Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, not a thing. I just like pulling the strings while the real owners are not looking ^_^
A/N: Okay, so this is a series of drabbles of the same universe. I don't have the patience to make it a chaptered story so it's going to come in snippets. Of course if anyone is willing to take the ideas from this and expand it I'll be very happy to read it. These will probably be out of sync the further I get into these but for now they are in order of events.
Title: My suit doesn't have breasts
Category: Iron Man
Characters: Tony Stark, Virginia 'Pepper' Potts
Summary: Pepper does damage control
Words: 286
Tony sat watching the screen in front of him, picking up the remote he paused, rewound the tape and then played it multiple times, much to the annoyance of one Pepper Potts, who was sat on the seat across from him and was waiting for an answer to the question she had just asked. After the fourteenth time she snatched the remote from his hand and turned the screen off.
"It's not going to change no matter how many times you watch it." She ignored Tony's glare, "I've run interference, now are you going to tell me why you were flying around New York instead of being at a meeting in California?"
"That wasn't me." Pepper glared, "It really wasn't me, and it wasn't even Rhodey."
"Sure, I have confirmation that the Jet never left the runway, and unless there's another Iron Man out there then it had to have been you." Pepper paused, "You even have a suit that looks exactly like it." She motioned to the suits that were against the wall, especially the pure black one, Tony just grinned.
"It wasn't my suit, because my suit doesn't have breasts." Pepper growled in frustration before getting up and leaving, slamming the door behind her and rattling the glass. Tony continued to grin as he turned the screen back on and looked at the suit, it had paused on the only visible shot of the suit, and there as plain as day were the breast shaped mounds on the front of it. He tilted his head, now he had to figure out who had made it, and where they were controlling it from, because there was no way in hell someone could fit into the thing.
