A/N: So, I was watching Iron Man over the last couple of days (way too busy...) and this popped into my mind this morning. I'm thinking movie verse (first, because I really wasn't fond of the second one), but it might be either one. I obviously don't own Iron Man, only this little idea. Enjoy. =)
Not Like Him
Pepper Potts had taken in a cat against her better judgment. He'd been sitting outside of her apartment, looking up at her pitifully without collar or friend other than the deluge that fell from the sky. She warned him it'd only be for the night. She was a busy woman and she'd have no time for a pet.
The cat, small and black with shining blue eyes, made himself quite at home on her wood floors. He sat down and began preening immediately without thought of onlookers.
As Pepper moved to the kitchen to check and see if the milk might still be within its date and to fumble around her bare pantry for anything the small, purring creature could eat, a thought struck her: She had always liked cats. They were independent animals, whose need for caretaking was not as strong as others. With a frown she reached up for her one can of tuna that was left on the top shelf and realized that this little cat was more independent than some people that she knew: namely her boss.
A cat, if left to its own outside, could scrounge for food and water. It could find shelter if it chose, and company when it liked. It was entirely self-sufficient even as a domestic animal.
Tony, on the other hand, desperately needed something. Granted, he'd begun to fill that something with more than his usual vices – though Pepper couldn't argue that it was any healthier of actions on his part – but he still relied fully on his red-headed assistant for... everything. She had told him once that he could never get on a day without her. He'd argued when she'd brought up the fact that he didn't even know his own social security number, and then proven her correct only a moment later. He needed someone to keep his schedules, make sure he was awake in the morning to make those scheduled meetings, to make sure that he ate properly, to assure that his clothing made it to the dry cleaners, and for general maintained of his person that he really gave little care for. He needed someone that would watch him when he teetered on the brink of depression, a bottle of very old scotch the only comfort he sought.
Then there were his "missions." He never asked for Pepper to wait into the wee hours of the morning – often falling asleep at his home rather than hers – for him to return and to help him in whatever way he would never admit he needed. He would never ask, but she knew he needed her.
The cat mewed at Pepper's feet and she realized that she was holding the tuna thoughtfully, having opened it in a tempting manner. She rolled her eyes and set it down only to watch the little animal devour it. "Maybe you are a bit like Tony," she mused.
A smile began to perk her lips as the cat continued to eat, eventually moving on to the milk and happily drinking it and purring the whole way. When he was done he moved to rub against her leg and purr. "Maybe you could teach him a thing or two though," she murmured as she reached down to scratch the cat behind the ears.
Her phone rang, startling both her and the happy animal at her feet. Tony's grinning face showed up on the caller ID and she sighed, good-naturedly rolling her eyes as she answered.
"Pepper, I need you."
She smiled at the words and glanced down at the cat who stared with big, blue eyes back up at her. "Tony, how do you feel about cats?"
A/N: I'm a review addict. Seriously. Feed the addiction.
TS
