Burger King and Extra Olives, Please
Just as he opens his mouth, Pepper holds one manicured finger up in the air.
"Don't say it."
He should have seen this coming. After all, just two years before, he'd had to come to terms with the same issue. Therefore, he knew how to combat the almost completely predictable and uncontrollable angst that would soon be spewing out of his red-haired assistant's mouth in the form of phrases like "It's just not fair" and "Damnit, I think I see a gray!"
First, he'd tell her that yes, it certainly is fair and that everyone—except those who don't make it to this point, God bless them—has to deal with it at some time or another. And then he'd point out that gray hairs aren't that awful and there is something called a hair salon that can provide a moderate amount of solace.
So, even though she warns him, he'll say it anyway.
"Happy birthday, Pepper."
Looking up from a fashion magazine, she glares at him through her reading glasses—Prada, just like he'd requested—and sighs. Or rather, it is a stressed exhalation that reminds Tony that Pepper is a woman, and women react quite differently to the Big Day than men do.
"Oh happy day," she mutters, returning her attention to the magazine article after a moment of silence.
She wants him to leave, of course. And so, like the exceptional boss he is, he sits beside her on the couch and rubs Humphrey's ear.
"It's amazing how large he's gotten over the past few months," he remarked, trying to tiptoe around the elephant lurking ever so obviously in the room.
"Amazing what aging does to an animal."
If he were Homer Simpson, Tony figures that this would have been a D'oh! moment. 'Great job, Stark. You managed to walk right into old Peanut,' he thinks with a frown. 'Time for some of that trademark damage control.'
"Hey Pepper," he starts, glancing at his PA with a smile.
"Yes?"
"Being 35 really isn't all that bad, you know."
She raises a thin brow. "Oh really?"
"I mean, you aren't even middle-aged yet! You don't have any grays as far as I can tell, and the wrinkles are minimal at worst but there are always injections for that, and I assume you're not menopausal yet, so there's nothing to—"
"Tony." She is smiling, and something in him flips around a bit. "I appreciate the effort, I really do, but I don't really need it." She sighs again—this time it is calming—and Tony actually sees the woman before him as someone with a maturity he still doesn't have. Or maybe he does, and he just can't tell.
"I just need to accept that I'm getting older, that I probably won't settle down or have children—which isn't that big of a deal, considering that I don't really like them—and that life doesn't go on forever." There is something in her eyes, something old and quiet, and for a moment, Tony feels like a child compared to this woman. "I know I've got nothing to be ashamed of, being 35 and all, but I'm quickly approaching that line between young and old… and I have to accept that."
He leans back in the couch and lets out a low whistle. Humphrey's golden ears perk, and Tony pats the cushion, inviting the dog to leap up beside him, much to Pepper's evident dismay.
"I've told you before, Mr. Stark, dogs belong on the floor."
He simply grins at the dog and as Humphrey licks his cheeks and nose, Pepper rolls her eyes. "Don't mind the grumpy old lady, boy."
Later that night, when Tony searches for something to eat in the refrigerator—and subsequently found it empty—he can't help but chuckle at the Post-It note at the back of the middle shelf.
It appears that the grumpy old lady forgot to go grocery shopping, so you can have the salad in the vegetable crisper for dinner. Damned faulty memory.
Oh well, he has put on a few extra pounds, anyway.
A/N: It's been a while, I know. I figured I'd just give you guys a little update. If anyone is still interested, anyway.