Ok, I lied, apparently. This story seriously just gets away from me. Pepper and Tony are just too fun to write. So there is no dining room table in this chapter either, but I swear, I'm getting to it! Next chapter for sure! (if all goes according to plan, which it will, because I hold a PhD in horribleness (Oops, wrong fandom))

Hope you enjoy :)

Virginia arrived at Tony Stark's office at five to twelve the next day in her a usual power suit and high heels. Mr. Stark wasn't there yet, so she didn't have to deal with the bodyguards this time. She was nervous. She'd spent all night worrying. She hoped that Mr. Stark had alerted her old supervisor of her promotion, so it didn't seem like she had just ditched work today. She tried to tell herself that of course he would have notified her supervisor; he can't be that irresponsible. But more than just that, she worried that this whole thing hadn't been serious. Busting into an office, being looked over, stared at, and prodded, then being offered a job was just not something that happened.

Virginia took a deep breath to calm herself. Regardless of worry, she would wait for her new boss. At twelve o' five, she began to worry again. By twelve thirty, she was forming an ulcer. Finally, at twelve forty-seven, Virginia heard footsteps outside the office, and Tony Stark dramatically threw open the double doors.

There he stood, in a button down shirt that was unbuttoned most of the way. The wife beater he wore under it looked like it had been stained with grease, freshly in some places, and washed and faded in others. His dark pants were loose and wrinkled, and his hair stuck out in every direction. If nothing else, this Tony Stark more resembled the one she saw on TV than the well-suited one she'd met yesterday.

"Hey, am I late?" he asked casually. His entrance and his tone would have been enough to shock Virginia into a stunned silence (again), but she had been preparing for Tony Stark since their encounter yesterday.

It still took her a second to pull herself together enough to say, "Only forty-seven minutes late, Mr. Stark." She'd responded equally as casual, though she guessed Tony Stark had picked up on her pause. He was still wearing that amused, and a little smug, smile from yesterday.

"Tony," he corrected her. "Forty-seven, really? That's nice. Usually people are yelling that it's been at least an hour or something." He waved one hand around as if the nerve of those people annoyed him. "And you're feisty. Witty. I like it. It goes well with your hair."

No amount of telling herself, 'I will not let Tony Stark get to me,' in the mirror last night could have prepared her for that line. She struggled to even understand what it meant.

"Hmm... Maybe not," he corrected, putting one hand on his chin in thought. "You're not so much a bright, fiery redhead as a strawberry blonde," he mused. He stared intensely at her as he continued to think for a few moments. "Do you like strawberries?" he asked suddenly.

Virginia wondered if she would ever get used to Tony Stark's confusing lines of thought. "What? Oh. No, I'm allergic, actually."

He frowned a little. "Well that ruins that idea."

Virginia decided that this was a good time to change the subject. "Did you bring the papers?"

He stared at her, openly confused, utterly bewildered. It was if he'd never heard the language she'd just spoken.

"My contract," she clarified.

His eyes widened in understanding and he snapped his finger. "Right, yes, that's why we're here."

Could he honestly have forgotten that?

"Well, you see, I was going to get my personal assistant to do that," he explained.

"I thought I was your personal assistant."

"Exactly, so go get that sorted out and I'll sign where I need to and we'll be all good." He said this as if it were the most simple, obvious thing in the world. "What did I promise you, triple your pay?"

"Double," she responded automatically. For a second, she wished she had kept her mouth shut, but she reminded herself that lying to her new boss was not a good way to start a job.

He seemed amused by her response. "Honesty. Good. Not something I shoot for all the time, but it's nice you do. Make it times two and a half, though. I like you, Pepperspray."

Virginia sighed. "Are you going to continue calling me Pepperspray?" she asked.

"Probably. What was your name again?"

"Virginia Potts."

He seemed to consider this deeply for a moment. "Yup. I will very likely continue to call you Pepperspray."

"I didn't even actually have pepper spray on me yesterday. I was just saying that so your bodyguards would let me through," she admitted.

"And the plot thickens," Tony Stark teased with a wide grin. "Well that solidifies it then. Pepperspray, for sure."

Virginia sighed. She was already exhausted from this conversation. It was time for business. "Shall I go get that contract written up, Mr. Stark?"

"Well I guess if I'm not calling you your name, you don't have to call me mine. I would appreciate it if you came up with something more creative than 'Mr. Stark,' though."

She didn't respond, she just stared at him (the other way around, for once!) seriously.

He ginned at her. "Ooh. Glares. Those fit with your hair wonderfully. Do you have another one-liner to go with that piercing stare or what?"

He continued to look at her expectantly. She waited.

Finally, he rolled his eyes. "Yes yes, get the contract," he acquiesced. "Have it say the same thing as my last assistant's, and remember two and a half."

Remembering her earlier worry, she asked, "Should I inform my old supervisor I won't be going back to his office?"

"Unless you plan on working two jobs at the same time."

"When should I bring it up for you to sign?" she asked, wondering how long it would take for the legal department to rush the contract. She imagined it couldn't take too long, who knows how many times they'd had to write up a new PA contract for Tony Stark already.

"Up, no. Over. I have a place in Malibu. Bring it with you when you come in for work tomorrow."

"Alright. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"Are you always this formal?" he teased.

She flashed him her best 'professionally polite' smile.

He smiled back. "That will be all, Miss Potts," his voice was a mocking impression of her business tone, but his smile was genuine.

As she strode out of his office, her heels clicking against the floor satisfyingly, she found a strange thought in her head among the almost smug triumph of getting some business out of Tony Stark: He's sort of handsome when he smiles.

See you for Chapter Three. Hopefully before the weekend ends.