It's L.A., midday, in the height of summer during the second week of a heat wave and so, of course, the circuits are overloaded. Lights dim around them as the power fades out in Philippe's. A nervous young woman, farther down the communal table, shrieks in shock and one of the staff members hustles to shut off some of the lights and appliances.
Tony doesn't miss a beat as he chows down on his beef dip. "Mmmm," he manages, around a mouthful, "forget what I said about cheeseburgers, Pepper. This is bliss."
Pepper looks up from the notes she's been making and her eyes widen. "Tony," she hisses frantically. "Your tie."
"Whu?" Her boss rips off another mouthful and widens his eyes questioningly.
"Your tie," she says and gestures furtively.
Tony swallows and looks down to see his tie askew. In the darkening restaurant, a soft blue light emanates from his chest. "Oh," he says. Glancing up to see Pepper's censorious regard, he fiddles with the tie until the glow of his arc reactor is muffled.
Pepper sighs and goes back to picking at her turkey dip. "You know, this brownout wouldn't be happening if you'd gone ahead and sold that arc generator to SCE like we'd talked about."
Tony snorts as he finishes his sandwich and snags his plate of blueberry pie. "You know why I'm not gonna do that, Miss Potts. There are some things a guy can't let slide."
Pepper sighs again, more heavily, and raises a hand to pull at her collar in the still, hot air of the darkened restaurant. "I'm pretty sure that the governor didn't really mean to imply anything about Iron Man when he made that comment about not needing a super hero suit to lead the state. He was just politicking."
"Uh-huh," Tony grumbles. "Then let him sweat."