OKAY. Hello People of the Pepperony fandom. I come bearing gift. First, let me tell you that I am SO SORRY this has taken me so long to update. I promised to a few people I would explain why it took me so long so I copy/pasted an email I sent my Beta after she asked me what was taking so damn long to write this chapter back in December (I love her, she's the best):
"I'm preparing one of the most difficult exam there is in French academia (is that the word ? I'm so tired..) AKA the Agrégation (of English). Basically, I have four subjects : literature, history, translation and linguistics. I have to read and be able to write an essay on five books for the written literature exam (Roxana, As You Like It, Leaves Of Grass, My Antonia and Atonement) on anything within the five books. In History, I have to know about one specific period of British history (the 70's) and American history ( The Frontier period seen through the 1930's Hollywood movies - so fucking specific and yet, sooo broad a subject). I have to know everything there is to know about English linguistics (plus phonology) and of course, I have to be able to translate from English to French and from French to English any text that comes my way. And that's the written exams part. There's an oral exam part that you get to sit through only if you did well enough at the written exams, which, let me tell you, is A BLOODY NIGHTMARE. Oh, and most of the written exams are six or seven hours long. Because that wouldn't be fun otherwise
I won't bore you with the details of the oral part. Just that there are 4 exams to sit through, in front of a jury. Not nerve-wrecking at all.
If you don't believe me, just go on the Wikipedia article for Agrégation. They'll explain it better than me. Don't forget to take a look at the famous people who got it before me. That'll tell you how much of a masochist I am.
So, these days, I just want to die and writing is... so far from my mind. I've got the next chapter planned out though. I just can't write anything. The written exams part are the first week of March. I'll see if I can update before that but honestly, I'm swamped and the Muse is not very cooperative. I'm sorry. I swear when I started this, it was only supposed to be five chapters tops. I never meant to drag the story for so long. "
As you can see, I have survived the exams and am now waiting to see if I got enough points to be invited to the oral exam part of the Agregation. In the meantime I nudged the Muse awake and TADAAA. Here I am with a chapter. Hopefully, I'll get another one in before the results of the written exams in May. Here's to hoping.
I want to thank you all for sticking with me and this story. I appreciate your support and interest so much, it means the world to me.
Laurel K. is my amazing Beta who corrects all the awful mistakes I make because I write at night and my brain gets fuzzy between the grammar and the Americanisms I have to look out for. And she also made sure there were no incoherences in the text. Also, she's the one you have to thank for the extra fluff. Yeah, she's THAT amazing. Love ya, girl.
CHAPTER 11
Working with Tony is… a novel experience. The man simply does not stop. Ever. At first, he doesn't call that often. Just a couple of times a week. Making sure everything is fine, does she need a bigger office, and yes, he would totally be amenable to have lunch with her that Thursday, unless there's a board meeting, in which case he insists they have lunch that day. He makes a joke, she laughs, says something flirtatious, she blushes, says something outrageous to which she always replies, Goodbye, Mr. Stark. She's glad they don't work side by side. She'd never get anything done.
A month, then two, then four go by in the same manner. They have lunches and dinners. They have drinks that one week when both of them are swamped with work and can't seem to make their schedules work. At first, he flirts outrageously with her. She responds in kind, from time to time, or tells him to concentrate on the matter at hand. He always listens, and she knows he's letting her (direct ?) their relationship, whatever its nature may be. She appreciates that and she happily takes the reins.
She goes slowly and lets their friendship blossom. Sometimes, he flirts less but seems more attentive. She gets to know a quieter Tony, far from the charismatic persona of the billionaire genius he's carefully constructed over the years. Sometimes, he has her suppressing inappropriate giggles when they're out to dinner, like the last time they were at Geoffrey's and he just couldn't stop making commentaries about the couple sitting two tables over, trying to figure out if the man was the younger woman's father or her sugar daddy. He actually asked the waiter, a British man who replied that he couldn't possibly comment on such a prized customer as Mr. Peterson. One hundred dollar later, he remembered that Mrs. Peterson was, in fact, out of town. With their only daughter. Pepper burst out of laughter right there and then.
One thing he never does, however, is touch her. At first, Pepper doesn't even notice, his exuberant personality distracting her from that detail. It hits her one day when he's walking her back to her car after having lunch at a French bistro in the city centre. Her driver picks her up and Tony opens the car door for her.
The memory of the party for the re-opening of the Maria Stark Foundation comes back to her, along with the urge to kiss him. Stopping herself from doing so, she finds him looking at her the same way he looked at her last time, but he doesn't make a move toward her.
Instead, he puts the hand that is not holding the door in his pocket, a lopsided smile on his face. She puts her hand on his as she says goodbye and she feels him tremble. She gets in the car, and as she's driven away, she sees him standing beside the curb, looking unnerved. At the next meeting, she observes him carefully throughout their meal. Not a single touch, not even the lightest brush. When she goes back to the office later that day, she's unable to concentrate on anything.
Then comes the Fourth of July. A big event for Stark Industries and an even bigger one for Tony, who just loves everything that explodes, especially if he's the one pushing the big red button. He calls her a week earlier, at the office, asking about her plans.
"My plans?"
"Yes, your plans, Pepper. For the Fourth of July? Ever heard about it? It's kind of a big deal in this country. National holiday. Pretty sure the French have the same as well."
She rolls her eyes. "It's July 14th in France, Tony. And I don't know if I'm doing anything. My schedule is a bit hectic these days. I'm still settling into the new job."
"Pepper. It's our national day. SI has contracts with the military. We throw parties at all our facilities around the world on that day. There's BBQ, beer, fireworks everywhere. Even in Russia!" He says.
"You don't have an SI facility in Russia, Tony." She says.
"I'm just sayin'. If we had one there, there would totally be red, white and blue fireworks going off in Russia that day. So you have to come to my place, bring your most beautiful smile and bikini, and come have fun with the rest of us!"
"A bikini?"
"Or no bikini. Skinny dipping is fine by me too."
She hangs up shortly after that, agreeing to go to his party on the condition that she would not be forced into a swimsuit of any kind. And also that she wouldn't have to stay more than an hour if she had work to do that day. He protests at that. Apparently, Tony Stark does not approve of working on a national holiday. Of course not.
XXXX
Fourth of July rolls around and the party is… not a party.
She arrives at his mansion around lunchtime, fully expecting the place to be crawling with people, namely bikini models, Rhodey, and some people from work. She is surprised to see that not only is there no one else in the mansion, but Tony appears to be... cooking?
She steps into the kitchen area where Tony, wearing a "kiss the cook" apron, is making something smoke on top of his stove. JARVIS, diligent as ever, tries to reason with his maker:
Please, sir, be careful with the stove. I don't believe it was intended for that purpose.
"Relax, J. I've got it all under control. Hey, Potts! You're here! Wanna give me a hand with the spicy sausages?"
"Are you barbecuing in your kitchen?"
"Um... yeah. I did intend to do it on a proper grill but I forgot that it got...um...broken…"
"Broken?"
"More like set on fire uintentionally."
"Unintentionally?"
"Okay, maybe it was a bit intentional."
"How do you even set a grill on fire?"
"Too much alcohol and the misuse of a very small grenade."
"So it exploded."
"Yeah."
She shakes her head.
"Tony, where are the rest of the guests?"
He starts cutting tomatoes in slices. "How do you feel about burgers, Potts? To go with your spicy sausages hot dogs?"
Pepper feels her suspicion rising. "Tony, answer my question. Where are all the other guests? Am I too early?"
Tony doesn't look at her, continuing his motion with the tomatoes.
"No, you're right on time, as usual."
She looks at him, silently. She knows him. Something is afoot, and if he won't talk, then she won't, either. For a few minutes, only the sound of Tony occupying himself on the kitchen counter resonates around them. She can see him giving her furtive glances. She crosses her arms, giving him her knowing look. Finally, he gives up, putting the knife down.
"Okay, I give up. Please say something. Aren't you pleased? I'm personally cooking for you here. I thought you'd like that."
Pepper sighs. "Tony, you know this has nothing to do with the cooking. Why am I the only one here? I thought this was going to be one of your huge parties."
He wipes his hands on a kitchen rag and goes to her. "Okay, truth is, I was planning on having the traditional shindig with Rhodey, couple of his pals from the Air Force, some people from R&D at SI that are not complete dweebs and a barman. That, was the plan. And then I thought, maybe, I could do something else. I thought 'Pepper's coming, what is she gonna do, only talk with Rhodey and me for the rest of the day? That doesn't sound like a party.' So… that's why it's only you and me. For now. Rhodey and his pals are coming in the evening, and we'll all watch the very cool fireworks I've made for tonight. 'Cause no one does fireworks better than me. But right now, it's just you and me."
He's fidgeting as he talks. Like a four-year-old who doesn't want to admit that he's the one who drew on the walls. Pepper almost bites her lip in amusement. She really shouldn't like making him squirm. But there's something incredibly endearing in watching one of the most powerful men in America being so damn afraid of what her reaction might be. She's got a question for him, although she already suspects what the answer is.
"Tony, why do I get the impression that you're not telling me the whole truth?"
His eyes get slightly bigger. "I don't-"
"Don't lie to me, Tony. Is this a date?"
He blushes. "Um... Maybe? Or not. That's totally up to you. I don't expect anything from-"
She kisses him on the cheek, and he stops talking altogether.
"Tony Stark. You are far too idiotic for your own good, sometimes. Next time, please tell me before we meet. So I can dress in something less casual. And maybe bring some wine?"
He looks her over before replying:
"One, you look amazing, as usual, and two, Potts, you do know I've got a very-well stocked wine cellar, right?"
"Stop arguing and keep slicing the tomatoes."
"Yes, boss."
XXXX
They have a nice time. A really nice time. Really.
Then she's in the bathroom. Well, one of them, this place is a maze. There's a very large tub, a shower that looks like an alien abduction spot, a Jacuzzi she could drown in and oddly enough, a bidet. In platinum. he thinks it's platinum. Who knows? God, she's drunk. And why does she always find herself in the bathroom when she has to deal with something? Or someone? The rom-com movies she's been fed as a teen were lying. No woman gets her mojo back by going to the bathroom. They just panic. She's panicking. Also, Tony was right. His wine cellar is very well-stocked. The man has wines she knows are worth well over a hundred thousand dollars. Of course he offered to open one of them for her. A couple of hours and god-knows-how-many glasses of wine later, she's just wasted. Tony is… she's not sure how many glasses he had. Hell, she's not sure how much he needs to get drunk. The man is probably immune to wine by now. She needs a glass of water.
She goes to one of the bathroom sinks and fills up one of the glasses at her disposal. She takes a better look at herself in the mirror. Her reflection doesn't lie. She's way past tipsy. Graduation day and the back seat of Simon Caldwell's car come back to the forefront of her mind. They had skipped school (the only time she's ever skipped anything) and drove his new car to the shore. He had brought cheap beer and third-rate vodka that they had shared while making out. He'd told her he loved her and that he would do anything for her. She told him she got the full-ride scholarship for Berkeley she applied for and broke up with him. She went home on foot, and arrived three hours after her self-imposed curfew. Her mother was already out with her boyfriend of the month and had taken the remaining food money to get wasted at the local bar. She'd packed her bags that night, after the alcohol had subsided, and took the bus to California. She hasn't looked back since. Not even after her mother -
She shakes her head. Don't finish that thought. Don't you dare… She'd forgotten she was not a happy drunk. Old demons always run back to the surface when she indulges a little too much. Which is why she always makes sure she doesn't give them the opportunity to. But she slips. Every one or two years, she slips.
The lump in her throat is back. So is the weight on her ribcage. And that need to run. Run as far away as possible and shut herself somewhere no one will follow. She remembers the last time she wanted to run, when David bought a house so he could be closer to her. The house he wanted her to move into. The guilt that ate her for weeks because she couldn't find the courage – the desire – to say yes. All of this bubbles inside her and she'd let it burst but Tony is waiting for her in the living room. She cannot, she will not let it get to her. She puts cold water on her face, hoping it will bring back some semblance of level-headedness. She's still gathering the courage to get out of the bathroom when there's a knock on the door.
"Hey Pep, everything alright in there? Do you need something?"
Does she need something? Of course not. Pepper Potts doesn't need anything. At least not from anyone. She always gets what she needs herself. Right? Why would she need-
The door opens a little. Apparently she hadn't even locked it. Or JARVIS unlocked it. She's not certain.
"Pep, can I come in?"
She acquiesces but doesn't recognise her voice – is she crying?
Tony is by her side instantly.
"Pep, are you alright? I'm sorry, the wine was really strong and I forget people don't have my tolerance for this kind of stuff. I shouldn't have poured you that last glass, I-"
She takes him in her arms and it's all she needed to let the floodgates open. And she can't stop. She hates herself for this but she can't stop. Tony reciprocates the embrace and strokes her hair. He doesn't talk, doesn't try to shush her, and most importantly, doesn't let go.
The tears take some time to run dry. Her eyes get heavier and so does her body. He lifts her before she can say anything and carries her outside the bathroom. She's asleep before her head touches the pillow.
XXXX
She wakes up with a migraine. She's in bed, Tony's judging by the faint scent on the pillow. She doesn't remember getting there. She sits up too quickly and pain shoots up right to her brain. It's dark. For a minute, she can't make a lot out of her surroundings before she sees a form at the foot of the bed.
Tony.
He's staring at his tablet, utterly captivated by what he's reading and sitting in an armchair facing the bed. Facing her. Bits of memories come back to her and she groans. God, this is embarrassing. He looks up wakes up at the sound, immediately putting the tablet aside. Pepper swears internally. This is not a conversation she's going to like.
"Pep? Are you okay?"
She thinks that's not the first time he's asked her this today. She knows what he means, but she chooses to answer the question only partly:
"I could use an aspirin, if you wouldn't mind…"
He gets up immediately, giving her the glass of water and the pills that were already on the bedside table and he sits next to her on the bed.
"Always prepared, I see."
He gives her a half-smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. At least she thinks it doesn't. She can't quite make out his face. She swallows one pill and puts the bottle back in the drawer. A beat of silence. Then:
"What time is it?" she asks.
"Nine pm."
Oh, fuck.
"Oh god, Tony I'm so sorry. How long have you been there? You should go back to your party. It's-
"Not really what I care about right now. Pep, you really scared me earlier. What's going on?"
She can hear the faint sound of people and music. God, this is the last thing she wanted. And although she's flattered by his attentions towards her, she really shouldn't add her problems to his. She sighs. She's not certain what to answer him. There're so many things going on and she doesn't know if Tony can handle them. So she tries avoiding the question altogether:
"I… I don't have an answer ready for you Tony. I don't know. I'm really sorry I let myself go like that, this is the last thing I wanted. I'll get out of your hair as soon as the aspirin kicks in."
He shakes his head.
"Okay, I don't know what's going on here, but you need to cut the crap. One, you're not driving anywhere because you're not in any condition to. Two, if you think I'm letting you go before you've told me what the fuck is going on, you're seriously mistaken."
The swearing makes her sit up straighter and her barriers are immediately up.
"You can't make me stay here if I don't want to Tony. I will go whether you like it or not."
He rubs his hands on his face.
"God, no – this is not – Pepper, I don't mean it like that. Please, stay. Talk to me. I can't have you run away and shut me out."
The words come out before she can stop herself: "You mean like you did to me three years ago?"
She doesn't need a well-lit room to see the reaction on his face.
"Shit, Tony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
He exhales.
"No, no, that's fair. You're right. I've been an absolute shit to you and I shut you out and you're right. But I know that I've hated those years without you. I've never been good at the relationship stuff, or even at the friendship stuff. Ask Rhodey, he'll tell you. And it's totally my fault. I pushed you out and it took me too long to own my mistakes and start making them up to you. But I'm trying Pepper. I'm honest-to-god trying to make up for what I've done to you. Please, please, let me try and talk to me. Tell me what's going on with you. This is me trying to be a non-asshole for once in my life, by the way. I don't care about a lot of things in my life, but I do care about you.
Pepper doesn't think she could feel worse than she does right now. She knows she can't run away from her feelings forever. She might as well start to confront them now.
"I know you've been trying. These past few months have been... You've been amazing to me. You helped me with VAST. You've given me space when I needed it. You gave me a job that means something to others. A job that's basically your mother's legacy. But I guess… I guess I don't know which foot to put forward when I'm with you. Is this- Do you want us to get involved? In a long-term relationship, I mean.
He doesn't reply straightaway, and she catches her breath for a moment. She never knows when to be forward with him and when to go slow. It's probably one of the reasons that precipitated her panic attack earlier on. That and losing VAST, breaking up with David and starting a new job from scratch. She's a mess. She's a mess and she just asked one of the most emotionally guarded men she knows if he's still interested in being with her, even after she rejected him twice, on the yatch and at John's wedding.
"Pep, I've always been all in as far as you're concerned. I'm sorry I was an ass for so long and truth is, I shouldn't've shut you out. I'm fucked up and there's not much to be done here. But I'll have you in any you'll let me. And I don't just mean the sex. Not that the sex isn't great. The sex is great. I love sex. It's amazing and you're amazing at it and-
"Tony…"
"Yes, sorry, back to the point. If you can forgive the utter asshole I was, and truthfully still am to most people, well, I'd probably marry you in a heartbeat. And no, this isn't a euphemism. Although I'm totally aware that this is way to soon and we should date or at least talk before we-"
She's aware that kissing him while he's talking is incredibly rude but the man does rant when he's on a tangent. Also, it gets her point across and she has the feeling there both a bit talked out for the rest of the day. They'll have time later on to talk about things, like dating (although she's 99% certain he'd actually marry her on the spot if she insisted), but right now, she just needs him close.
As he kisses her back, his hands travel to her neck and her hip, sending shivers up her spine. She'd forgotten the effect he could have on her when touching her. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it as well. There's something utterly magnetic about him. She wishes he'd never stop.
But he does stop, and puts his forehead against her.
"Potts, you know I love it when you do that, but I'm only human and if we go on, well, this is gonna get embarrassing for one of us really quickly and I'm pretty sure neither of us is ready for that. I also want to say that I really missed that."
She laughs out of relief. She kisses him briefly on the lips, just because she can.
"You're right. And you do have a party downstairs. And fireworks to take care of."
He smiles:
"You know, I'd almost forgotten about that."
XXXX
It's a little after ten when they finally get out of the bedroom. They talked a little more but mostly la each other's company away from the party. They go out to the main balcony where they eat burgers with the rest of the guests. Rhodey greets her in an embrace and Tony starts bickering with him immediately. She watches them, bemused, before Rhodey is called over by one of his buddies from the Air Force. Tony leads her to the railing, standing next to her looking out to the ocean.
"You know, the emotional rollercoaster aside, this might actually be one of my best Fourths of July ever. And I haven't even lit one firework."
Pepper shakes her head. "Well, what are you waiting for? I was told no one does fireworks better than Tony Stark. Was I lied to?"
Tony puts a hand over his heart. "Are you doubting the superiority of my fireworks, Miss Potts?"
She laughs: "All I'm saying is that I'll believe it when I see it."
"JARVIS, launch Red White and Blue Protocol." He orders.
"With pleasure, sir."
The fireworks explode in the sky in all their glory. Truthfully, although Pepper is impressed by how many forms and colours appear above them, she only cares for one thing only. The way Tony's arms feel around her and how much she wishes he'd never let go.
XXXX
Two weeks later, Tony tells her he has to go to Afghanistan for a preview. She nods then asks:
"Do you think I could go with you?"
I'm evil. I know. REVIEWS GIVE ME LIFE AND FUEL TO WRITE PEOPLE
