One Week Later
He skipped out on a morning conference meeting and decided to take a personal day. What use was being in France if you couldn't relax? Jesus, he hadn't been to Paris in years. No thanks to Pepper or the insane scheduling she put him through, and the insensitivity to his birthday. Or the fact that he'd been dying. Then again, everyone had sort of glossed over that.
So when Pep called at around ten, asking him where the hell he was, he honestly said, "Not at the conference," with a tone of admittance, glancing around the outdoor cafe he was currently sitting at with his coffee steaming upon the small table beside him while he played Galaga on his phone.
"Yeah, I noticed that. You could warn me that you'll be a no show before you...you know-don't show. Just saying, it makes my job just a little bit harder and...are you-playing Galaga while talking to me on speaker?"
He was.
"That doesn't matter. Look. You have my fullest confidence, Pep. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. C'mon, I've been good all week. Loosen the leash a little. Leisure is the basis of culture; I don't know how you keep forgetting that."
"I know," she said sardonically, "Clearly I'm in the wrong here. What do you want me to tell Klepher?"
He made a non-committal noise, leaning slight as though it would veer his ship in the right way faster. "Tell him to change his name, first off; god," he muttered.
"Tony."
Silence.
"Tony!"
Game over. He sighed. "Yes! What? Tell him I'll see him for drinks tonight to apologize. Or something. Whatever he's into."
"What? Have you even been here this week? You can't make it tonight, you have the-"
"Au revoir, mon cheri," he cut her off in a mock-cheery way.
"I am really tired of-" Her frustrations were cut off with a press of a button. Ah, technology.
Pepper sighed outside the conference hall, pulling the phone from her ear just in time to see the call end. Unbelievable. He was being just a little more impossible than usual, and once again, his mess was defying gravity and falling into her lap. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What's the matter? Stark taking a rain check?"
"No-" she turned quickly, closing her phone. Rain colored eyes set upon an older gentleman in a well fitting States uniform, and she smiled, relaxing slightly as she appraised him. "I mean...yes. I mean," She shut her eyes patiently, pushed back her ire at Tony, and continued, "An important matter came to Mr. Stark's attention that he had to address."
"Of course," the elder gentleman nodded cordially, giving her a winning smile. His hair used to be blond, but now it sat a bit salty on his head, as well as his mustache. He sounded like he completely understood on a level most didn't. "Mr. Stark is a busy man. But you, young lady, I've heard you're essentially him in spirit."
"Essentially." Her teeth flashed genuinely and she chuckled. "That's...well, that's one way to put it." The man chuckled with her, and extended his hand. She took it and he squeezed courteously. "Pepper Potts."
"General Thaddeus Ross."
"General Ross," she repeated carefully. "Wow. It's good to finally meet you."
"Likewise, Miss Potts. Actually, you're just the person I wanted to see."
She squeezed his hand in return, and the color drained from her smiling face.
