Title: The Finer Things In Life
Author: firstflier
Theme: 92. Sound
Rating: PG-13
Length: 670 words
Summary: There still isn't silence, even when she has turned everything off; there is still one sound that his mind focuses on.
Author's Note: This is my first time posting in this comm and actually my first time posting Ironman fanfiction so any con-crit is greatly appreciated.
When he's working in his office or down in the workshop there is always a lot of noise.
It's loud and chaotic and helps him to focus.
Whether it's the soft purr of the Roll's engine running in the background, or the whizz and hum of machines, or even just his music blasting out of well positioned speakers it is always loud. Some days it hurts his ears but he likes to feel the pulse and pound across the back of his skull as he's working.
He knows that Pepper is glad he got most of the rooms in his house and office sound proofed a long time ago.
He doesn't tell her that loud music wasn't the original motivation for the thicker walls because that's all in the past and he has changed. He is a different man. He's not completely transformed; he's still Tony Stark. The Tony Stark that likes the attention of millions of people, likes having a new toy to play with that has outsmarted the government's top scientists, likes being in charge and likes telling Pepper not to turn his music down when she comes down to the workshop.
She never listens.
Maybe that's because there is no real meaning to his words; the ones that seem to be falling short of authoritative, short of a command or request. He doesn't mind that she doesn't listen to him. There still isn't silence, even when she has turned everything off; there is still one sound that his mind clings to. Even as she's talking he finds he can only concentrate on one thing.
The click of her heels on the floor as she strides around the workshop or office.
The noise is reassuringly sharp and conjures up images in his mind of thin ankles, slender calves, the curve of a knee, the line leading up past the hemline of a pencil skirt and makes his vision go a little hazy. Listening to her footsteps is like taking drags of some intoxicating drug that he can't get out of his system. After about a week he was completely addicted and now years have passed and he's not sure he could live without the sound ringing in his ears every day. It's gotten to the point that, when he hears her four inch heels from around a corner, he has to suppress a shudder.
Each step she takes is like a tiny clap and he thinks that maybe her shoes are applauding her ankles for not snapping in the contraptions Pepper straps them in to. It's a miracle really that she remains upright, let alone runs around the office all day in them.
He sometimes wonders if she has a pair of fluffy slippers at home that she would like to wear around his house but he soon realises he would miss the brutal snap of her feet against the floor. Despite the tempting image of such a domesticated Pepper, he quickly comes to the conclusion that the sound of her slippers slapping and shuffling against the floor would not be in quite the same vein as the heels.
He contemplates whether he could add a clause to her job description that would force her to just pace around the workshop for most of the day to satisfy his strange cravings for the click, click, click that follows her everywhere. The team down in legal may have something to say about that so it's back to the drawing board. Maybe he could just install marble floors absolutely everywhere and say he wanted something a little more extravagant and befitting of a billionaire such as himself.
After all, he's still Tony Stark; a man renowned for loving the finer things in life. Including the taste of champagne and the sound of high heels. Through careful research, that others may well regard as slightly stalker-ish, he has discovered that the higher the heel, the more satisfactory the noise.
And Pepper Potts wears just about the highest heels he's ever seen.
Or heard.
~Fin.