Disclaimer: Not mine, never were. Returning them mostly unharmed.

Author's note: Still processing Age Of Ultron. Still somewhat not okay with the fact that Pepper wasn't there even though almost everyone else was. But at least they're still together - I'd go ballistic if Whedon broke them up off-screen or something.

So... The title comes from 'For You Only' by Trading Yesterday because it reminds me of Pepperony.

Keep on running farther, faster
Keep on searching for this haunting has an answer
And I know you will find me, in orbit
For I am breathing only for this.
For you only...

Tony Stark isn't a team player. Never has been.

It's been a few years since Fury gathered them for the first time on his mighty helicarrier and sure they've changed a lot. They're a real team now, and when they work together, it's like a choreographed dance. Most of the time. Of course, it also means they know one other better than they know themselves. They know which buttons to push to drive each other insane, although for the most part they refrain from doing it.

Sometimes, he thinks they're actual friends. Sometimes, he even believes it. They're good for each other – that much he knows for sure.

What he forgets now and then is how non-private the teamwork can be. They're in each other's faces at all times, there's always something to discuss – especially when the well-being of the wolrd is at stake. He's still not used to it – it's too loud, too overwhelming, and you'd think he'd gotten used to the loud and overwhelming, but saving the planet is not a party, and he often doesn't understand how are they not crawling out of their skins just to stay away from one another.

Then again, maybe it's just him.

It's 2 in the morning by the time they're finally done discussing everything there is to discuss and he's alone. By this point, he could probably use two solid weeks of sleep, but they're leaving shortly to try and put an end to the madness he had started, and he's antsy, and restless, and unable to stop pacing like a caged animal because his brain is on fire.

He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans – on instinct more than anything else. There are no missed calls, which is not surprising. Pepper knows not to call him when he's running wild with the SHIELD, or whatever they are called these days. She knows that any distraction can cost him, or someone else, a life.

It's the middle of the night in California and he knows he shouldn't call her. She's probably asleep, exhausted after the meetings and the phone calls and endless reports and God only knows what else. He shouldn't, but his finger is pressing the dial button anyway. He needs to hear her voice, even if it's nothing but a 'Leave your message after the beep'.

Much to his surprise, she picks up after the second ring.

"Tony?" Her voice is low and raspy, and his whole body aches from being miles away from her.

"Hey," he whispers back, even though he's in the barn and no one at the house would hear him even if they tried.

"Are you okay?" She's suddenly awake and alarmed.

"No, no, everything's fine," he reassures her quickly, thinking of that one time when she didn't pick up. Of how she refused to let him out of her sight for a week afterwards to make sure he was actually there. She hasn't missed a single phone call from him since. He hates himself for putting her through all of this again. "Did I wake you? Sorry. I was just… I thought I'd leave a message or something."

He leaves out the 'just in case' part, but they both know it's there.

"It's okay," she whispers back. "I wish you were here though. To wake me, I mean."

He can here a smile in her voice, and there's only so much he can do to stop himself from putting on his suit and taking off for Malibu, the rest of the world be damned. For a moment, he even thinks he can get away with it. For a moment, it's just the two of them, and nothing else matters.

"You and I both," he responds in whoosh of breath. In his mind, he sees her curled up in their bed, and there's almost nothing he wouldn't do to be there with her right now. "Is everything okay over there?"

"Right as rain."

"I'm not talking about Stark Industries." As in, are you still okay with me trying to kill myself on a daily basis? He doesn't need to spell it out. It's a small dance they do around the things that neither one of them wants to say out loud.

"I know," Pepper's voice is barely a whisper. And then, "I miss you."

And just like that, the whole world shatters around him, and he wants to scream because he misses her, too. He misses her so much he can't breathe for a heartbeat or two, his insides twisted into a tight knot. And he can't even say it back to her because if he does, he's going to fall apart.

Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to rub away the mother of all headaches pooling behind his eyes. "I did something stupid, Pep."

There's a small pause before she says, "So I've heard."

Of course, she has.

"Hill." A statement, not a question. He makes a mental note to thank Maria for keeping his girlfriend sane when he's not there to take care of it himself.

"Is everyone okay?"

Tony looks around the barn. They're on Barton's farm, for Christ's sake. He's got a wife and two kids, and another one on the way. This is as far away from okay as he can imagine, but this isn't what she wants to know.

"Good as new," he assures her, trying to keep his voice as light as he can, exhaustion and the whole Ultron crisis considered.

He wants to tell her about his fears, his guilt that weighs him down like a pile of rocks. It's hard to breathe, impossible to escape. He doesn't remember the last time he felt so helpless and so trapped. He needs her to understand – she will, she always does, but with at least a thousand miles between them, it doesn't seem right or fair. Spilling it out will not make him feel better, not when she's so far away, and it will only scare Pepper even more.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He says without thinking, and wants to kick himself for how it sounds – like something final, like a goodbye.

"Tony—"

"It'll be over soon," he continues before they have time to dwell on it. "And then we're taking as week off. Just you and me. And margaritas. And maybe that cute bikini of yours that I like."

He can feel her relax a little, can envision her lips curl into a half smile.

"Promise?" She asks, swallowing her fears and the questions he doesn't have any answers to. It's another rule – they don't talk about the what-ifs because when you live on the edge, it's all about here and now, and here and now they have a good thing going on. He can't bear thinking about anything else.

"Promise," he's smiling, too, picturing them on the beach somewhere in Mexico. He'll turn off his phone and throw hers into the ocean if she brings work with her. He likes this idea. It's been too long since he had her all to himself. He needs that. He needs her. He's selfish like that. "I also promise to come back with the stories."

"Good ones?" She's curious.

"Did you know about the green guy and Romanoff?"

"You didn't?"

This takes Tony by surprise, and he blinks in confusion. "Really?"

Although, let's face it, this shouldn't be that shocking. It took him almost a decade to recognize his own feelings for Pepper after all. He's a work in progress, but he's getting better. Although maybe not in this particular case.

He hears the commotion at the house, which means that the time's up and he needs to put on his suit and try not to die in the next few hours. And for the first time in what feels like forever, he's genuinely scared. How can he not be when he's got so much to lose?

"Hey, I've gotta go," he says quietly, as if they could be overheard, and this is the moment he wants to protect from the world. Then adds, more nonchalantly, "I'd love to stay but the world won't save itself." And then, "Take care, okay?"

There's a long pause, and he wonders if she hung up, or fell asleep, or maybe he dreamed up the whole thing and there was no call, just him, talking alone in the dark. He is so tired that nothing would surprise him.

"Tony," Pepper says just when he's almost convinced himself she's never been on the other end of the line at all. She never asked him to quit, never asked him to forget about his missions and get a less suicidal hobby, although he knows for certain it's on the tip of her tongue every time he leaves. She sucks in a breath. "I want you to come back in one piece. Whatever happens, come back in one piece. I need you to—"

And then she's gone. The reception in this place is spotty at best, and his technical skills only go so far – contrary to popular belief, he doesn't own a satellite.

In his mind, he promises her to come back alive. He promises her to be careful. He promises her to quit this whole thing for good – this one is not going to stick, but right now, he needs it. He promises her to be a better man, to stop doing things that keep them this far apart this often. He promises her to stop breaking her heart and to love her like no else ever did (and knows he will do his best to keep this one).

And then he is gone, leaving nothing but the darkness behind, hoping that one day they will wake up in a better world.

A/N: I totally believe that something like that^^ happened because there's no way he didn't contact her in all the time they were figuring out what to do with Ultron.

Feedback is always appreciated :)