The shareholder's dinner is a massive affair, taking up the main floor of the Manchester hotel. There are champagne fountains, ice sculptures, celebrities and soft jazz.
Tony, of course, is bored out of his mind. Dinners like this rarely promote good conversation, and he usually compensated for that by provoking his fellow guests with outrageous behavior. In years past, his trio of handlers: Obadiah, Rhodey and Pepper all tried to keep him in line and succeeded enough of the time to make his rebellious outbursts more quirky than rude.
But with Obadiah gone, and Pepper off for the night, it's all on Rhodey's broad shoulders, and he's deeply wary because Tony is . . . behaving.
Oh sure he's scribbling on the tablecloth; drawing the framework of a building apparently, his Cross pen etching delicate lines across the linen as the thing takes shape. Rhodey glances at it, wondering what the hell it is, so he asks.
"A little project I've got in mind. It's going to cost us the basketball court though," Tony replies absently.
"You're kidding. The court? Man, the court is sweet, Tony. I *love* that court!" comes the frustrated little whine. "Whatever the hell this thing is, can't you build it somewhere *else* on your property? It's not as if you're hurting for land out there on that estate of yours."
"I *could,* yeah, but that would put it out of walking distance, and the natural depression is perfect for this."
"Yeah, well I'm naturally depressed at the thought of losing the only place I can beat your sorry ass one on one," Rhodey grumbles.
Tony looks up, his glance challenging. "Want me to rent out the Staples Center and give you the curb stomping you are so richly asking for?"
The colonel shoots a sidelong glance at Tony, torn between nodding and laughing. "You bringing a ladder, too?"
"Hey, hey, no playing the heighth card," Tony snaps back. "It's all about skill, anyway."
"Yeah, vertical skill. So what the hell *is* this thing of yours anyway? I didn't think you were into architecture."
A woman passes by the table, her glittering dress low-cut, her teeth a dazzling white. She winks at them both and glides away so they can both enjoy the beguiling sway of her ass. Rhodey gives a little strangled sigh, his gaze happily following her. "Okay, now I'm thinking more about horizontal skills."
"Definitely," Tony murmurs in agreement. "Puts shooting and scoring in a much more interesting perspective."
"Yeah. In fact, I think I'll go on a little . . . recruiting drive." Excusing himself, Rhodey rises, following after the woman with ever-quickening steps. Tony watches him go with relief, and turns back to his sketch, adding a few notes alongside it. Satisfied, he fishes in his pocket for the microlaser and neatly cuts the square of linen with the blueprint on it, then rolls the cloth up and stuffs it into his breast pocket.
Tony casually pulls his plate of uneaten chicken Kiev over the hole on the tablecloth and gets up from his place. He's nearly to the door when his pager goes off, vibrating against his thigh. Searching across the room he notes Rhodey, looking startled, and guesses the colonel just got the same tingle. A quick exchange of knowing nods, and Tony is off, glad to be out and away, already calling for the car.
000ooo000ooo000
It's now the third day, and Tony isn't back yet. Pepper is doing her best to stay calm and reassuring to everyone who normally has to deal with Mr. Stark, but her own anxiety is mounting hourly now. She's as close to panic as she ever lets herself get, and works part of it off with work, the treadmill and more work. Jarvis has been relaying Tony's whereabouts via satellite, but since the first day the Suit's 'com link has been down, and Tony's been communicating with Jarvis by tapping Morse code against his armor.
This is the part of life now with Tony Stark that Pepper hates, and she feels guilty for it, because whatever he's doing is for the benefit of *someone* out there. Before, it was easier to get angry because Tony was simply being an idiot at his own expense. Now, when he comes home banged up and bleeding, she can't get angry about it.
Not that Pepper ever really *shows* her anger to Tony, not even before. She'd always managed to keep her professionalism up, even when her heart bled a little at his reckless ways. He'd been restless, and lost for a lot of his life, a man looking for a purpose in life, and not finding it, not until Afghanistan.
That doesn't stop her from battling her own demons though, particularly the fear that he's dead, or about to be dead, or already dead. Pepper is aware that she *has* to accept this as a component of the deal in loving Tony Stark, relationship or not. Tony is the only one who can do what he does, and he's going to keep doing it, with or without her support.
So she supports him.
At four fifteen on Friday afternoon, Jarvis announces that Tony is two hundred miles out and ETA is eight minutes. Pepper, dressed in sweats and a tee-shirt, wearily makes her way down to the garage, ready to call Granger if need be, and more tired than she's been in a long time. Waiting is as stressful as doing anything else, although not many people seem to realize that, she acknowledges to herself.
Tony arrives, and the Suit is . . . disgusting. It's covered with sludge of some sort, and from the smell of it, probably toxic. Pepper fights the urge to hold her nose and waits until the disassembly units have unlocked and hauled away all the parts before she darts in to support Tony.
He doesn't smell much better as three days of sweat, dirt and blood rise off of him. Tony holds out a hand to stop Pepper's forward momentum. "Whoa; I've had a massive deodorant failure, okay?"
"Yep," she agrees, giving him a crooked grin.
Tony is exhausted; she can see it in the stress lines around his eyes and the stiff way he limps away from the center of the garage. He peels at the velcro fasteners for the liner, talking over the ripping sounds. "Day one, ended up in a fight over some toxic dump just inside the Iraqi border, and I can't tell you what was *in* that sludge, but three hours after falling in it, the crap shorted out some of the Suit circuitry. I think it must have had some sort of magnetic field, and the prolonged exposure to the surface of the Suit combined with static set up just enough of a disruption to cut off communications . . ."
He's still talking, climbing up the stairs like an old man, hand along the wall to steady himself. Pepper follows, listening, her relief deep and full at the sound of his voice.
In the bathroom Tony has Butterfingers carry off the liner and once he's showered and in sweat pants, Pepper steps in, first aid kit in hand. She dabs antiseptic on the cut along his ear, and again at his cheekbone, glad to be close to him; to feel the warm damp heat of him.
Tony can barely keep his eyes open. "Three days . . . that's seriously screwed Jarvis's timeline up, huh?"
"Unavoidable," Pepper points out, letting her touch linger a bit along the side of his face. He turns it, lips brushing the palm of her hand, mustache wet and bristly.
"Pain in the ass," he mumbles, eyes closed, and Pepper isn't sure if he means Jarvis, the timeline, the circumstances, or possibly himself. He manages a smile though, and slumps, his rump against the counter. "I guess this means we've got some catching up to do."
"Oh sure," Pepper teases, ever so gently. "I can see you're all raring to go for an evening out on the town. Tony, you can barely stand up. I think you need to go to bed, stud."
That last slips out before she can help herself; Pepper has never called him that before, although she's labeled him that more than once, in her own head. It used to be with annoyance and sarcasm as she dealt with some woman-related mess he'd left behind.
Now though, it's soft, and with a sense of affection. Almost an endearment.
Tony opens one eye, suddenly alert. "Oooooh say that again. Please."
"Tony—"
"Not that part. The *other* thing," he cajoles her, opening both eyes, and moving forward, herding her against the towel rack, his hands sliding up her arms. "Pe-pper—"
And because she's so grateful that he's alive and here, moving in to breathe in her ear, his smile as warm as his breath, she sighs and gives in, a smirk on her face. "Stud."
"Yessss---" comes his joyful little crow. "You *know* it, Potts. Mooooove over, Clarence, because there's a *new* alpha male in town--"
Pepper fights off a giggle, embarrassed that she, a grown woman with a Master's in Business Management is actually squirming as Tony kisses that ticklish place under her ear again, making her hips wriggle. "Tonyyyyyy!"
"Busy," he mutters, his hands moving from her arms down and around her hips. Pepper *knows* where his hands are headed, and she manages to slip free of his encircling arms, ducking out under one of them and moving behind the man, her own arms going around his torso. He glares over his shoulder at her, and Pepper realizes he needs a haircut, since his bangs are in his eyes. "Hey!"
"Are you hungry?" Pepper asks, her voice soft. Tony blinks, and nods, turning, his mood shifting to something more serious.
He yawns. "Yeah, but I'm going to crash pretty quick here, so maybe just a few cans of protein shake for now."
She nods.
When Pepper brings them back, he's already in bed, sitting up against the headboard and struggling to stay awake. The two cans of chocolate raspberry glug into him as Tony drinks them noisily. Pepper gives him water to wash it down and rinse his mouth, and makes him settle down under the covers. Tony grumbles, and catches her thin wrist in his hand.
"Potts, you're as tired as I am. Lie down."
"I will," she assures him, but he shakes his head.
"Here."
"Tony--"
"I just saved the major part of an army battalion, fell into the cesspool from hell *and* had to remember Morse code from my scouting days. Frankly, I don't want to wake up alone," he murmurs quietly. "Word of honor, I'm not going to jump you or anything like that. Hell, I haven't got the energy, Pepper. I just . . . I missed you. And I missed all those scheduled interactions."
She hesitates, hearing the hint of yearning in Tony's voice. Nine months ago, she would have smiled, patted his arm and walked away. Now, Pepper pauses a beat, then slips her shoes off, and walks around the bed, sliding onto the mattress next to him. She stretches out, feeling all her tension begin to relax. He makes a happy sound and scoots back until his spine is up against her hip. "Niiiiice."
"Shhhh," Pepper tells him, smiling. "Jarvis, lights off and set the alarm for ten; soft chimes please."
"Tomorrow's Saturday; we're allowed to sleep in," Tony mumbles, already drifting away as the room darkens.
They sleep.
000ooo000ooo000
Tony wakes up, grumpily. He hurts, and he doesn't really want to move, but his bladder is snidely telling him he has to. It's only as he tries to roll over in the direction of the bathroom that he realizes someone's arm is around his hip. Carefully he peeks over and the warm, happy jolt at seeing Pepper sprawled out under the coverlet makes him grin.
A sprawler; who would have guessed? He muses to himself, and reluctantly eases free of her touch. Tony doesn't want to wake her. At least, not yet. Moving quietly, and keeping his whimpers to himself, he makes his way into the bathroom and attends to his needs quickly, then hobbles back and slides into the warm haven.
Pepper murmurs and shifts, arms moving restlessly. Tony holds his breath, waiting for her to settle back into sleep, and then watches her in the soft light of early morning, feeling ridiculously happy to have this chance. He knows Pepper's face; it's one of the dearest sights to him, but Tony has rarely had the opportunity to see her asleep.
She's pretty; he's always known that, but in sleep there's a peacefulness to her face that makes Pepper seem younger, softer. This close, Tony can see how long her eyelashes really are, and the way her lips part a bit. One of her hands is up next to her face, curled slightly, and that soft strawberry hair of hers is across the pillow.
Softly, under his breath and with tenderness, Tony whispers. "Dit, dit, space, dit dah dit dit, space, dah, dah dah, space, dit, dit, dit, dah, space, dit, space, dah, dit, dah, dah, space, dah, dah, dah, space, dit, dit, dah."
Pepper stirs again, and her lashes flutter. She opens them, a little disoriented, and turns to see Tony watching her, his head propped up on one hand.
She smiles, and the rush of feeling through Tony is a curling wave of mingled emotions, churning and blending in sweet intensity. Desire, certainly, but also comfort, relief, joy, delight, astonishment.
So damned lucky-- is all Tony can think for a blinded moment.
Pepper laughs. "You look like someone goosed you."
"That . . . would be accurate. You look gorgeous," he replies intently, "how do you do that?"
Pepper shifts her gaze, her face warmer now, and rolls over, mirroring Tony's position so they're face to face. "Newsflash, Mr. Stark. I'm *not* gorgeous, I'm just relaxed. I know you don't often see me that way, but it happens once you get back safely from your missions."
He says nothing. There isn't a chide in those words, but the hint of pain is enough, and Tony sighs.
Pepper reaches out her free hand and lightly touches his arc implant, feeling the warmth of it, then lets her touch slide off the flat surface, and under it, touching skin now. Tony's eyelids flutter a little and he looks down at her fingers. "You're . . . touching me."
"It's a relationship; I get to do that," Pepper points out with a smirk, her tangled curls spilling over her shoulder. "You're warm."
"I won't be, if Jarvis---" he looks up at the ceiling vent, wary. "Hey, why didn't he, um, protest about last night?"
"Because after the second day, I told him that when you got back, we were entitled to at least ten hours of free time," Pepper murmurs, fingers still touching him. She scoots closer, and Tony likes that.
A lot.
"Nice," he approves, both of the move and the arrangement with Jarvis. "So this is the late in the weekend physical stuff he mentioned?"
Pepper is now tummy to tummy with him, and even though they're both clothed, it's a nice sensation.
"Mmm hmmmm."
"All right. So---" Tony fumbles a bit; a new experience for him. "—exactly how far do we get to, ah, go?"
Pepper rolls back and looks at him, her eyes serious for a moment. "Tony, I don't want to . . . get to ahead of things."
"Me either," he admits, a little surprised to realize it. This is one relationship he's in no rush to consummate, despite the surge of interest moving through his body at the moment. The pleasure of simply having Pepper *here* warm and snug next to him is good.
Tony realizes in a fit of hindsight that he never cuddled any of his sex partners in the past, and suddenly understands why.
Cuddling would have meant a relationship, not a one-night stand.
He pulls Pepper closer. "I'm cold," Tony lies, and buries his face against her shoulder, blinking against a quick sting in his eyes. She gently strokes his head, not saying anything for a long while.
000ooo000ooo000
The second time they wake up is to the sound of chimes; Jarvis announces the hour with far too much smugness for an inanimate personality. Pepper gives a little resigned sigh and begins to untangle herself from Tony.
He's nearly off the edge of the mattress and when she asks him why, he arches an eyebrow at her. "It seems that *some*one around here is a bedhog. Now I'm not naming names, but given that there are only two people on this mattress . . . I trust the dots are connected?"
"I do *not* sprawl," Pepper blushes, pulling her arms and legs in and trying to look dignified. This is difficult with her hair in tangles around her face and her teeshirt twisted halfway up her torso. "I . . . stretch out."
"Oh is *that* what you call it?" Tony accuses solemnly. "The arms and legs claiming as much territory as possible? If this was a game of Risk, you'd have the map, Potts."
"I like to be comfortable," Pepper argues back. "It's not a crime."
"No, but you'd better be prepared to defend your claims—" Tony announces and lunges for her. They wrestle across the mattress amid some bouncing and squealing, mostly on Pepper's part since she's on the bottom and still slightly sleepy. She gets a hand in along Tony's sculpted ribs though, and digs, tickling hard. He wheezes, arching that side protectively and flopping away from her, new respect in his warm gaze. "Whoa. You have evil Ninja fighting skills."
"Many," Pepper warns him, and then smiles. He leans over her and tugs her tee-shirt up, exposing her stomach. She tenses, but doesn't stop him, because his look is gentle; almost tender.
"Scar's healing," he observes, touching the pink line along the inside rim of her small navel.
Pepper glances down and shivers at his warm finger tracing it. "Yep."
"You know, this is like, the most *innie* innie I've ever seen, woman. It's like world's the tiniest black hole . . ."
"Hey!" Pepper protests. She's self-conscious enough about her pale stomach without any snide commentary, and tries to tug her shirt down again, but Tony moves more quickly than she does and proceeds to blow a lovely raspberry against her tummy.
Pepper squeals. The combination of his beard and mustache are tortourous enough, but the added sensation of his warm wet mouth is enough to send waves of chill and heat through her body, jolting it up into a new level of awareness. She feels the rush of dampness between her legs along with the pang of deep desire.
So much. Almost too much. The scent of his skin, the flash of his smile; being here, safe and warm in bed—it's all overwhelmingly good, and when Pepper sees his face, she realizes it's dawning on Tony as well.
She pulls him down to her, savoring the warm heavy weight of his body on hers, the solid feel of it resting on her own. Pepper kisses him, entwining herself around Tony; holding him so tightly and fiercely that he groans into her mouth. Breaking for a gasping breath, he chuffs, "God, yessss---"
The top edge of the mattress begins to rise, swiftly, changing the plane of the bed from horizontal to a forty-five degree angle and suddenly the two of them are rolling, sliding in a blanket-tangled heap on the bedroom carpet. Jarvis speaks. "I regret interrupting you both, but the ten hour window is now past and there are two visitors at the front door."
"Visitors?" Pepper questions, blushing a bit as she rises and brushes down her tee shirt. Tony is grumbling and whimpering a little as he slowly pulls himself up from the carpet. The mattress lowers back to its original position.
"Two gentlemen from DeMilano Contractors, in regards to the deconstruction of the basketball court," Jarvis announces.
Tony brightens. "Good. I'll go talk to them, and then we can go out for breakfast since it's probably going to be noisy around here today. Jarvis, espresso?"
"Already brewed."
"That almost makes up for the bedslide," Tony runs his hands through his messy hair. "*Almost.*" he adds darkly, pointing a vaguely threatening finger in the direction of the ceiliing.
"I am so relieved," Jarvis replies, with the perfect hint of sarcasm. Pepper laughs to herself and goes off to the guestroom to shower and change.
000ooo000ooo000
Tony, Pepper learns, has never been to Waffle World.
This is something she's delighted to correct, and when they arrive at the restaurant, he's looking around intently, taking it all in as he pockets his sunglasses. "What makes this place better than IHOP?" comes his sceptical question.
Pepper waits until they've been ushered to a booth and handed the laminated menus. With a flourish, she folds hers back and points to a photo while giving a happy little sigh. "This."
"That's . . . breakfast porn," Tony observes, studying the picture of a enormous, perfectly grilled waffle with melting butter and golden syrup glistening on it. "Utterly gratuitous, steamy batter-poured porn. Damn, I'm hungry."
"Exactly," Pepper replies. "They're huge and delicious and before you say it, *no,* not like you, Tony."
Across from her, Tony sulks for a microsecond, annoyed to have a good line snatched from him, but when the waitress comes over, a chubby girl who smiles warmly in their direction, he perks up.
"Pepper! Long time no eat, girlfriend! I already know what *you're* ordering! What can I get for your date?"
Tony waggles his eyebrows at Pepper, who fights her embarrassment by lightly kicking him under the table. "I think he'll have the same."
The waitress, whose name tag reads Genesis, looks to Tony, who nods. She winks at him and scribbles on the pad. "Coffee? OJ?"
"Coffee," Tony ventures cheerfully, "Thanks."
The girl nods, her long blue hair swinging. "So, you finally get a Saturday off from that draconian boss of yours? That's my vocabulary word of the day, dig it, dracooooonian. Cool, huh? Totally fits with some of those horror stories you told me about Mr. Stark."
"Gen," Pepper is red-faced now, but Tony has a glint in his eye as he cocks his head and looks up at the waitress.
"Oh yeah, he's a total tyrant; a real puppy-kicker. Hey, you know, we lied and told him we were going to the office today, so please don't rat us out, okay?"
"Lips are like, totally sealed," Genesis burbles, collecting the menus. "You can hang out and work on your breakfast in complete security, guys; Waffle World never gives up good patrons. I'll be back with the java," she adds, bouncing away.
Pepper has her face hidden by one hand; Tony is leaning back against the dark green leather booth back, his gaze boring a hole through her meager shielding. "Draconian, hmmmmm?"
"*She* said it, not me," Pepper hisses back, on the defensive now. "I am not responsible for her Word-of-the-Day calendar!"
"Horror stories, Potts? Have I been such a beast that tales of my infamy are common fodder at Waffle World?"
"Tony," Pepper sighs, "I can be diplomatic or I can be honest, and neither one of them is going to sound good on an empty stomach. Give me a break."
He laughs.
Watching Tony dig into his Waffle World Big Bite Delight, Pepper feels a sense of satisfaction. Generally feeding Tony is a hit or miss proposition; he either forgets to eat for hours, days at a time, or when he *does* eat, it's generally whatever is in the house or whatever he thinks to order in.
Nutrition is hardly his watchword, and yet she remembers the way he downed her green beans; how Tony more often than not lately is willing to eat what she picks for him. She props her elbow on the table, cups her chin in her hand and squints, trying to peel back the years and imagine Tony Stark as a baby in a high chair.
He would have been adorable, Pepper acknowledges to herself. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes over chubby cheeks, a killer little pout to his baby lips . . .
"Oops," Tony mumbles, accidentally knocking over the syrup carafe. Pepper catches it before it tips on the table, righting it gently.
. . . and just as absent-minded. She smirks, and goes back to her own waffle.
Tony looks at her. "What?"
"Just . . . never mind; it's too silly," Pepper shakes her head and focuses on cutting dainty bites.
He blinks a little, his long eyelashes fluttering. "You think I'm a mannerless slob determined to douse you in syrup. 'fess up."
"No, just wondering what you looked like as a toddler."
An eyebrow arches up at that; Tony stares at her long enough to make her feel *extremely* self-conscious. "Un-huh."
"I was," Pepper shrugs. "Although I had trouble with the baby face having a lil' tiny goatee."
Tony pauses, staring at her again. "Is there something hallucinogenic in your waffle, Potts?"
"Nope," she replied cheerfully, and begins to eat, hiding her grin.
When it's time to pay, Tony hands the waitress his credit card; she returns, wide-eyed and clearly terrified. "," Genesis squeaks, her chubby face pale under her electric blue hair. He signs the sales slip and the receipt, then looks up at her, his expression neutral, but Pepper sees the twinkle in his eyes.
"You know, if you put that receipt on Ebay, my autograph is up to three hundred and fifty bucks now. And considering it's my first time at Waffle World—you could get probably double that. Just sayin'."
Genesis looks down at the receipt he's handing her and blinks; her face lights up. "OhmyGOD!"
"Consider it a reasonable tip from the king of draconian customers," Tony adds, rising from the booth and waiting for Pepper to follow him. She gives Gen a wink and a nod, then steps to Tony's side and they head out of the restaurant to the parking lot.
They settle into the car, and Pepper shoots a look at Tony. "Thank you. For the breakfast, and for being good to Genesis."
Tony sighs. "It was a great waffle. Make a note: I need to buy the corporation."