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Chapter 2: Venice
The rattling of the handle made her run towards the door. Before she got to it, however, Tony had already come inside the room and had closed the door behind him. Pepper overlapped her palms against her chest, tried to read his facial features to maybe anticipate another possible spat, but she was then surprised with what he did instead.
"Water?" he handed her the bottle in his hands and she frowned.
"Uhm, thanks?" she grabbed said bottle from him and then stared at his form as he walked past her to sit by the foot of the bed.
She alternated between looking at his pensive face and then at the bottle in her hands, uncertain as to how to proceed. He had stormed out of the room, had been gone for a long time, had come back with water for her for no apparent reason, and his current reaction was not one that she had expected of him. Living almost half of her life with this man had made her learn how to manage his bouts of anger, lechery, drunkenness, and problem-solving obsession. Yet, when it came down to his open moments of uncertainty – being so few and far between – she was always left wondering what to do next.
She swallowed hard, cleared her throat, and then drank half of the contents in the bottle before he spoke again.
"Do you ever think about death?"
Oh, God! What did he do to our hosts?!
Pepper braced herself to be hit by a rogue wave.
"Should I call Roberta?" Pepper calmly asked as she sat to his left, her eyes on his lost ones. Roberta Rhodes was their attorney and close family friend – who also happened to be James Rhodes' mother.
"I've been thinking about it a lot lately," he continued the conversation as if she had just not asked him a very serious question. "I've been thinking about Mom and Dad. About all the people that have died during Avengers missions… About Rhodey almost dying and ending up being paralyzed. Death is everywhere, Pep. It's the one real equalizer, I guess."
This was not news to her, in the least. She knew what death was. She had stared at it in the face more times than she cared to count. In fact, one particularly recent occurrence of it came to mind.
"Piero is dying," he said without further ado, his eyes now on her shocked face. "He has terminal cancer. Has three months to live, tops."
"He… what?"
"He wants to give us his company. You and me, I mean. Not Stark Industries, just us."
"In exchange for what?"
"Taking care of his legacy, and his wife, after he's gone."
"Why us? I mean, there must a family member that can inherit his fortune. Many charities would be more than happy to–"
"Are you really going to question the wishes of a dying man?"
"No," Pepper sighed. "I guess not."
Silence surrounded them once more, both of them caught in their differing thoughts. After another minute or so of quiet deliberation, Tony grabbed Pepper's right hand in both of his and tenderly kissed the back of it.
"I'm sorry," he half-smiled and she tilted her head to the side in curiosity. "I won't ask you to talk about us anymore. I won't even expect us to get back together after this. I know this isn't easy for you either, but know that it's twice as hard for me, though. I'm still learning how to cope with it. Be patient with me, please."
Pepper knew that he was telling her this more than just so that she could feel better about their current predicament. Yet somehow, it was having the completely opposite effect on her. However, this was not the time to talk about her feelings of doubt and regret. This was about processing the news of their hosts that she had just received. Pepper knew how important the concept of legacy was for Tony – he had almost killed himself when he had believed he was going to die of palladium poisoning. She knew that finding out about Piero's predicament had hit a sore spot for him.
"Does she know? Does Alba know?"
"She does."
"Oh, Jesus," Pepper covered her mouth with her hand. "I may have made some very inappropriate comments to her yesterday."
"You did? Such as?"
"Not insults, mind you, nothing rude. Just some questions and comments that assumed Piero would be around next year."
Tony flinched and Pepper groaned.
"You didn't know, Pep," he offered but she shook her head.
"Yes, I know. But this is exactly what happens when people lie. Other people get hurt. No one ever wins when lies are told."
"Can you blame them for it, though? They're trying to protect their interest. Just like we're lying to protect ours."
"I…" she closed her eyes and exhaled as she realized that she must have been more exhausted than she thought she was. Tony Stark was currently being more sensible and was making more sense than she.
"Needless to say, he wants to keep it this way until he's gone. He just wants peace and quiet during the last days of his life. I can understand that. Can you?"
"Yes, of course I can," she was taken aback by his veiled accusation of callousness on her part, but she did not feel like arguing about it right now. It was not as if she did not understand the gravity of the situation at hand – it was just hitting her too close to home.
But he doesn't know.
"Then let's not talk about it again, OK?" he said as he patted her left knee twice before he got up. "And let's go to bed."
A single nod was her only response before she got up as well.
They silently and mechanically returned to their sides of the mattress, covered their bodies with the blankets, and then stared at the ceiling while sleep slowly took over them. In the back of her mind, she could hear Tony spewing out random thoughts about death and legacy, and about how he needed to start making plans of his own as well. His comments did not need any response from her end, but she nodded along with them anyway.
"Can you imagine what Alba must be going through now, knowing that one day she'll wake up and her husband won't be there?"
Pepper, in the morrow, would forget this being the last thing Tony had asked her as part of their pillow talk. And Tony, who had not really expected an answer from her, would never forget what she replied to him either way.
"I can," she mumbled to him, eyes closed and half-asleep. "I dreaded that myself every day, when I was with you."
Tony's eyes landed on her now slumbering form; one of the many reasons why Pepper had broken it off with him becoming that much more obvious to him.
xxxXXXxxx
She watched in awe as their home crumbled into the Pacific Ocean, leaving nothing behind but the memory of it. From all the ways she had ever expected 10880 Malibu Point to disappear from the map, being blown up by a terrorist had not even made the list. She had believed it to be more likely the result of one of Tony's experiments going wrong and disintegrating the structure, but she appeared to have been quite incorrect in her assumptions.
Then again, she should have been expecting this. She was dating a superhero, after all.
"Tony!"
There was still one chopper left, but the damage seemed to have been done already. She strained her eyes as she looked down at the vast, deep sea, hoping to see a speck of red and gold come to the surface, only to find none. The last chopper circled the same area, waiting for her hero to come out of what looked like certain death. She was torn between wanting to see Tony alive, and being there to see him get blasted to pieces by whatever other weapons the helicopter had at hand.
Tony, she felt tears filling up her eyes. Oh, Tony! Please be alright!
Unfortunately, after five minutes of stillness in the waters, the chopper finally left her there, taking all of her hope with it.
She woke up with a start and immediately sat up. She pressed her right hand against her racing heart and held her body's weight with her left hand on the bed. She breathed so loudly and hard that her lungs and throat complained. Her body shook uncontrollably, as if it was being exposed to extremely frigid conditions. She felt dried tears pulling at the skin on her face and new ones starting to form. She was in a state of complete shock even though she knew that what she had experienced was just a nightmare – a recurring one, in fact – but that did not stop her from panicking even more when she turned to her left and saw that Tony was gone.
Tony? She gulped and threw the blankets from her legs. "Tony?!"
She ran towards the bathroom and slammed it open, but she found it to be as empty as it could be. She even checked the shower and the closets, but nothing she found there calmed her fears. She then ran out the door and into the hall, stared left and right, heard voices coming from one end of the hall, and then finally realized that she was overreacting to a stupid dream.
She was not home. She was in Venice. And she was here because Tony was here; alive and well.
Alive, she reminded herself. He's OK. He's alive.
She closed her eyes, covered her face with her hands, and then exhaled deeply and slowly to calm her nerves. She could feel her heart bit by bit returning to a normal beat. The echoing of laughter and voices were like a balm to her soul. She could actually smell Tony's cologne on her – perhaps transferred onto her when they had kissed the night before, and this last fact alone made her feel some peace.
There was nothing to worry about anymore. It had just been a scare. Just as every other nightmare of him dying had always been. He was here to stay. He was here to continue saving the world, time and time again.
"Honey, are you OK?"
She partly slid her hands down from her face so that only her eyes would be uncovered, and she silently watched as Tony gently approached her, measuring his steps as if he was afraid he would scare her. He was fully dressed, eyeing her with visible concern, and stopped his trek when he was but a foot away from her. He tilted his head to the side, carefully pulled one of her hands from her face, and then frowned when he saw the clear signs that she had been recently crying or extremely scared.
Her skin was so fair that even the smallest of tears or feelings of anger made her freckles flare. Her nose and eyes always became red and puffy, even with just a simple yawn. But he had learned, in their many years together, to distinguish between the aftermath of a yawn and the aftermath of a full-on rampage of waterworks. This was clearly the toll of the latter.
"Pepper, what's wrong?" he pulled her other hand from her face and held them both in his. "Are you in pain?"
"No," she looked up at him and shook her head. "I'm fine. Just bad dreams. That's all."
He frowned, opened his mouth to question her more, but then remembered that he had promised to behave. He knew that, as her friend, it was alright to question her answer and probe more for the real reason for her distress. But he was also aware that he had to give it time for his actions and words to be seen as nothing more than the result of concerned friendship and not of a lover's care. It would take him some time to adjust to the new situation, but he was certain that, one day, he would be able to embrace his redhead without worrying about her misreading his intentions or wondering if he was being fake.
Today, however, was not that day.
"We're having lunch. Want to come?"
"Lunch?" her eyes opened wide. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon," he replied as he led her back inside the room and closed the door.
"What?" she stared in horror at the wall clock she had ignored, minutes ago. "Why didn't you wake me? We're guests! They have an agenda! It's rude to–"
"Piero didn't feel well this morning. You were tired. It's OK."
"I…" she rubbed her right temple with her hand. "You're right. You're right. I'll be there in a sec."
"OK," he added after his eyes surreptitiously checked for signs of injury on her, just in case. "I'll let them know you're joining us."
"Thanks," she nodded and lazily combed her hair with her fingers, suddenly self-conscious of her appearance before the billionaire.
"And, Pepper?"
"Yes?"
"Piero knows about us. But he's OK with it."
"You mean about us not…" she halted her question when Tony reluctantly nodded to her. "He does? How did he find out? Did you tell him?"
"Didn't have to," he shrugged. "He figured it out himself. Said we're terrible actors. But he understands."
"Oh," her head recoiled. "What about Alba?"
"I don't know if he told her. I can find out, though."
"No, it's OK. Don't ask her. It's better if we don't know. But, if he figured it out, and he's just the first one, that means we need to get better at this. I doubt the other investors will be as understanding as Piero is."
"I know. We'll talk about it more when we're in the jet."
"OK."
"Alright. See you in a bit," he said with finality, turned around in place, and headed to the door. Before he was able to reach it, however, he was stopped in his tracks when he felt Pepper grabbing his right wrist, turning him to face her, and then throwing her arms around his neck. He was slow to react, mostly due to unexpected surprise, but he then returned the embrace by lacing his arms around her waist.
He rested his chin on her shoulder, patted her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner, and bit down on his tongue. He was not sure where the sudden expression of affection was coming from, but something told him it was better not to ask questions right now; especially not after she followed the tight hug with a quick peck to his cheek and she then rushed to hide inside the bathroom without another word.
He stood by the door until he heard her turn on the shower. He exited the room and then scratched the top of his head in confusion, wondering what had compelled her to do what she did. He was not complaining about it, nor was he planning on asking her to her face. He was just perplexed, that was all. He just did not want to misconstrue her actions or gain hope where he knew that none existed.
He was uncertain as to how long he had stood there, racking his brain trying to make sense of Pepper's seemingly random embrace. But he instantly figured it had to have been a long time when he heard the door open up again and saw Pepper walk out from it, looking as radiant and carefree as the part demanded she played.
Without words, she circled his right arm with her left one, and she then clasped his hand in hers. He eyed their intertwined limbs from the corner of his right eye, but he said nothing of it at all. He had just told her that Piero knew about them, and that the perception was that they were terrible at pretending they were together when they were not. Maybe she was just taking it upon herself to make sure their act was more believable. Maybe she was just getting comfortable and more attuned with the role she had been given to play.
Or maybe, just maybe, she was as shocked and shaken as he was at learning the news of Piero's illness and this feeling was what was driving her odd behavior. Maybe she was just thinking about her own mortality as much he had been thinking about it as of late.
Or maybe, a third maybe, she just felt relieved that he no longer had any expectations of them getting back together at the end of all of this, so she was now comfortable enough to play along with the charade.
Whatever it was, whatever it was, it was fine with him at the moment.
He could ask the questions later. He could wonder aloud, later.
When he continued to stand as still as a statue, Pepper encouraged him to move by squeezing his hand. She then tugged lightly at his arm, gave him a warm, genuine smile, and then pointed towards the hall with the top of her head.
"Mind escorting me to the kitchen? I don't think I know where it is."
He smiled brightly at her.
"It will be my absolute pleasure, ma'am."
Pepper snorted lightly and pressed her head against his arm all the way to their destination, having the desperate need to feel his warm skin against hers.
He was alive and well, after all.
That was all that truly mattered to her in the end.
xxxXXXxxx
To wrap-up their weekend at the Abbiati home, their hosts had squeezed into their already-tight schedule appearing at a charity event in the heart of Venice. Many of the investors they were supposed to visit throughout the upcoming six weeks were expected to attend, and Tony had to wonder if Piero had planned this on purpose. He would not put it past the man, seeing as he appeared to be wiser than he had led others to believe. In the end, however, it did not matter if it had been part of the original plan or not: he and Pepper had to go, play pretend, and that was all there was to it.
Tony stood in front of the full-length mirror in their guest room and gave himself a final once-over. He still had to put on the bowtie but, for the life of him, he could not figure out how to tie it properly. He actually was not even sure why he was making the effort at all. Ever since Pepper had moved out of the Avengers Tower in favor of renting a private condo for herself, he had not bothered with bowties or ties, unless they were clip-ons. He did not even care for placing handkerchiefs in the front pocket of his suits, unless they were already there and he did not have to try to figure out how to make it look presentable for formal events. One of his staff members had even suggested that he searched for another personal assistant to replace the redhead that was no longer in his life… and Tony had almost visibly gagged at such a stupid recommendation. The idiot who had provided the unsolicited advice was lucky to still have a job… and his natural-born teeth… and a face.
But that was a different issue in and of itself.
Occasionally, his failure to upkeep his personal grooming made him feel like the least self-caring individual in the entire world. Some infants he knew could take better care of themselves than he could, at times. Hell! Even family pets ended up figuring out ways to survive when their owners were too busy with their jobs. However, most of the time, he knew that what he was actually experiencing was just pure nostalgia and a lack of drive due to not having his other-half nearby. It was not at all a simple case of survival-of-the-fittest gone south.
Pepper had once joked with him about his inability to do anything without her that a regular human being was capable of doing on their own. It had been true back then, and it was true today. And, as far as he was concerned, it would always be true for someone like him. His mind was just too bright to be bothered by the day-to-day minutia that plagued the common people of the world. He had just been used to hiring people to do the jobs he did not want to deal with. All. The. Time.
"I don't think you can tie your own shoes without me."
"I'd make it a week."
"A week, really? What's your social security number?"
"Uhm… Five…"
"Five? You're missing just a couple of digits."
"Right, the other eight. Well, I have you for the other eight."
Nevertheless, he no longer had her around for the other eight digits of his social security number – or for the other eight of anything else whatsoever. Or, at the very least, he did not have her in a way that made him feel that he really had her at all. If Mr. Abbiati's suggestion on how he should go about getting back with Pepper did not work as expected, Tony Stark would have to learn how to tie his own damn shoes.
And memorize his social security number too, for that matter.
And, worst of all, he would have to learn to live without the woman he loved. That last part was what scared him the most.
"Stupid piece of crap," he mumbled and then pulled off the offending clothing item from his neck once more. He stared at it with a frown, as if the fabric would suddenly feel his wrath and automatically fold in the way it needed to go to do its job. Yet, after nearly a minute of staring, he finally accepted that he needed help. Her help.
"Pepper?" he called over his shoulder and towards the bathroom door.
"Yes?" came her response from inside the facilities, where she was getting ready for their outing tonight.
"Can you help me with something?" he turned in place and then headed to the bathroom door, rapidly knocking on it twice to let her know that he was right outside.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," she replied in defeat before she opened the double-doors of the bathroom and made Tony's jaw drop at what he saw. It did not matter how many times he had seen her playing the part of a female member of the elite of society; she always managed to one-up herself when dressing up for the role.
"I can't reach the zipper," she pointed towards her back with her right index finger. "I think I only got half of it closed."
Great, Tony gulped as his eyes stared at her up and down, only to then realize that he had not really paid attention to what he had just been told.
The favor she was requesting of him was fairly simple to grant, but he was having difficulty getting to it due to how much his attention was captured by her form. The way her long, white dress hugged her curves and accentuated her natural beauty managed to entrance him; just like a charmer could do to a snake.
"Tony," she waved her hand in front of his face. "Zipper, please?"
"Yes, zipper," he blinked several times and then took a step back to allow her to twirl in place to give her back to him. He then held onto the zipper with his right hand, pulled down her dress with the other, and then began unzipping her.
"Up, Tony," she quickly said, "Up, not down!"
"Sorry," he instantly replied and changed the direction of his hand. A moment later, Pepper's dress was exactly like it needed to be. However, Tony's bowtie was still in his hands.
"Pepper, could you–"
"I got it," she smiled and grabbed the bowtie from him before getting to work. He kept his back straight and his chin up while she fixed up the item for him. Once she was done, she patted his chest twice to let him know he was ready to go, and he instantly relaxed.
"Thanks," they both said at the same time and then chuckled simultaneously. An uncomfortable silence followed their light snicker until Tony asked the first thing that came to his mind.
"Dreading this?"
"Like you can't imagine," she replied with a sigh.
"I think I can. But, hey! At least we'll be on the road again tomorrow."
"That's true."
Much to their chagrin, another awkward silence befell them, their eyes dancing around the room to avoid each other's gazes. Tony scratched his chin and neck. Pepper self-consciously brushed her hair with her fingers. Their eyes met once for a quick second, and Pepper then felt heat rise to her cheeks.
"So, are you ready?" she asked.
"Yes. You?" he asked back.
"Yes," she nodded, cleared her throat, patted down her dress… and then silence engulfed them yet again.
They were standing by the threshold of the bedroom and the bathroom, acting like a couple of idiots, and Tony could not help but do what he did best in these types of situations: he jested.
"So… Is it my turn to try to break the silence again? I kinda lost track."
Pepper simply chuckled and shook her head from side to side, relieved that Tony had granted them both a way out.
"Let's get this over with, shall we?" she tilted her head to the side.
"We shall," he offered his right arm to her, forgetting for a moment that this was not his girlfriend he was attempting to escort. To his surprise, however, she circled his arm with a smile and without qualms.
Let her come to you, Mr. Abbiati had told him. People tend to want what they don't have.
Piero's idea, it seemed, was not as crazy as Tony had thought.
xxxXXXxxx
They could not remember the last time they had done this as a team – parading themselves in a sea of dick-measuring remarks and cross-examinations veiled as nothing more than innocent quips or signs of selfless concern – but they both knew it had been long enough when, after only half an hour into the charity event, they had both fled towards the balcony doors. The fake pleasantries and sugarcoated jabs that were ever present in events like these had become something they had thought they would never have to live with again. Nevertheless, here they were, and here the pretentiousness was, as well.
"Do you know who I am?" Tony pointed towards his chest with his right index finger, his voice low so that only Pepper could hear him. "I'm Iron Man. Why do I have to put up with this shit?"
Pepper spared a glance over her left shoulder, her arms bent over the railing of the balcony, subconsciously mimicking the same pose Tony had.
"Because you're also Tony Stark," she whispered back to him.
"Guess I'm getting old," he mused. "It was a lot easier to play pretend back then. I had nothing to lose and energy to spare."
Pepper gave him an apologetic smile, feeling the same frustration he obviously felt, and then placed her right palm on his right upper arm.
"But, for what it's worth… we only have four more hours of this crap."
He laughed aloud at her response and patted her hand on his arm. He loved it when Pepper spoke more like herself than the businesswoman she was.
"Well that's comforting… in no way whatsoever," he smirked.
"I'm afraid that's the best I have," she smiled back and retracted her hand from his form.
"It's still better than what I had to say about it," he admitted.
"Which was?"
"Nothing at all."
"Thought so," she replied in a smug tone that prompted him to shake his head in feign disapproval of her response.
"Though, you wanna know who didn't really think, I think?"
"Who?"
"Jack," Tony replied.
"Jack? Dobson?"
"Yup," Tony flared his nostrils. "What was he thinking, bringing the mistress to this thing?"
"Oh, yes!" Pepper nodded. "I noticed that, too. I guess Melanie is too busy with their newborn to care about parties, right?"
"Really?" Tony's face was one of disbelief.
"Yup," Pepper replied. "So much for being the cream of the crop, huh?"
"The cream of the crap, if you ask me! What an ass! What kind of dick leaves his wife at home with their new baby to party-it-up with the other woman?"
"Jack Dobson, it appears."
"Please don't tell me we have to meet up with him during this stupid trip."
"We do."
"Ugh, Pep! I just told you not to tell me!"
"Tell you what?" a third person said, and it made them both jump out of their skin as a result. They instantly and begrudgingly recognized the voice, which set them both on high-alert, just before they shared a knowing look as they turned in place to face the newcomer behind them.
"Christine Everhart," Tony said between gritted teeth. "What a… pleasant, I guess… surprise."
"I'm sure," Christine's smile could have not been more hypocritical. "But it's probably not as surprising as me seeing the both of you in the same room. It's been a while since the world has witnessed the two of you… together."
Great! Tony was in shock, but he did not let his fake smile falter. She's on to us, too!
"It would only make sense that you don't see much of us," Pepper snaked both of her arms around Tony's left one and pulled him closer to her. "I would think that our lives aren't any of your concern now that you don't report for Vanity Fair. I'm sure you have bigger fish to fry, Ms. Everhart."
"Bigger than exclusively covering the most-awaited Wedding of the Decade?" Christine asked, condescension dripping from every spoken word. "Of course not! I'm still waiting for the wedding invitation since, well, we all go way back. I almost feel like we're old friends, the three of us."
"Friends?" Tony narrowed his eyes and pretended to seriously consider her words. "I'm pretty sure you weren't on that list of mine, last I checked. I think I had you under a list titled: Nuisances that come with the territory and are, sadly, a fact of life."
"Oh, you're so funny," Christine spat. "As funny as this whole charade you two have going on. I mean, seriously. Do you really expect us to believe that the two of you haven't called it quits since forever ago? It's so obvious it's almost not even newsworthy. Why don't you just be honest and come clean with the world? We all saw it coming, anyway. It just took longer than expected. I gotta give you points for that. So, what was it? What finally hit the last nail in the Stark-Potts romance coffin? Was it infidelity? Irreconcilable differences? Poor performance in bed? Irreconcilable differences due to poor performance in bed that lead to infidelity? Please, do tell!"
Tony's entire body tensed. He barely held back an angry groan. His knuckles turned white. And just as he was about to give the insufferable woman a piece of his mind, Pepper Potts beat him to the punch.
"Ms. Everhart," the redhead's voice was as calm and collected as it could ever be. "I understand that someone in your position, and with your poor dating track-record, can find it difficult to comprehend what a settled relationship looks like. I admit that Tony's past experiences with the media are probably a stark contrast to what you see of him now, and that this just adds to the confusion. And, although I find it hard to believe that the WHiH Newsfront is at all interested in our personal lives, you can quote me on this for your next broadcast, if you're so much inclined to do so: Tony Stark and I are still very much in love with each other. Just like any other couple, we've had our ups and our downs; especially with me being so busy as the CEO of the largest technology conglomerate in the world, and with Tony's occasional saving of the world – which you've had the pleasure of reporting for us, actually. But just as anyone in a serious relationship can attest to it – that's the cycle of a real relationship. We yell. We fight. We get angry at each other. But we make it work. Maybe not in the fairytale way that the likes of Vanity Fair would love it to be, but in the way that real life mandates it should be. End quote."
Pepper's triumphant smile grew at seeing Christine pursing her lips in utter defeat and feeling Tony somewhat relax. The reporter had clearly expected a longer verbal exchange of sarcastic retorts until she caught them in a lie, but the redhead's response had just completely annihilated any chance she had hoped to have to bring to the light what she knew would be the greatest celebrity news until now. Christine Everhart was not stupid. She knew what the revelation of a breakup between Pepper Potts and Tony Stark could have done for her rising career; and for her pockets, too, as many competitors of Stark Industries sponsored her newscast.
Then again, there was always tomorrow, and the day after that. Sooner or later, the couple would irreversibly slip-up – she just knew that, in time, they absolutely would. All she really had to do was be there when it took place; everything else would just piece itself together without much effort on her part. She was going to make sure she had a front-row seat of the view when the time came. She would be damned if she were to miss her one chance to get back at the highly-regarded Pepper Potts.
Trash, she had once called her. She was yet to get even about that.
"Very well," Christine's smile returned. "I guess there's nothing for me to report, huh?"
"Nothing that anyone would be interested in hearing, no. I don't think so at all," Pepper replied.
"Oh, well," Christine sighed. "Until next time, I guess, my dear friends."
"Until next time, Ms. Everhart," Pepper said with a slight nod.
The reporter returned the parting nod to the both of them, turned in place, took a step back to the balcony doors, but then suddenly looked over her shoulder with a knowing smirk that made the couple tense up once more; a look that made them feel terrified at whatever the woman could possibly want.
"One last thing, before I forget," she stared at Pepper directly in the eye and placed a palm on her chest. "I was so sorry to hear about your miscarriage, Ms. Potts. I'm sure it was a very difficult time for you both, but I'm happy to see that you two worked it out. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Christine Everhart had just pulled on them the oldest trick in the news reporter book: throwing a shot in the dark.
Much to Pepper's misfortune: it had hit the bull's-eye.
xxxXXXxxx
He waited until the reporter was far away from earshot to groan loudly, outright despising himself for and regretting the moment he had thought it a good idea to spend the night with the intolerable blonde. He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed in hardly contained indignation at what they had just had to live through. If they were not at such a public place, he would have made a scene that would have taught the fake blonde exactly what he thought of her passive-aggressive behavior towards them. If so much was not riding on them keeping up with appearances, and if he did not want to give Pepper yet another headache to deal with, he would have told the world, long ago, that the renowned news anchor was nothing but a big, fat fraud.
"I really hate that woman. She's so full of shit. I would know: I'm full of shit, too."
When the redhead did not utter a response, let alone make a snarky comment about his poor attempt at self-deprecating humor, Tony looked towards her stunned silent form and furrowed his brow in confusion. Pepper had seemed to be on top of the dire situation, just mere seconds ago – so ahead of the game the reporter had tried to play, that her current shocked reaction seemed too out of place for him.
Surely, she knew that Christine would do or say anything to try to get a rise out of them. Surely, Pepper Potts knew better than to let such a cheap comment get the best of her. They had heard worse before – much, much worse. She had too many times lived through worse media trash on his behalf. And she had always managed to have the perfect response to any stupid comment made by the news. She had never let it get to her. She had never let it bring her down. She had never given any of those dumbasses the pleasure of seeing her stutter, sweat, or lose her cool.
She had always been calm and collected; in absolute control.
Even when the media had taken a small fact of their lives and had blown it out of proportion, she always found a way to turn it around and make it work for her. It was like a game of cat and mouse at this point, and Pepper had never, ever played the mouse part.
This situation was no different, as far as he could tell. This was not any more difficult than any of those previous times. There was no audience present to judge them; nothing clearly at stake. It had been a forced, all-but-casual conversation that no one other than them would know it had ever taken place. Christine's words should have not affected them – affected her, as much as it appeared they had. There was no truth to any of it. No basis for it at all. No reason whatsoever for the fake expression of concern stated by Christine to have any bearing at all.
Unless… Tony gulped. Unless… no…
His eyes alternated between staring at Pepper and a retreating Christine Everhart, the wheels slowly turning in his head. Celebrity gossip was something they were both used to dealing with on a daily basis. Shoddier stories had several times before been made-up about them. From claims that Tony was cheating on Pepper with anyone who happened to say hi to him, to bogus statements made by total strangers about their less-than-stellar sex life. It all came with the territory. It was all part of the world they lived in. The world he had brought her into when he had hired her as his assistant. The world she put up with for him.
Certain that no one else was on the balcony with them, Tony shifted in place and rested his hands on her upper arms to force her to face him. He tilted his head slightly; his eyes taking in her lost and puzzled gaze, silently hoping that she would suddenly snap out of her trance and look at him without him having to shake her back into her senses. When after nearly a minute or so she continued to stare into space, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. He watched intently as she blinked her sight back into focus. He felt some type of relief when she rested her palms against his hands to keep them where they were on her face. She then closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply through her nose. When she finally opened her eyes again, she let out a shuddering exhale through her mouth and then cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry, Tony. I… I don't know what came over me."
"That makes two of us," he replied.
"I just… I wasn't expecting that. From all the things she could have said to us, that was the last trick I thought she'd try to pull."
"I can tell," he slowly removed his hands from her face to put them in his pockets, but he did not pull away from her. "I didn't expect it either, to be honest. I mean, why would we, right? Why would she even think to say that?"
"Right. I… It just doesn't make any sense."
"Nope," he questioningly squinted his eyes. "No sense at all."
He followed the narrowing of his eyes with an inquisitive sideways tilt of his head – one that she knew he favored whenever he was not satisfied with someone's half-assed response to a comment he had made that he believed to be important. Then, without thinking much about what he was about to do – or what the consequences of his actions would be, he stared directly at her belly, stopping only when she self-consciously covered it with both of her hands and cleared her throat. She then turned her head away from him and pretended to be looking at the partygoers through the see-through balcony doors to her right, hoping that the gesture would entice him enough to look in that general direction as well, and to let the conversation go.
Unfortunately for her, and for him, he was as curious and as stubborn as she was. And, as if that was not enough, he also knew when she was trying to lie her ass off.
"Pepper," he scratched the back of his neck with his right hand, almost dreading what he could feel was about to come.
"I don't know where that idea came from," she suddenly snapped, practically reading his mind by the tone of his voice and his posture.
"Are you sure you don't?"
He could tell that she was holding back, but he at least appreciated the fact that she was skipping the pointless part of the discussion where she tried to avoid the talk at all.
"I just said that I don't."
"Really? You don't? Are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell me?"
"Am I sure? Am I… what?" she swallowed down the truth and buried it behind a look of indignation. "What do you mean am I sure? Don't tell me you believe her?"
"Of course I don't," he replied. "But when it comes to you, I believe my eyes. And my ears. And right now, Pep," he shook his head and flinched. "Something's just not adding up here with you."
"Are you honestly pulling the Iron Man Detective stunt on me, Stark?"
"I'm honestly trying not to," he said. "And I won't continue to try, if you just tell me the truth."
"What truth? I just told you: I don't know why she said that."
"Then why are you so defensive?"
"Because you're being offensive."
"I'm always offensive. That's practically my middle name."
"Your middle name is Edward," she deadpanned, not at all amused by his attempt at forcing the truth out of her with humor.
"And my first name, right now, is Confused."
"There's nothing to be confused about, Tony. There's no truth to be told."
He sighed loudly, scrunched up his nose as he looked up, and then locked eyes with her once more.
"Because you would tell me, if there was. If you… if there was ever a baby, you would have told me about it, right?"
"Right," she gulped.
When neither of them had anything else to say, he unhappily regarded her for another moment, silently begging her to tell him the real reason why Everhart's comment had shaken her so, regardless of how awful or hurtful said reason was. Not many situations managed to make Pepper Potts nearly fall to her knees. Not just anything anyone said could make the claim to have made her crumble or leave her without speech. Let alone nosy reporters with illusions of self-importance and greatness. Yet, somehow, the wannabe-but-never-would-be Walter Cronkite had managed to do all of the above.
Then again, thinking about it more, maybe it was not the fact that there might have been a baby that had flustered her. Perhaps, it was the complete opposite of that. Perhaps, what had really bothered the redhead was that a baby could have never been part of the equation, whether she had wanted it or not. Maybe, the real issue at hand was that the reporter had made a joke of something that could have never even come to life.
Which one was worse, Tony could not immediately tell.
Whichever it was, however, there was nothing he could do about it now.
Perhaps later.
But not now.
xxxXXXxxx
It was the middle of the night, their current location being halfway to their second business stop, and she sat in complete darkness, near the front of the airliner, too wide awake for the time. Her legs were curled up under her, the left side of her head resting against the cold wall of the jet, and her eyes hazily stared at the sea of dark clouds outside. She knew that she should have been sleeping the night away in preparation for their next round of corporate meetings, rather than taking a break from anxiously pacing up and down the aircraft, but the grim thoughts swirling inside her mind did not feel like giving her a chance for some much needed rest. It also did not help that the pressure inside the cabin kept fluctuating so much so that it was constantly making her ears pop. Not to mention, the sudden drops in altitude that followed the slamming of the plane by strong wind gusts belonging to the thunderstorm they were yet to escape did everything but sway her to seek slumber.
How Tony still managed to fall asleep and remain asleep throughout it all, she could not explain. Then again, the man got beat to a pulp for a living – even as a hobby, sometimes. A passing storm probably did not even register in his immediate-danger-need-to-take-action scale. He was probably fighting the storm in his dreams, for all she knew. And he was probably dream-winning that particular fight, too.
Very much so as he had almost won their argument of yesterday. Very much so as he had almost caught her in a very serious lie.
It would kill him, she closed her eyes and then grabbed onto the armrest of the seat when the plane violently dipped again. If he knew about it, it would kill him.
Much to the surprise of people who were not acquainted enough with the billionaire, his feelings and pride were easily wounded by those he loved and cared about. Hurting him was the last thing she had wanted to do to him. Lying to him came as a close-second undesirable act. But lying to him was a far better choice than hurting him; at least in her eyes, most especially now, when she had been given a small glimpse of how Tony could have possibly reacted at finding out that he had lost an opportunity to become a father when he had questioned her about Christine's Everhart's comment. She did not want to imagine what his actual reaction would be if he were to find out that the reason why she was not still pregnant with his child right now was because of him. Because he was Iron Man. Because he had gotten himself killed.
Or so she had thought.
"We still haven't gone around the storm? Jeez!" Tony's half-asleep voice startled her out of her thoughts, but she quickly composed herself. She had not even heard the door to the bedroom open up; yet, here he now was, sitting across from her, scratching the side of his exposed chest and stomach with his right hand and his back with his left one.
"Fell from the bed?" she asked in a mocking tone and he rolled his eyes.
"I take it you heard the ruckus I made trying to get up?"
"I didn't."
"Oh," he scoffed and smiled in slight embarrassment. "Well, shit. Gave myself up, huh? Guilty as charged."
He followed his admittance by squinting his eyes to try to make sense of what he was seeing through the small window, but he could not even see the edge of the plane itself, let alone discern the origin of the shadows and shapes dancing outside.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.
A single shake of her head was her only response.
"Pep?"
"No," she answered when she realized that he probably could not see very well just yet.
"How long was I out?"
"Three, four hours, maybe?"
"What?" Tony's head recoiled. "And you've been awake all this time? You need to sleep, Pepper."
"Storm won't let me."
"But you must be tired."
"Not enough to sleep yet."
"Then maybe I should tell you a story."
"Oh, no, please," she chuckled. "I don't think I can handle more stories about how the Starkium element came to be."
"You mean Badassium."
"You mean the name that you couldn't get patented?"
"Technicality! In my heart, Pep, Badassium is the only name for my new element."
"Oh, Jesus! Please don't let me let you name our kids."
"Why not? Robert and Gwyneth sound like perfectly decent names to me."
"Robert and Gwyneth? You already chose names for our kids?"
"Of course I did!"
"When? Why?"
"When: since I realized I was in love with you. And why wouldn't I? You're the only woman I ever saw myself having any with!"
It did not immediately register with either of them what it was that they had just said until they replayed the other's words in their minds. And their reactions were not given a chance to come to the surface either when a massive jerking of the plane sent them both stumbling towards the floor.
"What the hell was that?" he immediately got to his knees and then crawled towards Pepper. "Are you alright?"
"I'm OK," she blinked rapidly and then held the side of her head with her hand. She would not immediately tell him, and it appeared that he had not witnessed it when it had happened, but she had hit her head hard against the wooden armrest of the seat she had been in.
He stood up from the floor with her in tow, held her body against his by snaking his arms around her waist, and then gave her a cursory glance for good measure before speaking once more.
"I think it's time for an emergency landing, don't you think?"
A shaky nod was her only response.
He guided her towards the seat he had just been forced to vacate and strapped her to it. After making sure the seat belt was tightly held in place, he turned on his heels and rocked back and forth towards the cockpit, grabbing onto whatever was available to keep him standing on his way there. As soon as he arrived, he slammed the door open, opened his mouth to order the captain to do his damn job, but was instead shocked by what he saw.
There was no pilot. Or copilot. They were both gone.
His eyes then landed on the navigation console and noticed that the autopilot was on – and that it had been on for almost as long as he had been asleep; almost as long as the storm had carried on.
Oh, shit!
He double-checked the readings one more time to ensure that his eyes were not deceiving him and, with utmost anger and regret, he confirmed that what he had just realized was true.
We're going around in circles. We've been staying inside the storm!
"Tony?" he heard Pepper's worried voice scream behind him. "What's going on?"
"Stay where you are, Pep," he made his reply before he sat in the pilot's seat and then began pushing buttons and pulling levers to regain control of the plane. "I got this!"
"What do you mean you got this? Got what?"
"I'm getting us out of here."
"You… You're getting us out of here? Why would you… What… WHAT the hell happened to– AH!"
"Pepper!"
He turned on the autopilot again, ran out of the cabin, and was then forced to stop his march when the plane shook up and down once more; this time, harder than any of the other times before. A second later, just as he was about to run towards a visibly scared redhead to bring her to the cockpit with him, the sound of something bursting through a window caught his attention, giving him only the span of the blink of an eye to come to terms with what was about to unfold.
The brightness of the unexpected explosion between them blinded him.
The sound of Pepper's voice calling for him before the bomb went off forced him into motion.
But it was the realization that the plane was now plummeting to the ground in many pieces – and that Pepper was nowhere to be seen, that truly pushed him over the edge.
Someone had set them up.
And whomever it was, they might as well already claim victory.
A/N: We couldn't have an Iron Man fic without some action, now could we? :P Any guesses as to what the hell just happened here? Thanks for reading and reviewing, my Faithful Readers!
Thank you for the favorite/follow: StarkObsessed, itsjoey, andmontiliciousmont.
Kate: Oh my god you have to give us the next chapter ? Is it real ? Did tony know ? Please tell us ! –DUN DUN DUN! Some answers to your questions can be found in this update :)
Marie Lecter: I'm soooo sad for our poor Pepperony! If you could just make this Ever-sh#t die under an 18-wheeler, I'd be most grateful. Her name has become one of my favourite insult since IM1 haha Can't wait for the next chap! It really is a fantastic fic :) PEPPERONY FOREVER – LOL! Evershit! XDDDD Tell me about it, though! Everyhart has NO heart, whatsoever. Thank you ^_^
Guest: Dammnnnn... I'm going crazy with this fic... Like I'm head over heels... Update soon plz plz! – Awww! Thank you! Here's the next update :D
guest: Holy crap! That was amazing and shocking at the same time! Pleeeeeease update soon! – Amazing and shocking… amazing and shocking… *thinks about the content of this update* Amazing and shocking… huh… ;)
Ana Paula Lopes: I could not post my review for the last chapter, as I had commented before you reorder the chapters. I know I'm missing a bit, but I'm still reading! OMG, I am shocked at the end of this chapter!I do not even need to say how much I can not stand Everhart, but now it has led to a completely new level of hatred and malice! And that was the secret of Pepper? When it happened, during the events of the Civil War? I wonder if that's why she turned away from him, wanting a little tranquility for the baby and he did not understand the signs? Pepper speech to this creature was so real that I did not see as if they were separate or on a break, but were going through a difficult phase and that would solve their problems together! I enjoyed that! I wonder Tony's reaction to this news! Until the next chapter xoxo – Hey, girl! Glad to see you're back! I was able to post your review by making it a guest review :D Hope you don't mind ^_^ And. O.M.G! I can't stand her either. She's so fake! Completely fake! But she makes a good villainess, though. Gotta give her that.
Sarai: Hola, me gusta tu historia, para cuando el próximo capítulo :) estoy ansiosa por saber lo que pasa, por saber como reacciona Tony, puedo imaginarlo... de mil maneras ,pero no es igual a leerlo. – ¡Hola, Sarai! El momento en el que recibí la notificación de tu review fue el mismo momento en el que terminé de escribir este capítulo. Espero te guste :) Gracias por leer y comentar ^_^