatches the shirt away, staring her down and refusing to budge.

She smirks like she's won some battle, and Pepper is more than a little worried that she really has. "I'm a reporter, Miss Potts, don't look so shocked. Enlighten me, please, how exactly have you managed to keep him from figuring out you're a dyke?"

"Get out," Pepper hisses.

She hmms quietly, and turns toward the table and couch. "You know, a few people I've talked to have said you're just bisexual, but honestly I find that a little hard to believe. I mean," she says in a gloating, almost a sing-song voice as she pulls her clothes from the bag, "I know you haven't fucked Tony, otherwise you wouldn't be here. And I'd be very surprised if he didn't hit on you left and right, and you must know better than anyone that no straight girl -"

"I have a little self-control," Pepper seethes, because there are just too many emotions and unpleasant memories being dragged up here - and she's always hated stupid women like this who try to save their dignity by belittling her. She doesn't care if they're humiliated - they still have no right to take it out on her. "Something you clearly lack, and not that it's any of your goddamn business but if I had to deal with constant innuendos from Tony about threesomes, I'd have to quit." She's relieved when the blonde looks at her halfway through buttoning up her own shirt, seeming just a little scared and startled. "And I actually happen to like this job, although dealing with women like you always makes me wonder why."

"Is that why you stopped fucking them as much? Tony stop bringing home your type?"

Pepper can feel her fury strengthening, and her blood pressure rising rapidly.

The blonde steps into her pants slowly, flipping her hair as she turns to regard Pepper over her shoulder. "Way I hear it, you actually dated a few of them the first couple of years, but after a while it was nothing but one-night stands. Tony keep you too busy for a love life?"

She can hear the blood rushing in her ears, and feels her hands clenching into fists all on their own.

"Well, every girl needs to get fucked once in a while. Stressful job you have, I can't really blame you." She pulls on her blazer and begins buttoning it. "Although a hot, smart little femme like you could easily get your own fuck buddies - of course, it's probably a lot more convenient to go scavenging from the girls Tony's already done with -"

Pepper cuts her off with a low, vicious whisper. "Get the fuck out of this house right now or I will have you arrested for trespassing, and if you know me so well, then you know I will do it."

The woman's face falls and turns angry and humiliated when she realizes that Pepper is serious, that she's won. Pepper holds her ground and watches the woman avoid her eyes all the way to the door, where she retrieves the purse and shoes she left there last night. She turns back to Pepper just as she's opening the door, and it's hard to tell if she's angry, humiliated, or if she's just been rightfully put in her place. Either way, she says nothing, and slips out the door and away from Pepper's searing glare.

Finally, she forces herself to move, and she's shaking so hard by the time she makes it to the kitchen that she nearly collapses onto one of the island bar stools. Get a hold of yourself, Pepper, she thinks, clenching her fists again to try to keep them still. She's just a stupid, humiliated little bitch trying to save face and you're never going to see her again. She stays where she is for several long minutes, taking deep breaths but failing to get the reporter's words out of her head.

She's never told Tony because this is none of his business, and despite everything that she's put up with from him, everything that she willingly takes in stride, this would probably be her breaking point, and that's not a risk she has ever been willing to take. She's never cared that Tony slept with them first - she meets more women that way than she ever has the time to outside of work, and why the hell should she turn away from someone she likes because of Tony? And she hasn't dated one in years and doesn't sleep with them as often now because… well, she doesn't know why exactly, but damn it, she's an adult and she has every right to date or sleep with as many or as few willing women as she wants without answering to anyone.

Finally, the shaking of her hands subsides, and she glances at the clock - 7:23. She fights down the last of her anger so that she can get to the work that still needs to be done, and birthday plans that she refuses to miss. She pours herself a cup of coffee, and heads upstairs. She asks Jarvis to remind Tony that he needs to leave in half an hour, because she really doesn't have it in her to go down to see him at the moment.

Yes, her birthday is going just beautifully so far.

--

She pushes the three little olives around in her glass. This drink has no right to be called a martini - she's not entirely convinced there's anything in the glass but vodka. She hadn't asked for so much, but the bartender probably saw the look on her face and made the decision for her. Granted, she could use it, and she did come here with the very specific intention of getting drunk, which she almost never does, but… she just doesn't want it anymore.

She slowly pulls one olive from the stick with her teeth and eats it. She doesn't enjoy it the way she knows she should.

She's only half aware that she's speaking when the bartender passes by again, and she didn't tell her lips to order a glass of their best scotch. She hates scotch. Nonetheless, when it's placed in front of her, she drinks it in long sips, and thinks that maybe she's become accustomed to the scent that reminds her of him, and even twelve days is too long to go without it.

She doesn't pay attention to the vague image of blonde hair on the side of her vision until its owner speaks. The woman says "Hey" very quietly, and the sound makes Pepper cringe and groan quietly.

She only barely glances to her right to confirm the identity she already knows. "What the hell do you want?" The woman sighs, but can't think of anything to say. Pepper doesn't want to think about the headlines the reporter must already be conjuring up - though the words Missing Billionaire and Mourning Assistant manage to flash through her mind. "I don't know who you work for, but articles about me never sell issues, so go find a story somewhere else." She downs the rest of the scotch in one gulp.

"I didn't know you'd be here," the woman finally says softly, leaning against the bar even though Pepper still isn't looking at her. "I didn't follow you."

"Like hell." She doesn't need this right now - and not just because she's finally figured out what's changed in the last two years, why she's been seeing fewer and fewer of those women long after she escorts them to the door. Although she's not exactly surprised that she never noticed her feelings for Tony before. She so rarely gets involved with men, sexually or romantically - it was easy to overlook.

The woman sighs, but doesn't move. "Look, I'm sorry about the things I said," she continues softly. "It wasn't personal -"

"Sounded pretty fucking personal," Pepper mutters angrily.

"It wasn't," the blonde repeats softly, and Pepper finally turns to her. She sounds sincere enough. "But I understand that you're scared." She seems as stubborn as she did two weeks ago, and her demeanor still has that sharp edge to it, but… there's also compassion in her, now. Softness, maybe. "I'm not going to kick you when you're down. I just… thought you could use some company."

Pepper doesn't confirm or deny that, just pushes her empty glass across the counter and past the martini.

"I'm not blind. You didn't touch the first drink you ordered, and Tony had three glasses of scotch on the plane back from Las Vegas."

"Look, I really don't feel like talking," she says, weakly. She pulls the martini towards her again, but doesn't drink it. Finally, she feels the other woman's eyes stop searing into her, and hears her footsteps fade away as she returns to her own table.

She downs a second scotch, even though it tastes worse than the first, and then she just sits there a while, trying not to feel afraid and alone. A little later, she heads into the restroom, and once she's washed her hands, she stands and stares at the hollow face in the mirror.

She sees the door open in the reflection, and watches with a little shock as the reporter enters and moves toward her. Pepper sighs and turns around, holding up a hand a little in protest. "Look, will you please just -" But she never gets to finish the request, because in the next moment, the woman has a hand threaded through the hair at the back of her neck and is pulling her forward just enough to silence her with a kiss.

She freezes for a second in confusion and shock, and she isn't sure whether to submit or pull away, but the blonde decides for her when her tongue slips insistently into Pepper's mouth.

She doesn't want to have to deal with the emotional fallout of this, or think about the fact that this is only happening because Tony isn't here, that for all anybody knows, he could be dead, but…. God, she hadn't even realized how much she needed this until now, how desperate she's been for the soft heat of another person touching her, and right now it just feels good, like it might distract her from everything else if she lets it. So she opens her mouth a little wider, and leans into the hand that's now under her shirt and squeezing her breast.

Pepper clings to the other woman's shoulders, moaning softly as a finger slowly circles her nipple through her thin bra. The other hand leaves her neck and trails slowly down her chest, weaving little patterns and circles over her body until it reaches her waist, where it begins to pull open the button of her jeans.

The feel of fingertips against the skin of her abdomen shocks the reality of the situation into her, and Pepper pulls away, breathing in quick, shallow breaths and trying to see through unfocused eyes. "Stop," she murmurs hastily, pulling the blonde's hands away. But her body screams in protest as she takes another step away, telling her to let it happen. She swallows hard, and glances around the tiny bathroom. "Just… not here," she amends. She tries to plan further than that, but between the scotch and emotions that are all over the place and her sudden, insistent arousal, she can't think of what to do next.

"Did you drive here?" the other woman coaxes in a voice that flares heat through Pepper's chest and core.

It takes a second for the question to process, and when it does, she shakes her head slowly. "Cab."

She nods slowly. "I'll drive us to your place." And then she's just inches from Pepper again, closing the button of her jeans, and leading her outside with a hand at the small of her back.

She slowly recites her address to be put into the GPS system. For a few moments, her arousal ebbs somewhat, and she studies the blonde as they pull out of the parking lot. She's not defensive or arrogant now, not searching for some way to fend off the embarrassment of falling for Tony's charms only to be thrown away in the morning. Maybe, she thinks, so much of what she saw before was only humiliation. Maybe the real woman isn't the same as the one she met that day.

The seats of the car are soft, smooth leather. Pepper circles her fingers over the seat, taking comfort in the feeling and letting it stave off her desire for human skin until they reach her condo. Even with this, though, when the fifteen minute drive ends, her heart is racing, her breaths are coming deep and heavy, and she's already wet.

Pepper's fingers are surprisingly nimble with her keys as she opens the door, but the other woman is faster, and the next thing Pepper knows, she's pressed up against the inside of the closed door with her mouth sealed in a kiss. The hands return to her breast and lower belly a split second later, caressing her skin in ways that make standing difficult. She is so distracted by the hand rhythmically kneading and squeezing her breast that she doesn't even notice the hand that opens her jeans and slips into her panties, not until a fingertip finds her clit. She sucks in an involuntary breath, and now she's literally clinging to the other woman's shoulders to stay upright. She needs to get to the bed, or the couch - somewhere where she can lie down so they can do this properly without having to focus on anything else. She moves her own hand down, but instead of pulling the blonde's away, her fingers continue further down all on their own, until she can show the other woman exactly how to touch her.

After a moment, she's clinging to shoulders again, head pressing painfully back against the door. Her breathing is already becoming erratic. She desperately wants to be free of her clothes, needs to be in her bed, but at this point that would mean giving up the finger rubbing tight, firm circles around her clit. "Faster," she hears herself whisper into the darkness. "Harder… please -" Her breath freezes in her chest, and seconds later, it's released in a moan as she comes.

When she stops shaking, she vaguely registers that she's being led away from the door. She's a bit more aware of her shirt and bra being removed. She reaches for the blonde's shirt, desperate to touch her skin, and she barely manages to get it off before the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she falls backward onto the bed. The other woman presses a few soft kisses to Pepper's chest and stomach before stripping away her jeans and panties, then removing the rest of her own clothes. Forcing her body to move, Pepper climbs further onto the bed, her eyes adjusting to the darkness enough to see the blonde fully for a moment before she comes onto the bed as well. She was right about one thing, that morning at the mansion - this woman is gorgeous.

Then in a second, she's right there, kissing her and pressing their bodies tightly together. Her quiet whimper breaks the kiss at the relief of the sensation of warm, soft skin against her own. Pepper wastes no time with her hands, touching as much of the other woman's body as she can reach, and the favor is returned. They caress and kiss for several minutes, enjoying the feel of each other's skin, but after a while, she vaguely realizes that she has started shifting her hips restlessly, seeking relief from the pressure building inside her again.

The blonde's trails kisses down Pepper's neck and slides a hand up her thigh, settling in between her legs and taking a moment to explore the hot, wet flesh there. She only manages this for a few seconds before Pepper arches into the fingers, whimpering as a plea to just touch her already. The other woman doesn't bother making her wait, doesn't torture her further by touching her everywhere but where she most needs it. Her finger slides up and finds her clit, pressing firmly for a moment before it begins circling as it did before.

Pepper lets her muscles go limp atop the mattress, grateful that she no longer has to struggle to stay standing. This way, she can focus on the lips nipping at her chest and shoulders, the arm beneath her waist as it supports the arch of her back, the soft skin pressed against her side and clenched tightly in her hands, and the fingers slowly driving her out of her mind and toward her edge.

The tension returns to her first, pulling everything tighter and tighter until every muscle is strained. The reporter takes this as her cue, and suddenly she's moving faster and pressing just a bit harder than before. Her breathing comes next, and breaths that were once drawn in and let out quickly are now held in her lungs for long seconds until the vague burning forces them out again. The finger circles her impossibly faster each time this happens, and it keeps this pace as her orgasm shudders through her. She slows only when it finally subsides, and Pepper is limp and panting again.

And then she's moving down Pepper's body, before her breathing has slowed by any noticeable degree, before the little aftershocks have stopped running through her. A few kisses trail down the line of her torso, across her chest and stomach, until her mouth reaches Pepper's core. Her lips and tongue begin slowly against the sensitive skin, and after taking a few moments to find a good rhythm, she slips two fingers inside.

Pepper's body reacts without her, one hand threading through the blonde hair draped over her hips, the other clutching at a handful of blanket. Her hips start bucking almost imperceptibly against the fingers moving rhythmically inside her, and as if the other woman can read her mind, a third finger slips inside as well. Her tongue and lips stay with her, never letting up their ministrations for a second until Pepper is falling all over again.

The things that happen after that blur into one another, and all that she processes is the sensations of hands and skin and lips over every inch of her body. Somewhere between the rolling waves of pleasure radiating out from her core, it dawns on her that this is actually helping, that in this moment, she's not overwhelmed by sadness or pain or the incessant fear of what is or what could be half a world away. It's not gone - it still exists, she hasn't forgotten it - but for now it has lost its power over her, its ability to slowly tear her heart to shreds. And maybe these few minutes of skin and heat and pleasure have even managed to mend just a few of those broken pieces for a while.

When it's over, she isn't sure how many times she's come. All she knows is that for the first time in twelve days - probably much longer, if she's honest with herself - her mind is clear, free of everything but her lingering pleasure and comfort. The blonde stays with her for a few minutes, curled up to her side while she presses gentle kisses to Pepper's face and neck and softly caresses her side. When her breathing has finally returned to normal and she's hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, the other woman finally pulls away and leaves the bed.

Some small part of her feels guilty, like this is cheating on Tony now that she knows how she feels - but the rest of her holds on to this feeling, the strong, steady beat of her heart and the silence in her mind and the way her naked skin is cradled between cool air and warm sheets. The other woman says nothing as she picks up her clothes - she hasn't said a word since they left the bar. She just looks at Pepper in the dim light, letting her know that she's leaving, giving Pepper the opportunity to ask her to stay, which she doesn't. She only lies limply on the bed as the blonde leaves, thinking that maybe she understands, just a little.