Author's note: just to be clear, each chapter is a self-contained alternate universe. Which means, if you don't like this ending, another one will be along shortly. ;)

2. Patience

Unlike Tony, Pepper isn't hard-wired for infidelity; monogamy suits her just fine, actually. But life with Tony isn't monogamous, even when he's being completely faithful—she's caught in a ménage à trois with him and Iron Man. And Iron Man, it seems, doesn't like to share.

She spends a lot of time waiting around for Tony to get back from missions. She's not the type to play Penelope; however, her Odysseus assures her it won't take him ten years to get home, even if he isn't always able to provide an exact ETA. She and Happy get a lot of mileage out of jokes about Stark Standard Time. It's not ideal, but it is what it is, and Pepper adapts, just like she always has.

While she waits, Pepper keeps herself occupied. She gets very, very good at the New York Times crossword. Occasionally, she prepares a welcome-back meal in Tony's enormous kitchen—something that can be served cold or left to simmer if his return is delayed. She learns how to knit, and calculates how much time and yarn she would need to make him a sweater for Christmas.

Tony approves of these activities, and teases her about becoming domesticated. She isn't; she just needs something to do with her hands.

Even when he comes back physically, it can take a while before he's able to be emotionally present. As much as she appreciates his attentions, it isn't just his body she wants to spend time with.

She's alone at the house one night, all night. Tony is half-way around the world, blasting his way into some fortified bunker, the phone line heavy with static. He makes wisecracks, assures her it's no big deal. Tells her to describe what she's wearing. She's too wound up to banter, so she tells him the truth: she's wearing his MIT sweatshirt, the old one, with the holes in the sleeve that look like they were made by buckshot. She tells him to be careful. He says something, something that starts in 'I' and ends in '—ou,' but when she asks him to repeat it, he says it isn't a good connection and tells her to order pizza—he'll eat it whenever he gets back.

He breaks contact just after 2 a.m., and JARVIS can only guess at his location and status. Pepper's on edge, and she's frightened, and she's reached the point where she just wants to shut it all off. And so she takes a page from Tony's book—in fact, she takes three sheets, and she throws them to the wind.

Pepper can't remember the last time she tried scotch, but it still tastes like antiseptic. That goes away once she's had a few. She crunches the ice, the sound deafeningly loud in the empty house. The scent of sweat and liquor on her skin reminds her of crawling into bed beside Tony, and makes her feel a little bit sad and a little bit sexy all at once.

To buoy her spirits, she watches an old movie, a comedy. She calls Happy, her fellow traveller on this lonely night road, and invites him to come in from his post at the security gate. There's plenty of pizza, she tells him.

Happy has been in love with Pepper for years. Tony doesn't know, and even if he did, it wouldn't bother him; there's a whole legion of guys among the ranks of SI employees who are in love with Pepper to some degree. Probably a few women, too.

Pepper's always known. Ironically, when they first met, she tried to let him down gently by claiming she had a hard and fast rule about never dating co-workers. It was true, at the time. She isn't thinking about that right now, though—she just wants to see a friendly face.

Happy would never deliberately make a move on the boss's girl. He thinks of himself as a pretty honourable guy, besides which, he respects Pepper. A lot. Anyway, she's drunk, and that's not really his style.

Halfway through the movie, Pepper starts to sob—quietly at first, then louder as the film's romantic subplot starts to wind down. Happy gives her an awkward half-hug, keeping their bodies as far apart as possible. She scoots closer, snuggles up to him. "Thanks, Hap," she murmurs.

When she kisses him, she tastes like tears and expensive scotch. Happy just wants to comfort her, at first—just wants her to quit crying. Which she does, eventually. Then he's afraid to stop, because he knows what he's going to say when he does. He knows she doesn't want to hear it.

When Pepper pushes him down onto the couch and fumbles at his belt, he reasons that she's not that drunk. Probably.

Pepper goes to bed alone, just before dawn, and wakes up in the late afternoon with Tony's arm curled around her. The stippling of scabs on his hand and wrist matches the pock-marked sleeve of the sweatshirt she's still wearing.

Happy quits.

Pepper doesn't tell Tony about her lapse, because she doesn't want to hurt him, and because she hates to fail at anything. He figures it out a couple of months later, when she tells him she's pregnant.

Tony doesn't mind the cheating, so much; after all, these things happen. It's the disloyalty he can't forgive. He also resents the fact that it was Happy: he was a good driver, a good bodyguard, and he knew Tony's habits. The new guy talks too much.

Pepper doesn't question how Tony knows—she feels like she's been walking around wearing a scarlet letter. It was only a matter of time before he noticed.

He didn't notice: Pepper always said she didn't want kids, and so he's never told her, but one of the long-term side effects of palladium poisoning is sterility.