I love writing dialogue, and these characters make it so easy. Thank you for all the fabulous reviews and comments. I only hope I can live up to your expectations. You guys rock! Enjoy!

He slept for the afternoon on top of the covers and the sun was just disappearing over the water when his eyes opened. No dreams, but no nightmares either. It seemed like a fair trade. Pulling on some soft clothing Tony shuffled into the kitchen.

"Hello there Mr. Ninja."

He jumped at the sound of her voice and quickly smoothed down the edge of his shirt he'd been playing with. "What?"

Pepper smiled unabashedly at the man standing before her. "You're dressed in all black."

"Well you know what they say, it's terribly slimming." Tony turned to the side and struck a pose. Pepper shook her head and turned back to the veggies she was chopping. He watched her while leaning against his sleek fridge. She too was in sweatpants and an old tee-shirt, though compared to her clothing his was much more expensive. Her hair was pulled back into an informal bun and she was shoeless, a light from above casting her in an almost angelic glow. Even though it was hours later, and she had no doubt showered, Tony was sure his assistant smelled like the sun. "What are you still doing here?"

"Like I told you this morning, my apartment is having some work done so I'm staying here for a while."

Tony came over to her a picked up a carrot from the cutting board. "Really? What happened to your apartment?"

"Oh, just some water damage from the apartment above. Then I'm having some work done."

He leaned his back against the counter so they could face each other. "What kind of work?"

"My, aren't you inquisitive tonight."

Another carrot went into the mouth with a shrug. "I'm curious, you know, like a cat or something."

"If you must know, I'm having a bigger bathtub put in. With jets. It seems like I've had some more stress in my life lately."

Tony snorted. "Sure, but the real question is if the tub is big enough for two."

"Hey now, I wouldn't be asking so many personal questions of a woman with a very large knife in her hands."

"My mistake, my mistake." There was a bit of silence, and Tony wondered if he should ask the question on his mind. "Hey," he gave her a little shove, "all this extra stress in your life. It's mostly my fault, right?"

"Mr. Stark, I…"

"Answer me."

She set down the knife and looked at him, half frustrated, half relaxed. "Yes."

"Why do you put up with me?"

Pepper put a hand on her forearm, and he reveled in its warmth. "I don't know. But I'm here, aren't I."

"True enough." Tony looked down at where their bodies touched. His arm flexed a little, and her fingers slid off as she went back to chopping. "So, you're cooking dinner?"

"Yes."

"I could have something delivered."

"I don't mind. Why don't you go downstairs and tinker with your toys while I finish up."

"Alright." He wanted to stay in the warmth of the kitchen and her calming presence. It had been a long time since a woman had stood in his kitchen and cooked. He had vague memories of his mother handing him scraps while he sat writing equations near the stove. But those were thoughts too dangerous to think of at night, without alcohol, so he left the protective halo of Pepper's presence and retreated to his shop.

XXXXXXXXXX

While no boyfriend ever raved about her mastery in the kitchen, Pepper Potts knew her way around, well, a pot. It would be nice to say that her slight prowess came from sitting next to GrammiePotts elbow and in a starched lily white dress. But the truth was that she had finally gotten her own apartment after college and discovered that a woman can't live on ramen noodles and pre-sliced fruit alone.

And then she had found a listing for an eccentric billionaire playboy's assistant…and here she was, sliding a chicken into the oven while waiting for the floor to rumble from the machinations of her boss' more extreme hobby.

Pepper stretched out on the couch and a blanket over her legs. "Would you like me to turn down the air conditioning Ms. Potts?"

Pepper shook her head, "No, a blanket seems just right."

"Yes Ms. Potts."

She looked out over the ocean, head on her hand. "Jarvis?"

"Yes."

"Have you been keeping track of how Mr. Stark is sleeping like I asked?"

"I have."

"And?"

"No changes to speak of. I can show you the log I've kept on the window."

"No no, that's OK. Has he, I don't know, talked to you?"

"We speak often about his work and the various projects for which I am in charge of."

"I'm sorry; I should have been more specific. I meant personal things."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's right for me too…"

"Of course, Jarvis. That's all." Before he'd disappeared, she might have made a crack to Jarvis about how ironic it was that Tony had implanted a morality chip in his computer but not himself. But that seemed like a long time ago. Now, Tony had changed, some of it for the better for certain. But some for the worse as well, and those problems kept Pepper's nights restless. She lay her head down on the top of the couch and closed her eyes, hoping that her mind wouldn't take her back to the scar she'd discovered that afternoon, sure the timer would wake her in time to finish dinner.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Mr. Stark."

"Not now Jarvis."

"Mr. Stark, I've been trying to get your attention for almost an hour."

"Well," Tony had his arms deep inside a car, "there is a reason for that. I didn't want to be bothered."

"So it would seem. But that does not change my mission."

He sighed, "Fine then. What is it?"

"I thought you should know that dinner is ready."

"How long have I been down here?"

"Five hours, sir."

"And how long does it take took cook dinner?"

"That depends on the type of food and…"

He finished wiping off his hands and tossed the rag on a table. "Fine, fine, I'll go on up and check out what's going on." Taking two steps at a time, Tony only slowed his pace when he saw his assistant dozing on the couch. He sat down quietly next to her, and studied her visage deciding that yes, he did indeed like her cheekbones very much.

"Ms. Potts." Nothing. He tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear. "Ms. Potts." A little shake on the arm. "Pepper."

Her eyes fluttered open like an angel, but she rubbed them unceremoniously. "Tony," she said drowsily, "you're here."

He snorted, "Where else would I be?"

"Gone." Tony looked at her confused, but any questions died on his lip after she woke up a little further. "Oh shit, the chicken." Leaping over the coffee table and skidding past the oven on her first try, Pepper put a very burnt and distressed looked bird up on the burners and shut off the heat with a huff.

"Looks delicious."

"Shut up."

"No seriously. It looks totally delicious."

"Well if that's what you think delicious looks like, then you need to pay better attention to what you put in your mouth and chew."

"Jarvis," Tony called in almost a warning tone, "why didn't you turn off the stove?"

"Ms. Potts asked me not to interfere with her cooking. She said it demanded a woman's intuition."

"A woman's intuition?" He crooked a famous eyebrow at her. "If this is your womanly intuition then maybe it's better that you don't have children."

"That's rich coming from a man who couldn't tell me which end of a baby is up."

"So…" he rocked from the insides of his feet back out, "what's for dinner?"

Pepper sat on a bar stool and put her head in her hands. "You figure it out; I'm done for the day."

He checked the clock on the microwave, "Well, in about fifteen minutes it will be tomorrow. Will you feel more up to making something then?" Pepper stared at him so harshly that he quietly moved the knife block away from her. "That's a no."

"Aren't you supposed to some sort of genius? Just open some cupboards and make yourself a sandwich boy wonder. And make me one too."

"Yes boss." He opened a cupboard, then another. From where her head was firmly planted on the cool granite countertop, Pepper could hear him pretty much ransack the kitchen, but little food preparation seemed to be taking place. Suddenly a voice, not unlike that of a whining child, came from the stool next to her own. "We don't have anything to eat."

"Sure we do. Where's my sandwich?"

"Nope, no sandwich. No food. We might starve."

Pepper picked up her head. "Don't be so dramatic." She began to look through the shelves. As much as it grumbled her gut to admit it, Tony was right. They really didn't have much, certainly nothing that could be cobbled together to make a meal. "Well, I supposed you're right."

"Wait, what was that you just said?" Tony cupped an ear in her direction. "I'm right about something. Please, say that again, only slower this time."

"Don't push your luck."

He stuck his hands in his pockets. "So what now?"

"I'll go and get us something to eat."

"But the grocery stores are all closed."

"Not Wal-Mart."

"Huh?"

Pepper sighed and reached for a sweater she'd left on a chair. "I forget sometimes that you haven't had to shop for yourself in…let's see…ever."

"Then I want to come too."

"I don't know what if the shutterbugs out front see us going out together. No need to start rumors."

Tony felt his heart drop a little, "I'll hide in the back seat; cover me with a blanket or something." Now it was her turn to move an eyebrow skyward. "Oh come on. I'm bored being around here all the time. There won't be many people in the store. Please."

"I suppose your right." Pepper regretted her word choice immediately.

"Ha! Right again. I'm on a roll."

"Careful I don't roll you down the rocks out back," Pepper muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Go and get a sweatshirt or something. I'm meet you out front at my car. I'm driving," she held up a hand, "no arguments."

"It's a date," Tony called over his shoulder as he jogged to his room.

"It's not a…" but he was gone. And to be truthful, the words and idea weren't all too silly to Pepper anyway.

XXXXXXXXXX

They got to the store in record time, absent one phone call at a red light.

"Who did you call back there?"

"You weren't listening in. I'm shocked."

"I have some morals, you know." The truth was that when she'd made that phone call a hummer had pulled up next to them, and the sound of his heart and the arch were so defining he wasn't paying attention.

Pepper unclicked her seatbelt. "I just called the manager so he could alert the staff to leave us be. No need for surprises."

"You think of everything."

She grinned and locked the car with the clicker. "That's why you keep me around."

"Among other reasons." The doors parted as they entered the Wal-Mart. "I'm driving the cart." He pulled one out from the column and ran it back and forth. "One of the wheels seems to be defective."

"It's going to be hard to find one that doesn't have a defective wheel."

"That seems silly. So…" he looked around, "how do we do this."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Well," Pepper put her hands on her hips, "since we need so much stuff, why don't we go up and down the food aisles."

"Sounds like a plan." They turned down first row, and Pepper began to grab boxes and put them into the cart. Tony watched her move. "Hey."

"Yeah."

"I think we've finally found something I'm a virgin at."

Pepper dropped a box of crackers. "Um, excuse me."

"Shopping. I'm a grocery shopping virgin."

"Please don't say that so loud."

"It's true."

"You've never been food shopping before?"

"Wow," he was distracted again, "how many flavors of Wheat Thins does the world need?"

"Focus, Mr. Stark."

Tony grabbed a box from the shelf and held them up for her. "Low-fat garlic herb! When did these come to be, and why don't we have them!"

Pepper took the box and nearly spiked it into the cart. "Answer my question," she took a calming breath, "please." He stared at her with a grin on his face, hoping that she'd let it go. But Pepper simply stared at him more intently. "Start talking."

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Tony started to walk down the aisle. "I don't know. My mom and Dad, they were rich, you know. We always had…people, who took care of the things like shopping, cleaning…"

"Must have been nice."

"Easier, I think the word is easier. I mean, don't you have any pleasant familial memories from shopping?"

Pepper smiled a little as they went down the next aisle. "I suppose there is one. Yes. When I was little, like five, six, something like that, I had a tendency to wonder off from my mom. So she had to put me inside the cart at the grocery store since I was too big for the seat."

Tony grabbed some bagels and threw them in. "Like a little prisoner."

She chuckled. "Yeah. And she used to give me animal crackers to keep me quiet. We'd eat them together and make up stories about the animals. It was…special."

Tony studied Pepper then, lost in thought with such a soft posture. He could almost see her as a mother, never mind the comment he made earlier. "Your mother," the words were a bit choked, "she sounds like she is special."

"You're right, she was."

"Was?"

"She died when I was a teenager. Cancer."

"Should I know that? I mean, did you tell me that sometime and…?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't like talking about it. It was not a… pleasant death."

Tony cocked his head to the side and put a hand on hers on the rail of the cart. "I'm sorry."

Pepper turned her hand up so their palms were touching, and she squeezed his hand. "I know you are. What about your parents?"

"I don't…" he stopped, and Pepper gave him a confused look. "I…" Then he turned on his heels and walked away.

"Stop." Pepper followed, the errant wheel on her chart spastically shimmying as she went around to another row after him. "Stop right there." He complied, but didn't turn around.

"I've never been a fan of canned soup, how about you?"

"Your parents."

He touched a can where a mother was serving lunch to her son. "I don't remember them."

"What?"

"Not like most people do. I was nine when they died, and I had spent a lot of time studying, and they were running their business, and I just didn't… there wasn't much togetherness. And I can see them sometimes, in flashes. But I look at the pictures, and sometimes I think is that really them."

"I'm sorry."

He turned his head. "Why?"

She walked up next to him. Without heals she was a good three inches shorter. "For your lack of memory."

"Not all memories are good."

"True but those probably were."

He turned all the way toward her and looked into her eyes and only saw compassion. All that compassion for him. And what had he done to deserve it?

"Pepper?" A man about her age came striding down the aisle, smiling, his Wal-Mart badge glistening. "Pepper, I couldn't have you come in again and not say hi."

"I would have been disappointed if you hadn't. Brad this is Tony Stark."

"Ah yes, the infamous Tony Stark. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." They shook hands, and Tony noticed with slight disgust that his fingernails were a bit dirty.

"Brad is the night manager here, and we were friends in high school too."

"What a happy coincidence." Tony meant the words to sound even, but they came out harsh, and he unconsciously angled his body between the two old friends.

Brad eyed him carefully. He'd heard the guy was eccentric, but still. "Look Pepper, I'd love to chat. Can I offer you a cup of coffee in the employee longue like before while Mr. Stark looks around."

"That would be fine. I'll meet you there in a minute."

"Sounds good. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Stark," Brad said with vigor and strode off.

When he was out of ear shot, Tony whipped toward his assistant. "What was that all about?"

Pepper didn't look up from comparing pickles. "What?"

"Brad."

"Yes."

"You're having coffee," he gestured, "with him."

She finally picked one and plunked it into the cart. "Yes, and then I thought we might have sex on the table under the punch clock."

"Ummm…"

"Oh please, if you can be overdramatic then so can I."

They rounded into the baking section. "It sounds like this isn't the first time you've had coffee with Brad."

"Aren't we observant?"

"But he's…"

"He's an old friend."

"Did you date him?"

"How is that any of your business?"

"Is he the one you called from the car?"

Pepper put her hands on his hips. "Yes. And you should be thanking him right now since no employee has come up to you like a slobbering fool and asked for an autograph Ironman." Now she started to point, a sure sign she was angry. "Look, when you were missing, and I couldn't sleep I used to come here and walk around late at night. And Brad saw me and we talked. I needed someone to talk to."

"Why?"

"Because Rhodes was looking for you, and Jarvis isn't great in that sort of situation. I was alone Tony. And I was scared. Wouldn't you have been?"

Finally she asked the question. It had been itching her mind since the moment he got off the plane. She'd meant to ask it a million times, but was scared of the reaction. But here, next to innumerable images of the Pillsbury Doughboy, eyes brimming with tears, it came out.

Tony looked at her. Please don't cry. Please don't cry. He repeated in his mind over and over, though it was hard to tell if that was for her or him. Again here was a choice. And again he took the easy path out. "But really, his name is Brad." Pepper's mouth opening into an O shape, and a single tear ran down her face. Oh crap, he'd gone too far. He took a step forward, hand out stretched. "Pepper, I…"

She brushed away her tear. "Maybe it's time you went to look around the store some, Mr. Stark."

"Pepper…"

She turned to cart away with little emotion. "I'll come and find you later."

XXXXXXXXXX

He filled the cart with things, acting almost like a six armed man going down the aisles. Tony Stark was not stupid, but he realized very quickly that his long removal from everyday American life made him oblivious to the overwhelmingly crazy consumerism that ran the country. There weren't just two kinds of a product, but six, or eight, or more. He realized that if stuff was what people craved, then it was no wonder that general populous was, in his opinion, 'devastatingly nuts.' Yet anything the least bit interesting was added to the pile.

Unexpectedly, it was at the toy section where he paused at the longest, trying anything that wasn't tied down or wrapped in impenetrable plastic. He even picked up a stuffed toy for Pepper as a surprise/apology for later, skillfully hiding it under other items.

Tony was scanning the Nerf section when he saw the movement of the corner of his eye. At first he ignored it. But then there was a gunshot, a clean gunshot and yelling. He liked to think he handled it well, all things considered, but Tony still jumped and turned, eyes darting this way and that, breathing heavy.

But there was no living soul around.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Brad was still a bit of a blowhard, Pepper realized. He's been that way in high school. One of those only slightly less prickish jocks who could woo a model UN nerd like her. And here, how many years later, more than about thirty minutes of conversation was still a chore. But he was kind, and a semi-proficient listener who mainly listed his own issues. Pepper liked listening to other people's problems. It was a trait she thought was both noble and slightly self indulgent. 'See Pepper,' she could tell herself, 'you're not nearly as messed up, now are you?'

He'd tried to hug her as they left the break room, but she sidestepped a bit and gave a nervous laugh.

Pepper took her time looking for him, not bothering to check the personal care and jewelry sections. Her feet slapped on the tile, and the music being pumped over the store put her into a sort of haze, as if she could walk these rows in peace for hours, and it would be alright.

She saw his back first, ridged and fixed toward a TV screen. There was no indication that he knew she was there, even when she was standing next to him. The screen showed a preview for a video game about war. Men streaked, screamed, and shot on the screen as things blew up around them. Tony watched, eyes like saucers, to the action, his right hand scratching the scar on his side unconsciously. "Are you…"

He cut her off in a quiet voice, "they didn't get it right."

"What?"

"It's much…louder. And brighter."

"Let's not watch this."

"Do people believe this is what it's like?"

"I don't know. Let's go."

"It's much louder."

"Tony," he didn't stir at the use of his name, so Pepper took a hand and gently put it onto his face to turn it toward her own, lingering to rub his cheek with her thumb. "Let's go home."

His eyes were incredibly glassy looking into hers. "OK. Home."

XXXXXXXXXX

They ate Cheese-its on the ride back, drinking sodas from the coolers near the checkout. Pepper still drove, stifling a yawn at the red lights. Tony made sure that the cracker box was just skewed enough that sometimes when he reached for food he brushed her leg 'on accident.'

Neither was in the mood for talking.

It took two trips to get their haul inside, and after unpacking the bags and seeing that the clock read 3:30 Pepper decided to forgo more food and hit the sack. "You should get some sleep too," she advised.

"Wait Ms. Potts. I have something for you."

She turned around, a hand rubbing her neck, "Can't it wait until later?"

Tony had his back to her, rummaging in a final bag. "You might want to cuddle up with this tonight."

'If he turns around with a bow on his chest,' she thought, 'I will beat him with my shoe.'

But upon turning he simply had a large stuffed horse in his hands. "I got you a pony."

Pepper laughed out loud. "A pony?"

"Yeah," he smiled, walking closer so she could take the toy, "isn't that what every little girl asks for."

"Do I look like a little girl?"

"Certainly not. But it doesn't mean you can't have a pony. I'm a rich man; I should be able to give my employees equestrian themed gifts."

"You are…"

"The tag says his name is Buttons." He gave the toy a shake to make it seem more animated. "I think he likes you."

Pepper reached out a hand and took the stuffed animal into her arms. "He is very soft. You have excellent taste. Thank you, Mr. Stark." She said his name in the warm tone that he enjoyed so much.

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

She wanted to say that a pony wasn't going to make their issues go away, but another yawn stifled her efforts. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." When Pepper had left the room, Tony began to set things up. "Jarvis?"

"Yes sir."

He poured himself a drink. "I want you to route the sound of this into my headphones so I do not bother Ms. Potts."

"Of course. But shouldn't you also be going to bed?"

"Not now Jarvis." The TV lit up with a start menu and Tony settled into a chair. "I'm going to play this game."

"For how long sir?"

Tony's face became a little too blank. "Until I win." He snapped on the head phones. "Don't tell Ms. Potts."

So, what do you think? I'll try to update soon, but realistically it might not be until the weekend.