A/N: Sorry it's a tad short. But here's the update. On time. :) A bunch of dialogue was taken/adapted from the movie. Thank you all for supporting this fic and see you next week (or maybe, possibly, don't get your hopes up too high, sooner)!
"...And it looks like Tony Stark was able to come to tonight's charity event. Look out ladies, he's looking fresh and ready to tackle the world. Speaking of which…"
Tony scanned the crowd, ignoring the questions and camera flashes. Where is… oh. Wow. Tony spotted Pepper on the fringes of the hubbub, a bright spot of blue in the sea of black, greys, and muted colors. The dress is familiar but different. Maybe it was the lighting, or the hem, or the cloth, or something but Tony felt a strange sort of relief that it didn't exactly match up with the dream's. He strode over to his PA, mumbling, "Nice dress," into her ear as he casually placed his arm around her waist and turned toward the group she was talking to. "Hello there, how are you ladies and gentlemen this evening?"
Between the polite titters and small talk they were having with the potential SI clients, Pepper hissed through clenched teeth at her boss and he quietly replied back.
"I thought you hated these things."
"Yes, but I just got out of a coma, Pep-"
"Exactly."
"-Can't a guy just go to his own gala charity event and dance with his assistant without everyone making a fuss?"
"Not a guy who- wait, dance? Tony-"
Tony flashed a smile at the new SI clients. "If you'll excuse us, I'd like to guide Ms. Potts to the dance floor." They smiled and nodded, gesturing towards a more empty area that just happened to lead to the patio. With all the grace he could muster (which was quite a lot considering being raised and living in a high class society), Tony led Pepper outside as she kept grumbling about "No deodorant" and "Always dance with my boss in a room with my colleagues."
"If you're feeling edgy about dancing with your boss, I could always fire you."
Pepper laughed. God, he missed that. "I don't think you could tie your shoes without me."
He pretended to ponder the thought. "I think I'd make it a week." His grin grew wider as she smirked.
"A week, really? What's your social security number?"
Shit. "Five…"
"'Five?' You're missing just a couple of digits."
"Right. The other eight." He looked at her eyes which never changed, not in his dreams, in his thoughts, in reality, never. "Well, I have you for the other eight." He felt himself lean in closer. Maybe, just maybe, he'd do it right this time, maybe the coma was the first try and here was the second, maybe, maybe…
He felt Pepper's breath stutter and pulled back. "Sorry. That was totally weird."
Pepper stepped out of his embrace. "Tony, we can't just, I mean, people are watching."
"Pep, it was just a dance."
"No, it was not just a dance. But you don't understand that because you're you and everybody knows exactly who you are and how you are with girls and all of that, which is completely fine." Tony tensed at the sting of her words, his past. "But, you know, there's me and this ridiculous dress, and you're my boss and I just don't think people see it as just…" She took a step back. "Just, I would like a drink, please."
Tony nodded stiffly. "Right. Got it. Vodka martini?" At least he remembered her preferred poison.
Pepper nodded, still trying to catch her breath. As he retreated back to the light mumbling about his stupidity, she added, "Very dry with olives. Like a lot of olives. Like, at least, three olives."
After placing the order, adding another martini because oh my god, he needed some alcohol right now, a rather familiar, rather irritating reporter approached him.
"Wow, Tony Stark." She just oozed sarcasm and irritability.
"Oh, hey." Do not get pulled, Stark. Do not get pulled in…
"Fancy seeing you here."
Don't be a snob about how it's your event. Just get out and away as quickly as possible. "Christine."
She actually looked surprised before settling back into her usual air of distaste. "You have a lot of nerve showing up here tonight. Can I at least get a reaction?"
"Shock, mostly. I had no idea-"
"Is that what you call accountability?" She shoved a stack of photos into his hands. He flipped through them, a chill settling throughout his body. Dammit. His weapons. Still wreaking destruction. He should have known, done something about it, about Stane. "It's a town called Gulmira. Heard of it?" He gave the photos back to Christine, grabbed Pepper's martini, and walked away.
"Stark? Stark! You'll have to answer my questions at some point!"
Tony handed the glass to a wilting Pepper. She nodded her thanks and opened her mouth to say something but he interrupted, "Hey Pep, I got to go. Maybe you were right, maybe I shouldn't be going out…" He held his head, because that's what ailing people do, right? Concern flashed across Pepper's face. "I'll be fine. Happy'll bring me home. I just need an Advil and some time on the couch." Was he crazy enough to see her eyes narrow ever so slightly in suspicion? "Seriously, just… just enjoy yourself. See you later." Tony walked away and out of the building. He spotted Obadiah smiling and talking to the camera flashes. Should he… nah. He already had Natasha discreetly checking though Obadiah's files. He didn't need to confront him about what he already knew.
"Mr. Stark!"
What now? He swiveled around, ready to chomp the head off the next reporter who asked him a question. Oh, wait, it was that guy that asked him about Bruce and the one Pepper was talking about, the one from the press conference. What was his name?
The man held out a hand as he slowed and approached the billionaire. "Agent Coulson of-"
"The Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. Yeah, I remember you."
Coulson slightly raised an eyebrow before saying, "We're called SHIELD, for short. Anyway, we need to debrief you about the event in Afghanistan. How about the 24th, 7:00 pm, Stark Industries?"
Tony eyed the set of T.V.'s in the storefront behind Coulson, all blaring headlines about Gulmira. "Tell you what. You got it. You're absolutely right. Just head on inside and make the date with Ms. Potts." He gestured behind him, taking a step towards the storefront as Coulson walked away, occasionally turning to see the man he'd heard so much crap about. He shrugged as he entered the building. Guy wasn't that bad.
"...The fifteen mile hike to the outskirts of Gulmira can only be described as a descent into hell…" Tony clenched his fists. He had a suit to change into.