Title: Discordia
Summary: She leans back onto the unrumpled sheets and takes a breath, telling herself she's not searching for a hint of his smell.
Characters: Pepper
Pairing: Pepper/Tony
Rating: G
Discordia
She sits on the edge of his bed, the Pacific rolling beyond her feet. Her laptop is discarded on the bed beside her, the screen bright in the otherwise dim room. At her back, the bed is neatly made – still empty. A few levels beneath her, the workshop lies empty, too.
It's discordant with what she knows of Tony.
At seven thirty, she usually has to haul him out of bed, convince other to leave his bed or lure him upstairs from his sanctum.
But he's gone and she's lost; not quite a tail-spin yet but she's getting there and it's only been three days.
Farther than she can see, Rhodey is out there looking for him. Farther still, Tony is missing.
She tells herself to pull it together, to sort out his schedule for his eventual return because really, the meetings with the Japanese and the Dutch can't be put off forever.
But when she turns to pick up the laptop her eyes catch sight of the empty bed again and she pauses. She leans back onto the unrumpled sheets and takes a breath. She grabs a pillow and hugs it to her, taking another breath – she's not looking for a hint of his smell (God, she's not that desperate) she just...
She puts it back and stands, taking her laptop with her. At the doorway she pauses, looks back and makes a mental note to have house cleaning fix the sheets.
It won't do for him to come back and find that she's been in – not quite in, she qualifies – his bed.
She makes the same mental note every morning for three months.