The season is moving quickly now, and Pepper isn't sure she's ready to deal with Tony's schedule, the various projects coming up *and* the personal joy and frustration of her relationship with the man. Along with the Christmas card list, the various charity functions, the decorating both at the office and here at the mansion, the shopping, the bonus checks, the end of the year books and all the last minute priorities, she's everywhere at once.
One of the blessings, though, is moving into the mansion. Pepper is grateful to be able to cut out her daily commute and get to work the minute she finishes her hour on the treadmill and steps out of the shower. Jarvis scrolls her agenda along a corner of the mirror and she reads through it as she does her make-up, grateful for the coffee that he serves as well, the cup hot and steaming on the bathroom counter.
By the time she's in the kitchen eating her cereal and toast, Pepper already has her phone list prioritized, and a firm plan for the day laid out. She plays with Rrrrrrr for a bit, then gives Jarvis whatever household instructions apply ("Please thaw the pot roast at three, and have Dummy sweep both the shop and the greenhouse today") then goes back to the bedroom and wakes Tony up.
The majority of the time she succeeds in getting him out of bed, moving him along the way she has for years; Pepper Potts has a PhD in Stark wrangling, not that anyone offers a degree in it. Tony either grumbles and slowly follows her patient directions, or scrambles out and hustles himself along if there are big plans for the day.
But now that Pepper has moved in, Tony has developed a third response, which is to make every attempt to seduce her into coming back to bed and blowing off the morning. Sometimes literally. Pepper has resisted, although it's difficult when a naked Tony Stark is barely covered in a sheet, crooking his finger at her in a beckoning manner, his smile promising all sorts of naughty thrills that he's very, very good at delivering.
It's a tease and both of them enjoy the game. Pepper has decided Tony has a definite interest in play-acting, and figures one morning she'll play back, just to see how he reacts. She's got faith it will definitely be fun.
In the meantime, she makes sure they can both make it to Doctor Phair's office in good time.
*** *** ***
They've been referred.
Doctor Phair has recommended her colleague, Mildred Bingham, to take on the issue of birth control, citing Doctor Bingham's specialty in Gynecology and Reproductive health. Both Tony and Pepper agree; Doctor Bingham's credentials are impressive, and her discretion impeccable.
The questionnaires she's given them, though, are uncomfortably thorough, Tony notes, and he's wincing at some of the personal inquiries demanded of him. It's for a good cause; one of the best as far as he's concerned but still, listing out one's full sexual history on paper and seeing all of it in black and white is a bit . . . alarming.
There's a lot, Tony sighs; quantity without quality.
Looking over, he notes that Pepper is concentrating over her clipboard, looking like a pretty coed taking a quiz. Tony wonders what question she's up to, so he leans over to take a peek. Pepper doesn't notice him for a moment too long; indignantly she pulls her clipboard to her chest in a defensive move, but it's too late, and Tony's eyes are wide.
"You've *done* number twenty-three?" he demands in a loud whisper. "No way! I'm calling you on *that* one, Potts!"
"Tony!" Pepper hisses. They're in a small office adjacent to Doctor Bingham's main one, trying to get their paperwork done. Tony scoots his rolling chair over to Pepper attempting to snatch her clipboard from her.
"And what *else* have you done, hmmmm?" he inquires, smirking at her. "It's bad to lie, you know."
"I'm *not* lying," she shoots back. "I've had . . . experiences, you know."
"No, I *don't* know," Tony grumbles, still going for the clipboard. "But I'm about to—"
He never gets the chance; the door opens and a tall, lanky woman with frizzy iron-grey hair and a no-nonsense look stares in at the two of them, her manner making it clear that whatever horseplay is going on is not approved of.
Not many people can cow Tony Stark, but Doctor Bingham has just made that exclusive group. "What the hell are you doing, Mr. Stark?"
"Nothing," Tony mumbles, rolling away and trying to look innocent. He misses the doctor's quick, conspiratorial wink at Pepper.
"Are the two of you finished then?"
Tony nods; Pepper does too and they hand over their clipboards to the doctor. She tucks them under her arm and gives a commanding nod of her head to the door. "Okay then, let's go take a look at these in my office."
Doctor Bingham settles in behind her huge desk, scanning one of the clipboards, her concentration on it while Tony and Pepper sit in the plush chairs on the other side. Tony notes that there is a large crystal ashtray on the desk, with fresh ashes in it.
"Wow," comes her murmur as she flips a sheet up and continues reading. "Jeez, Stark, didn't you have any *other* hobbies in your twenties?"
Tony's face flushes bright red and next to him, Pepper is not hiding her amusement very well.
Doctor Bingham continues. "Three to four nights a week for roughly twelve years . . . that's six tablespoons a week, rounding up . . . about fifty-four gallons of semen to this point. Quite the overachiever, but then again, look who I'm talking to, right?"
"I . . . do my part to live up to the reputation," Tony manages, getting a little of his own back, and Doctor Bingham laughs, her face lighting up when she does so. She sets the clipboard down and looks at Tony, shaking her head a little.
"You deserve it, stud, although I'm glad you're taking things more seriously now. I think we can put 'fully functional' as the best categorization for your current situation, but you're due for a prostate exam."
Tony makes a face; Doctor Bingham rolls her eyes. "Give me a break, Stark—according to this questionnaire, it's not like you haven't had things up your back porch before."
The blush returns but Doctor Bingham sighs and splays elegant hands on both clipboards before she looks up at Tony and Pepper.
"Okay, let me talk plainly here. My specialties are Gynecology and Urology, which means I know the plumbing systems of men and women pretty well. From the inside out, you could say. But the physical part is only one aspect of the entire system, and that's why I had you fill out so much personal detail here. I'm not *trying* to make you uncomfortable, though you will be, at first. What I'm trying to do is help us all accept that sexuality is an organic whole, and that your hearts and minds are as much a part of what goes on between your legs as anything else."
There is a pause as Tony and Pepper digest this; Doctor Bingham waits until they both look up at her again and she smiles. "There you go--I just want to reassure you both that I'm not a voyeur or a pervert when I ask you about your experiences, your preferences and your expectations."
"Thank you," Pepper murmurs softly. "I appreciate that very much."
"Do we . . ." Tony motions a finger at the clipboards on the desk, "Get a chance to look those over? Specifically each other's? Because I'm pretty sure Miss Potts here has . . . exaggerated a few things."
"Really?" Doctor Bingham drawls out a bit, looking at Pepper.
"No, I haven't," Pepper lifts her chin. She's blushing again too, but there's a firmness to her tone that shows the joke may have gone a bit too far, and that Tony had better back off.
He's learning. With a little sidelong glance that promises for an interesting discussion in the future, Tony settles back in his chair, keeping silent.
For the moment.
Doctor Bingham brings the tips of her fingers together and draws in a breath. "Let me guess . . . the two of you haven't been lovers for very long, have you?"
"No, not really," Pepper admits. "Although we've known each other for years."
"So I noticed. Do you talk much about sex? About what you like, about what you've tried?"
Silence fills the room, and Doctor Bingham nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, that says a lot right there. Okay, setting the getting to know you discussion aside for a moment, let's talk birth control. From what I read, your current method of contraception is condoms. Very commendable, especially on your part, Mr. Stark. I approve . . . ."
"--Thank you--" Tony interjects, smiling at this show of approval for his responsibility.
Doctor Bingham continues. " . . . because you're the more likely of the two of you to have contracted an STD."
His face falls for a moment, but the doctor waves a hand at Tony. "Don't get pissed; it's the simple truth and we all know it. I for one am not in any damned position to judge, so don't think I'm coming at you from that angle. I'm just going by facts here, and given that your bloodwork's clean, you've been a cautious and consistent latex user. Again, I approve. However, since the two of you are looking for something with better contraceptive statistics, let's talk over the choices. Oh, and stop me anytime you've got a question, all right? I tend to talk fast when I'm on a roll."
Doctor Bingham then takes them through a long and thoughtful discussion of the options, everything from sterilization through the IUD ("Not really an option for you, Pepper, not with the internal scarring you already have.") Despite her words, Doctor Bingham actually takes her time, and both Tony and Pepper loosen up enough to ask good questions of her.
In the end, it comes down to the Pill, which in the right dosage will not only provide good contraception, but also help Pepper's endometriosis through hormones. Doctor Bingham nods in approval of the choice and writes out the prescription on a pad. "All right then. And I want to add that I'm impressed with you, Stark. The fact that you care enough to be here says a hell of a lot to me about your stake in this."
"I love Pepper," Tony says firmly. "I want what's best for her, always."
Pepper reaches for his hand. "Thank you, Tony."
"Ah young love," Doctor Bingham murmurs, but smiles. "Okay then Pepper, we'll start you out with the low to mid dose and see how that works. If after three months you don't think it's helping, we'll take it from there. And Stark—you make an appointment for that prostate exam before you leave this building, or I'll hunt you down and do it wherever I find you," she threatens balefully.
They rise to leave; Doctor Bingham halts Tony. "Just a minute. I'd like a word with you in private, Stark."
Reluctantly, Pepper steps out. "I'll go make that appointment," she murmurs as she does so.
Tony winces again and turns to face Doctor Bingham, who has come out from behind her desk. She reaches out and taps his chest. "Let me take a look."
He unbuttons his shirt to reveal the arc to her. Doctor Bingham marvels at it a moment, lightly touching the scar tissue around the rim of it, her focus intent. "Amazing. No rejection, no infection around the implantation site?"
"Nope," Tony tells her as they both look down at it.
Doctor Bingham nods thoughtfully. "Then you're a medical anomaly for more reasons than one, Stark. I'm sure you'd veto it, but I can think of a few gene experts who'd love to unravel your DNA."
"Maybe after I'm dead. I've got a lot to do right now," Tony shoots back, but mildly. "Is Pepper going to be all right?"
"Yes," comes the assurance. "She's healthy and taking care of her stress. More than that, I can't say because of confidentiality. And about those clipboards?" Doctor Bingham smirks. "I'm pretty sure she's been honest. If number twenty-three intrigues you so much, you can always share your interest in numbers nine and sixteen in return."
Tony blushes yet again. "I was young; I was experimenting!"
"Pffft! You're a normal, healthy and overachieving adult male who could probably write a best-selling tell-all sex manual," Doctor Bingham retorts. "Everything's normal, so spend a little more time talking to your ladylove, okay? Stick with the condoms through Christmas, and you'll be able to bring in the New Year bareback. And don't miss that prostate exam."
*** *** ***
The first lights to go up are on Paradiso. Tony hangs them himself with Dummy and Butterfingers, and while it's not a professional job, they look gorgeous in the twilight, twinkling in red, green, blue and white. Pepper keeps them on while she tends to the garden, humming to the carols coming through the sound system.
A few days later, Tony hires professionals to outline the house in lights, and the clean beauty of the Malibu mansion edged in green and red lights is a marvel. Pepper adds big, fresh evergreen wreaths with red velvet bows to the front doors.
Bit by bit, Christmas shows up throughout the place. Peppermint striped candles; some fat, some long and elegant in holders show up on counters and on the piano. Crystal snowflakes, glittering and beautiful hung at various heights from the ceiling in the living room, and Pepper uses the Christmas cards Tony's received to decorate around the doors in cheery displays.
Tony hangs mistletoe in his workshop.
Not content with the usual small sprig, he's paid Moon Meadow Nursery for a bush about the size of Wisconsin and it looms inside the glass doorway of the garage, heavy with white berries and red ribbon, looking slightly ominous.
"Overkill, Tony," Pepper murmurs, breathless from the fourth kiss of the day.
"Subtle is *so* not me," he points out. "I do things in a big way, Potts. Speaking of which, we need a tree."
"We do," she agrees, smirking. "Not going with the mechanical one this year?"
One of Tony's creations is the expanding engineer's tree he created out of green metallic rods and pistons that rises up fifteen feet and unfolds its branches, forming a perfect cone shape of glittering green metal bars interlocked for extra strength. It's very Modern Art, especially with the geodesic ornaments added to it, and Tony could easily patent the entire thing, but isn't interested in doing so.
"Much as I like Dummy's sister, I think we both deserve genuine pine this year. Think you can handle that?"
"My forte, Mr. Stark." Pepper pauses and adds, "Um, ornaments?"
Tony looks up from the little three-dimensional device projected on his worktable and thinks. "Do I have any?"
"I . . . I don't know," Pepper tells him. "You may, in storage. Usually you just have me buy new ones every year and then donate them to the hospitals."
"Storage, storage . . . Yeah. I think I remember a box. We'll go get them out after dinner. Do *you* have any?" he asks curiously. Pepper has been moving in carton by carton over the last two weeks, and it's been fun to see her incorporate her belongings into the mansion. Tony has cleared out space and fallen in love with a few of her possessions to her amusement. Her painting of the Brant Point lighthouse is now hanging in the kitchen, and all her thick cotton bath sheets are in the Master bathroom.
Pepper has resigned herself to the fact that her Lazy Boy recliner is going to stay permanently here in the garage now, since Tony has claimed it for his own, stacking his tech journals and reference manuals for the cars all around it.
"Actually, I do. I have a few boxes and some lights, but most of them are . . . not really gorgeous," she confesses. "They're sentimental rather than ornamental."
"All the better," Tony tells her, flicking the projection off and coming over to her.
There's a look on his face that Pepper has a suspicion about, and she counters with a smirk, sidestepping his arms. "We have the televised Toys for Tots benefit to attend in two hours, Tony."
"And after that," he jumps on the end of her statement, "we can have dinner, and you can tell me about things."
"Things." Pepper fights a grin. Ever since leaving Doctor Bingham's office, she's known this inquiry would come. Tony simply cannot handle that she, Pepper Potts, might have done things other than vanilla missionary position sex.
"Things," he persists. "Bingham said we should talk."
"Talking is good. Talking is two-way, Tony; I'm not going to do *all* the talking."
"No," he tells her, "but you can go first."
"This is about twenty-three, isn't it?" Pepper sighs, putting her arms up around his neck and brushing his mouth with hers. "You think I lied?"
"I don't think you lied."
"But you're intrigued."
"Totally. It's just not . . . not a *you* thing, Snuggles. And I mean that in the nicest 'you are totally a good girl' sort of way, all right?"
"Would it upset you if I told you I liked it?" Pepper sighs against his mouth. "And that I didn't know how to bring it up with you because you'd think I was doing it for you and not for me?"
"No, and really? Frankly, I'm not exactly a grand expert, but yes the idea is *damned* intriguing—incendiary, actually-- and I'm perfectly willing to, um, perform to specifications if you just say the word," Tony half-growls, half moans, his hands sliding around her slender waist to grip her ass possessively.
Pepper nips his lower lip for a moment, and pulls back, a happy glitter in her eyes, high color on her cheekbones. "Then *maybe* we ought to plan on a nice long dinner after the benefit, Mr. Stark, and . . . go over our numbers."