Okay, I'm really really sorry for the delay. Blame college. Chapters are going to be sporadic here, but I promise that I will eventually finish. And please don't stop reviewing!
Ch 7: Falling
He woke them both up with his yelling and thrashing about. It was one of the night terrors that left him shaking and sweating and cold, with only a vague outline of what the dream had actually consisted of. He could, however, remember a pair of lifeless blue eyes, crystal clear and so obviously dead, so hollow and meaningless…
"Tony!"
He shifted in alarm and immediately dug his fingers into his palm at the pain radiating up his leg, spreading throughout his ribs, and dancing along a particularly nasty gash along his shoulder-blade. Tony caught his breath and focused on that same pair of cerulean eyes, except they were sharp and concerned and completely different. He was, at once, immensely relieved.
"Pepper?"
"Are you okay? You were screaming, and…"
They both looked down at her forearm, where the hard fingers of his other hand still grasped the pale skin at her wrist. Tony let go right away, swallowing hard. He could already tell that she was the type who bruised easily.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought…in my dream, you were…"
He reached out to her, unthinking, and she recoiled, holding her wrist. Something inside him shriveled up and died.
"It's nothing," she dismissed it easily, but it wasn't nothing and he knew it. Why she didn't just quit and leave him to some less-qualified simpering female was one of the great mysteries of life. Way up there with the Bermuda triangle and genetics.
He couldn't look at her – he stared down at his clenched fist. "You didn't have to stay. I wouldn't have known."
A wry smile. "I fell asleep too."
"Ah well. Better you than Jack Daniels, huh?"
"If you're trying to say that I'm better company than a glass bottle-"
"That's it. You've got it exactly."
"Well, thank you."
He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"Approximately 3 hours, Mr. Stark."
Tony pulled himself up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was expecting some sort of outburst from his anal-retentive personal assistant, but she was strangely calm. Albeit a little frightened by his nightmare, but otherwise there was no sign of hysteria. He tried to match this up with the information he already knew about Pepper (vegetarian, neat-freak, shoe fetish, the most punctual person he had ever met…).
She gave him an unsure half-smile as he gaped at her. "Is something wrong?"
"Shouldn't…don't you have things to do?"
Her expression changed from content to bewildered and upset, and finally settled into professional acquiescence. A horrible, impersonal mask. She stiffly rose from the chair, gathering some papers and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be going then, Mr. Stark. I only stayed because you made me promise…"
He realized too late how wrong that had sounded. "No, no. That's not what I meant…I mean, aren't you upset that you idled away three hours of your life napping? I have no problem with it, clearly, but you always get angry when I'm being 'clinically irresponsible'-"
"I canceled and rescheduled all of your appointments today, including any and all phone consultations, and I cleared up my schedule because I thought that you would need my help. So no, I don't have much to do right now."
And I intended to keep my sanity, she added silently to herself. Not that any sanity was being preserved here.
"Huh," he said, scrutinizing her unusually blank face. "Hey, don't be mad at the cripple."
Pepper relaxed a little. That was how he solved all of these little arguments; usually, he simply just said what he thought the situation needed. Sometimes he was too focused on something else to notice. He was being unusually observant.
"Is there anything else you need, Mr. Stark?"
"Oh, don't start with the…" he was stopped by her glare. "Yes, actually…I really do need to clean up."
Shit. "Can't you just take a shower?" Pepper asked somewhat desperately.
He ducked his head, flashed her that naughty Cheshire cat grin. "Stitches, remember? No showers 'til they're out. Doctor's orders."
She pursed her lips as she recognized her own words being thrown back in her face. Pepper looked down at the bulky plaster on his leg. "No hot-tub either. You can't get that wet."
She was actively thinking of a solution now, forgetting about the awkward situation. She drummed her fingers against her thigh subconsciously.
"I forgot to ask you. Want to sign my cast?"
She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "Don't you think you're a little old for that?"
He pouted. "Fine. I'll ask Rhodey then."
Pepper brightened. "I can bring a bucket of water out on the deck. It's hot outside, right?"
"Sure, whatever. Lead the way."
He reached for his crutches and stood up, arched his back. He started to take a step and faltered. She took his arm without a word. The polished floors of his living room were already scuffed by the rubber at the bottom of his crutches. Pepper looked at the marks and grimaced – she gave herself half an hour until she was on her hands and knees scratching at the floor with her fingernail. She had found out the hard way that almost everything she did for Tony wasn't in her job description.
When they went onto the deck, he breathed in deep. The crashing of the blue-green crests of water onto the glistening rocks below soothed both of their nerves, the wind teasing Pepper's hair out of the tight ponytail. He settled down in one of the lawn chairs, stretching his leg gingerly out in front of him. He watched her stride away from him, grinning. He had always thought she had legs to rival those of Hefner's Playmate of the Year. Granted, the fact that the busty brunette made weird monkey noises in bed had brought her down a notch. Tony was sure that Pepper was far too dignified to make any sort of squeaking noise. Then again, you never knew with redheads…
His musings were cut short as Pepper came back lugging a bucket of water, a sponge, and a washcloth. He didn't ask if the water was warm or cold – she had a look of determination that bespoke death or severe harm to anyone who challenged her.
As soon as she got close enough he called out to her. "Need some help?"
"Like you would be any help," she grumbled, hauling the bucket and setting it on the ground. With a deep, long-suffering sigh, she stripped off her suit jacket, revealing a pretty blue cami underneath. He wolf-whistled as she folded the jacket and placed it over the railing on the deck.
"I would appreciate it if you could keep the maturity level above age 16, Mr. Stark."
"I'll try, Ms. Potts. Scout's honor." He held one hand over his heart.
"You were never a scout."
"Never say never, Ms. Potts."
She stood in front of him and he squinted against the sun to look up at her.
"So what d'you want me to do?"
"I guess...take off…your shirt?"
"Knew I'd break you one day."
"Tony…"
"Spoil all the fun."
It was a navy blue button down polo. She looked away, blushing, as he undid the buttons himself. It's totally not awkward…I'm just watching my boss take off his shirt…slowly…
"You're staring."
"I am not."
"Are we really going to play this game?"
"Mr. Stark, if you would just-"
"You're in denial. You know that?"
"-I have much better things to do than-"
"-No you don't."
"No I don't what?"
"Have better things to do. You cleared your schedule."
She stared at him. "I can't do this."
"Ok. Alright, I'm sorry. I was just making a point…"
"No. No, something's wrong here."
"Really, I'll stop. I'm closing my eyes, now I can't see anything. Go ahead, wash me."
"Tony, look at me. Seriously."
He opened his eyes cautiously, with that little grimace that said he was expecting her to explode. She wasn't exploding. She was imploding. He sensed it. He suddenly felt a little naked without a shirt on.
"I think I'm going to close my eyes again, so if you'll excuse me-"
"No, you don't."
And suddenly her warm palms were on either side of his face, holding it there. His eyes flew open and stared into hers for the second time that day. She let go just as soon as he opened his eyes, a red blush creeping up her neck.
She spoke softly in comparison to their loud banter. "You were seriously injured. You're not sleeping well. You're having horrible nightmares…and you don't tell me anything anymore. You act like…I don't know, like nothing's wrong, like everything is how it used to be."
"You know more about me than anyone else. Except maybe Jarvis."
"I don't know anything about this Justice Squad you're apparently putting together…"
"Justice League…"
"Whatever. The point is, sometimes, you aren't invincible."
His voice was even softer. "Neither are you."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't have to have everything together all the time, you know. Sometimes, you can let yourself give in."
She could only nod, her hand limp on the arm of his chair. He picked it up carefully and turned it over, looking at her wrist.
"I'm sorry for that," he said somberly.
"I'll just put some cream on it later," she said breathlessly. Pepper usually had trouble drawing in oxygen when he looked at her like that.
He started to get up, the muscles in his torso shifting attractively. Now she actually was staring. Then she realized something was wrong with the picture.
"Where are you going?"
"You don't really seem in the washing mood, so I was going to-"
"A deal is a deal," she said, and proceeded to push him back down (gently), dip the sponge in the room temperature water, and place it on his arm. She squeezed it and they both watched the rivulets run off the tips of his fingers. He sucked in his breath at the delicate touch of her hand on his bare shoulder.
"This isn't going to work."
"No," she said quickly.
There was an uncomfortable, heavy pause. Then, for some inexplicable reason, Pepper "the Ice Queen" Potts found herself attached to Tony's face. His hands cradled her face, fingers shifting to splay across the back of her neck. First she was kneeling next to him, then sitting on his lap. She felt the smooth skin of his shoulders, his chest, his back as he kissed her, and it was more wonderful and frightening and different then she could have ever imagined. For once, she forgot about all the different women he had kissed and focused on the present, the right now, the heat flooding her entire body… When they finally parted for air, he smirked at her, his fingers venturing up the side of her tank top. She pushed his hand away, weakly.
She grinned shakily and got off his lap, feeling like a bit of an idiot. "I'm sorry; I was probably hurting you…"
"You were. You are. In a very good way. Don't stop."
"Can we at least go inside?"
He tilted his head and contemplated the red spot on her neck. "Think we'll make it to the couch?"
"Yes," she said a little more firmly.
They made it to the guest bedroom (one of them) before he pulled her down beside him, sliding on top of the cool sheets. However, her common sense was returning. A small, traitorous part of her wished that it could leave her alone for a while. A long, long while.
"Tony," she whispered as he was kissing her shoulder, her shirt discarded somewhere beneath them. If his leg was hurting, he didn't show it. The cast only slowed him down a little bit.
"Hmm?" his hands were at the small of her back, on her thigh…
"Tony," she hissed, her hands stilled on his chest. He reluctantly lifted his head and looked at her.
"What?"
"Maybe we shouldn't do this yet."
"Why not? You are 18 or older, yes? Because I for one do not see a problem here. There is no problem if I say there is no problem."
He was babbling. Then again, he had been waiting for a long time.
"I don't know, I wanted..."
"What? What do you want? Flowers, candles, chocolates? Pick one. You have about 10 seconds."
"Don't."
"Six, five, four, three…"
He kissed her again, sucking all the breath from her lungs. She managed to push him away, her fingers still twisted in his hair. Tony sighed and gave her a woebegone look.
"Later. I want to go home and get my stuff. And think about things."
"Don't think. Thinking is bad. Thinking leads to talking. Talking is not what I want to be doing. I don't think it's what you want to be doing either."
She gave him a kiss on the cheek and got out of bed. "I promise I'll be back."
"This is definitely a first for me."
He sat up, wincing. She couldn't help but lean over and kiss him again. She snatched her shirt and darted back before he could pull her back down.
"It's good for your ego," Pepper retorted.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "The only reason that I am allowing you to leave is because I prefer to be on top. And right now my leg is giving me hell."
She couldn't think of anything to say. She turned her back and marched out of the room, his laughter following her.
Pepper got in her Audi and took a deep, calming breath. She started the ignition and drove out of the garage. The music blasted from inside her car as she pulled into the apartment complex where she lived. The engine stalled as she sat in the car and squealed, leaning her head against the steering wheel. She felt like a stupid teenager whose crush had just asked her out. It was a little ridiculous.
She didn't remember getting out of the car, but somehow found herself at the door to her loft. She unlocked it and stepped in, kicking off her shoes immediately and going through a mental list of things she needed to pack. After all, she was a realist at heart. Pepper made her way to the bedroom, taking her smart phone out of her bag. Just in case Tony had a sudden inexplicable urge for cheerios or something.
The light was off. She reached out her hand to flick on the light switch when someone grabbed her from behind. An iron hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream. The barrel of a gun dug into her stomach.
The voice was soft and dangerous, with just a hint of an accent. She thought maybe Chinese. Pepper wondered why she was able to think rationally while being threatened.
"Ms. Potts? We have a proposition for you."
