Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. All others are mine, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.

If it weren't for Cincoflex, I couldn't do this. She has patiently kept me on track, soothed my fears, cheered me on, and made sure I do this right. Thank you, my dear.

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It was just the next day that the call came in from Fury.

Pepper blinked at the indicator that sprang up in the lower left-hand corner of her desktop. She recognized the circled A as the Avengers' symbol, but-- What's it doing on my computer?

Apparently it was some kind of instant-messaging program; it began scrolling text. Pepper tapped the window to expand it, and found what appeared to be an ongoing transcript of a conversation between her boss and Nick Fury. Bemused, she watched the conversation unfold as Fury ordered Tony to report for some kind of mission, and Tony--using words that she didn't usually hear from him--insulted Fury. But within moments an agreement had been reached.

Seconds later Tony blasted out through his office door, ruffled and stormy, and covered the distance between them with a few long strides. "Did you get that?" he asked in a low voice, obviously trying to avoid catching the attention of anyone in the outer office through her open door.

Pepper looked up at him. His expression was grim, eyes already focused on something beyond the here and now. Pepper swallowed apprehension and gave him a professional nod. "Yes."

He nodded back, once and sharp. "Fury doesn't like that thing, but you insisted." He waved in the direction of her terminal. "I..."

"You need to get going," Pepper told him softly.

Tony looked down at her, his expression shifting to something rueful and somehow pained. "I know." His hand lifted, and his knuckles skimmed her cheek in a caress that was far more tender than sensual. "Usually you give me a kiss goodbye."

If he was trying to tease, he didn't really succeed. Something in the back of Tony's eyes was...not scared, exactly, but sad. Pepper had seen the results of various Iron Man missions in Jarvis' records, and she knew that each one carried a heavy load of risk, super-armor and repulsor technology notwithstanding.

And she wasn't about to deny that she was frightened for him already. "Tony--"

He breathed out. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He started to turn away, but as his hand dropped away Pepper caught it, and pulled.

Surprised, awkward, he bent down, and she pressed a kiss not to his lips but to his own cheek, just above the line of his beard. "Be safe," she murmured.

His smile was twisted, but definite. And then he was gone, moving with a speed that cleared people out of his way without a word being spoken. Pepper watched the elevator doors close, and then let go the breath she'd been holding.

The little window was still open on her desktop. It held one more block of text--the mission specs, Pepper realized as she read it. They didn't make a lot of sense to her, being written in what amounted to a code, but the site of action was listed as Brazil.

Carefully, Pepper saved and closed it, and made herself go on with the work of the day, which now included various cancellings and reschedulings. This is what it's like, she told herself. This is Tony's life now.

And for the rest of the day that wonder kept running underneath her concentration. The Tony she remembered would have laughed himself sick over the idea of being part of a superhero team, and then poured himself another drink.

Pepper had to admit, somewhere in the depths of her private mind, that she respected the new Tony a lot more.

It took two days for him to come back. Pepper spent them working as hard as she could, filling every second she could find with tasks, and wondering, rather sourly, why her vanished older self hadn't insisted on some kind of update system. Jarvis, when queried, only said that no one was answering at the Avengers' headquarters.

The nights were as quiet as the one where he'd been gone to Georgia, and Pepper found herself unable to sleep much; instead, she took a pot of herbal tea and a cozy out onto the terrace and wrapped up in a blanket, listening to the waves and just...waiting.

It gave her a lot of time to think. About herself, about her missing past, about the choices she'd made. And about the man whose life shaped hers.

It was her choice; Pepper recognized that. It had always been her choice, from the moment she'd been offered the position of Tony Stark's personal assistant. She could have kept things strictly professional; she could have resigned.

Instead, she'd stayed. Partly for the challenge, partly for--and there was no shame in admitting it--the money. If there was one trait Pepper held onto, it was prudence.

It was a good job, too, one worth doing. Some might say that it was a waste of her life, but Pepper didn't see it that way. Tony did achieve great things--had even before he'd changed--and Pepper considered herself a part of those achievements. She helped make them possible.

And partly, eventually, she'd stayed because she liked her boss. Tony was, or had been, an irresponsible, alcoholic, ego-driven playboy, but he'd also been not only a genius with some world-changing ideas but a genuinely sweet person under all the hype and masks. She hadn't thought much of his personal choices, but Pepper had truly enjoyed his company when he wasn't trying to drive her up a wall. He could be smart, he could be witty, he could be quite a bit of fun when he put his mind to it. He drove her to the limits of her patience and beyond, but sent her home the instant he realized she had the flu; he called her at ridiculous hours, but had the habit of appearing out of nowhere with a cup of tea and making her take a break. He ruined her infrequent dates if he found out about them, but he bought her lavish presents and made her accept them on the spurious grounds that they were tax breaks.

He made her laugh.

And as she watched the stars pass overhead, Pepper came to the conclusion that perhaps her vanished self hadn't been so stupid.

It wasn't just the fragments she remembered--a few quiet domestic moments here and there, a kiss or two, and one truly incendiary flashback that Pepper was just as glad she had recalled while Tony had been out, because the sound of him in ecstasy had made her cheeks burn for an hour--no, it was also the feeling that she could trust him.

A sensation that had started foreign, but was becoming more familiar every day.

If he really has changed--and it looks like he has--then...then...

The notion scared Pepper almost as much as it intrigued her. Because she had always known that it would be easy to become infatuated with her boss--dumb, but easy. Now that he was worthy of respect as well as caring...

...Well, the fall would be long and hard.

The question is, will he be ready to catch you?

All the evidence did point to "yes".

He came as a comet the second dawn, arcing down from the lightening sky, and Pepper threw off the blanket and hurried down to the garage as the red-and-gold streak vanished from her line of sight. This time she stood waiting as the robots stripped away the armor, wincing as she saw the scores and dents, the smoky streaks.

This is much worse than last time.

Tony was in little better shape than his suit, staggering a bit as he stepped out of the boots, his eyes ringed and his hair stiff with sweat. Without having to think Pepper steadied him, ignoring the reek of metal and unwashed male, slipping an arm around his waist and feeling one of his landing heavily on her shoulders. "Hey," he mumbled.

"How badly are you hurt?" Pepper asked practically, guiding him off the platform and not missing the hitch in his breathing. "Jarvis?"

"Bruises and contusions only," came the reassuring electronic answer. "But he is exhausted and dehydrated. Fluids are a priority."

"Tattletale," Tony grunted, heading for the couch, but Pepper steered him towards the elevator instead.

"Bed," she said firmly. "You need to actually rest."

Tony shook his head, but she brooked no protest, and he seemed to be too tired to fight her. "You stay then," he muttered as the elevator carried them upward. "It's our bed."

If it would make him rest, Pepper didn't want to argue. "Fine. Just as long as you lie down."

She made him sit on the edge of the still-made bed. "I'll be right back." Pepper gave him a stern look as she stepped back. "Don't go anywhere."

Tony raised an acknowledging hand, his eyes barely open, and she half-ran to the kitchen, her heart aching. He looked so drained, so absolutely flattened, that it frightened her almost more than an injury might. Something else is wrong.

There were three large bottles of sports drink on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, kept for just such a contingency. Pepper grabbed two of them along with a large plastic cup, and took them back with her.

When she reached the room, Tony was just struggling into a pair of loose pajama bottoms. The neoprene lay discarded on the carpet, and Pepper drew in a breath at the sight of the bruises blooming across Tony's back and arms. "Physics won again?" she said, managing to keep her tone light.

He turned, staggered, and caught himself on the edge of the dresser. "Physics cheated." His voice was hoarse.

Pepper set the bottles down on the floor next to the bed, and by the time she'd straightened Tony was making his way back to the bed, wobbly but upright. He sank down with a pained sigh, and Pepper opened one bottle and filled the cup. "Here."

She half-expected a protest, but he drank off the neon-colored liquid in one draught and handed the cup back, nodding at the bottle she held. Pepper filled the cup again, and this time he drank more slowly, hunching over as if every muscle and bone hurt.

When the drink was gone, Pepper took the cup. "Lie down."

She didn't remember having the skill to pull the covers out from under someone lying on top of them, but apparently she'd learned it at some point, because her hands knew how. The linens smelled clean and crisp, and Tony merely sighed again as she dragged them up over him, his eyes already closed. But his hand groped for hers and wrapped tightly around her fingers. "Stay," he repeated.

Pepper pulled her hand free, which made him pry his eyes open again, but it was only so she could settle herself next to him, her back against the headboard. It felt right to reach out and take his hand again, and Tony rolled over with a groan so that he could press his face against her thigh. Within seconds, he was asleep.

I don't know what I'm doing, Pepper thought as the sun rose and the windows darkened to keep out the light. But I think it's the right thing.

Tony slept without moving for almost four hours. Pepper dozed in the dimness, drifting into sleep and back out again, listening to his occasional snuffle against her pajama leg. She had cleared his schedule for three days, so there was plenty of time for him to rest, and Pepper was too tired to think too much about her own actions.

But when he whined and flopped over onto his back, she woke completely. "How are you feeling?"

Tony blinked up at her, gaze still fairly unfocused. "Like hell," he echoed.

Pepper found the cup and refilled it; the sports drink had gone warm, but Tony braced himself stiffly on one elbow and drank it down with nothing more than a grimace. "I'll get you some painkillers," she told him.

"I want a shower," he said, and sat up slowly. The bruises were darkening, but Pepper kept her exclamation of dismay to herself.

This time Tony managed to get upright without help, and limped to the bathroom. Pepper stripped the bed and remade it with fresh sheets, and took the unopened bottle back to the kitchen to switch it out for a chilled one. "Jarvis?" she asked. "What is Tony's usual pattern for this kind of thing?"

The AI's voice was grave. "More sleep once he is clean. The fluids and analgesics are most appropriate. He should also eat, but at this level of exhaustion he finds food nauseating."

Pepper grimaced. "All right. It'll have to wait until he wakes up again, then."

"You too require nourishment," Jarvis pointed out gently. "Tony will be some time in the shower yet."

She had to smile. "Yes, mother. You'll let me know if..."

"I am monitoring him closely," the AI assured her.

Pepper made herself a sandwich, chasing down the hasty bites with a glass of milk. Retreating to her room, she changed out of her pajamas and into a t-shirt and slacks, pulling her hair back into a quick ponytail. There's the coverall to deal with...

She made it back to the master bedroom just as Tony emerged from the bathroom. He had found a clean pair of drawstring bottoms, but hadn't bothered with a top, and he looked a little more awake, if still completely drained. Disappointment flickered across his face as he saw her changed attire. "I'll be downstairs."

"What? Tony--" Pepper caught his arm as he turned towards the door. "No. You need to stay up here."

"Not without you." His jaw set in the stubborn line she knew too well, though his gaze slid away from her. "I won't sleep in here without you."

Pepper huffed, considered a number of responses, and then gave them all up when he swayed minutely. "Take your pills and lie down."

More sports drink, and three analgesics, and then she was easing him back down to the mattress. Pepper slid onto it beside him, in the same position as before, but this time Tony settled his head on her lap, one hand hooking over her knee as if to keep her there.

She sighed. What the hell is wrong with him? The thought was exasperated. Why can't he see reason?

But she knew why, she just didn't want to admit it, didn't want the lump in her throat that the reason brought. The fact that he wouldn't consider using the damned bed unless she was in it too...

It was just one more piece of evidence that she didn't know quite how to deal with.

Pepper let her hand fall to stroke his damp hair, because he seemed to need it. And though she didn't want to admit that either, she did too.

Tony was silent for so long that Pepper assumed he was asleep again, but then he startled her by speaking.

"It was a whole village."

Pepper blinked, and made a faint encouraging noise. After a moment he went on. "Some local warlord found a witch doctor who could hypnotize people. Fury said he had to be a mutant of some kind. The whole place was turning out ricin at an obscene rate."

His shoulders heaved in another sigh. "We took out the witch doctor. The problem was, everybody he'd Svengali'd just...dropped. Dead. The place got so quiet..."

Her eyes were burning at the desolation in his voice, and Pepper wondered if it was his hands that had ended the witch doctor's life. "He had everybody, down to the four-year-olds. Anyone with enough manual dexterity. Everybody was trying to resuscitate someone, and it didn't work. Nothing left but the warlord and a couple of goons, and three babies."

Tony rubbed his cheek against her leg, his hand tightening on her knee. "We had to do a house-to-house--almost missed them, except they were crying..."

And she was crying, for the people they'd failed to rescue and for Tony himself, so devastated by something he couldn't have helped. But words were futile, so Pepper just kept stroking his hair, over and over, offering the only comfort she could.

She's so beautiful.

That was all Tony could think. Pepper lay sleeping next to him, sprawled on her belly with her hand still in his, most of her hair hanging down around her face although a few strands were still bunched back in a scrunchie. She was frowning just slightly, the look she got when concentrating, and he wondered what she was dreaming about.

He'd slept forever, it seemed, drifting off in a haze of pain and exhaustion, and when he'd first opened his eyes he hadn't been sure if waking was a dream, or the past month was. Eventually, though, he'd figured out it was neither, and he hadn't mustered the energy to move.

He'd rather watch Pepper, anyway.

It had been a bad mission. Even Fury had admitted that. And while Tony himself hadn't taken too much damage, the temperature control on his suit had shorted out after a lucky strike, leaving him fighting through a gush of sweat as the local temperature made itself felt. Fighting mind-controlled slaves, they'd found out too late; some of those people were soldiers of fortune, but most of them had just been zombified by the local mad doctor or whoever. And still the team had had to kill, because a zombie with a machine gun or a grenade launcher is still very dangerous, and they'd all been sick to the point of tears by the end of it...

He'd found one of the kids. Some toddler, face red with screaming, back in the dark corner of a house that held no one else but corpses, and it had taken him a good thirty seconds to remember to lift his face shield so the kid could actually see a human face. Not that it had helped much, but at least the kid hadn't fought when Tony had picked it up. In fact, it--girl or boy, he didn't know--had clung to him, to the suit, still wailing, when Tony had passed it on to the aid workers Fury had found somewhere.

Somehow, that had been the worst part.

He hadn't been entirely sure that he'd make it home, that the suit would get him that far. Fortunately the flight had cooled him down somewhat. And then Pepper had been there, right where she was supposed to be, dammit, as though nothing had changed at all, and...

The rest of the morning was kind of hazy in his memory. Tony thought ruefully that he was, at least at the moment, content to leave it that way. Content to rest in the now, to pretend that everything was all right, that he lived in a world where monsters didn't enslave innocents to make bioweapons.

A world where Pepper was by his side and had never left it.

But it was a fragile illusion, because if he did live in that world, the natural thing would be to lean forward and kiss her awake, so she would smile at him.

He was so damn tempted.

Pepper's eyes opened, clear and calm, and Tony blinked back at her, wondering what was going to happen next. Would she blush? Get up and leave? Pull her hand away? What--

She shifted, and her other hand came up and slid gently down over his brows, making his eyes close. "Go back to sleep, Tony," she told him softly.

So he did.