AN: I don't know where this came from honestly. It just had to be put out there. Not sure if it will continue or if anything will come out of it, but I felt a burst of inspiration. Enjoy

-O-O-O-

Oh Love – Green Day

-O-O-O-

Everyone had expected him to run wild. To traipse across campus, strutting around the place like he owned it. And he tried. He put on the façade for his mother, just to make her feel better in hopes she didn't think he son was a total failure at having a social life. The Big Man on Campus. In reality, he didn't fit in anywhere. The Physics Club was a bunch of nerds; Tony was smart, but by no means did he associate with the coke-bottle-lensed, greasy-haired kids. Then there was the party scene. None of them desired to be seen with a fifteen year old grad student with a fake ID and a knack for making up stories just to get off. Tony was scrawny, slim, and lanky. Just right for his age, but college boys had long since left the awkward years of puberty behind, while Tony was still haunted by the occasional crack in his voice when answering a question in Calc.

His mother insisted their neglect of him stemmed from jealousy. That was straight out of the Mothers' Ancient and Pointless Advice Handbook. But what did he have that they were jealous of? In his mind, when he was jealous—which was rare—he'd suck up and schmooze to gain some favors. At least that's how Dad did it. The truth was that they hated him. They hated him because he was so smart, putting them all to shame. They didn't want a kid tagging along with them to bars, so he was often invited and then forgotten, if included at all.

Weekends were hell. The campus was dead. The library or the lab was the only place of redemption where he could waste hours of time. Always alone, but surrounded by machines. Machines were easy. Robots were perfect friends; he could have interaction without the mess of friendship. Without any emotional attachment. Machines he could control, but humans were unpredictable, outside the laws of binary code. They were outside the laws of physics; anything against those laws was unknown and difficult. He told himself it was easier to be alone. With no tethers or ties. He liked it that way.

He hated it.

He hated that he was almost ten years younger than anyone in his field. Hated that his research surpassed theirs by decades, but was often overlooked by professors. Hated that no matter how hard he tried to gain a girlfriend, they were all turned away by his sly lines and slick hands. He was stuck. Trying to find himself in a world of older women and spiteful fellows. He didn't know who he was, didn't know where he was supposed to fit in.

Sons of the wealthy were supposed to have it easy. So why was college so damned hard?

He tossed his soldering iron into its slot and stood. It was almost three in the morning and the janitors would be here soon. He intended on leaving the building unseen; no matter how much clout he held with his professor, it still wouldn't look good to be wandering around the lab at such late hours on a school night. Technically, he didn't have jurisdiction in this part of the lab, but rules were made to be broken anyways.

He tugged his crimson scarf around his neck and pulled on his wool coat upon exiting to the bitter Massachusetts winter. There had been no snow yet, a surprise and a rarity for the beginning of November. He dreaded this time of year. Where he could stop living in his own little world and be forced home to Long Island for the holiday break.

He hated that too.

In the dim light of campus, he didn't see the bike or hear the clatter of the fenders before it hit him. His vision was blurred by an explosion of red hair, and hands gripped his jacket while the young female tried to steady herself.

"Oh geeze! Shoot shoot shoot! I'm so sorry!" she shouted, voice bouncing and echoing around the circle of hallowed halls.

Her bike had crashed against the pavement, pedals still circling. He grabbed her forearms, trying to steady her and push her into brighter light so he could get a good look at her.

But she turned away quickly, pushing her tangled and wind-blown hair behind her ears and bending to pick up her bike.

"You ok?" he finally asked.

"Yes, yes…I'm fine…" she stammered, voice hurried and…scared?

"Well…be careful," he said, giving up on asking for a name.

She righted her bicycle, and threw one leg over it. Behind her blush and wind-reddened skin, he could see freckles.

She had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Then she smiled. "Oh. Wow. Now I feel totally stupid…" She laughed and pushed her hair back again, turning away. In the lamplight, he saw faded tear tracks. "You're Tony Stark. Damn…" She chuckled to herself.

"Correct. And you are?" he asked boldly.

"Virginia, but…um…it's Pepper, I guess. So…" She let out another nervous laugh and placed one foot on the pedal, ready to take off.

"Hi, Virginia," he said awkwardly. "Girls crashing their bikes into me at 3am doesn't happen often. You sure everything's ok?" He usually wouldn't ask, wouldn't even care, but it was early—or late—and strange women riding away from the men's dormitory crying wasn't the norm.

He didn't miss the thumb that wiped at her left eye, even though she tried to pass it off casually. "Yes. I'm perfectly fine, thank you." Her voice was steadier and braver.

"OK, well…I'll see you around then…Pepper…"

She gave a quick nod and pedaled away. But Tony couldn't ignore the strange tug in his chest that he should've done more. Could've helped out more. But just as soon as he felt it, it was gone. He didn't owe her anything. If anything, she was the one who needed to apologize for mowing him down with her bicycle. Oh well. Chances were he'd never see her again. No harm, no foul.