Someone pointed out to me in a review for last chapter that shrimp goes with cocktail sauce, not marinara (Thanks, monica). This was actually supposed to be a mistake. Tony should have ordered cocktail sauce, and Pepper was just too polite to correct him. The waitress figured he meant cocktail and brought it anyway, so all conflicts were avoided.

AN: Nope, still don't own it. Nor do I own Campbell's. Or Jackson Pollack. (I wish I owned a Jackson Pollack)

"Pepper, where's my room?"

The redheaded assistant looked up from the Jackson Pollack painting hanging on the wall. "Your room? It should be down the hall. Why?"

Tony jabbed a finger behind him. "There is no hall."

Pepper did a double take. "No- what on Earth…?" she strode over to where her boss was standing. There was indeed no hall.

"But-but it said two-bedroom… I'm SURE it said two-bedroom… Rhodes assured me of that when he rented it… where is it… I'm sure it's here somewhere…" Pepper glanced around frantically. "Oh no…"

"Pepper," Tony said. "Calm down."

"No! There's only one bedroom… this is bad… what'll I do…"

A hand landed on her shoulder and she yelped. Tony shook her gently.

"Pepper! Chill out! I can sleep in the living room, it's fine." He rolled his eyes. "I know how much your privacy means to you."

"Why did you just roll your eyes?"

"What?" I did no such thing!" Tony stated indignantly.

"You did, Tony."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

Tony grinned. "Good to know you see things my way, Pepper. I'll see you in a few minutes, I'm sure you want to unpack your things." He pushed her into her room and closed the door behind her.

Pepper blinked. "What… just… happened?"

-

Tony, outside the door, ran a hand through his shock of thick black hair. Damn, Pepper always got worked up about the tiniest things. Like that time she caught him with the Hungarian supermodel. Or that time he got drunk and tried to jump off the roof. Or that time he asked her to yank the giant glow-ball keeping him alive out of his chest…

Okay, that last one was a tiny bit odd. But he knew some PAs had to deal with stuff MUCH more insane than that.

He walked into the kitchen (which, coincidentally, was the room with the glass floor that he saw earlier) and poured himself a drink from the minibar.

He took a sip and shook his head, grinning slightly. Pepper was so cute when she was nervous.

It was a shame she was always so straight-laced. Tony had been with many redheads before, and he knew from experience that no matter how passive they may have seemed, they were VERY… well, vivacious… once they came out of their shells. It just took Pepper a ridiculously long time to come out of said shell, which appeared to be quite large.

Tony smiled, an evil plan beginning to form in his mind. Maybe this vacation wasn't a bad idea… it would be just him and Pepper… alone…on a beach… or in the water… at night… with alcohol… and only one bedroom…

Mmmm mm good. Possibilities.

-

Pepper was attempting to unpack, and not having much luck. She would pull out a neatly folded shirt, which would quickly become unfolded so she could fit it in the drawer, and then it would be rumpled, which reminded her of Tony, and the obvious things that one thought about when one thought about Tony Stark.

Pepper had had a crush on her boss for years. Who wouldn't? He was smart, witty, and effortlessly sexy. Women threw their panties at him, when they weren't throwing themselves.

But Pepper was a good girl. As redheads go, she was more Anne of Green Gables than Anne Margaret. She was far more like Nicole Kidman than Lindsey Lohan. She never had been, and never would be, a crazy redhead. In fact, Pepper was one of the most sane people she knew, especially compared to Tony. What with his debonair attitude, his hair that stayed perfect even after a night of insane women, his stupid flying metal trashcan that was, for some absolutely ridiculous reason, a total turn on for a certain personal assistant.

Pepper growled in frustration. There she was, thinking about Tony again, It was a vicious circle, a Catch-22. If she thought about Tony, she would think about waaaaay to much of Tony, and if she tried to concentrate on something else he would sneak into her thoughts, like the sexy little rat he was.

Pepper needed pest control. And fast.