Author's Note: Thank you single, kind reviewer.

The Epiphany of Wrongs and Pancakes
II. Dreaming in Syrup
By: StriderX

In typical Tony Stark fashion, the sun had an easy race against his mid-morning rise. As blinding rays shone through intelli-glass windows, he finally stirred from his sleep…though much sooner then he would've hoped. Suddenly, the screens exploded with information pertinent to the day ahead.

"Sir," Jarvis began peacefully. "I believe you will want to wake up now."

Groaning from sleep, Tony twisted under the light sheets. "Time?" his voice was deep, gravelly, and extremely annoyed.

"9:30 a.m., sir."

For a moment, Tony lifted his head from the pillow and stared at a wall, disbelief coating his face. "And I want to get up now why?"

"Because, sir, Ms. Potts is still sleeping," Jarvis sounded almost amused.

Instantly, Tony jumped up. Disbelief to gleeful surprise, like a boy just told he best friend was coming for a visit. "She's still here?!" his voice was all too excited.

"Yes, sir. She fell asleep on the couch in her office after sending out the last of her work."

A wicked grin passed his face. "Thank you, Jarvis. I think I do want to get up now." After throwing on a white undershirt—the blue glow of the arc reactor shining through—and stealing a quick look in the mirror, he left his bedroom barefoot and pajama clad.

Pepper's office was on the other side of the house, half a floor down. But just as ornately modern and meticulous as the rest, the open room had a high ceiling and a perfect view of the Malibu coastline. The intelli-glass windows were tinted dark, blocking out the sun. The cool leather sofa and calming pale blue walls created the perfect environment for much needed sleep. Curiously, silently, Tony cracked the white wood door and peaked inside the darkened room.

The smile on his face was purer then ever as he spotted his loyal assistant curled up on the couch. If her eye's had been open, she'd be staring right up at the painting he's bought her two years before. He thought she looked so peaceful, so young—her hair let loose and suit jacket strung across the couch back. Her intelli-tablet rested blankly on the floor next to her, along with those famous blue stilettos. With no blanket, she'd tucked her bare feet under a pillow for warmth.

Without a sound, Tony tiptoed up to her with a soft cashmere blanket held in one hand. With a certain deep fondness he could no more explain then he could understand, he spread out the throw and lowered it carefully over her body. She stirred a little, but only to burrow into the cuddly new warmth. Absently, he bent down and brushed a lock away from her sleeping eyes and placed a gentle, protective kiss upon her forehead. But as reality struck him inside, he stood tall and flashed his best playboy grin—though he knew he's never treat her like all the others…he understood them.

But her, he thought with one last look before leaving the room and shutting the door, her he could never understand.

...

Awakening that morning was a very strange sensation for Ms. Pepper Potts. Eyes still closed and thoughts on the border of subconscious, she relished the warmth and protection that enveloped her. She couldn't quite describe it then, but there was a scent and a sound; so far off but so familiar that sent her waking mind spiraling back to dreams.

Lying on the beach, sun warming her skin.

The distant lull of waves crashing into the shore.

The deep scent of Tony Stark lying next to her, gently caressing the thin line from navel to rib cage: up and down, each pass softer, warmer then the last. Like…wait…

Tony Stark?!

She bolted awake, an overwhelming rush of blindness spinning from the speed of her sit. When sight finally returned, the far off drull of waves was replaced by the deafening pounding of her heartbeat. The blue walls, the familiar desk, brilliant sea sky painted outside the window…

"Oh no," she murmured helplessly, head in her hands. Had she really fallen asleep at work? …had she really fallen asleep in his house? And possibly even more important: where did that blanket come from?!

Slowly, shaking the shock—or maybe embarrassment—from her system, Pepper strapped on her shoes and pulled her jacket back into place around her shoulders. Slightly satisfied, she ran a hand through her hair and stood after grabbing the tablet from the floor. While walking to her desk she stopped, confused by the flashing 'access denied' flickering across the small screen. "Jarvis?" she called curiously.

"Good morning, Ms. Potts," the AI responded lightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," and come to think of it, she really had. "Jarvis, why can't I log into the computer?"

Jarvis took a moment to reply. Pepper stared at a wall, waiting for an answer. "Mr. Stark has temporarily blocked you from the system, Ms. Potts."

"What?! Why on Earth would he do that?" a million thoughts ran through Pepper's mind at once. Was he mad at her for not going home? Had she done something wrong? In nine years, he'd never shut her out. Why would he shut her out?!

"Mr. Stark would like you to join him for breakfast in the kitchen before you start your work, Miss,"

Pepper was floored. She had nothing to say.

"He's been cooking and preparing for the last half-hour."

Her eyes widened and voice finally returned with an uncontrollable giggle. "Our Tony Stark…cooked?"

Pepper couldn't help but laugh. Tony Stark: playboy, billionaire, owner of thousands of employees—all more-or-less servants—around the world…cooking breakfast. She didn't know why, but the vision of her boss flipping eggs in pj's and designer sunglasses was simply too much to keep a straight face.

Suddenly filled with childlike excitement, she quickly folded the spice-smelling blanket on the couch and left the room; navy heels clicking in a swift morning tune.

...

In the lavish, shining kitchen gleaming from the Malibu sun, Tony was having much more fun then he'd ever thought possible. He hadn't made breakfast in years—especially not for anyone else—but was speedily finding it to be a very therapeutic thing. He was whistling merrily, half-way through the first batch of pancakes when the percussion melody deafened his ears. It was quicker then usual, but not rushed. He wondered if it was the spring in her step that made his heart jump. Just after, he wondered why he'd never thought of it before.

When Pepper turned the corner to the open kitchen, the stoic expression she'd practiced melted away at the sight of him: pajama-clad (a white wife-beater covering his chest), thick hair ruffled in every direction (oddly sexy, a little voice inside giggled), and that purely innocent boyish grin as he whistled some jovial tune. He looked up from the stove in mid-pancake-flip. "Good morning!"

She leaned against the free standing island holding the stove, facing him. …a comfortable four feet away. "Yes," she grinned. "It is. What are you doing, Tony?"

Good, first names, he thought. This was personal, after all. There was to be no mention of Stark Industries or the day's schedule in this. This, this was just him and her. "Flippin' pancakes, of course."

Her expression was mockingly exasperated. "Well, yes. I see that," her eyes drifted questioningly to the line of cut fruit, cereal boxes, eggs, and bacon lining the counter.

He shrugged. "I wasn't sure what you liked…so I figured I'd pull out everything, just in case."

There was still a smile as she saw the casually set breakfast table on the deck outside. "You really don't need to do this—"

"Aah!" quickly, he cut her off, spatula pointing to her nose. "Yes I do," he paused, gesturing with the steel utensil. "Think of it like…compensation for a late night."

And then, it clicked. Pepper almost blushed. He was apologizing to her for the forgotten reports.

This, was a monumental moment.

She decided the best thing to do at this point was roll with it…after all, pancakes and fresh fruit were her favourite. She straightened up and shot a quick look of 'professional' approval. "Pancakes, with strawberries and syrup then, Mr. Stark."

If possible, his grin grew wider. "Coming right up, Ms. Potts. There's fresh coffee and juice on the table," his head nodded toward the deck. She suppressed her grin slightly and tore her eyes away from his and to the deck. "Get comfy…I'll be out in a minute."

TBC.

Second Bit: This is the longest chapter, though, in my thoughts, not the most powerful. That's coming. Till later then.