Greetings everyone! You know, writing your own thoughts is extremely difficult...but writing the thoughts of fictional characters that you don't own or have not created (insert disclaimer here) is absolutely complex, infuriating, and exhilarating all together at the same time.

I hope you enjoy this first chapter of a series I hope to put into words…I just have to get it out of my head first. Does that make sense? Great! Well, read, enjoy, and review—in that order…

Pepper Potts loves to run.

The impact of her feet upon the pavement sent a sensation straight through to her heart. Its rhythmic beating begins to increase as her run begins to lengthen. Her usual path brings her through the same small suburban park with a beautifully manicured lawn and a playground. The early morning dew sticks to her feet as she cuts through the grass heading towards the beach path she is familiar with.

She pauses at the street intersection while keeping her feet in constant motion. She cranks up the volume on her music and tightens her ponytail as she waits for the signal to change in her favor. Walk. And she runs.

God, she loves to run.

She can control her speed, her direction, her breathing, her music…she was in control. The best part? There are no distractions. No email, no cell phone, no meetings or deadlines, no interviews, no one asking her for a moment of her time, no rescheduling of appointments.

No Tony Stark.

It's not that she dislikes his company-- Far from it in fact. His constant bantering, witty and ego-driven commentary, and his suave, charming mannerisms make her enjoy his company each day she entered the office. In fact, despite the increased attention he has gotten since his…'return' from Afghanistan, his revealing of his superhero alter-ego, and his suspiciously increasing flirtatious behavior with yours truly, she has enjoyed the challenge of keeping Tony on task, keeping his business in order, and fending off reporters.

Things were going good. No stress.

Nope. She wasn't stressed. "You seem…tense," he told her last night. She had been finishing up an expense report in front of the television in the living room of Stark's mansion when his voice came from behind. She had shifted from her position on the couch to turn and face him. His hair was mussed and his formerly white t-shirt was smudged with grease and dirt. A red towel flopped back and forth between his hands as he watched her.

"What?" She responds, fully aware of the fact that she heard him the first time.



"Tense. Anxious. Nervous…" He shrugged his shoulders and finished, "…stressed." He paused, not sure if he should continue. He smiled a crooked smile to show her he was just making an observation, not an accusation.

"Well, I'm not," she lied. Effectively ending the short interchange, she gathered her notebook and the rest of her belongings, said goodnight, and left for the evening…Leaving him standing alone in his living room and staring at her retreating form.

Today, she ran. She ran for herself. To clear her mind of all the things that could ever possibly contribute to her being 'stressed'.

Of course, that was not the only reason she had left as quickly as she did last night. Just before Tony had come up from his workshop, there had been a CNN News breaking report. A new weapons cache had been discovered on the northern border of Iraq. The details were sketchy at best, but it was confirmed that most of the weapons had been birthed from Stark Industries.

Pepper remembered her pen had stopped in mid-signature, and her head snapped up to pay full attention to the TV screen. Her heart began thumping in her chest as she listened to the reporter admit that the authorities did not know what their next move was going to be.

But Pepper knew.

She knew what was going to happen. He was going see this, then he will inform Pepper to clear his schedule for the next three days. Then the newly familiar rumbling from deep within Tony Stark's mansion would precede the bright streak of a jet-propelled suit as it flew off into the night sky.

Her throat went dry and she furrowed her brow as she closed her eyes trying to will the sudden images of explosions, bent and contorted metal, and an injured Tony Stark out of her mind. "Jarvis, please change the station," she managed to instruct the house AI.

"Of course, Miss Potts." Jarvis responded politely.

Moments later, her boss of nine years emerged from his workshop and proceeded to impulsively make an observation of his faithful assistant. He had obviously not been watching the news.

So she left for the evening. Feeling more stressed than ever.

And today, the day after the news report, she ran. She ran from the stress and the fear that in just a few hours she would have to reschedule three days of appointments for a man that she was sure she cared for more than she would admit to herself. She ran because it was something she could control.

Pepper Potts loves to run.





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Please review. I'm new at the writing. Not new at the reading. But I know how important it is to the authors to get feedback

More chapters to come, hopefully soon…Thanks in advance.