It's the first time he's overslept in eight years.
He knows this because Jarvis draws the shades at seven a.m., and he is jolted from a hazy dreamworld of soft curves and long legs and sparkling blue eyes and ginger-red hair. He can still see the dark cobalt of her eyes, slightly smudged eyeliner and swollen lips. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to her, one arm swept over the curve of her hips. He wonders what it would be like to see her wake up, to see her pretty smile in the light of a sunrise, to playfully convince her to stay in bed with him. Then he wonders when was the last time that he hung around to see a woman wake up. He can't decide if it's been longer than when he last overslept.
Tony, her voice swells and then fades in a fuzzy heap as Jarvis recites the weather conditions and stock market numbers. Tony blinks at the panorama that his bedroom overlooks, soft, rolling waves off the coast of Malibu that he never has the time to enjoy because he spends so much time tinkering about in the shop. The sea and sky blend into an endless blue, and his first thought is that Pepper loves boats.
I should take her sailing, he thinks, as he extracts himself from the tangled mass of linens and flops off of his ridiculously large bed. Pepper would never go sailing with me. Maybe if I hold a gala on my yacht… He runs one hand through his longish hair and wanders to the bathroom to brush his teeth and, er, take care of some business.
One cold shower and cup of black coffee later, he's back in the shop, putting the final touches on the stealth capacity of his suit.
He's leaning in, concentrating on the mass of wires in front of him when she whispers in his ear. "Mr. Stark?"
He jumps, nearly disrupting the cappuccino she has in her hand and laughs, heavily. "Miss Potts?" He glances up at her, his brown eyes dark.
A faint pink tinges the smattering of freckles on the apples of her cheeks, but she shakes her head slightly and smiles. "I need you to sign these, they're for S.H.I.E.L.D., and then I need you to tell me when you want to reschedule that meeting with the Board and how long you think your write-up on—"
Tony smirks at her, and takes the thick sheaf of papers quickly. "Where do I sign?"
"I highlighted it, so here, and here…and here…and here…there…and there…and here…yeah, and there again…"
Tony is nodding to the tune of her voice, not bothering to point out that he can now see perfectly well where she's highlighted.
"And here, and here…and…well, you get the point."
Pepper picks up the papers as he finishes signing the last one and clicks toward the door on her heels. Tony can't help watching her appreciatively as she makes small steps in those ridiculous—but extraordinarily sexy—shoes.
"Hey, Pepper?"
"Yes, Mr. Stark?" She pivots expertly and cocks her head so her bangs fall slightly in her eyes.
"You look tired. Maybe we should take a break this afternoon, go out for a—"
"I look tired?" Pepper's hand flies up to her face, smoothing her fingers across the area under her eye as if trying to remember how she did her make-up this morning.
"No, I meant, why don't we go out this afternoon. On my yacht."
"Oh, I don't think that would be a…good idea."
"Really?"
"Really."
Tony smiles as charmingly as he can, "C'mon, Pepperrrrrr…you work too much."
"That's because I'm working for the both of us."
"Now that's not fair. I've been working on this all morning. Do you wanna see?"
"Oh, no, no Tony, I have to get back upstairs."
He floats his fingers over his keyboard and the suit flickers into black.
Pepper gapes. "What's that?" She clicks back over to him, and peers at the suit. One of her hands gently reaches out to touch it.
"No!"
She recoils, and looks at him.
"No, I mean, it's not ready yet. A couple more hours and I'll be done. Just some rewiring…but don't touch it, you might get electrocuted."
"That's reassuring."
"Anyway, a couple hours and then we can go out?" He puts on his best puppy-dog face and she nearly laughs.
"I'm sorry, Tony, no. Anyway, you have a meeting with Rhodes. He said he has someone he wants you to meet."
"Rhodey! Wow, I forgot about that. Hmm. A lady friend, perhaps?" A self-satisfied smirk spreads over his lips.
Pepper is amazed at how quickly the mind of Tony Stark switches tracks, but at least he's stopped hounding her about inappropriate outings upon which she's not so sure how her excellent self-restraint would work. "I don't think so," she says, traitorously pleased as the smirk drops from his face, "But he didn't say."
With that, she turns and walks away, stepping carefully through the still-broken glass and up the steps.
He turns back to the suit and pulls on the wire he had been concentrating on earlier.
Zzzt! He yanks his hand away as it electrocutes him. He glances quickly at the arc reactor in his chest, which is still glowing steadily, and back at the wires in confusion.
"Jarvis, pull up an exploded view of this for me."
He watches as the screen to his right lights up with blue-outlined diagrams. "Oh," he mutters, and tugs on the blue wire. It comes away easily.
"Sir, if I may, you don't seem very focused this morning."
"Don't, Jarvis." Tony mutters, twisting the wire in his fingers around a light green one and pushing it into a back socket. Pepper's long legs in stilettos run briefly through his mind and he wonders where that thought came from.
Zzzzt!
"AGH!" Tony pulls back, and pale smoke fluffs from the suit. "Don't start," he mutters, more to himself than to Jarvis, "I give up for now."
He wipes his hands on his jeans and decides to throw on a nice shirt for Rhodey and his mystery guest.
Colonel James Rhodes is waiting for Anthony Stark.
For about the 5,463rd time in his life—and he's not surprised. He's sitting on a wooden bench on the bright lawn of Stark Industries, sweaty Malibu sun dripping down on him. A sleek silver Audi pulls up at the speed of light, stopping on a dime. Rhodes squints in the bright light.
"How is it that you never get a ticket?"
Tony smirks at his friend, "Too many female traffic cops in these here parts."
"Oh, really, Tony. Really?"
"No, I actually drive at exactly five miles above the speed limit. I'm a safe driver, Rhodey."
"Sure you are."
"I am!"
Rhodes glances sideways at his friend as they walk into the building, "Tell that to the hole in your ceiling."
"That had nothing to do with driving! It was parking. What can I say, I was raised on valets." Tony winks and Rhodes rolls his eyes.
"Well," Rhodes begins as they enter one of the conference rooms, "I don't have a lot of time. And I know you're 'not manufacturing weapons anymore,'—"
"Did you just make air-quotes? Air-quotes, Jim?"
"Focus, Tony, focus! Stark Industries is still actively involved in U.S. military defense equipment and technology development, so I—"
"Are you explaining to me what my company does? Because I know what my company does."
"Tony, would you just listen? I'm sticking to the cards because I've got an appointment in ten minutes, okay? Okay. Where was I—oh, well the point is we've been losing contact with a lot of U.S. defense technology in the East Pacific. Do you know anything about this?"
"Why would I know anything about that? That sounds like terrorist—oh."
"Well, I was just wondering if you could—I mean, it would save a lot of—"
"Yeah, I see how it is. You're just using me for my suit. I thought we were more than that, Colonel!"
"Tony."
"Yeah, I can check it out. Is this vitally important? Is this why you called a meeting?"
"It's not vitally important, no. And it's not why I called a meeting. This isn't even really a meeting, is it." Rhodes glances at Tony, who is sitting on the conference table. "I'm no longer going to be chief liaison to Stark Industries, so I wanted to introduce you to the guy who is."
Rhodes nods at the door and a tall, blonde man steps in.
"How did you do that?" Tony mutters as he cranes his neck around to look at this intruder, "This is my building, isn't it? How do you just get large military men to lurk about and come into rooms at your beck and call?"
Rhodes rolls his eyes. Tony hops off the conference table and sizes up the stranger, "Anthony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries." He sticks out his hand and the stranger takes it.
"Steve Rogers. It's an honor, sir."