Title: Nice Things
Rating: R
Summary: He was never the type to lie across the bed, exhausted and panting, while his partner gets up and does normal businesslike things.

Tony Stark has never, ever, been tired after sex. Fact of life. Women are fickle and exhaust easily. They're fun, right? For a few hours. That's why he so often needs more than one of them, just to keep him occupied for one night. It made sense at the time.

He was never the type to lie across the bed, exhausted and panting, while his partner gets up and does normal businesslike things. He was that partner, he was always the one getting up and going to the workshop, playing with some new idea--

"MIT's emailing me again, they want you to give a guest lecture on your research with Automated Learning Algorithims--"

"Pepper."

"Yes?"

"Boring. Get over here."

"You haven't even caught your breath yet."

"This is embarrassing. What was that, eight hours--?"

"Four and a half. And you slept the last half hour."

"I could swear it was longer."

"You got very tired."

"Can I just say I've been out of practice? All those months in captivity? The months since then?"

"Whatever makes you feel better about yourself, Tony."

He raises up on one elbow, staring at her. She's sitting in a chair, holding a laptop, wearing nothing.

"And just how can you keep it up so long? Who have you been practicing with?"

"MIT lecture," she says, ignoring him, not looking at him. Still smiling, damn her. "Yes or no?"

"I refuse to commit myself at this time," he says. "You're glowing, you know that? You look nice. Come look nice over here."

"You've also got a bunch of email from Rhodey--"

"Come do that thing where you look nice on top of me again."

"He wants to debrief you on a few things before you go on your next mission."

"Or you can do that nice thing we did on the kitchen table. That was very nice."

"You're too tired," she said. "You haven't slept since you got back from Afghanistan."

"There was the nice thing in the shower, too," he said. "Come on, Pepper, I'm sure we could both use a shower again."

"It's almost seven o'clock," she said. "I need to go home, do some things."

"You're supposed to be at work at seven," he said.

She looked up, still smiling. "Here I am," she said, but he had already sat up, frowning.

"And what things do you need to do?"

"Things," she said, her smile disappearing. "Do you know how often I have been in my apartment this week? Take a guess."

He was already standing up, stretching and yawning. "Do you know how many hours I've been here this week?" she continued, but she was staring at the laptop again, all traces of a smile gone. Her face was red up to her hairline.

"Are you blushing? Pepper, you're blushing."

"You're not wearing any clothes, Mr. Stark."

"Neither are you, Ms. Potts."

"I really have to go home--" she began.

"No, no going home," he said, pulling the laptop out of her lap. "You are home."

She felt her heart skip a beat and didn't say anything. He nuzzled her ear gently. "Will you do that nice thing you did in the shower again? Or that not-so-nice thing you did in the workroom, that's okay too--"

"Iron Man," she said, turning around so his lips were far from her ear. "Don't think this is what you get for running off and nearly getting yourself killed every day--"

"Ooh, you can do that again, too," he said. "I like that."

"What?" she asked, caught off guard.

"Call me Iron Man," he said. "See, that's not even anything overtly sexual, that's practically a job description--"

"I think," she said, silencing him, "that if we do anything we should start with you doing the thing you did in the living room."

"You mean the one where--"

"That one."

"I like that one."

"Maybe you won't get so tired this time."

"You are a terrifying woman, Ms Potts."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark."