Once again, these characters aren't mine. I just enjoy taking them out and playing with them once in a while.
Thank you for the kind words of encouragement! I do hope you all enjoy this!
He arrived a little later than planned, but Pepper was waiting for him as promised. She'd offered to pick him up at the airport, and he'd accepted.
Their other visits were quietly formal affairs, him renting a car, staying in a hotel, sharing a meal or two, trying to figure out something to say when she showed him the nursery she'd set up in her condo. Tony had accompanied her on two doctor's visits; in the first, he'd heard the baby's heartbeat and had fidgeted in the waiting room in the midst of about twenty pregnant women while Pepper got her check-up. She said he was nuts to fly from Malibu to San Francisco to sit in a waiting room for an hour while she was poked and prodded, but he felt it was the least he could do. By the second visit, he had paid her OB a hefty sum to begin making housecalls. The visits were conducted in Pepper's condo, the doctor bringing any equipment that she needed along with her. On the second visit, he had actually gotten to see the baby on the 3-D ultrasound. It was an amazing, humbling experience, and he was more than grateful that Pepper had allowed him to be there. The technician her doctor had brought along was a sweet, southern, older woman Tony just knew was a grandmother ten times over. Her heartfelt proclamation, "Look at those cheeks Mom and Dad! And that sweet little chin…looks like his Daddy," had literally made his heart swell with a pride he didn't know he was capable of feeling. "And it is definitely a boy…a well-endowed one at that!" This comment had elicited a smirk from Pepper and an under the breath comment, "He gets that from his dad too," which left Tony oddly embarrassed and pleased at the same time.
The memories quickly faded as he was exiting his plane and walking down to the tarmac. He scanned the area for Pepper, but was stopped by a man he didn't recognize, one who obviously recognized him. "Tony?" the man questioned. For about two seconds time stopped, and he felt his entire world being jerked out from underneath him. "Pepper is fine, but she's sick, and wasn't in a position to pick you up. I'll give you a ride to her place."
"She's okay?" Tony asked.
"Yes," the young man answered, and started to say more, but Tony held up his hand. Just a minute, he thought, I'm trying to figure out whether or not I'm having a heart attack. "My name is Mike Andrews," the man smiled, offering his hand. Tony didn't shake it, but followed Mike toward his waiting car.
Tony tried to remain calm, but he had to ask again, "Pepper, she's all right, just sick?"
The other man frowned, "She's been really sick lately, like she was in the beginning. To be honest, we've been worried - all of us at work - about her. She pushes herself too hard."
"That's Pepper," Tony said absently, wondering who 'we' was. It bothered him that these other nameless, faceless people knew more about Pepper's routine and condition than he did.
As they made their way into the car, Tony stowed his bags in the space provided, and climbed into the front. The shrill ring of a cell phone startled Tony, a hand went to the inside pocket of his jacket, but then he remembered that Jarvis would have alerted him had he had an important message.
Mike answered his phone, "Andrews," he said. "Oh, hey," and his tone changed, the lilt softening once he recognized the voice on the other end. Tony checked for a wedding ring, but there wasn't one. Studying his body language, Tony noticed the way Mike angled away from him just slightly. He hated his long dark ponytail (Really? A ponytail? What a douche.), the way the muscles in his face relaxed until there was the hint of a smile, and the way he spoke in the hushed tones of someone sharing secrets. "Are you okay?" Mike ran a hand through his ridiculous hair, a worry line standing out prominently on his forehead. "Pepper," he said, and that caught Tony's attention; he was speaking too intimately into his phone to be talking to Pepper, wasn't he? "How long have you been there?" A pause, and then Mike closed his eyes. "Are you all right?"
Tony interrupted, "Is everything okay?" he questioned.
Mike nodded and held up his hand, 'Just a minute,' he mouthed. "I just picked him up. We're on our way now, we can be there in less than an hour." Another pause and Tony could hear an indistinct voice, but couldn't make out what was being said. "No, we'll meet you there, you shouldn't be driving."
Another pause and then, "It's not up for discussion, Potts, we'll be there soon, and then you can argue all you like. Yes, I know, yes I know you could kick my ass…Listen, Pepper, we'll pick you up, just sit tight, okay. Yes, I'll tell him. Bye." Flipping the phone shut, Mike took a deep breath. "That was Pepper, she's fine and the baby's fine, but she's at the hospital. She was so sick, she couldn't stop throwing up, so she drove herself to the hospital and they had to give her a shot," he explained. "She wanted me to tell you not to worry."
"She's in the hospital?" Tony was alarmed, he didn't think conditions like placenta previa and trips to the hospital were considered routine in pregnancy.
"Yes, but her doctor has already been by to see her, and the shot knocked out the nausea, so she's free to go. Apparently, she was at the hospital when she called earlier, but didn't want to tell me because she didn't want me to worry, or to worry you, but she wasn't released in time to make it home, so she had to come clean."
"How long will it take us to get there?" Tony asked.
Mentally calculating the miles, and figuring they'd missed most of rush hour traffic, Mike looked at his watch, "We'll probably be there by 8:30."
Because there was nothing he could do, Tony changed the subject, not wanting to think about Pepper lying in a hospital room alone. "How do you know Pepper?" he asked.
"We work together at the University. Same department. We work…closely," Mike answered.
"Pepper and I, we've been friends for a long time, I was her boss in –"
Mike interrupted him, the ease and affability he exuded upon first meeting Tony vanished, his voice was flat and accusing, "I know who you are," he said, clipping his phone on his belt.
The rest of the ride was silent, and Mike beat Tony in asking the nurse where Pepper was, and Mike was two steps ahead of him once they finally rounded the hallway to her room.
There was something supremely satisfying about being able to show Mike Andrews the door. At the hospital, Tony had been squeezed out of the equation. Mike Andrews had hovered over Pepper while Tony spoke to her doctor. Normally a woman wasn't this sick during her pregnancy, the obstetrician informed him, but at the same time, it wasn't life threatening. Pepper and the baby would be fine. Per doctor's orders, Pepper needed to take it easy, work less, and make sure she didn't get dehydrated.
When he'd finally been able to see her, Tony and Pepper exchanged sidelong glances, neither being able to fully look at the other. The only thing he'd said to her was that he was glad she and the baby were all right. Tony drove her home in her car, but Mike followed. They shared a history, a baby, and a partial future tied forever together by a child, but they were in-between; together they fit nowhere and weren't easily defined.
In Malibu, before falling asleep, Tony would lie on his back and close his eyes, imagining how hard it must be for Pepper to be pregnant and alone. Mike Andrews was a rude awakening; Pepper was not alone. She had people who cared about her in San Francisco, people with whom she shared a life; Tony was the outsider.
Mike hugged Pepper, and then made his way to the front door. "Goodbye Mike, thank you for your help," Tony said with a casualness he didn't feel. The other man tipped his head and left; Tony sighed in relief. What a prick. Pony-tailed, arrogant, unwelcome, flip phone prick.
Pepper was reclined on the couch, her head felt like it was filled with rocks, so heavy; it was the effects of the drugs, the way she was tired, unnaturally so, a distance to everything, her senses off-kilter, contorted and stretched and not easily reachable.
"Do you need anything?" Tony asked.
"No," she answered. "Water," she amended.
Tony moved through her home making his way toward the kitchen; it was a bigger place than she'd had in Malibu; two bedrooms, a nice sized living area, with history in the extensive crown molding and the marks of many other lives on the hardwood floors. It was sparsely decorated, but homey in its own way. The one time he'd been there, she'd given him a quick tour, had shown him the baby's nursery. They'd stood in the doorway together for a long while, looking at the crib, the bags full of clothes and bedding, a stuffed dog hanging limply over the side of one of the bags. Outside of that room they would go their separate ways, but inside they were bonded forever, and what was there to say really? Tony had said, "It's nice." Pepper had nodded and said, "It's got a ways to go yet." In truth, he hadn't even wanted to set foot in the room. They still hadn't come to an agreement about her moving back. She was adamant that she and the baby were going to stay in San Francisco and it was making him insane. He knew that he couldn't let the conversation go much longer.
On her refrigerator, magnets held reminders in place: a small card with the date and time of her next doctor's appointment; a piece of paper torn from a notepad with Tony's date and time of arrival in Pepper's neat cursive; a postcard from Rhodey, and although he felt guilty for reading the contents, he reasoned that the card was right there, available to anyone who happened by. The message was short and teasing, but near the end, he told her to call him sometime.
Pressing the glass against the yielding plastic arm, he watched hypnotically as it filled, and then turned out of the kitchen back toward Pepper.
"Here you go," he said, handing the glass to her. "How are you feeling?"
She sipped her water, then rolled her head from side to side. "Tired," she answered honestly. "You know how it is in hospitals, being there is usually worse than whatever it is you're there for," she smiled.
"Amen. That's why I never go. You, uh…You've gotten bigger since last month," Tony observed.
Setting the water to the side, Pepper rubbed her stomach. "Yeah, it's starting to get uncomfortable. Sometimes, it feels like he's sitting on my ribs."
"I can't imagine what it must feel like, for him to be in there, moving and growing. It's like that scene from Alien –"
"Sucking his thumb," Pepper said, although somewhat sadly. At Tony's inquisitive gaze, Pepper explained. "Because I was so sick, they did an ultrasound this morning, wanted to make sure he was okay. He was sucking his thumb," she told him.
Tony didn't know what to say; it made the baby seem more real, more personable somehow. "Wow," he said. "That's…frighteningly real. And he looked good?"
"Yes, yes, he was fine. Good, steady heartbeat," she paused as if considering something. "The placenta, it's moved," she said, almost embarrassed. "I'll, uh, be able to have him vaginally."
"That's good, Pepper. I had Jarvis read up on that condition, it's more serious than you led me to believe," he said without rancor.
"I didn't have a bad case of it; it was only partially covering, so um, I had a much better chance of it correcting itself."
"I'm glad everything is okay."
"Me too."
"Will you still have an appointment on Friday?" he asked.
Pepper nodded, reaching for her glass of water. "Doctor Russell said she still wants to see me."
"Good, I want to be there, to see him," Tony said.
"Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"If you want to…I understand if you want to get…He's your son. There was never anyone else…but I understand if you need to…verify that once he's here. Just for your own peace of mind."
Sitting next to her on the couch, he was taken aback by her statement and by its implication. He knew they loved each other. He also knew she would never have slept with someone after having just slept with him, no matter what her state of mind at the time. He reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. "Pepper…no. Honey, I know he's my son. Our son. I have never doubted or questioned that for even a second. I know you, the kind of person you are. That's all I need to know."
She nodded simply, leaning into his touch for a moment until the feelings she was experiencing became too much, too awkward for her. "Um, well, I finished the baby's room, do you want to see it?" she said pulling away.
There was a sadness he couldn't pin down, something that drifted around inside him, bumping his lungs, bouncing off his liver, pushing upward toward his heart. "Sure," he replied.
They stood and he followed her down a narrow hallway; she'd hung pictures in the hallway since he'd last been there, and a round, antique table was at the end of the hall with what looked like a fern perched on its top. The door to the baby's room was closed, she reached out and turned the knob, pushed the door open. The walls were painted midnight blue, a mobile hung over the oak crib, the miniature cars swaying a little as they walked closer.
Maps of different parts of the world were framed and hung on all four walls; there were no pastels, it wasn't the usual fare for a baby's room. But there were touches of Pepper everywhere, it was intelligent and unique, it was something she'd pondered, had deliberated over. On the short dresser that doubled as a changing table, there was an assortment of baby paraphernalia; Tony guessed the drawers were full of baby clothes. A small, leather recliner was in a corner, a nightstand to the right. There were books and magazines stacked on the nightstand, a lamp and box of tissues; there was an issue of Scientific American on the floor next to a box that boasted a picture of a baby monitor on the front, the box unopened. In the other corner, there was a small, wicker hamper. Tony peered over the side of the crib; there was an impossibly tiny comforter adorned with racecars. Probably for him. She was always considerate, purposeful, about everything. No matter how hard he tried, though, he could not visualize a baby in the bed, nor could he see Pepper sitting in the recliner, whispering as she rocked their son to sleep.
He was in his son's room –his son, how strange those words were- but he was a stranger, he had not picked out anything, had not helped Pepper assemble the baby's bed, had not gotten a level and made sure the pictures were straight. He would not be there when she put the baby in the crib at night, he would not be there when he woke up. It would be her, maybe Mike Andrews, maybe some other man, and Tony would still be in Malibu playing superhero; he would be in Malibu, alone –no, lonely, I'll be lonely without her, without them, he thought- and Pepper and his son would be in this room.
Without turning around, he whispered, "Pepper, I'm sorry I said what happened between us was a mistake. It wasn't, not now, not then. I was overwhelmed - I am overwhelmed by my feelings for you. I've written you letters, I've kept them, maybe I'll send them to you so you'll know how I feel, would that be all right?" It was all he knew to say, he was not eloquent with his own thoughts, but he felt the least he could do was to be honest.
He turned around but she was not there; he turned and left the room, walked down the hallway, but she wasn't on the couch, either. Crossing the living room, he made his way to her bedroom, and there he found her, asleep. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was after eleven. He wondered how long he'd stood in the baby's room, but he didn't know what time he'd entered, so there was no real way to gauge. He wondered why she left him standing there, and why he didn't notice when she slipped away.