…..\\--+--/…..

Aftermath

…..\\--+--/…..

"Did you like that?"

The image of Tony Stark spoke through the LCD, loudly teasing the crowd after his ridiculous claim. He waited, trying for a few calls of quiet that went unheeded for several minutes after.

"I almost forgot how much fun stirring up the presses was. It's been so long," he started with a quirk of a grin. "You all eat gossip up like candy before listening to the rest of the juicy details. As I was about to say, I might as well be the Iron Man, as you all call him, as he is, in fact, my creation."

The press quieted for an explanation. " Since the incident in Afghanistan, as I'm sure you all remember well, I thought it necessary to take some precautions that are a little more creative, if not discrete. For the sake of my security I have been developing several prototypes for a suit that would grant the user a little more 'oomph' if you would."

"And you call this disaster in our streets creative, Mr. Stark?" The familiar face spoke with daring that demanded his full attention. She had quickly become an annoyance. "I'm sure the citizens that were put in danger would consider it a little more personal."

"It was unfortunate, what happened the other night, but as it has already been made clear that had absolutely nothing to do with the Iron Man."

"There are witnesses…"

"A few 'he-said, she-said' moments. Hardly anything of significant proof for someone of your caliber, Ms. Everhart. Getting back to the suit, it is only a prototype and the degree of difficulty in building a full set of armor is a lot more trying than playing with a stack of Lincoln Logs.

"Like the automobile or the Space Shuttle, I am predicting it will be some time before I am fully pleased with the results of what I hope will redefine my ideals for a bodyguard." Stark paused in his thoughts. " Really, it could continue for years, decades even, and I might never be finished fiddling with the design."

Tony shook his head and snapped back to the point, " As for the identity of the man wearing the suit, I do not feel it is appropriate, nor necessary to release that information." He tried to break the moment with an amused chuckle. "After all, what sort of heroic presence could this image have if the secret identity were given away?" Stark leaned back in his stance upon the stage. "It would certainly take away from all my fun."

This earned a few further hints of laughter. Except from one.

"Is that all this is to you, Mr. Stark?" Christine Everhart pushed again. "Another weapon treated like a toy?"

"Are you watching that again?" Pepper Potts' voice drew Tony away from the television. In her arms was a mild pile of papers, for him to sign no doubt.

"Do I talk too much?" he questioned, leaning back into the leather couch.

"What?"

She wore blue. The skirt dark skirt flaring delicately as the lighter shade hung loosely on her arms, chest fitted. He looked back up to her face.

"I always feel as though I talk too much when I get behind the podium."

"You say what you need to say," she answered a little too truthfully. Pepper handed the first clip of papers to him and Tony looked down at them, frowning.

"In other words too much."

"…would much rather devote my time to returning to the research associated with discovering new power sources, Ms. Everhart. Something that could benefit the community rather than perfecting this 'new toy,' as you so kindly put it. And…"

Pepper switched off the recording and he looked back up with disappointment usually directed to a mother.

"I was watching that!"

She ignored him easily, setting the rest of the pile on the long coffee table that decorated the room. A shallow glass bowl rested in the center, filled with dark, polished stones. At the edge closest her employer was an empty glass, but she could still catch a hint of the harsh liqueur.

"You've been drinking."

"It's only a scotch," he replied with a sense of dismissal. Tony leaned forward, looking over the papers with boredom that he never could seem to outgrow. "What is this?"

"The top form is the approval for your grant at MIT," Pepper answered expectantly. "Then we have two lawsuit acknowledgements…"

"Only two?" He shifted the papers for a better look.

"One discharge, two hires, the annual earnings statement from that café you purchased last month on the bank of Eure, and a wedding card for your second cousin, John McIntyre for the end of the month. The one in Madison?" she added, hoping it would trigger something familiar. There was no recognition in his eyes, however.

"Just like things are back to normal…" he commented under his breath.

Her eyes never wavered, watching closely as he took a pen from his shirt pocket. There was a noticeable flinch. "How is your shoulder?"

He never paused, "Painfully reminding me to have another drink."

Tony scanned the first batch but she knew he wasn't really paying attention. One reason she always took care never to put one in front of him that hadn't been read through thoroughly. Although she hadn't been responsible for some of the mess Obadiah Stane had created under the Stark name, the guilt was fresh on her conscience.

He signed the papers, eyes distant.

"Are you all right?"

"As rain," he replied quickly, looking up with a smile. It was forced, and there were some days she wished he would put aside the façade like she had seen so briefly.

"On that note, how is rain right? I find the sunshine much more pleasant."

He had met her eyes. Giving in to that agreeable tingle in her chest she held the gaze.

"Yes, well," Pepper smiled, more self-conscious in that moment than she would have liked. "Can't enjoy the sun without a little bit of rain from time to time."

Errands, she reminded herself, looking down at her folded fingers. There was nothing more to stay for. She would have turned away if he hadn't spoken at that second.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"The Margaret Philips Charity Dinner is tomorrow night," Pepper stated with disbelief. He couldn't have forgotten. "I've been reminding you all week."

"You have?" he questioned innocently.

"Yes."

"Are you going?"

She always went, but it was strange for him to start noticing now. Always going to those elaborate parties, keeping track of the guests. Knowing who was who, and what was going on in the field. If she didn't, Tony never would.

"I am going," Pepper answered, pulling her planner close as though it were a security blanket. "As a matter of fact."

"Do you have a date?"

It was like being in high school again, and she disliked it more with every second.

"Some of us have never needed a date, Mr. Stark." It was all business. That's all it ever was.

"So you don't."

She remembered her mother, warning her about men like Stark when she first started to get into the business. Keep the relationship professional, or those big shots will never take you seriously. She repeated the mantra often.

"It's never concerned you before," Pepper responded with a firm posture and tight lips as she struggled to keep control. "Who I did or did not go to any of the functions with."

Tony Stark stood with ease, papers in his hand tossed with the others.

"You'll notice I seem to be taking notice of a lot more things that I frankly had my head too far up my ass to see in the first place."

"Regardless of where your head has been at, I don't think you should be concerned about me so much. It makes this all very awkward and…" He looked back at her and she could feel herself freeze. "…confusing."

"I don't see why it should."

Then she knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to her and enjoying every moment of it. To her it felt a little like being crushed into the pavement.

"You never did," she said quietly, looking down as her fingers played with the edge of the leather planner. There was an intake of breath as she collected her thoughts. Looking back up at him, she smiled forcefully. "But since you insist on knowing, I will be going to the Margaret Philips Charity Dinner, alone."

A statement that should have given a normal man enough information to take the hint, only served to interest him more.

"Oh. Well, what a coincidence," he smiled widely with the slightest tilt of the head. "Because I happen to be going alone as well."

She had almost forgotten that he was not a man to give up on a chase easily. That's all it was.

"Yes, isn't it."

"So," his eyes sparkled with delight and Pepper couldn't help but notice the remnants of the scrape on his nose. "I will see you there? Tomorrow?"

"I suppose you will."

"Perfect, Ms. Potts."

Tony reached out a hand and at first she wasn't certain what he wanted. He didn't leave time to wonder for long, taking her free hand and bringing it to his lips. The moment was short, and she had no words except for the wide eyes that gave away her emotion.

"I would enjoy having a nice dinner alone with you," he added, releasing her.

Pepper took it for the compliment it was and offered a smile of thanks before turning and walking out the door. The skin on her hand still shivered from his lips.

…..\\--+--/…..