Thank you to whoever took the time to review.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Marvel respectively. Some dialogue/scenarios are taken from IM2.

7:30 A.M

LAX Private jet terminal

Los Angeles,

CA

One not-so-peculiar thing Tony Stark noticed after Pepper Potts left was that he wanted her. Not sexually, of course. He just wanted her as an assistant. Okay, there was some sexual-wanting, but mostly not.

He called Legal maybe half a day after she left the mansion.

Sure, he tried to focus on other things, like creaming Happy again in the boxing ring or signing papers Natasha shoved down his throat, but at the end of the day she dominated a large portion of the space in his mind. Her legs. Her hair. Her neck. Her heels.

His now former assistant was not happy about Tony's decision, whatsoever. She made that very clear, not in words, but in facial expressions. Her signature scowl of distaste once he told her that he planned on hiring Pepper was something seared onto his brain, not because he didn't like it, but because he loved it. Getting Natasha upset was something he enjoyed thoroughly. Maybe that was one of the things he was going to miss about Miss Romanoff.

Although he was very much looking forward to seeing Pepper Potts.

It's only simple attraction. Which was true. He just wanted something nice to look at around the office. He wanted pleasant company, not the kind of company that made him want to tear his hair out in rage. He wasn't going to even attempt to have sex with her. That didn't mean he didn't want to, he just wasn't interested in being that type of person anymore. Hadn't been for what seemed like a long time.

After he called Legal, talked to numerous jack asses whose voices all sounded identical, and discussed what amount of money she would cost, it was confirmed that Ms Potts would be his new assistant. He had to admit he smiled for a while, staring at nothing but his hands, but he realized he was being pathetic and went back to work.

Now, a day later, his car was pulling into a private terminal at LAX with the sun beating down harshly on the vast plateau of pavement. His shiny new PA was standing at the foot of the portable stairs that led to his jet, and he studied her from behind the safety of the tinted windows.

Her light red hair was down again today, except a strand of it was pinned to the side of her head. The legs, her legs looked heavenly under a dark blue dress.

He liked the way it hugged her figure. He liked it a lot.

The car came to a stop a mere few feet away from her and his jet, and then he was out and striding towards her like the confident man that he was. She watched him approach, acknowledged his "Miss Potts," but stepped aside as he bounded up the jet stairs. She followed him silently, Happy behind her, and the three of them walked aboard.

Tony wasted no time before he looked at her over his shoulder once they entered the main cabin.

"Welcome, my dear, to your first flight on Stark International and Highly Sophisticated Airlines. There are numerous things you can do on this plane. Sleep, eat, drink, watch TV, movies-"

"Sex," Happy offered blandly behind them, wincing in pain as he set down the portable Mark IV suitcase.

Tony put his hands behind his back and pursed his lips. "That, too."

Pepper smiled. "Thank you for hiring me, Mr. Stark." She walked forward and offered her petite hand, which he took in his own. They shook. She stepped back and turned to address Happy with an embarrassed expression on her lightly freckled face. "Happy. Sorry about what happened in the ring..."

Happy, mildly surprised that she brought the subject up, shook his head and frowned. "Oh. It's completely fine."

"Are you sure? I can give you a free massage to help with your shoulder."

The bodyguard stopped and looked at her curiously. "How'd you know my shoulder was hurting?"

Pepper crossed her arms. "The technique I used on you was something designed to cause the deltoid muscle a tremendous amount of pain. I didn't do it that hard, thankfully, but-"

Tony coughed loudly. "So. Miss Potts. Would you like a drink?"

Pepper turned away, while Happy stared at her back in utter amazement. "No, thank you, Mr. Stark. I think that we should-"

"Tony."

"What?"

"It's not Mr. Stark, it's Tony."

She nodded. "Tony. I was just about to suggest that we go over your terms and conditions."

Tony made a hmm noise, a clear sign that he was not paying attention anymore, and made his way towards one of the polished tables near the windows. He waved a flight attendant over and ordered a drink for himself.

"Terms and conditions about our relationship," Pepper said slowly, amused at how quickly he decided he didn't want to listen.

That definitely got Tony's attention. He swiveled in his chair and raised his eyebrows.

"Relationship, huh?"

A voice sounded through the speakers and clarified they were ready for takeoff. Pepper walked over to the table, taking a seat across from her boss and buckling herself in.

"I mean your requirements of me as your personal assistant. Routines, dislikes, past events I need to be aware of."

She already knew everything she needed to know about him; she was asking so that no suspicions about thoroughness would be raised.

Tony frowned and cleared his throat. "I'm more of an 'every day is a wonderful surprise' kind of person. No routine. I take life very seriously."

Pepper smiled. "I'm sure you do."

Tony quirked his lips and looked at her. "I guess I dislike chocolate."

"Chocolate?"

"Yeah."

They remained silent as the jet flew down the asphalt, lifting it's wheels and flying up into the blue sky. Once the plane was in the air and making a steady course for their destination, a flight attendant emerged from the bar and brought Tony his order. She smiled and placed it in front of him slowly, almost seductively. Tony took the drink, ignoring her, and automatically tipped it back.

When he was finished, he slammed it onto the table and studied his new assistant.

"You know what I think?" He asked.

Pepper raised her eyebrows.

"I think that you are going to make an excellent PA."

"Well, thank you, Tony," she said, simulating flattery.

He gave her a crooked smile. "You're welcome, Miss Potts."

"I suppose if I have to call you Tony, then you should call me Pepper."

Tony twisted his lips. "Pepper. How the hell did you get that name?"

"My mother loved peppers. She put them in nearly everything my siblings and I ate." Pepper lied easily.

"Your mom was a cook?"

She lied again. "No. She loved doing it, though. One of her favorite things, actually."

"Do you like to cook?"

"Not really. Do you?"

"Would rather stab myself in the face with a fork."

Pepper chuckled. "That bad at it?"

"That bad at it."

Happy, whom was nonchalantly reading a newspaper in front of the enormous flatscreen TV, looked up from his reading. "He's being modest, Pepper. He can boil water pretty well."

Pepper laughed lightly. It was genuine this time.

Tony rolled his eyes and sank further into his chair, propping his feet up on the table between him and his assistant. After a few seconds of fiddling with his thumbs and clucking his tongue, he sighed. "How long do we have before we get there?"

"Approximately eleven hours." Pepper replied pleasantly.

"I'm bored."

"Why don't you read?"

"I don't like to read. It's overrated."

"That's unfortunate."

He frowned. "What is?"

"That you think reading is overrated when it's not, actually. People read books less and less with every generation. I think it's sad."

Tony rested his head against the back of his chair and stared at her in bewilderment. He tilted his head to the side. "This is going to be hard, trying to figure you out. But I'm really good at it when I want to be."

Pepper narrowed her eyes in over exaggerated suspicion. "Is that so?"

He nodded and sipped his drink, fighting a smile.

Right after Phil confirmed she was Tony Stark's new assistant, Pepper Potts was sent to the Stark Industries H.Q and given an employee manual, mints, and a very large stack of paperwork. She was also told that they were to be attending the annual Monaco Grand Prix the next day, so naturally it took most of her first day on the job to sort everything out, make calls, confirm seats.

There would be an exclusive party, spectacular Mediterranean cuisine, and they would have seats to die for, thanks to her.

Now Tony Stark's private plane was somewhere over the Pacific ocean with her in it and she was already getting flustered with the amount of work she had left to do. She never got flustered. This lead her to believe very firmly that she was not designed for this job. The hours of sitting made her legs twitch, the hours of writing made her hand cramp, and the hours of reading made her eyes burn.

She kept her discomfort very well hid, though. To the outside eye she knew she looked like this was all just a regular routine.

Tony Stark did not seem to be bothered by any of it. He was used to this. Every once in a while Pepper would look up from her work and watch him go about...whatever he did. Sometimes he was talking to Happy, sometimes he was doing something on his phone, sometimes he was staring out the window and twiddling with a drink in his lap. Occasionally she would catch him staring at her, but he would quickly avert his eyes.

She found him odd in a funny way. He was an intriguing person with an intriguing lifestyle. She could tell that he was smart; perhaps from something in his eyes or the way he carried himself. She admired and respected that.

She could also tell he had a sad side, a side that he never intentionally let anyone see. She often picked up on those things in her line of work, and within the first few minutes of meeting Tony it was imminent. However, she knew from many, many years of experience that everyone had a sad side. Everyone.

And she couldn't lie, he excited her. She liked something in their banter and she didn't know why. It felt easy and free to talk with him and he was charming. She liked Happy, too. He was kind and witty enough to keep up with his boss but possessed enough integrity to fend off any ridiculous suggestions. Tony made a lot of ridiculous suggestions, Pepper noticed.

Perhaps the thing that fascinated her the most through all of it was the circle of light in Tony's chest. She knew the story behind it. That was part of her job. But she was mainly curious at how Tony Stark looked and acted as if it never had happened. If Pepper was just a simple person meeting him for the first time, she would never have guessed this man had gotten captured by a terrorist organization almost a year before. He was well experienced in the game of charade.

As was she.

Overall, Pepper Potts decided she liked Tony Stark. She respected him, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't curious to get to know him more.

She debated whether she should be concerned about that or not.

MONACO GRAND PRIX

As soon as his shoe touched the pavement and he stepped out of the car, he was greeted with rays of Mediterranean sun and the sounds of a devoted and enthusiastic crowd-all he had to do was throw up a few peace signs. Tony wasn't foreign to the wave of screams/adoration he received when in public, and as he looked back over his shoulder, it seemed as though Pepper wasn't exactly unaccustomed to it either. She kept her head up and walked effortlessly around the limo as Happy pulled it away, following her new boss (him, he thought smugly) into the hotel.

The lobby was great, he guessed. He couldn't remember if this was the same hotel he stayed in last year or if it was an entirely new one because they all looked the same to him, these schmuky five-star places. That and the fact that he was absolutely hammered last time he made this trip. He slowed his pace when he passed the revolving doors so that Pepper could walk beside him, which he could tell surprised her a little.

"What do you think?" He murmured close to her ear.

Pepper smiled. "I'm the one who booked this place, Mr. Stark."

"Right."

Pepper approached the front desk, where one of many concierges were waiting, and Tony Stark followed her because he had nothing else to do.

"Bonjour, Monsier. Est-que tu as un réservation pour Monsier Tony Stark?" Pepper asked smoothly.

"Ah, bien sûr, Madame. Vos dejeunér au huitième étage et voila," the man handed her one room key and smiled.

Pepper put it in her satin clutch purse. "Merci. Bonne journée."

"Et toi."

Tony supposed he should not be so surprised, but he was. He stared at her quizzically through his glasses as they walked toward the elevators. She finally met his gaze and returned a smart look of her own.

"Yes?"

"That was great."

"I thought you spoke French, Mr. Stark."

"Yes, but it's always nice to see a fellow American doing it. Very refreshing."

"I see."

"And for the last time, Ms. Potts, it's-"

"Tony Stark!"

Tony turned and was immediately greeted by a group of approaching French girls, giggling and pushing each other while holding pens and paper. He looked at Pepper in a what-can-I-say kind of way and then he slipped effortlessly into the persona of public Tony Stark. He raised his eyebrows comically and proceeded to sign what they shoved shyly at his hands, saying something smart and inducing a collective laugh. He answered their questions, asked some of his own, turned on his charm. Soon more people gathered, bunching around him like a swarm of wasps, and his name was shouted from all different directions in both French and American accents. Quite possibly there was a Canadian in there as well, but that was only Tony's sophisticated guess. After a few minutes, hotel security broke up the crowd, and when they all were finally satisfied with their autographs and reluctantly began walking away, he turned and glanced at Pepper. She hadn't moved from where he left her.

"You'll have to get used to that," he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the elevator indifferently.

Pepper smiled and pressed the 'up' button. "Of course."

The elevator doors opened and they faced the crowded and immensely popular eighth floor restaurant, Le Huitième Étage.

They exited the elevators, Tony first, and walked across expensive carpets, past beautiful views of the race track and the Mediterranean. Pepper was impressed by the prestige, the elegance. It was a beautiful restaurant. They were stopped multiple times by people who knew/didn't know Tony, and after talking for a few minutes, most of them would lean over his shoulder and ask who Pepper was. She would of course smile professionally and introduce herself as Tony's new assistant, and they would smile in return. She mentally marked all the smiles that were genuine because it was always nice to receive a genuine smile when you weren't used to them.

A few times Tony would slow down, place a hand at the small of her back, and she would realize that he was posing for a picture. She did her part and smiled sweetly, and after the cameras flashed they would be walking again.

She kept up being polite, and after ten minutes of being introduced and photographed she excused herself and went to look for someone who could prepare their reserved table. Once that was done she went to look for Tony again. He was nowhere to be found.

She thought quickly. If I were Tony Stark, where would I be?

The bar.

She rounded a corner that brought her to an entirely different section of the restaurant. This part was reserved for the most important people. She made her through the crowd, ignoring every widened eye as she past, and sure enough there was Tony, standing rigidly with a glass of scotch in his hand and talking with Natasha Romanoff. They were both near a table hosting a large bouquet.

Pepper cleared her throat as she approached them and Tony's face almost visibly lightened. Natasha followed his gaze, and when her eyes fell upon Pepper, they narrowed slightly.

"Miss Potts. Nice of you to join me," Tony gave a nod and looked around, pretending to be bored.

"Yes, Miss Potts. Welcome to Stark Industries." Natasha offered a hand and the two women shook.

Pepper smiled. "Congratulations, again."

Natasha smirked and kept her voice completely monotone. "Oh, thanks. I'm just glad I was upgraded."

Tony swiveled his head and stared, openly surprised. Pepper ignored the insult, satisfying herself with the image of teaching this girl some manners the best way she knew how, and turned to face Mr. Stark.

"The race should begin in half an hour, so would you like to find a seat?"

Tony jumped at the out. "Great. I'll be seeing you, Miss Romanoff." He didn't even look back at his former PA as he headed towards the bar. Pepper followed him.

"Did I happen to mention that you look fantastic?" Tony asked as he settled against the counter. He gestured at the bartender for another drink.

Pepper put her hands behind her back. "Why, thank you very much."

"But that's unprofessional. What's on the docket?"

"You have a nine-thirty dinner."

He nodded and sipped his drink. "Perfect. I'll be there at eleven."

Suddenly, a loud voice rose over the general chatter of the crowd. "Anthony. Is that you?"

Immediately Tony lowered his glass and averted his eyes to Pepper, acute annoyance spreading across his face. "My least favorite person on earth-"

A blonde haired man in a tan suit approached the two of them, hosting an arrogant smile that showed off whitened teeth. Tony turned and offered a hand. "-Justin Hammer."

The man shook it and patted him on the back, his squinted eyes framed by expensive thick glasses. He laughed hotly. "Hey pal, how you doing? You know, you're not the only rich guy here with a fancy car."

He swiveled his head, causing his blow dried hair to flip, and pointed at a thin blonde woman approaching behind him. "Christine Everhart from Vanity Fair. You guys know each other?"

Once the woman was standing beside Hammer, Tony assessed her. "Yes, roughly."

Christine raised her eyebrows in amusement and nodded. "Roughly."

Pepper smiled. So, this must be one of Tony's pre-Afghanistan conquests. She felt slightly rude for giving her that label. Before she could introduce herself, Justin Hammer was offering a hand.

"Hi there, my name is Justin Hammer. You've probably heard of me. Hammer Tech?"

"Of course. Pepper Potts." Pepper replied, making good on the shake.

Hammer turned to Christine. "BTW, big story: Tony Stark's new PA. Congratulations."

Christine smiled. "I know, I know. And my editor will kill me if I don't grab a quote from you for a Powerful Women issue. Can I-"

Pepper nodded. "Oh, sure."

Justin looked at the two of them indifferently. "Um, she's actually doing a big spread on me for Vanity Fair. I thought I'd throw her a bone, you know."

Christine had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, and no one could blame her. Pepper, pretending to be impressed, nodded. "Right. Well, she did quite a...spread on Tony last year."

Tony swiveled his head and looked at his assistant with raised brows, impressed that she knew that fact. He shook it off and slyly looked back at Hammer, leaning himself further against the bar counter. "And she wrote a story as well."

Pepper smiled faintly. "Very impressive. Very well done."

"That was good." Tony nodded.

Now there was an awkward silence, one that they both enjoyed together. After several seconds, Pepper finally cleared her throat and straightened.

"Excuse me, I'm going to go see if everything's set for Mr. Stark. It was nice meeting both of you."

"Don't leave me," Tony murmured. Too late, she was already walking away.

"Hey buddy, how you doing?" Hammer addressed him now that he was alone, putting a hand on his shoulder. Tony cringed at the proximity, placing his sunglasses on. "Please, this is-oh, you can stop-not-"

Christine hurriedly pulled out a small recording device and pressed the record button. "So, this is the first time that you guys have seen each other-hey, you guys-" The Vanity Fair reporter put on a dazzling fake smile, trying to pry the two's attention away from the other.

They finally addressed her, Tony still squirming, and Christine launched into her set of questions. "Listen, it's the first time you've seen each other since the Senate."

"Ah," Tony shrugged Justin off. "since he got his contract revoked."

Justin's fake smile faltered. "Well, actually it's on hold-"

Tony, desperate to establish some space, began walking for the tables set near the windows overlooking the city. "That's not what I heard. What's the difference between hold and cancelled? The truth?"

Christine placed the recorder in front of Justin as they walked along.

Hammer cleared his throat. "The truth? Ah, the truth is-why don't we put that away? The truth is I'm actually hoping to present something at your expo."

Tony held back an eye roll as the three of them sat down at a spare table. "Well, if you invent something that works, I'll make sure I get you a slot."

Justin began to laugh uncomfortably, turning to Christine in an effort to convince her he already had a slot, and then Tony was being tapped on the shoulder by his new assistant. His corner table was ready. He jumped up from his seat gratefully and walked off after her, turning around and calling, "Hammer needs a slot, Christine!"

Tony spun and faced Pepper, smirking. "You like him?"

Pepper glanced sideways as they weaved through the growing throngs of people. "Justin Hammer?"

"That's the one."

She hesitated. "My opinion's irrelevant."

"Knew it. You hate him."

"No. No, not at all. Perhaps I just-"

"Dislike him." Tony smiled.

One side of Pepper's mouth curved upwards in amusement. "Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it."

They both remained silent as they walked across the restaurant. Tony was occasionally patted by friends or coworkers walking by. Finally, Pepper directed them to a corner table with a brilliant view of the track.

It was then that Tony realized he hadn't checked his palladium levels in several hours. He needed to. He stood from his chair nearly seconds after he sat down in it and excused himself, making his way through the crowd in search of the bathroom. Once he found it, he quietly slipped inside and stood at the sink, pricking his finger on the familiar metal needle, and waited for the results.

BLOOD TOXICITY: 53%

He shouldn't have been surprised. Jarvis had told him from the beginning that palladium didn't just disappear. It accumulated. Still, he stared down at his finger, slightly troubled, because he knew in that moment he was most certainly dying.

He found himself looking at his reflection, leaning into it, studying his mother's brown eyes and his father's chin. He assessed himself for several seconds.

"Got any other bad ideas?"