I've finally come up with a Jealous Pepper story arc, for those who have requested it. And, you know me! I'll sink you to the depths before I pull you up to the peaks, so hang on! It's going to be a bumpy ride!

(Just an added author's note: This one will be written from first person Tony, first person Pepper, and possibly third person omnipotent. We'll see how it works out. Hope that doesn't get too confusing! But I'm craving a POV challenge!)

Happy Reading! :D

I can hear them. Again. And it's beginning to wear on me. And, really, I don't understand it. He's never been this indiscreet around me. I know what you're thinking. Yeah, right. The great Tony Stark, not taking every opportunity to be an exhibitionist? Come on. But really. When he's brought them home in the past, he's always excused me for the night. And I thought that was just our unwritten rule. Out of respect, until I'm left to shuffle them out the door the next day. And so on, and so on, as it's been for years. But this time has been different. She's hung on. And what's more surprising? He's let her. Which has me completely confused.

"Oh! Yes! Yes! Oh! God! Yes!" I hear her howl from behind his bedroom door, and I mouth the words verbatim as she says them, and roll my eyes. She's nothing if not consistent! I'll give her that! But hasn't he noticed how predictable she is by now? Isn't this starting to get a bit boring for him yet? Shut up, Pepper. It's none of your concern. Maybe she's managed to hold his attention for the past couple of days, yes, but I know Tony. It won't be long before he moves on to the next shiny object, and she'll be yesterday's trash that I'll have to put out to the curb. Just like so many others, she'll be no different. So it'll be fine. Soon, little miss predictable will be a foregone conclusion, and I can finally get some peace and quiet around here.

Just then, Tony emerges from the bedroom and I spot him at the top of the stairs, in nothing but his drawstring pajama bottoms, all sweaty, flushed, and panting. And I'm frozen, suddenly embarrassed by the fact that he now knows I've been listening. He glances at me and smirks, as he jogs down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, my eyes following him from where I'm sitting in the living room, my laptop balanced on my lap, but my hands suspending above the keys. "Thirsty work," I hear him mutter, grabbing a bottle of spring water from the fridge, cracking it open, and guzzling it down. He wipes his mouth and struts back toward the living room. He smiles, cocking a knowing eyebrow at me, and I roll my eyes. He sits down on the sofa beside me, and I pretend to suddenly be concentrating on what's on my screen, though it's only the login page for my email account. I click open my inbox, and I see out of the corner of my eye that he's watching me. I can hear him breathing.

"Where's...um..." I start, intentionally forgetting her name. I know her name. How could I not? He's only yelled it about a million times behind that blasted bedroom door. And behind the door of the shop. And one of the guest rooms. And honestly? I've tried really hard not to be around. But this morning I have to be. It's the end of the month, and I need his signature on some shipping mandates. They trickle in from the different departments every month like this, so I causes me to have to go back and forth between the office and the mansion the entire week, so he can sign them as they come in. I can't stamp these. I can't sign for him. He has to be the one to sign these. I don't have a choice.

"Vanessa?" he offers. I nod. "Sleeping," he answers, smirking. "She's exhausted," he says proudly.

"Uh-huh," I say, trying not to make eye contact. My annoyance with what he's subjected me to in the last few days is starting to give me a tension head ache. I roll my neck from side to side, and massage it with one of my hands. He frowns. "You okay?" he asks.

"Fine. I'm fine," I say, maybe a little too sternly.

He must have picked up on my tone because he raises his hands up in surrender. "Okay, Potts. Okay. Don't get testy," he says.

I frown. "I'm sorry, Tony," I say, this time intending it to sound stern. "But it's a little hard to get anything done when you are so frequently indisposed." I nod in the direction of the bedroom and quirk an eyebrow at him.

He smiles at me and then smiles fondly as he moves his eyes to the top of the stairs "I know, it's weird, right? I guess I don't really...mind her being around. Funny," he muses. A knot suddenly inexplicably grows in my stomach. I think I'm going to be sick. "She's...really something," he coos, to himself really. I pretend I don't hear him.

"She's smart, you know. Got a degree in nuclear physics at 14. Studied at Oxford. And she's in line to be the CEO of Matthews Energy in London," he reports.

"Yes, I'm aware," I say indifferently, still not looking at him. "And Matthews? Isn't that her last name?" I remind him.

"Yet another thing we have in common," he says fondly. "Being children of industrial tycoons, I mean. Glad to know I have a kindred spirit in the world."

I frown, and raise my eyes to look at him. He doesn't notice, so I look at him for a moment longer, a black cloud coming over my head with the dark realization that Vanessa no longer seems like just another play thing to him. No, not this time. This time is different. Could it be true? Could he actually be falling for this girl?

He sighs happily, and I keep my eyes trained on him, frowning. Soon, he shifts his eyes back to me and smiles. I turn my head back to my computer screen, without response.

"Doesn't she have to go back to London soon, Tony? She was only in town for the global energy symposium, and that was it. Right?" I say, trying to hide my hopefulness.

I see him shrug in my periphery, and he leans forward smoothing a hand over his goatee, and smirking knowingly. "And whose to say I can't go with her?" he says.

That's it. I exhale sharply, not believing what I'm hearing. I turn to look at him sternly. "Are you kidding?" I ask. "You couldn't pick a worse time to leave town! You know we clear the schedule every month, so you're available to authorize all of the new orders!"

He shrugs again, in defiant indifference. "Stop doing that," I say firmly. "This is ridiculous! And what on earth are you going to do in London?"

He smirks. "Oh, we'll manage to find something to do, I'm sure," he purrs.

I scoff in disgust. "Fine," I say. "Traipse off to London, then. At least I won't have to hear you two screwing here," I bark, as I stand up off the couch, quickly gather my things, and storm toward the front door, leaving him staring at me from the living room.

I yank open the door, and stomp outside to my car, slamming all of the files, my computer, my briefcase, and my purse in the backseat, scattering it. But I don't care. I can't take this anymore with him today. I jerk open the driver's side door, and plunk down heavily in the seat, yanking the door closed. But I don't start the car. I just sit there, grinding my teeth and trying to fight the hot tears from coming on and stinging my eyes. But it's no use. My shoulders begin to shake and I start to sob. I grip the wheel helplessly as I cry bitterly. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I let him occupy so much space in my mind? Tony doesn't want me. Clearly. Not to mention he's all wrong for me! He's impulsive and selfish, and has no consideration for other people, and he's always calling me in the middle of the night with these ridiculous requests. And don't EVEN get me started on all of the bad press he's generated over the years! It's a wonder I'm not in a mental hospital somewhere! In a nutshell, he is completely, and unequivocally...

I sigh. Who am I kidding? He's wonderful. And I know. I sound like an idiot. But if you only knew all of the sleepless nights I spent hurting because of him, for him, and about him, for that matter, you'd understand. I...love him. There. I said it. And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. We're so wrong for each other. It would never work. We'd end up killing each other, sooner or later. He's wild. I'm responsible. He's impetuous. I'm sensible. He's fiery and electric, and passionate, and vibrant and I'm...

I sigh again, and turn the key in the ignition of my car. I'm none of those things. I'm just his assistant.

I put my car in drive and pull out of the drive way, glancing back in the rear view as I pull away. I frown at what I see. My eyes must be playing tricks on me, because I swear I just saw a glimpse of Tony in the window beside the front door as I leave.