A/N: This is probably a very, very bad idea, and I'll most likely kick myself in the shins later, but I'm going to upload this chapter without prior editing, or, well, to be honest, freshly written. As in, I just finished a few minutes ago. I don't think I have a choice, seeing as how I have no time to spare, and I'll forget if I don't do it now. Yeah, this is a bad idea. But I'm going to do it anyway; I'll kick myself later.

Alrighty then, here goes the ballgame! (I've always wanted to say that.)

Pepper drummed her fingers atop the table while colorful lights serenaded the dance floor, of which she wasn't a part of - at the moment. A sight escaped her lips as she observed the various couples dancing: some she did know, some she didn't know, and some she didn't really care to know. Nonetheless, seeing Rhodey with Whitney, and remembering the awkward scene that took place between them earlier forced her to stifle a laugh.

She shook her head, and straightened out in her chair, just as the dance ended, the music stopped, and the participators began clapping for the band. Pepper let her shoulders relax, and smiled at her two friends, who smiled back. But Rhodey's smile was just a little bit wider.

Rhodey pulled on the edge of his white collar, moving his fingers to play with the ebony bow-tie around his neck. Perspiration glistened across his forehead, and she suppressed a grin. However little fun she had previously experienced, this made up for it by far. He held on to Whitney's hand longer than was necessary, and judging by the occasional glances to her side, the girl in question noticed. "Hey, Pepper, why aren't you dancing or something? You look kinda bored," he articulated, still clutching Whitney's hand.

Pepper tapped a short fingernail on the table, "Dunno. I think I like sitting here, that means I get to watch other people dance. And that's way more fun than doing it yourself," she took a sip of the provided punch.

"Are you being sarcastic?" Whitney tilted her head, the butterfly clip in her hair glittering under new-found light.

She sighed. "Yes. I'm just so bored! There's nothing to do here except sit and watch and hope. Nobody likes me," Pepper placed her chin in her hands.

"Come on," Rhodey released Whitney's hand, "I'll dance with you."

Pepper put on a smile, "Aw, thanks, Rhodey, but you're like my brother! It'd be so weird. Besides," she lowered her gaze to the glass of punch in front of her, "You've got other people to dance with."

Rhodey cleared his throat, and stole a glance at Whitney, who was biting her lip, obviously hiding her amusement. Pepper winked at her friend, and nodded to the dance floor, just as a slower melody started to play.

"Well," Whitney placed her hands on her hips, "You're my date, aren't you?"

Rhodey tugged at his collar. "Uh, uh, yes?" he stammered somewhat breathlessly.

She held out her hand, palm upward, with a brightened expression, and he took it, leading her back onto the floor.

Pepper shook her head, a soft smile etching its way onto her freckled features. At least her friend, slash, brother could be happy on this night. She ran her finger over the rim of her glass, oblivious to the person looming over her, until he tapped on her shoulder. She jumped, and shifted herself around in the seat to see a friend. One, in fact, that she'd been hoping for.

"Tony!" her face brightened, "Oh my gosh, I thought you weren't coming! You don't look so happy though."

Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Yeah, well, Roberta made me come," he shrugged. "She was having a girl's night, or something. Besides, any time I've gotta dress up, is a time I really don't enjoy. Really. Don't. Enjoy."

"Aw, but I'm glad you're here." Pepper took another sip from her glass. "I am so bored! Can you talk with me?"

"As if I was gonna sit and talk with anybody else," he pulled up a chair, and sat down. "I have no idea who these people are."

She glanced among the swath of people, "Me neither. But, they're pretty nice though."

"Sure. And a porcupine is fun to play with," Tony crossed his arms, and swung his leg over the other. Pepper sighed. He was trapped in one of his dissenting moods.

"You haven't even talked with them yet!" she threw up her hands in protest. "I think you're just being a grouchy-grover." Pepper turned away from him, and sipped at her punch. The ice cubes had begun to melt, leaving the sugary drink almost tasteless. It made no difference to her either way; sugar wasn't a substance she needed circulating around her system, according to her father.

Tony chuckled. "Okay, okay," a smile implanted itself onto his lips, and he turned to her. "Hey," he nodded towards the floor, "You wanna try dancing?"

Her eyes lit up, "That sounds like fun!" Elation and excitement mixed within her mind, and she couldn't wait any longer. Pepper raced over to the opposite side of the table, and grasped Tony's hands, pulling him up from his seat.

"Whoa, Pepper, slow down!" Tony laughed, but allowed her to drag him into the sea of people.

She settled down soon, of course. After finding a spot for them to dance in. Once she had, Tony shook his head, but she knew better - he was having fun, she could tell by the glitter in his eyes. Pepper inherited the gift of near-constant joy, which she passed on to whomever she wished, with the snap of a finger. Sometimes, she came off as annoying, but like tonight, sometimes they understood.

"You can't slow down when you're at dances, Tony, it's just not done!" she shrugged up her shoulders; a brightness shining upon her face.

"Alright, alright!" A laughing tone still plagued Tony's voice as he clutched her hands in his.

Pepper felt a thin glaze of moisture over Tony's palms - she struggled to hide her amusement. He was nervous, the sweet little dear.

"Okay." She straightened up, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Now you put your hand on my waist, and I'll keep this hand here."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It's that simple?"

Pepper rolled her eyes; not in contempt, but to be playful. "Okay, now you're just stalling."

"Fine," he scoffed, and began to step side-to-side, forming a circle. "How's this?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "See, you've got it. Isn't this loads more fun than staying at home, or you know, whatever?"

"I guess so. I'm not much for, people." Tony looked around, and rolled his shoulders forward.

"I'm people," Pepper lifted her eyebrows.

"No, you're nice people, and you're a one people-I mean, person," he corrected himself. "There's a big difference."

"Oh, hush it and have fun for once!" she chided her best friend, drawing out another chuckle from him as they danced in a slow motion.

A thickness formed in her throat upon realizing the tempo of the song. It was much too slow for a friendly dance, and that was all they were engaging in - a friendly dance. At least, she assumed it was, since that was all they were. Just plain old friendly. However, now that she'd thought about the situation, perhaps it was better this way. After all, she enjoyed his company; it was time to stop acting like a schoolgirl around him. They were friends, best friends, and what was a slow dance between friends?

Awkward.

There was only one solution: conversation. It worked every time. "So, not as complicated as you thought, huh?" she said in a whimsical tone.

"It's kind of fun, actually." Tony smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

She changed her mind; despite the awkward factor, Pepper rather enjoyed the attention Tony was bestowing upon her. It made her feel like a girl, for some strange reason. A person she admired and laughed beside was paying her mind, in such a way that made her heart flutter. She quickly decided it was a wonderful, amazing feeling that she wished would last. But, sadly, she knew it couldn't. The only thing she was able to do was savor each moment; imprint them into her memory to look back on and smile. Eventually, she knew, he would forget everything that happened on this night. At least she would remember.

To her misfortune, Tony noticed her discomposure, and stopped all movements. "Hey, what's wrong?" he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Nothing," she inhaled, "I'm fine, perfectly fine. There's absolutely nothing wrong with me."

"Come on," he nodded to an empty table set, and lead her towards it, keeping her upright with a gentle touch on her back and shoulder.

"Look at me," Pepper let out an airy chuckle, "I was supposed to cheer you up and now I'm making you upset." She sniffed again, "I'm sorry, Tony."

"Hey," Tony poked her arm, "what are you sorry for? I had a great time!" Pepper latched onto his use of past tense, and gave him a look of which made his features appear to show embarrassment. "Uh, I'm having a great time, then? Sorry, wrong word choice," he rubbed the back of his neck. "But I mean it, though. You really did cheer me up. So let's see a smile, huh?"

Pepper released another half-chuckle, and an unwitting smile forced its way across her lips.

"That's my girl," he gave a squeeze to her shoulder.

She tucked back a few strands of her cropped hair. "If it's okay with you, I think it's time for me to go home." Pepper stood up, and Tony rose with her.

"Can I walk you home?" he said, holding out his hand for her.

There was a glow emanating from her cheeks at his generosity - perhaps she was enjoying his attention far too much. "I'll call my dad, he'll drive me home. I'll be fine."

"Where's the fun in that?" Tony threw up his hands.

Pepper dropped her shoulders, placed her hands on her hips, and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. "You really aren't gonna give this up until I say yes?"

Tony looked at the ceiling, then back at her. "Yes," he said, prolonging the first consonant.

With a pursing of her lips, she glanced upward as well. "Well, then, I guess you just have to walk me home, 'cause then you'd be stalking me, and I think they have a law against that."

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said in a joking manner, and took a glance behind him. Which was rather odd, considering the only thing to his back was the dance floor.

"You don't think Rhodey wants to walk home with us?" she asked, walking over to the coat rack.

"Not a chance," he replied, still facing the floor.

Pepper shrugged, and plucked off her beige coat from the hanging rack. "He's got his own car anyway. You know, you should get a car, learn how to drive and stuff," she waited for him in the doorway while slipping it on.

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets, "It's New York, what's the use?"

She hummed, "True, but still, it's the principle of the thing, you know?"

He rolled his eyes, but it wasn't meant to come off as condescending, merely good-natured. "Yeah, yeah, sure, still not doing it though." Tony met up with her in the doorway, and they started off down the hall.

The rest of the walk was filled with joyous conversation, or more of the usual fun between them. Childhood memories, old hideouts, and at one point even conversed about the puddles pooling on the sidewalk. However boring it seemed, the two were never short of a good laugh, or a good time for that matter. If she had anything to be thankful for, it was the blessing of making other people happy. Far too soon, though, their walk was over. They had to say good night. All good times must end at some point; Pepper knew and understood that. If good times never ended, what could a person look forward to? There would be a next time, a night filled with endless laughter, and that was what she planned on.

She skipped up the steps of her family brownstone, and stopped at her patio. Taking a look back, she observed Tony waiting at the bottom. "Not even a hug, for your bestest red-haired friend in the whole wide world? You've only got one," she said in a musical tone.

Tony dropped his shoulders. "Guilt trip?"

"Totally."

He exhaled sharply. "Alright, alright, you get a hug." He bolted up the steps onto the small landing she called her "patio," and gave her a prompt embrace. "There, that better?"

"Yep," she grinned.

He lowered his head, and shook it. "You're such a ginger."

Pepper placed her hands on her hips, and let her jaw slacken into a gape. "Oh, you so did not just say that."

"Well, you are."

She pressed her lips together, narrowed her eyes, and took off her coat, wringing it around like a wet washcloth.

Tony gulped, "Wh-what are you gonna do?"

Pepper held the wrung coat in her hands, and kept a straight face. "Nobody ever, ever, ever says anything bad about gingers. Ever."

And with that, she began to whack him on the shoulder with her coat. Not too hard, but just enough to contain a playful air. She chased him down the steps, up and down the sidewalk, and back up onto her patio again, all amidst Tony's exclamations of which showed no sign of animosity.

"Take it back?" Pepper sucked in fresh air, replenishing her worn-out lungs, while holding the coat high.

"Okay, geez, no more ginger jokes," Tony gulped in air of his own. "I'm going to take that coat away from you."

She turned away from him, and jutted her bottom lip in a pout. "No!" Pepper stroked the coat as if it was a cat, "it's too soft!"

"You're too dangerous with that thing, give it here!" Tony lunged for the jacket, but she kept it away from him; they ended up traipsing across the sidewalk once again, happy to be laughing and playing, or at least she was.

Nevertheless, out of the blue, a familiar creak filled her ears. Ceasing all movements, she turned around slowly, afraid to see what she knew was standing at the doorstep: her father. Despite the rare moments when he embarrassed her beyond explanation or rebuttal, her dad was a nice, kind man, although, Pepper understood she was at an age where fathers tended to gravitate towards more protective actions. Meaning, depending on how she acted, the situation (if she could call it that) had an opportunity to go either way.

"Hi...Daddy!" She inwardly cringed at her response; it had to be the lamest throughout history. If lamest was, in fact, an accepted word.

"Pepper!" her father, Virgil, exclaimed. "I was just about to come and get you. And, who's this?" Virgil pointed to Tony. Though, her father didn't seem surprised, or even unhappy at his presence. This was, indeed, quite a bad sign.

"Um, Dad, this is Tony. You've met him before," she emphasized the last phrase.

"Oh, yes, Tony, I remember." Virgil walked down the steps to stand in front of the two, and offered his hand to shake. Pepper crossed her fingers, and hoped Tony did the right thing by her father - he was firm about these things, even when they were nothing. "Nice to see you again."

"You, too." She almost sighed in relief as her best friend did do the right thing; he shook his hand.

"Anyway, I'm really tired, so can I say goodnight? Goodnight," Pepper nodded to Tony, and again hoped he got the message.

He focused on her features for a second before he got it. "Oh, yeah, right! Uh, 'night, Pep. Goodnight A-I mean, Mr. Potts." Tony glanced at her for a brief, knowing second before scooting off to his own house, where he belonged at the moment.

"Dad," she started, "he's my best friend, promise, just a friend. Cross my heart and hope to be struck be lightening." Pepper made an "X" motion across her heart.

"I know," Virgil said with a sigh. Then, he placed a compassionate hand on her shoulder, a sure sign of wrong amiss. "You're getting at that age, Patricia-" her shoulders drooped, "right, Pepper. And, I'll be very blunt, okay?" He guided her back to the apartment, "It scares me sometimes, with just me raising you."

"You can't be scared, you're the best dad in the world. Plus, you're a FBI agent, they don't get scared!"

"Let's not shout it to the world, alright?" Virgil trained his eyes on her, a signal to calm it down. Immediately.

"Sorry!" she whisper-shouted, and placed a finger on her lips.

"That's better now."

Her father opened the door to their home; the lights, still on, illuminating some of the small but efficiently decorated spaces. It wasn't much to anyone else, but it was to her. The apartment had everything she and her father needed, and that was all that counted in her mind. It sported a living room, a kitchen with a dining area blended in, a few random rooms she never paid much mind to except when it cane time for cleaning, and an upstairs in which their bed and baths were located. Her mother did the decorating, and that was the only thing that offset her. Everywhere she turned were memories of the was, is, and might have been - if her parents stayed together. Sure, equal visitation rights allowed her to stay at her mom's place for the weekends, but sometimes it wasn't enough. A gap burrowed its nasty way into her heart the night they separated, but, she always held on to hope. Her parents would come back together, and everything could return to normal. There was always a small sliver of hope hidden away in Pepper's mind, just rip for the picking. But she needed to return to the real world at the moment.

"Now, run upstairs and get ready for bed," he checked his watch, "it's past your bedtime already."

"Dad," Pepper huffed, still suffering from her inner-mind journey, of sorts. "I'm not five."

Upon hearing her earlier statement, Virgil once again trained his disciplinary gaze on her, which made the teenager press her lips together.

Pepper hung her coat up on the rack by the door. "I'm not hungry, or anything, so I'll head straight to bed. Is that okay?"

"Sure," her father scratched his head while she traipsed up the staircase, "and...Pepper?"

Sh halted, "Yeah, Dad?"

"You have a good time?" his cobblestone eyes displayed a fatherly pride.

"Yeah," she glanced at the stair beneath her feet, "I had a great time."

As the conversation slipped away, and the sights and sounds did the same, Pepper lifted the needle from the finished record. How naïve she was, how innocent. Maybe she still had things to learn from her younger self, but it was an unchangeable fact that those years were long gone. However, though the real occurrences may have disappeared, it never stopped her from reminiscing. That didn't hurt anyone, except herself on occasion. This was, perhaps, one of those times.

She blinked back whatever was in her eyes, and re-placed the record back within its safe haven - their journal. It was a pretty little thing; lace surrounding it edges, shrouded in a pure white, even after all those years. The best times of their lives together were recorded, in a diligent fashion, inside that book. And she wasn't the least bit curious what the next one contained.

Setting the journal down beside the player, Pepper allowed her fingers one last stroke of the silver heart established in the middle. But that was her undoing. While she permitted herself to touch it, her hyperactive mind whirred faster than anyone dared to calculate. The journal was too tempting a love-encased mystery for her to miss out on, lest of all her own. So, at her own peril, she picked up the book tenderly, and opened its pages to the first entry. One of which made her grin wider than a hyena.

Her Tony promised her something while that record played; something she held him to for years, until a bigger promise was made. The vinyl disc begged for its day on that player, and therefore, she gave it the chance to sing, all for her. She couldn't wait another second! Pepper knew her train was departing soon, but the object called and beckoned, even screamed for her to listen to its logical reason. Giving in to the record, Pepper finally let it free atop the player, and set the needle at the beginning. It was rather fast-paced, but she remembered it that way. Closing her eyes, Pepper allowed herself one more freedom: to be swept away by another wonderful, yet excruciating, memory from a beautiful past.