"Who's Happy?"
The moment the words leave his mouth, Tony realizes he's said the wrong thing. Pepper pulls away and looks at him. Her face is a carefully blank mask. He's seen that look before, when he's staggered into the office after a long night with Mr. Daniels and Mr. Guinness. It's always made him feel two inches tall, and this time is no exception. "You don't remember?" she whispers softly.
Tony shakes his head. He hates himself for forgetting. He really hates Osborn for making him delete his brain piece by piece to keep what's left of the superhero world safe from that scumbag. He grabs a pen and a blank Post-it note. "Tell me about him."
Pepper looks from Tony's face to the pen in his hand and back. When she speaks, her voice is flat and toneless, like the recorded voice he'd gotten the one time he called Stark Enterprises customer service. The next day he'd banned automated telephone service at SE. He remembers why now. "Happy Hogan was your driver. You said he was your conscience once. I was married to him. He's dead now."
Tony writes. He furrows his brow, trying to remember, but it's no use. Pepper's words don't ring any bells. Happy has been utterly, irretrievably erased from his mind. It isn't the first time he's forgotten people, of course. He knows that he's slept with dozens -- maybe hundreds -- of beautiful women, but he can't remember any of them. Not in a "they all blur together after a while" way, either. It's like they never existed. But it sounds like Happy was important to him. How many more important people is he going to forget before this is over?
Pepper seems to know what he's thinking, as usual. "Tony? How bad is it going to get? Are you going to forget Rhodey? Steve? Me?"
He doesn't want to. Oh God, he doesn't want to. Rhodey is one of his best and oldest friends. There were moments, in the months after Steve's death, that Tony wished he could forget him, put an end to the guilt, and start sleeping at night again. But now that the possibility is before him, he finds he doesn't want it. Forgetting Steve would mean forgetting not just the Civil War, but all the good times, too. And Pepper? He won't let himself think about that. Sometimes, when he's flying from armory to armory, he dreams that maybe the process he's subjecting himself to will stop degrading his intelligence and spare his most precious memories. In his happier moments, he even dreams that it can be reversed. Stranger things have happened. For over fifty years, everyone thought Bucky Barnes was dead. Now, he's Captain America. How many times has a member of the X-Men, any member of the X-Men, come back from the dead? But saving his mind would take a miracle, and he's got a funny feeling that God or whoever's in charge doesn't like him much.
That doesn't mean he's going to lie down and die. The more memories he has of those he loves, the longer it will take before they are stripped from his mind. Steve is dead. He has no idea where Rhodey is. But Pepper is here. For now, that's enough.
He brushes a thumb against her cheek. Her skin is warm and soft. Good to know. He can feel the slight dampness from where she's been crying. Not so good. He moves down slowly, tracing her jaw. Pepper shudders but doesn't stop him. His hands play across her face, memorizing the ridges and valleys. This is how blind people learn what someone looks like, he thinks. Maybe it's a better way. The fact that Pepper has an almost invisible bump on her nose suddenly seems way more important than that she has red hair.
Pepper pulls back. Her face is no longer blank. It's a curious mixture of surprise, grief, and ... something else. "What's going on?"
"I want to do this while I still can. While it still means something."
It's like he's flipped a switch. One moment, Pepper is staring at him. The next, she's leaning over him and shoving her tongue down his throat. Tony feels the blood in his brain rapidly rush south. This is wrong. Tony knows it. What kind of man sleeps with a woman after she's just finished telling him about her dead husband? They've never had sex before -- hell, even graduating from flirting to kissing and a relationship of sorts is a pretty recent development. He doesn't want to muck it up. But he's Tony Stark, and doing the right thing has always been hit or miss. He's never been good at denying himself what he wants for some noble goal. Right now, he wants Pepper. He wants the memory of driving into her and to hold onto it for as long as he can.
Pepper breaks the kiss and looks at him. She's almost but not quite smiling. The sheet she's been wearing slips from her, exposing her breasts. Tony makes an appreciative sound in the back of his throat. Pepper's smile widens by the smallest fraction. "While it still means something," she agrees.
They don't talk much after that. He finishes pulling the sheet off and tosses it to the floor. His pants and boxers take a bit more work, and finally Pepper just yanks them off, and she's leaning over him again. The magnet in her chest casts a slight glow over everything. Tony almost makes a crack about nightlights but thinks better of it. That might ruin the mood and cause them to regain their sanity. He doesn't have time for hearts and flowers, or dinner and dancing. He doesn't even have time for proper foreplay.
Neither does Pepper. She lowers herself onto him with a gasp. She's hot and slick and .... Tony's brain checks out and it has nothing to do with his dementia. He pumps in and out, faster and faster. It's like riding a bicycle; you never really forget how to do it. Long after he's forgotten how to fly even the crudest armored suit or use a screwdriver, he will remember how to do this. Pepper is panting now and saying something that sounds like "more" or maybe "good." He feels her clench around him and the pants turn to hoarse, guttural groans. As broken as he is, he can still get a girl off. Tony has almost no time to feel smug before his own climax overtakes him.
After, Pepper collapses on top of him with a little sigh. She feels heavy, but Tony doesn't really mind. An elephant could be lying on top of him and he wouldn't mind. He strokes her hair. It's soft and damp with the exertion of flying halfway around the world, nearly getting shot at, and capping the day off with a round of quickie sex. He wonders if he should tell her that that sort of thing is par for the course for superheroes. Nah. She'd probably slap him. Instead, he says, "You okay?"
She shifts off him and sits up. "Yeah, I'm fine." She smiles again. "Next time, you buy me dinner first."
Next time? Yes, there's going to be a next time. He'll make sure of it -- somehow. Doing the impossible is his job as both Iron Man and head of Stark Enterprises. They'll make it work. There might even be a bed involved next time. "Okay."
They clean up as best they can and Pepper heads off in search of some clothes. Tony almost hopes she won't find anything that fits. He goes into his makeshift bedroom and tosses on some clothes of his own. Somebody has to chop the firewood, and he's not the one who flew to Russia nonstop today. On his way back, he notices the pen and Post-it notes still lying on the table. He almost passes them by, but thinks better of it. Just in case. He writes:
Virginia "Pepper" Potts. Codename: Rescue. Professional life saver. Try to keep this one.