Hello, guys! I'm back from the weekend and it's time for another update! Love all the continuing love! Please keep it coming! :D

(And a little preemptive disclaimer- I don't have any issues with investment bankers, or people named Nick, or investment bankers named Nick. Mmmmkay? Tony does. In this story at least. So, ya' know. Yell at him if you've got a beef with this. ;) )

Happy reading!

To my surprise, I find Nick gazing into my eyes as well. We catch ourselves, and chuckle, embarrassed. "I hope you don't mind my saying this," he says, sheepishly. And there's that dimple, I think fondly. "But you have some of the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen," he coos. I blush and he holds up a hand in oath. "And I swear, I'm not just saying that because I would love to take you out tomorrow night. Though, if that's what it gets me, I'd..."

"Yes!" I say, interrupting him before I even have a chance to stop myself. I blush again. "I mean, yes. I would love to. If that's what you..." I say, trying to pare down my enthusiasm.

"Then, it's a date," he says, grinning. We chuckle again.

I take the ice pack off my forehead, as I don't even notice the pain any more. And I start feeling inside my pocket for my phone. "I need to give you my number, then. I'm sorry, I usually carry business cards, but I've recently changed numbers so..." I jabber. I pull out my phone, looking up at him again. "Can I text it to you?" I ask.

He nods, and rattles off his number, and I immediately send him mine. He pulls his phone out, and confirms he got the message. "So, I'm assuming you have a last name, Ginny?" he says, adding my number to his contacts.

I smile. "Potts," I say simply. "And yours?"

He smiles widely. "Green," he says.

"Green?" I purr flirtatiously. "Like...your eyes?"

"Just like my eyes," he purrs back. "Blame it on my Irish roots, I guess."

"Well, I blame this on mine," I say jokingly, pointing to my hair. Suddenly, out of the blue, my mind flashes pictures of smiling red-headed, green-eyed children with dimples in their right cheeks, and I blush for the upteenth time, secretly embarrassed at how ridiculous I'm being over this guy I just met. God, has I been this long since I've dated? I'm positively giddy!, I think to myself. He notices my break in attention, and looks at me curiously, chuckling.

I look down and bite my lips together, trying to stop grinning like an idiot. "So, um," I say, looking back up at him, furrowing my brow in concentration. "We should probably talk about..."

"About the date. Right," he says a bit awkwardly, finishing my thought. I'm glad I'm not the only one tripping over myself, I think. "How about 8 o'clock? We can meet there if you'd like?"

"Okay," I agree, smiling. "And where are we meeting, exactly?" I tease.

He smiles at me, embarrassed, and chuckles at his error. "Yeah, that's probably something you'd need to know," he jokes. We laugh. "Um, how about Benetio's? On Archer? Do you know it?" he asks.

I nod. "I know it well," I say, smiling. Tony's a fan of the place, as they serve Italian mostly, but also steak and seafood. It's a good, safe bet for a first date, but I kind of wish he would have suggested something I wasn't familiar with, just in my efforts to turn over a new leaf. But no matter. I'm just happy to have the opportunity at a social life again.

Nick smiles approvingly. "Great," he says, nodding. "Then I'll see you tomorrow night at eight."

I thank him for the ice. He winks and says, "My pleasure," with that dimpled grin of his, and my heart flutters helplessly again. We say goodbye and I turn to watch him go. He waves one last time before pulling away out of the parking lot, and I wave back, smiling.

When he's out of sight, I take a deep, satisfied breath. I can't stop grinning. And I've completely forgotten all about the reason why I went for a run in the first place.

XxXxXxXxXx

"A date?!" Tony exclaims, the next day in the shop when he notices me grinning (yes. still.) from ear to ear, and I willingly answer his very expectantly-asked question- "What's got you so bright eyed and bushy tailed?"

He looks completely flabbergasted.

I just keep grinning, feeling quite satisfied in the knowledge that it bothers him this much. "That's right! You aren't the only one who can collect a phone number or two. Though, unlike you, I use the ones I collect," I quip smugly.

He just keeps staring at me, wide-eyed and silent, ignoring the jab at his reputation. "So who is this guy, anyway?" he grumbles, his expression quickly changing to a scowl. He tosses down a wrench that he had in his hand with a loud clank that had been suspended in mid-air since I broke the news to him, and leans against the workbench, crossing his ankles and folding his arms.

I exhale sharply. "Not that it's any of your business," I say sternly. "But his name is Nick," I say, re-squaring my shoulders and smiling defiantly. I just can't help myself. "He's an investment banker in the city..." I start to explain.

"Finance. How exciting," he replies sardonically, interrupting me and rolling his eyes. "Nick, the Investment Banker," he says, mockingly with an overly-important, aristocratic air. "Tell, me. Did he ask to see your portfolio before he asked your name, by chance? Like a good little financial advisor should?" he jokes sarcastically.

I don't laugh. I just glare.

"Where're you going?" he asks abruptly, ignoring my obvious displeasure with his predicted inquisition.

"What?" I ask pointedly.

"Your date. Where are you going?" he asks again, insistently.

"Tony, I'm not..."

He starts naming restaurants. "The Ivy? Nope. Nope. Not for a first date. Rosalita's? Nope. Not classy enough. He'd be trying really hard to impress you, no doubt." Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and waggles his pointer finger at me, smirking knowingly. "Wait, I know. Benetio's, right? Am I right?" he begs.

I try desperately to mask my startled reaction to his correct guess, but it's too late. I gasp, and he grins.

"Yeah, that's it, isn't it?" he says, snidely. If he was grinning any more smugly, his cheeks would burst. "Oh, honey, I can tell you already. If he's throwing down those kinds of cards this early in the game? Pssshhh, he's a keeper. No doubt," he says condescendingly, rolling his eyes.

I look at him, lips pursed, unamused. "Tony, you like Ben..." I start to argue, but I stop myself. "No, no. I'm not doing this with you. I don't have to justify anything to you."

"You're right. You don't," he chirps, his voice syrupy with patronization.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" I huff, my hands planted firmly on my hips.

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Nothing. Nothing, Potts. Not a thing," he assures, smirking.

"Then, are you done?" I ask, my annoyance quickly morphing into anger. "And what's with the jealous boyfriend act, anyway? What's it to you if I have a date tonight?"

Tony splutters and scoffs with insult. "Pssshh, it's not anything to me, Pepper! Go do whatever you want!" he exclaims defensively, throwing a hand up with exasperation. He huffs. "I just...you..." he stammers. Then, suddenly his face alights triumphantly. "Can't-go-because-we're-leaving-this-afternoon-for-London!" he blurts out quickly, in one breath. Then he beams proudly at his sudden victorious verbal thrust and parry he's used against me, and I freeze.

My confidence instantly shatters and I deflate. "Damn it," I groan, closing my eyes, defeated.

He's still grinning, gloating. "Yeah, darn the luck, huh?" he says sarcastically, trying to fake sympathy. "I'm sorry. I really am, but you know duty calls! Business before pleasure, isn't that the expression? There really is no rest for the weary, is there?" he purrs, smirking.

I swivel around, and stomp back up stairs. "Shut up," I mutter bitterly, under my breath.

XxXxXxXxXx

I watch her tromp upstairs, and I don't break my triumphant stance until I see her go out of sight. Then I sink heavily onto the rolling work stool just beside me, and exhale slowly. Victorious though I may be, I hate doing that to her. I always feel like shit afterwards, without fail. Because, although it appears much different on the outside I'm sure,I'll be honest. A small part of me wants her to have a life outside of this place. Outside of me. She deserves to be happy, and to have a nice, quiet, normal life. It's just... these guys she finds. They're just so...I don't even know. Not right for her? I can't explain it. And I know I don't even know this Nick guy. (What kind of name is Nick anyway? Sounds like a royal douche bag, if you ask me). But I bet you I could pick him apart in two seconds if I were face to face with him. Those finance types are all the same. Money-mongers in stuffed Italian suits who think they can buy their way into anything, and in to anyone's life. Well, buddy boy. You picked the WRONG girl. Pepper's too good for you, I think to myself. Hell, she's too good for me. So, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him try to wine and dine her on my watch. I'll be damned if I sit back and watch him break her heart. Pepper's special. And I already know he doesn't deserve her.

"J?" I bark skyward. "Track down any investment bankers in the greater Los Angeles area named Nick, please! I need to get a bead on the guy Pepper's seeing tonight. Make sure she's not headed for disaster."

"Does Miss Potts know what you're doing?" he asks. "This could be considered an invasion of privacy."

I scoff defensively. "I'm doing her a favor, J. Jesus. Lighten up," I warn.

I almost detect an exasperated sigh from him, though my brain reminds me I didn't program him for those types of emotional reactions. "Very well, Sir," he says, relenting. And I instantly see JARVIS start rifling through company profiles of investment bankers from varying firms, their photos rapidly flickering on my computer screens. I see him draw out and stack the likely candidates to the right hand side of the screen, each face more smug and douchey than the last. And not surprisingly, there are quite a few investment bankers in LA named Nick. Go figure, I think, smirking. But then I scowl again, and stroke my goatee in thought. "Alright, jerkass," I mutter, watching each image of each Nick JARVIS finds as it gets stacked on the last. "Which one are you?"

XxXxXxXxX

I get to the top of the stairs, my teeth gritted, my fists clenched, and I am trembling I am so angry with Tony right now. Why must I go through this on every occasion in which I just happen to have plans that don't involve him? And why do you even tell him these things in the first place?!, my mind scolds. But I instantly know the answer. It's because I want him to know my plans when it comes to dating and men. A small part of me wants to see him squirm at the mere mention of another man in my life besides him. But what just happened down there was fierce. Beyond anything he's pulled on me before. It was vicious. And uncalled for. And I wish I knew why.

I know this probably isn't about me. None of it ever is. On any given day, Tony's mood is, at best, unpredictable. And I've learned to work around that. And not take it personally. But it was like he was trying to make it personal this time. The way he came at me about how one-dimensional and typical Nick seemed to him, that it almost made me doubt everything I'd been feeling since we met last night. What if he's right?, the voice in my head began to ask. What if I'm so desperate to move on that I didn't see reality? And Tony's version is actually accurate?

I stop seething, as the new emotions I'm feeling- defeat and depression- quickly take over. I amble over to the sofa and sit down heavily. I have a date to break. Not because I want to, but because, once again, Tony steps in the way of any semblance of normality for me, and I'm forced to. I pull up the contact list on my phone, and there he is. Nick Green. I've even got it starred, for quick reference. How convenient I've made it. Heart-break delivered that much quicker, I think regretfully. I don't suppose that Nick would be the type to understand this situation. And the excuse I'm going to be giving him could easily be construed as just a made up lie. After all, it isn't every day someone breaks a first date the morning after it's made by saying their boss is suddenly dragging them to London, and you can't reschedule because you have no idea when you're returning and he'll just have to wait for me to call. Lame. But I dial. I pray for his voice mail to pick up. But no dice.

"Miss Ginny Potts!" I hear Nick's voice say on the other line. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he says pleasantly.

I wince, biting my lips. God, why does he have to sound so nice?, I think. "Yeah, Nick, it's me. Um...about tonight..." I start to say.

"Tonight? Uh-oh..." he replies wearily. "What could I have done already?" he says, chuckling nervously.

I chuckle nervously too. It's cute that's he's concerned he's done something wrong, I have to admit. "Nothing," I assure. "It's Tony. He just let me know we're headed to London last minute, and I'm afraid that cancels out our plans. I'm really sorry," I explain. I decide I want to be the one to break it off, as lessons learned from the past have taught me guys don't generally offer a second chance at a first date when you live the unpredictable life I do. "It was really nice meeting you, though. And I hoped we could get together, but I'll understand if you..."

"Wait, wait," Nick says, stopping me. "So that's it? You're kissing me off? No chance for a redo?" he asks.

I stop talking, shocked he's even asking. "Uh, well..." I stammer. "You certainly wouldn't be the first at being frustrated by my need to..."

"What? Do your job? Ginny, look," he says. "I..." he says. I hear him sigh. "Like you. A lot, actually," he confesses sweetly.

I melt a little, and smiled bashfully, my cheeks blushing. "You do?" I ask hopefully.

"I do," he assures. "So, if it's alright with you? I'd like to make plans to see each other as soon as you get back. Deal?" he asks.

I grin. "Deal," I say, happily, my chipper mood quickly returning. I flick my eyes over to the top of the stairs leading to the shop, and smile even wider. Take THAT Tony Stark, I think triumphantly to myself. How's THAT for thrust and parry?