Author's note: First and foremost, I'm terribly sorry for taking so long. :D Secondly, I'm pretty sure Tony is a Clash fan. Seriously- their songs are all over the movies, so I decided to include them a bit in this story. Anyway, enjoy!


Being Ironman was surprisingly expensive. Money had never been a problem for Tony Stark, but he did not like to spend so much of it on a mistake he'd made. The problem wasn't the suit- it worked like a dream. There was nothing buggy about the systems, everything was in place…and yet there was still money to be spent.

He couldn't keep the hole in the roof, as much as he wanted to, and there was also the matter of the 1967 Shelby Cobra convertible he'd inadvertently smashed after his first test flight. It pained Tony-literally, somehow- to see the beautiful blue car reduced to crumpled scrap.

He was in the depths of the garage that day, elbow-deep in a tool box as he searched for the appropriate wrench to use. Some of the parts could be salvaged from the Cobra, despite its condition. Before he could grab the correct tool, Tony heard the familiar whirring and clicking of the robot assistant he called 'Dummy' and jumped as something cold pressed against his forearm. He scowled and realized a Dr. Pepper can was clenched in the robot's grip. It was the equivalent of a dog stuffing its nose where it didn't belong.

"Okay. Thanks- where were you twenty minutes ago when I was thirsty?"

Tony snatched the can from the robot's clawed grip despite his annoyance and cracked it open. After taking a sip, he waved Dummy out of the way, walking over to where the Cobra still lay in ruins.

"Jarvis?'

"Yes, sir?" the familiar voice replied.

Tony chewed his lip for a moment, wincing as he laid eyes on the gnarled front end of the car.

"Do me a favor and play work playlist number three."

"Certainly," the computer agreed, "Feeling frustrated, sir?"

Tony sighed and knelt to inspect the tires, sipping his Dr. Pepper. "Nope. Just need the proper mood music. This is gonna be fun…"

He took a glance up at the ceiling, squinting in the pool of sunlight that now fell into the shop. Tony pursed his lips and shook his head, as if thinking.

"What're the odds I don't have to fix this hole? I could just put a pole here instead and people can slide down."

"That would be impractical, sir," Jarvis informed him, "As you already have an elevator."

Tony made a face. "All right already. Shut up and play my music, you killjoy."

Jarvis didn't respond of course, and instead of a snappy comeback, "Your Touch" by the Black Keys began to growl out of the surrounding speaker system. Tony set to work on the Cobra, kicking his tool box along beside him. The sunlight falling through the hole above had been distracting at first, but he'd learned to cope. Part of him liked it, and part of him didn't feel like repairing it; a skylight would have been nice, actually.

Tony bit his lip as he pulled hard on the wrench, freeing a twisted bolt from one of the front tires. It clattered on to the floor at his feet and he blew out a breath, reaching for his Dr. Pepper once again. After a few more minutes of working the mangled tire finally came free, and he rolled it into the corner of the shop to join the others. The license plate came next and as he wrenched it off of the front end, he could see that the words 'Stark 2' were still legible across the gnarled metal.

"I hardly touched her, Jarvis," Tony sighed, "And look what I did…"

"I'm confused, sir. I didn't believe you to be a sentimental person," the computer replied as the Black Keys came grinding to a stop.

Tony shook his head, tossing the ruined plate on to his worktable.

"She was a beaut. I hate to see her like this."

He reached for the now half-empty can of Dr. Pepper and drank. Jarvis seemed to be listening to him, as the next song had not played yet.

"I'm afraid I still don't understand, sir."

Tony smirked. "Good. Get back to my music."

The Clash's "Complete Control" sounded in response and he went back to work, chiding Dummy for giving him the wrong tools. There were times when Tony seriously thought about chucking the little assistant into the trash compactor, but he was too damn attached to the thing to do so, however infuriating it became.

When it came down to it, however, he really didn't mind too much- whatever got him inside the shop, tinkering around with something. Ever since Afghanistan, Tony had found it necessary to keep himself busy; working cleared his mind, helped him focus. There was plenty on his mind these days, from fixing Stark Industries (literally and economically), to the new responsibility he'd just bestowed upon himself…and there was always Pepper. Sweet, pretty Pepper. He'd been thinking about her too much lately, to the point when he actually tripped down stairs or ran into doorframes while doing it. Not only was it embarrassing, but it got in the way of all the 'science-y' things he loved doing.

And unfortunately this car reminded him of her.

The Cobra had been one of his favorites to take for a spin before he'd gotten the Audi. Both cars were considerably flashy and expensive, but Tony loved how the Cobra drove as opposed to how good he looked in it. He'd taken Pepper for a drive in this car, though- that was what he remembered the most. She had been terrified, despite her claim against it, and had sat rigid in the seat as they went zooming along the costal highway. The memory still made Tony smile.

He worked for a good hour and a half before deciding to head upstairs to take a well-earned break. After raiding the fridge for another soda and last night's cold pizza, Tony shuffled into the den and fell into one of the leather arm chairs. He called to Jarvis through a mouthful of pizza.

"Hey, play something nice, would ya?"

"I'm afraid you must be more specific, sir."

Tony grunted as he slumped down further into the armchair, setting aside the pizza slice to grab for his soda can. He thoughtfully took a swig, propping his feet up on a nearby ottoman.

"Let's stick with the Clash motif, but slow it down a bit. Play some Mescaleroes."

"Certainly, sir."

Tony leaned back and closed his eyes, tapping his nails on the top of the can as the familiar plinking of Spanish guitars sounded throughout his home. He sighed and smirked.

"'Mondo Bongo.' I like it-good choice, Jar."

The music washed over him and managed to calm every frayed nerve, quell every thought and paralyze his limbs into relaxation. He sat there and murmured the lyrics as Joe Strummer's voice echoed throughout the house. It wasn't until he heard the clicking of sandals across the hardwood floors did he finally open his eyes.

"Tony?" Pepper's voice called.

"In here," he answered, gulping down some of the soda.

She stepped into view ahead of him and the drink caught in his throat; he sputtered loudly and coughed. Pepper hurried toward him, frowning in concern as he hiccupped.

"Are you okay?"

Tony nodded, pounding on his chest, blinking rapidly as he felt the caffeine crackling in his sinuses. He managed a reassuring smile and Pepper smirked, looking at him crookedly. She turned to head back into the living room and Tony struggled to free himself from the armchair, completely compelled to follow.

Something was different about her; he had to know what it was.

He leaned against the jamb and just watched as she walked over to the coffee table and picked up a glossy folder from the surface. She wasn't dressed in the usual "business attire"; he had supposedly given her the week off for putting up with his drunk ass a few days ago. But there she was, looking over something for him at any rate, wearing a red and white striped sundress. It reminded him of the little candies he used to eat as a kid, the ones he stole from the jar that sat on top of his mother's piano. He smirked.

Peppermints.

"Mondo Bongo" was still playing as Tony left the doorway and circled around to get a better look at her, one hand stroking his chin. Pepper glanced at him once before turning back to the folder and let out a short sigh.

"I hope you did more today than work in the shop."

"I called the…the people."

Tony gestured with his arm, only really half-listening; he was caught up in the sweet rhythm of the song, swaying slightly as he watched her. Pepper laughed and he couldn't help smiling back.

"The people?" she repeated, "You mean the construction people, right? To fix that hole in the roof?"

Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah. Wanna dance?"

She looked at him like he'd said something completely stupid. He probably had, but that didn't matter.

"What?"

"Dance- y'know? To the song?"

Pepper tilted her head and pursed her lips. "Tony, have you been drinking?"

He grabbed the folder from her and threw it back on the coffee table before stepping in close, taking hold of her hand. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and began to waltz around the living room. Pepper could only look at him with an expression that combined both surprise and confusion.

"To answer your question, Potts, I have not been drinking," he answered quietly.

She giggled, but managed to turn it into a snort. "Well, there's a first."

Tony smirked as they continued to dance. Pepper seemed slightly uncomfortable, like she had been the night at the benefit for the firefighters; they were much too close and they both knew it. But neither of them said anything. She didn't pull away and he didn't apologize.

Tony really couldn't understand what had caused him to suddenly want to dance with her in the first place; why he had wanted to hold her, even if it was just for a moment. His mind was-in all actuality- racing at what he was doing, wondering if he was completely crazy for even suggesting it. As usual, he forgot to look before he leapt.

Ah, who the hell am I kidding? I'm enjoying this.

He grinned at the thought and Pepper returned the gesture shyly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Just…where did you get this dress?"

A blush crept across her cheeks and part of him realized he should have just left her alone. But the other part of him remembered what he'd said to her that night after the party, the three little words that made her look at him that way. Pepper shook her head, bouncing all of the strawberry-blonde curls in her hair.

"Happy got it for me, if I remember correctly."

Tony frowned. "What's he doing buying you nice things?"

Pepper looked back up at him and smirked.

"That's what people do for their friends, Tony, especially on their birthday." She arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. "Don't tell me you're jealous."

It was Tony's turn to look away sheepishly. He laughed lightly and shrugged.

"Of him? No. If he wants to buy you nice things, power to him. I'm surprised though; the man has taste- you look great in it."

He bit his lip and mentally cursed himself, having not really thought about what he was going to say. Pepper giggled again, but quickly stopped herself. The sunlight showed through her hair as they turned, still dancing, and briefly Tony wondered if she could get anymore gorgeous. He stared, unable to really help it. He wanted to kiss her, but for some reason, that did not seem like a good idea.

Any other time I'd do it. Any other freaking time.

The music plinked on around them. Pepper sighed and smiled. Tony stepped back and gave her room to twirl, smirking as she spun around. He went to pull her back and she stumbled into him, hugging him tight. She laughed and he held her there, enjoying the way the sunlight still shined through her hair, realizing for the first time she had freckles across her cheeks. Without thinking, he leaned in closer and the smile slowly faded from her face. His eyes closed, and all thought processes from before were lost on him in that moment. They were mere inches apart…

"Tony?"

He leaned back abruptly, finally catching himself. Pepper could only stare back up at him. Clearing his throat, he asked,

"Yeah, Potts?"

She gently leaned away from him, squeezing his hands affectionately as she did so.

"Thank you for the dance."

He fixed her with a tight-lipped smile and nodded.

"You're welcome."

Pepper smiled. "It's a very beautiful song, Tony. You have surprisingly good taste."

He had to laugh at that, knowing all too well what she meant. She turned to walk from the room, her sandals lightly slapping her heels as she went. Tony watched her leave and sighed to himself as she moved behind the tempered glass wall and became a light blur of red and white. He slumped back into his arm chair and listened to the final verse of "Mondo Bongo," running a hand through his hair.

"Latino caribo, mondo bongo/The flower looks good in your hair/Latino caribo, mondo bongo/Nobody said it was fair..."

Tony could only smirk as Pepper's footsteps faded away.

"'Nobody said it was fair…'"