Title: Moniker
Author: Buzzlikebee19
Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Warning: None
Rating: PG/PG-13ish
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Iron Man related. Don't remind me.
Summary: Tony thinks about the way Pepper says his name
A/N: Overall, this took me about a month to complete from conception to publishing. Go me, I guess! This is just something I thought of randomly but I really like where it went.
He doesn't know what it is about when Pepper says his whole name, not just 'Tony' or 'Mr. Stark', but something about the way she says 'Anthony' is just…different. She doesn't say it often, but she's done it enough that he's mentally catalogued the situations and inflections of her voice from every time she's used his God-given name.
The first time she did it, she had been testing him to see if he was listening to her. He hadn't been. She was lecturing him about proper office etiquette and "why you can't tell a pregnant secretary that she's growing in all the right places" (in his defense, it was a joke, and how was he supposed to know she'd take it that way?). He was knee deep in engine parts, working on his newest restoration project when he heard, "It would at least be nice for you to face the person speaking to you, Anthony. That way you can at least pretend to care." Caught by surprise, he turned around quickly and looked at her. She stared right back. He cocked his head to the side and held his gaze a moment longer before asking, "What did you say?" Her face fell. "Why did I think you were even listening," she monotoned before turning around quickly and returning upstairs. She sounded disappointed, he thought, as he shrugged and went back to his task. He only wished he knew what she was saying to make her use his name that way.
Then there were the times she said it in investment meetings. These only came every blue moon, since there was rarely ever a business proposition that Tony felt was worth his time to listen to. On these days, he was up and dressed before Pepper even arrived at the mansion, diligently reviewing his notes and the emails Pepper sent him about the company. If she was surprised, she tried not to show it on her face as she offered a "Good morning Mr. Stark."
In the meetings, after she read the customary introductory paragraph she would say with a smile, "Our CEO, Mr. Anthony Stark." He would get up and mirror her smile as she switched positions with him. He would nod at her in thanks before beginning, feeling the pride in her smile, and hearing her voice in his head saying his name in that same way. He liked Potts' proud voice, though on the few times he dared to ask her about it, she told him she was surprised that he had managed to get his pants on earlier than five minutes before it was time to leave.
He remembered with startling clarity the way she said it in Greece. He had been out cold, shirtless on the floor of his Oceanside villa, when the sound of Pepper's heels echoing off the marble floor penetrated his consciousness. It was a fast clip, betraying her anger before she was even close enough for him to see her face. He thought he must be late for something. His hangover was preventing him from remembering exactly what though, and he tried to piece together the events of the last 24 hours.
Touching down at the private airport, arriving at the villa. Dinner with the Grecian minister of Defense, the second bottle of wine. "Tony Stark doesn't have a bed time, Pepper." Pepper leaving for the villa, saying "This isn't a vacation Tony." Funny, the pounding in his head sure reminded him of hangovers of vacations past.
The noise from her heels finally stopped reverberating in his head as Pepper's calves came into view. Before he could comment, she nudged his shoulder with her Louboutin-clad foot. "Tony, I told you we had this meeting. I can't believe you would still get completely trashed even after I said repeatedly how important this was. Well I guess I can believe it because it's just like you to intentionally do the opposite of what I say…" Tony tried to sit up and cut off the shrill tones of Pepper in full-on conniption mode, but he only managed to lean on his elbow and extend his hand to grab the closest part of Pepper he could reach; her ankle. "Whatever you're doing it is totally inappropria- oh no…" was the last thing she said as the billionaire held her ankle like a lifeline and suddenly threw up magnificently all over her feet. "Anthony!" She shrieked in disbelief, standing completely still, as if she didn't move she could pretend it didn't happen.
He wanted to say sorry. He did. But as the second wave of nausea started to rise he thought it more prudent to get up and dash though the open doors to the balcony and throw up over the edge. He thought he might have heard "I just bought these this morning!" Tony wasn't thinking about that though. He was thinking he'd have to remember to tell Pepper that it had been a good idea to get the property facing the private beach. Once he had finished, feeling entirely wrung out, he made his way to the bathroom to shower. He wasn't surprised to find the water running. He leaned against the wall and slid himself down to the floor, laying his head on his knees waiting for Pepper to come out. Sometime later Pepper did come out, looking as though she had gained a sense of calm in the act of washing her feet. He was glad, because he thought he might throw up again if her voice got back to conniption-frequency. She helped him up and looked him straight in the eye. "Are you alright now?" He nodded in response. Her tone coupled with the glint in her eye told him he was in Very Big Trouble. "I postponed your meeting until later this afternoon," she continued. "You're going to get dressed, and then we're going back to Louboutin to replace my shoes. You have thirty minutes." He hastened to comply. 24 hours, 3 pairs of shoes and $4267 later, Tony had found a new appreciation for designer heels, and a desire to never do something stupid enough to make Pepper say his name in that scary tone ever again.
The Pepper of his fantasies says his name a lot. Usually she's out of breath, near-whispering, "Tony, Tony, yes Tony." Occasionally, she throws him for a loop, murmuring "Oh Anthony!" as he imagines caressing the most intimate parts of her. The peak of his arousal surprises him every time, and he still struggles to catch his breath in his post-orgasm shower, wondering what Pepper would call him if he ever did get into bed with her.
He absolutely loves to hear her say it when he's sleeping. He always starts off that way, at least. She'll come into the workshop with a sigh, seeing him flopped out on the couch having finally succumbed to exhaustion after working non-stop for hours or days on end. He tends to lose track of time in the windowless workshop, and a part of him likes it that way. She walks over to him, sighing again, and he can feel her eyes running over him, checking for any new bruises or cuts he may have gotten. Every so often she'll put her hand to his forehead, just to make sure he isn't coming down with something. This particular time however, she deviates from the norm. She sits on the couch, cards her fingers though his hair over and over and breathes "Oh Anthony, what am I going to do with you?" He tries to keep his breathing even, afraid to let her know he's awake, though his heart rate has accelerated well beyond the normal bpm. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. You've got to tell me what you need..." He doesn't know what's making him feel worse; the fact that Pepper only feels like she can open to him when he's unconscious, or the wet spots he can feel on his shirt, alerting him to the fact that she's started to cry. That's not okay. He stretches out luxuriously, with his hands above his head. "Mmm, baby, I love it when you say my name."
"You've been awake this whole time?" she asks accusingly, removing her hand from his hair. "No," he replies smartly, sitting up as she moves over. "Well I was coming down to see if you wanted some food, but I think it would be better if you went to sleep. And no, I'm not joining you," she says cutting him off before he can do more than smirk at the implication. "You're no fun, Pep. But I could eat. What are we ordering?" "Home-made sandwiches. I'm tired of eating out. Unless you don't want that?" she queries, a slight note of worry in her voice as she stands. "No that's perfect," he says sincerely, looking up at her. Okay I'll bring it down when I'm done." "Thanks. Hey Pep?" "Yes?" She spins on her heel and replies. "I…I mean it" For a moment they just look at each other, each waiting for the other to move. Then, "Yes…well, will be all Mr. Stark?" "Yes Miss Potts, it will."
She gives him a small smile as she continues up the stairs. As he listens to the click of her heels fade, Tony finally realizes what it is about the way she says his name that makes it different. When she says it, it's almost like a promise, like the one she made to always look after him. He's assured beyond a doubt; that just like he's protected because of how much she cares for him; when Pepper says his name, he knows that it is safe in her mouth.