Coincidences, as far as he was aware, did not simply just fall from the sky. Not like he did. In Tony's experience, they tended to amble along and show up in a positive fashion when you didn't need or want them to - but ultimately failed to demonstrate the power of fate and universal luck when you most needed them to. Now, for example, was one of those moments. Tony had not woken up this morning- no, in fact, Tony had never even gone to sleep - but the point was that as far as he recalled, he had not sent up any requests, subconscious or otherwise, for Captain America to come hang around his lobby. The moment Tony had exited the elevator on one of his ventures into public domain, he was confronted with the sight of Steve Rogers standing rather than sitting over by the waiting area. After a brief, inquisitive scan of the seating arrangements, Tony had realised the sofas and armchairs to all be occupied by pregnant or elderly women - and so the mystery of Captain America standing rather than sitting had been solved. Of course he was. Steve Rogers was, perhaps, the nicest guy he'd ever met. Not that Tony could ever admit such a thing in a vocal sense.

Tony wasn't even sure why he was focusing on completely nonsenical, unimportant things like the reason why Cap was standing rather than sitting - but he hadn't slept in almost 49 hours, and even bonafide geniuses needed their beauty sleep. It occurred to him, suddenly, that he was still stood stationary in front of the lift. As he was Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, aka the owner and proprietor of this building, aka one of The Avengers, aka, aka, aka... people were making a painstakingly impatient yet orderly line as they waited for him to move so they could use the lift. It took a moment for him to register their intention, blinking at them in a state of incomprehension - but then his mind sparked it's way back into gear and he slipped the usual bravado on, and offered them all a lopsided smile of sorts, a hand raised and then placed on his own chest by way of signalling his unspoken his apology.

It was a wonder in itself that somehow Steve had yet to notice Tony stood stock still over by the elevator the way that he was. Tony was staring rather unashamedly in his disoriented-bordering-on-mildly-delirious state, and he didn't have to be a genius to notice that people were starting to look between them. A small, tightening panic started to build in his chest, his eyes sweeping across the lobby for any sign of escape or shelter. The telltale flash of vivid redheaded locks resounded almost desperately in his line of sight, and he made an immediate dash for where Pepper was sat at the desk. He ducked behind her, crouching down behind her desk chair.

"Please tell me you're awake and not having another insane sleep-walk adventure," Pepper monotoned, not once taking her eyes away from her work. Tony knew her well enough to know she wasn't being callous or cruel, but rather that she was demonstrating a lack of reaction for his sake. She knew he valued to be normal, and she knew when he was hiding from something. When he didn't answer, and instead gave an exasperated splutter, Pepper continued, "So what is it this time? Did you hack into Apple again?"

Tony rolled his eyes. She could be more melodramatic than even he, sometimes.

"Once, Pepper. I did that once. And only because their new models possessed the same curvature and design properties as my-"

"Tony, I know. I was the one to explain and simplify it to the lawyer, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Did I say thanks for that? Probably not. Thanks. I'll buy you some strawberry free flowers later."

"Why would there be strawberries involved in a bouqet of flowers?"

"You tell me, Pep. No, actually- tell me how I'm somehow an eccentric, insanity-ridden liability when there are people out there who invented adding strawberries to floral arrangements."

"You seem to be upset."

Tony dismissed that notion with a gesture, shaking his head in a short, swift motion as he was still distracted by keeping his eyes on Steve. "Nah. Delirious."

Pepper nodded methodically, biting down on but never chewing the lid of her pen. "Once again you've managed to talk about everything but the one thing I've asked you. So Tony, please... I have work to do." She trailed off when he spared her an affronted look, and at the same time she seemed to realise how her words had sounded. "Okay, so, I'm also trying to order you a birthday present and it's hard enough to find something you'd want without you seeing my list and dismissing every single thing I've looked at."

"You're the best present I could ask for, Pep."

"Oh, my God. You're kissing ass. What do you want?"

"Have you, by any chance, noticed a certain Golden Boy hanging around like a model for existence in the lobby?"

Pepper glanced up, briefly, but not long enough to be considered staring, and then averted her eyes back down to the screen of her computer. Pepper was, fortunately, one of those people you could trust not gawk at people you were talking about. Tony was glad to have her in his-

"I'm not helping you with your homoerotic tension thing with Captain America."

Tony's gratitude for Pepper's existence dropped into the very core of the Earth. He bristled, trying to locate one of her shins so that he could kick it. "Listen-" he was spluttering again. Tony Stark did not splutter. He could see Pepper's eyebrows raising even turned away from him the way that he was. He scowled at her back, still hunkered down behind her chair. The other staff members knew better than to acknowledge his presence, or react to his being there. It was surprisingly a more regular occurrence than he liked to admit.

"You're fired."

"No, I'm not."

"Just-" Tony gave a groan of extreme frustration, and gestured maniacally with his hands. If he had a flat surface, he would-

Tony crawled round so that he was next to Pepper in the space now, instead of behind her, and elevated himself up onto his knees so he could rest his arms on the desk and tap his fingers rapidly on the cool surface of the wood. Finally, a coping mechanism. Pepper rolled her eyes, letting out her 'I'm-just-going-to-humour-him-to-make-him-go-away' sigh.

"Do you want me to find out why he's here, Tony?"

Tony's tongue darted out to wet the expanse of his lower lip. "Maybe."

When Pepper returned, Tony was reclined in her desk chair, swinging around - his fingers tapping frantically on the arm rests. He got to her feet as she neared him, gaze expectant and form twitchy.

"He's here to see you, Tony. Obviously."

"Oh."

"You never hid from me when we were together."

"I could give you at least 100 reasons right now as to why that would have been a beyond terrible idea."

"I'm glad you're aware of that fact. Adds credence to you possessing survival instincts."

"Thanks, Pep. Really."

She waved a manicured hand, tossing away the acknowledgement of the favour the way she usually did. She was faithful and loyal and she understood him like not many others did. He really didn't know what he'd do without Pepper Potts. Kissing her cheek as he made to pass her by, Tony almost made it past her before she yanked him back and sorted his appearance out for him before once more releasing him. As previously stated: Tony really didn't know what he'd do without Pepper Potts.

The walk over to Steve was like dragging himself through quick sand. Why was he here? Had Tony messed up again? Was he off the team? Had something bad happened?

Tony shuddered, a reflexive twitch to body jerking through him at the thought.

"Beloved," Tony greeted, feeling himself metaphorically lifted from the quick sand he'd been trudging through at the recipience of Steve's smile.

"What does a guy have to do around here to get a meeting with the genius who owns this place?"

Tony shoved a hand in his pocket, jerking his thumb behind him to gesture in Pepper's direction, "Bug Pepper. Compliment her hair. She likes it when people notice she's done something with it."

"I'm going to be honest, Tony. Pepper Potts scares me."

Tony shrugged, nodding at the relatability of such a statement, "Well, she scares me into functioning, so..."

There was a silence that was uncharacteristic for them both. Usually their conversation flowed easily, their banter always only just verging on flirtation. Today seemed different. Steve looked serious.

Tony gulped. "What did I do this time? Had to be something pretty bad to get Captain America on my doorstep."

"At least it wasn't Hulk with orders to Smash."

"Or Natasha."

"Why are the women in our lives so scary?"

"You're doing the thing I do with Pepper to distract her, aren't you, Cap?"

"Uh, no?"

"Yup."

"Listen-"

Tony tilted his head, brow furrowing. He'd never seen Steve look nervous or uncomfortable outside of a warzone. He shifted about, Steve's discomfort proving contagious, and slid his other hand into it's subsequent pocket.

"Do you... want... to..."

"Yes."

"What? You didn't even-"

"Yes."

"What if I'd wanted to challenge you to a fight to the death?"

"Still would've been a yes."

"A museum trip?"

"Yes."

"There's no way your ADHD could take-"

"Cap, I'm trying to tell you it's a yes as long as you're going to be there."

"Oh."

"Come on, I haven't slept in two days. What's your excuse?"

"I should have known asking you out for coffee would never be simple."

"Obviously. Have you met me?"

"Unfortunately, I've had the misfortune to fall for you."