Another little one-shot I couldn't get out of my head while I'm stuck on vacation. Have fun and enjoy.
I obviously don't own Iron Man.
The stupid bastard didn't tell her where he was going.
Tony left with the suit almost fourteen hours ago (Pepper was meticulously counting), leaving only the note: Gone Fishing.
Gone fishing her ass. He hasn't touched a fishing pole since... well... never.
So this explains why Pepper is sitting on Tony's expensive leather couch, eating bon-bons and drinking Tony's scotch. CNN has been flashing on the TV for the past twelve of those fourteen hours, but not one of the talking heads has said a thing about Iron Man, or that they've found an unconscious Tony Stark in some remote location. It's 3:00 AM, and they're re-running Larry King Live. Pepper can't sleep, dark circles are forming around her eyes, and she's too worried to do any work.
Also, for the first time since her infamous college party of 1989, Pepper Potts is drunk off her ass.
She's currently passed out on the couch, a corner of a cushion pushing into her cheek to leave a funny imprint. Her bright red hair is spread over the back of the couch, creating a fiery cascade. Her feet had long been free of her dangerously tall Manolos and her shirt is more wrinkled than an old man's forehead. Larry King's interview with Donald Trump is falling on sleeping ears, but another sound is added to the mix. Sounds of metal clanging around the shop floor floated up the stairs from the workshop. After a few minutes of noise, everything is silent except for the TV. Then Tony emerges from the shop, still wearing his bodysuit. He surveys the room and his face turns into an amused smile when he sees Pepper sleeping. He walks over and whispers, "Pepper... Pepper... wake up..."
The only movement is the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. Tony takes a few steps back then shouts, "Honey, I'm home!"
Still no response.
Tony gently shook her shoulders, but all Pepper did was shift and remain still. Tony looked at the three boxes of bon-bons Pepper managed to consume and the two empty bottles of scotch sitting innocently on the coffee table. One part of Tony was silently weeping for the loss of his best imported scotch. Another part of him really wanted to see Pepper in the height of her drunken stupor. Tony turned to Pepper and decided he couldn't go easy on her if he was going to wake her up. No more mister nice guy.
He lightly tickled her stomach. He heard giggling and soon Pepper was awake and looking around groggily.
"Tony? Is that you?" she asked quietly, still unaware of anything around her.
"Yes, Virginia. It's me, Tony Stark, your lovable boss."
She turned her head to the side looking very confused. "Who's Virginia?" she asked slowly.
"That would be you," Tony said, smiling widely.
Pepper seemed to think hard about this new information. Then she scrunched up her face in a frown and said, "I don't like that name."
"Well," said Tony, chuckling, "what if I called you Pepper?"
She thought again. "I like it," she said, immediately brightening. She swayed dangerously before Tony grabbed her shoulders and straightened her upright. "Pepper," he began, "how long have you been waiting for me?"
"Ummmmmmm..." she mumbled, "I don't know. More than half a day, I think."
The smile slid off Tony's face. "Pepper, I've got to get you home."
As he said it, Pepper's face turned a delicate shade of green. Tony picked her up, and ran out to the balcony. Faster than either of them could say "hurl," Pepper was emptying what used to be scotch and bon-bons over the railing and into the Pacific Ocean below. Well, thought Tony, taking her home is out of the question. "Hey, Pepper," he said as he held her hair back, "you're going to stay here tonight. Let's go get you cleaned up."
All Pepper could do in response was vomit again. She looked so drained, Tony thought she would faint. He picked her up bridal-style and took her into the guest bathroom. He pulled her hair back and sat Pepper down in front of the toilet while he wetted a washcloth and wiped off her mouth with it. Pepper swayed dangerously and he steadied her against the wall. He also gave her a glass of water and slowly, she stopped vomiting. "Tony," she whispered, her breath labored, "my sides hurt real bad."
"Shh... It's alright, Pepper," he whispered back. He got another washcloth and dabbed at her face. She calmed down after a few minutes and relaxed so much that she fell asleep for about two seconds before Tony awoke her again. "C'mon Pepper, just stay awake a little longer so you can get changed."
That didn't seem possible, though. Pepper was barely coordinated enough to even stand still for more than a second, much less to get changed into something she could sleep in. She stopped vomiting and was in danger of falling asleep. While Tony was figuring out what to do with his drunk assistant, Pepper started shaking. She hadn't gotten more than five hours of sleep a night this past week. They were working out new contracts with the Defense Department and all shipping orders had to be double and triple checked and heightened security made for a very sleepless week for Pepper Potts. As far back as Tony could recall, the last time she had side-effects of sleep deprivation was almost two years ago when Tony had pissed off the Chinese diplomat and she had to take most of the fallout for that.
She wasn't shaking like a seizure, it was like she was very cold. Still, Tony kept the Air Conditioning carefully regulated and it was summer in Southern California, so that left the sleep deprivation. Tony closed the lid of the toilet, picked Pepper up and set her on his lap, and he hugged her until she stopped shaking. They sat there for what seemed like an eternity. She looked like a lost, helpless child in his arms and he looked at a loss for what to do. Eventually, her violent shaking was reduced to small tremors. He picked her up again and carried her to his bedroom to get a pair of sweats and a work shirt for her to sleep in. He set her on the edge of his bed as he dug inside his monstrous walk-in closet for clothes. He emerged with a pair of silk pajama bottoms and a worn M.I.T. t-shirt. He then approached a dillema:
How do you undress your assistant in a professional, not-sexual, way?
It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive. Far from it - it's just that he knew Pepper would flay him alive if she found out he had so much as undone a single button on her blouse.
"Hey, Pepper, are you O.K. enough that you can change into these?" he asked, holding out the pajamas.
Without any further word, Pepper undid the zipper on her pencil skirt. Tony barely had time to react, but he was thankful she was wearing spankies under her skirt. He turned around and kept his thoughts as professional as they could be while she pulled on the pants and undid her blouse. Unfortunately, drunk Pepper has a hard time with buttons, so halfway through, Tony had to come to her assistance and tried desperately to keep his eyes on the buttons.
Once the blouse was off, another problem arose that he hadn't anticipated. Women don't like to sleep wearing bras, Tony thought. He feared for his life as Pepper was having trouble with the clasp. His fears were confirmed as Pepper drunkenly said, "Tony, can you help me?"
He imagined the headlines: Stark Murdered by Assistant: Sexual harassment may have been key, Stark Found Dead In Home: Disgruntled employee charged, The Not-So-Invincible Iron Man. He could imagine Rhodes writing his obituary and Pepper being worshipped among the super-feminist secrataries of the world. Then there was the suit...
He was dragged out of his thoughts by Pepper's plea again. He decided to suck it up and get it over with. He had undone more bras in his lifetime than the bra girls at Macy's. Why should this one be any harder? A nagging voice in the back of his head that sounded extraordinairly like Pepper told him, It's because she's one that you actually care about.
He made Pepper move so that her back was facing him as he unhooked the clasp. His eyes lingered on her bare back muscles and the way they was reflected in the moonlight. He quickly removed her straps and threw his M.I.T. shirt over her. He sat her down again on the edge of his bed and changed himself into boxers and an AC/DC t-shirt with a hole cut out for his Arc Reactor. "Alright..." he turned to find Pepper hunched over, barely concious. "Pepper. I'm going to walk you down to the guest room. Can you walk?"
She nodded in an awkward, hunched over, way as she let herself be guided out of Tony's bedroom. As they were in the hallway, she started shaking again. It got so bad, she looked as if she was going to collapse right there in the hallway. Tony picked her up again and carried her back to his room. He threw back the blankets and tucked her under before crawling in himself and hugging her until the shaking stopped.
She was still awake. Probably still thinking of meetings, thought Tony. The room was dark except for the blue, circular pattern on the ceiling that the Arc Reactor was making. Tony pulled the covers up to cover the reactor and Pepper spoke.
"Where'd the blue go?"
"It went away," he whispered, as if speaking to a small child.
"I want it back!" demanded Pepper in a drunken slur.
"Why?"
"It's like a night light, and it reminds me that you're still here. And not... not here."
He pulled the covers down and he realized he was still hugging Pepper, even though her shaking had stopped.
They fell asleep that way. Tony holding Pepper, and Pepper's head resting on Tony's bicep. She thought of all Tony had done for her tonight. Tony tried to remember how many times she had done this for him when he was too drunk to function. A great feeling for Pepper filled him as he stared at his own handiwork, reflecting onto the ceiling. In that instant, she was more than his assistant and he was more than her boss, but nothing more.
There had been times when he had contemplated a relationship with her. It would work, he reasoned. They both liked cars and Mel Brooks movies, and she already knew him backwards and front. He had imagined that they would be like Superman and Lois Lane – a great love for the ages separated by what Tony had to do. They would be the stuff of legend. But lying there with her, no meetings or schedules to keep, he realized something. Because of their working relationship, Pepper would never allow it. Maybe tomorrow, they would kiss. Maybe in the next weeks and months they could figure each out on a different level. They would learn to touch each other and love. Maybe none of that would ever happen, but for now, all he wanted was this.
Pepper awoke in beautifully silky sheets on a wonderfully soft mattress. The warmth she vaguely remembered falling asleep against was gone, and all that was left was the bed. Her feeling of comfort was erased when a splitting headache overtook her, her sides began screaming, and she groaned and retreated under the covers. She then realized that this was not her bed, and that she didn't remember taking off her bra, or putting on sweats. She then noticed the smell. The sheets and the bed had a distinctly… man smell.
She sniffed her pillow. Metal, aftershave, and Hugo Boss, she thought. Oh God… I'm in Tony's bed.
"Morning, sunshine."
Pepper groaned. Tony may have speaking just above a whisper, but her head was pounding.
"Don't talk," he said, lowering his voice further. "I've got Advil for the headache, water, and sunglasses so nothing is too bright."
Pepper smiled painfully, and it looked more like a grimace. "Thanks…" she whispered, taking the Advil and throwing them back. She downed them with the water and slipped on the designer glasses Tony handed her.
"Jarvis, window."
Immediately the window lit up and Pepper could see that she was indeed in Tony's room. She could also see her clothes from yesterday slung over the back of a chair, now in a dry cleaner bag.
"Tony… did we, you know…"
"No." It was a solid 'no' that left no room for further inquiry. "You know I have too much respect for you to do that."
They were both silent for a while. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed like he was working in the shop. "I guess it was payback for all the times you helped me when I was drunk."
Pepper smacked her head. Her alcoholic-in-denial boss saw her drunk. Really drunk. "How bad was I?"
"In terms of mildly buzzed to stinkin' drunk, you were shit-faced. I saw you past the normal point when you sing badly to karaoke songs and you were near passed out, throwing-up. I'm still wondering why you picked the scotch."
Pepper snorted. "You and James drank all the beer the last time you watched The Shawshank Redemption."
There was another long silence. "Hey, Pep," he said softly, "did you really sit on the couch and wait for me for fourteen hours?"
"Twelve, actually," she said, massaging her temples. "And I didn't sit the whole time. I walked to get more scotch, walked to get more bon-bons, paced, got my laptop…" She continued to number them off until Tony cut her off.
"The fact that you waited means more to me than anything anyone else has ever done for me."
It was so brutally honest that it shocked the both of them into a long and awkward silence.
"Well," began Pepper, "that's really the first time I've been that drunk since college."
This raised Tony's interest. "Were you the college party girl?"
"No," said Pepper quietly, "my sorority had this big party and my boyfriend of two years had just broken up with me, so I got wasted." Tony made a motion to continue and Pepper conceded, "I took my shirt off, waved it around, and sang Madonna songs. Very badly."
Tony chuckled and even Pepper managed a giggle. They were quiet again.
"Pepper."
"Yeah?"
"I know you haven't been getting enough sleep, so I am ordering you to spend the whole day in bed with no work. Just you and your dreams."
Pepper looked like she was going to argue, but she must have decided against it because she said, "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"
"That will be all, Miss. Potts," Tony said as he walked out of the room and down to the work shop.
Pepper preceded to sleep for the next eighteen hours, inhaling Tony's scent from the pillows and relaxing. The Night Pepper Potts Got Drunk was never spoken of again. Pepper never thanked Tony for taking care of her that night and, according to Tony, she never had to.
I just had to write this from the medley of ideas in my head, and because there just isn't enough Tony/Pepper fluff in the world.