Burger King and Extra Olives, Please

"You really ought to get back to MIT about that commencement ceremony, Mr. Stark."

Tony Stark sat on his couch, watching the television on his window as his faithful personal assistant stood behind him. A young blonde reporter spoke of a public figure's past affair with a senator, a topic that had taken all of the media's heat off of Mr. Stark for the first time in the two months since his outing— the outing of Iron Man's true identity, of course.

And, to make the news more interesting— which he found was not an easy task at all— he got smashed via a bottle of Rémy Martin.

"I will, Miss Potts," he said with a slight slur, causing the redhead to frown.

"You said that five months ago."

"And I'll say that until I talk to them—"

"—which better be tomorrow."

Tony sighed, swirling his cognac absentmindedly.

"Alright. But only because I'm too plastered to argue."

Noticing the empty bottle of incredibly expensive cognac on the small table in front of him, she frowned further and walked toward him.

"Did you go through this whole thing tonight?" She asked, picking up the empty bottle.

'There she goes again,' he thought bitterly. 'I'll never hear the end of this.'

"If you won't answer, Jarvis will." Pepper glanced at the ceiling, stomping a foot and placing her hands on her hips impatiently. "Well?"

"It seems that Mr. Stark did indeed finish the bottle of Louis XIII de Rémy Martin, Miss Potts. However, there was already a good third gone from the bottle when he began consuming its contents. I might add that I reminded him at the half-way mark that drinking in excess has been known to lead to liver remission, but Mr. Stark has obviously chosen to ignore scientific law."

"Thank you, Jarvis, and don't worry, he'll find out just how bad this sort of bingeing is in the morning."

"Must you always ruin my fun?"

"It's my job to keep you in line, and you know it..."

His assistant constantly chided him for his habits. And deep inside his inebriated mind, a small voice concurred with her. And it was the absolute truth, despite what he wanted to believe.

Pepper Potts was, by definition, a gift from the gods. She was exceedingly patient with him (for the most part.) She had a fantastic level of mental acuity that he witnessed with every passing day. She was witty, challenging and more responsible than he ever dreamed to be. And of course, Miss Potts was not exactly hard on the eyes, either.

But that sober voice chimed in once again, reminding him that this was hardly important. Out of 43 personal assistants he'd gone through over the years, she was by far the longest lasting. And that was what mattered the most to him. She was loyal.

She was not simply his employee; it went deeper than that. She was a friend, a comrade. There were very few people to whom those words applied. 'Really only three, if you count your AI,' the voice supplied again.

But he was fine with that. He always had been.

And she was his better half.

"… and I really worry about you sometimes— have you even heard a word I've said?" The incensed woman threw her hands into the air. "Tony Stark, you are absolutely incorrigible!"

"I'm sorry, Pepper."

She raised her eyebrows and for a moment, her blue eyes reflected her acceptance. But she frowned once again and shook her head. "Those words really don't symbolize anything by momentary guilt. They don't mean you'll change."

"I like drinking, though."

"You won't like it when it consumes your life!" Pepper exclaimed frantically.

He looked up at her and saw that her eyes were very, very moist. "What's wrong? Besides the obvious."

She sighed and sat beside him on the couch. "My father was an alcoholic. He died in an accident while drunk."

Tony was speechless. He supposed he never did ask about her life… her problems… But she was always so put together; the idea that someone related to her had been a drunken mess was not comprehendible.

"I don't want that to happen to you, Tony. My father was rarely home and he died when I was only ten, but it still hurts to think about him. I can't begin to imagine the pain of— well… I suppose I can…"

He knew she was alluding to the event that had set him off in the first place. The catalyst for the creation of Iron Man. He'd never thought about what she'd gone through, during that time.

"Just don't lose control. Please," she pleaded, tears streaking her cheeks.

Well, Tony Stark was good at many things. But comforting someone was not on that expansive list. And especially as hammered as he was, he really didn't know what to do. So he did what any man with an alcohol blood level of .23 would have done.

He kissed her.

And the next thing he knew, he was over his toilet, vomiting violently while Pepper Potts, ever the faithful personal assistant, stood in the doorway.

"This is what you get for… for…"

"It won't happen again, Miss Potts— ugh…" he replied as more bile reached his throat.

He could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile as she walked away, reminding him that after his eventual hangover in the morning, he needed to call MIT.

A/N: Well, there's a longer one. I generally write long one-shots, but I can't seem to do that with Iron Man. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, because I did this instead of using the time to study for the AP World History exam this Thursday. And thanks to reviewers, again!