Chapter 7: Cookies
After almost getting caught out at Starbucks, Laurel was much more careful, never frequenting the same establishment, and venturing farther afield. She needn't have been so cautious, because Stark had abandoned that particular method of attack. He had reasoned that if he could be mere feet from her and not notice her, then he was unlikely to fare better the next time. Besides, he enjoyed sleeping in.
He continued to talk to the (apparently) empty lab, although it felt less and less empty each day. "I'm learning a lot about you, you know," he began the next morning. "The teleportation, invisibility, the way you spoke to people in the coffee shop and no one remembered you….You didn't show up on any of the security cameras. The hot coffee you brought me over a week ago is still just as hot as the moment it was made (which has so many potential scientific applications I can't even tell you). That woman tripped over nothing to fall into me just as I started to get too close. And then you instantly cleaned up my shirt like the spill never even happened….How do you do it all?"
He didn't seem to expect an answer, but Laurel wanted to give him one anyway. When he removed the lid from his cup of coffee and tossed it away as was his custom, she made the sudden burst of steam hover in the air for a few seconds, spelling out 'Magic'.
His suddenly shining eyes made her little display completely worth it…until he started rapidly firing questions. She listened in bemusement, as most of them were quite thought-provoking, or just…provoking. Laurel didn't answer him. A large part of her felt frightened at her own daring. She was revealing magic to a muggle—a clever, potentially dangerous muggle. She told herself that everything was still alright because he hadn't seen her face. As long as she remained invisible and anonymous, it didn't matter what he suspected. He would have no way to track her down.
Over time, she became even more solicitous. Stark frequently forgot to eat, and Pepper seldom checked in on him. Laurel began apparating in at different times during the day. She often brought food and left it near his coffee. Usually it was just a sandwich or a small fruit tray, but she delivered other things as well. It embarrassed her to realize that she had observed him so much that she even knew his favorite foods. One of the only things she didn't know was the nature of the drink he usually switched to in the afternoon. It looked dark purple, almost black, through the cloudy Tupperware, and she assumed it was some sort of energy drink. He never looked like he enjoyed the taste, but he religiously chugged large amounts of it every day.
Tony wasn't sure how it had happened that a self-described magical being had apparently taken a liking to him. He had never envisioned such a strange state of affairs, but felt grateful nonetheless. His little game with this invisible creature and the tantalizing information he slowly uncovered proved an excellent distraction from his many worries. In fact, the very thought of his new playmate growing bored and abandoning him sent him into a cold sweat. He knew that he ought to be angry that his privacy was being so flagrantly violated, but the truth was that he thrived under this being's curiosity.
Every day, he came downstairs, telling himself that it wouldn't matter if this was the day no coffee arrived, but the cup always waited faithfully on the counter, rich and hot and fragrant. He couldn't deny that it felt good to have someone care for him, even if it was a stranger, and even if he didn't really understand her motives. But the frequent visits, the snacks that suddenly appeared beside him when he had been working for hours without a break, all these little things comforted him and improved his quality of life. He had always talked to Jarvis, but now he also addressed his unknown visitor. He asked questions, explained his ideas, told stories, made amusing commentary and tempting overtures. Once he even talked about Obadiah.
Sometimes Tony knew someone else was there. He especially experienced this sensation in the evenings, and he preened in the attentive regard of his visitor. He could almost feel the amusement in the air after he made a particularly humorous quip (which happened frequently, if he said so himself).
He knew that he could do more to catch this interloper. Tony had several ideas, but he hesitated to implement them, not wanting to drive her away forever. But he longed to retaliate, and feared she would lose interest if he abandoned all attempts at reprisal. He didn't know which way to lean. At first, he had been relentless in his pursuit, but then he had come to appreciate having her around, and had lowered his efforts considerably. But enough time had passed that he felt a little more secure in her attentions, and so he had started pulling his punches a bit less.
In his mind, this magical being was always a she. Tony supposed that he could be found guilty of gender stereotyping, because he had labeled this creature a female based on the nurturing role she had assumed in his life. He also found the idea of a woman watching him less unsettling than a man. He liked to imagine what she looked like, although he considered his imaginings 'impressions'. His fantasies were so real to him that he would secretly be deeply disappointed if she turned out to be some sort of tentacle monster or other nonhuman creature. Because he could almost see her. Her eyes would be clear and sharp, her smile swift and wicked. Her voice would be posh like Jarvis' and her laughter bright. Her hands would be steady and her fingers nimble. She would be faithful—the daily coffee runs proved that. She would be clever and mischievous, bold and protective and comforting. She would be…all that Pepper wasn't, he thought, and then felt immediately ashamed of the thought. Pepper was the one he wanted. He shouldn't be dreaming about some invisible creature just because he enjoyed the chase…and because he felt like he mattered to her.
At this point in the game, he couldn't dream of telling anyone about his visitor. He had even gone so far as to forbid Jarvis from speaking of his close (and not so close) encounters. And so he began subtly going on the offensive. The motion sensor alarms had done little good, but they had mostly been intended as a diversion. He had continued to leave the cookies out every day, and had noticed that she had taken to eating a couple each time she brought him Starbucks. He suspected that she was just humoring him by accepting the cookies, but he could use that overconfidence against her.
"Never let it be said that Tony Stark can't play the long game," he cackled to himself, slipping back downstairs in the early hours of the morning to replace the cookies with some he had laced with a powerful sedative. She hadn't exactly played fair by tripping that woman in the Starbucks, and turnabout is fair play, after all.
He barely slept the rest of the night due to excitement, and had to avoid popping downstairs way before his usual time. Unfortunately, he hadn't considered the possibility of Happy and Pepper driving over with papers relating to his upcoming court date. When he heard Pepper scream, he bolted down the stairs with only half his goatee trimmed. His heart flew into his throat when he imagined her finding his mystery visitor lying unconscious in his kitchen. The thought of the inevitable questions made him feel strangely protective of his magical stalker. He didn't want Pepper to see her while she was vulnerable. Pepper hadn't earned it.
He nearly burst into hysterical laughter when he saw Happy's familiar form sprawled out next to the dishwasher with a half-eaten cookie in his hand. Tony should have expected this, of course. His magical friend was far too cagey to fall for this trick, despite his attempts to lull her into a false sense of security by the several benign batches of cookies. No, this trick had been far too obvious, he thought, noticing for the first time that this morning's Starbucks cup rested on the counter in its usual spot. He had definitely struck out. His lips quirked when he noticed a post-it on the side of the cup, on which a sardonic 'Nice try' had been scribbled.
Tony had had to do some pretty fast thinking, because it wouldn't do to admit that he was at home playing 'Ghostbusters' while Pepper attended boring meetings on his behalf. He quickly looked away from the cup, not wanting to draw her attention to it and encourage a whole new set of questions.
"Tony, call the police! I think Happy's been poisoned. He's breathing, but he won't wake up," Pepper shrieked, glancing up and noticing him for the first time.
Immediately he was swamped with guilt. "No, Pep. It's nothing serious. I haven't been sleeping well the last few nights, so I laced the cookies with a sedative. I didn't think anyone else would find them," he said contritely.
"You put tranquilizers in the cookies?" she asked incredulously, pale blue eyes widening.
Tony rubbed the unshaven side of his face nervously and moved to squat beside Happy. He eyed a bit of drool that dangled precariously from his head of security's mouth for a few conflicted moments, before finally shrugging, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture. Pepper eyed him in disbelief, outrage at his insensitive behavior broadcast on her pretty, girl-next-door features. Tony lifted Happy, dragging him into his living room by his beefy armpits, and using the change of venue as an opportunity to look away from Pepper's accusing stare. As soon as he got his breath back, and his friend comfortably situated, Tony answered her earlier accusation.
"I thought I could combine a sleep aid with a delicious midnight snack. Might even be a marketable idea, who knows? …Anyway, sorry about Happy. He's become yet another casualty of science…. He can sleep it off on the couch. In three hours, he'll be as good as new…but I'll get someone else to take you back to the office of course," he rambled, trying to school his expression, because disappointment, embarrassment and hilarity were all struggling for primacy, and he wasn't sure which one would win.
"Tony, I just…I don't….You're just so….Sign the papers, Tony. And take care of Happy," she said finally, looking away from him.
In alarm, Tony realized that she had gotten emotional. "Pep, why are you crying? He'll be fine, I promise," he blurted repentantly.
"You just don't get it, Tony!" she exclaimed, swiping her eyes. "You don't think about anybody but yourself. Do you know how scared I was when Happy collapsed? I thought he was going to die! And there you are taking funny photos of him while he's lying unconscious on your kitchen floor. I don't know what to do with you. I really don't. You are so insensitive," she sniffled.
"Pep! Stop! Wait! I can delete the photo….Will that be okay? And I promise not to drug any more food," he exclaimed, dropping the heavy arm that he had been arranging over Happy's chest. It made a muted thud as it hit the side of the sofa.
"It's not about the photo! It's about how you are. I just don't know if I can do this. I don't know how I ever thought I could do this. You're impossible. You just make everything so hard," she ranted tearfully, not noticing how his posture stiffened more and more with each word.
"Pepper, are you dumping me?" he asked, all levity having vanished like mist.
She wiped her eyes with a tissue from the package in her purse, took a shuddering breath and answered tightly, "No, Tony. To dump you would first require being in a real relationship, and I think we both know that you're not capable of one of those….You never have been."
Pepper glanced up at him for the first time since she had started speaking, and felt almost frightened at the look on his face. For a moment, it occurred to her that she had never really known this man. Eyes that had always looked on her with warmth and sunshine were overshadowed with clouds that whispered dark promises of an ice age. He had clenched his jaw so tightly that it looked like a tooth could shatter any moment, and his eyes roiled with such emotions that she ducked her head away, finding herself irrationally unable to look at him.
"We're too entangled with each other to take a break, but I think that you need to gain a sense of responsibility," she murmured woodenly, still staring fixedly at the corner of the glass-topped table.
"Pepper, I am responsible. I'm a full-time superhero, CEO of one of the world's wealthiest companies, and the technological innovator whose inventions keep us in business. I'm a philanthropist, a boyfriend, a public speaker…just how many more responsibilities will I have to take on before I meet your standards?" he demanded, voice raw with outraged hurt.
She sucked in a breath and brushed back a lock of flaming hair. "That's what I'm talking about. You're unreliable, and clearly can't handle the responsibilities you've already taken on, and so I'll be doing you a favor if I remove one of them. If you don't have to worry about being a boyfriend-"
"No! You want to take one of my responsibilities, take on CEO. Be my CEO, Pepper," he suddenly entreated, looking more like himself. Whatever emotional upheaval he had experienced, he had managed to conceal just as quickly.
"Be serious, Tony. I know that this business might not be important to you, but it is to me. I've got to get back to the office," she replied in annoyance, thinking that he was making a joke of her emotions.
"Let me have someone pick you up, or you can take one of my cars," he offered halfheartedly, realizing that she had hardly heard his words, and had valued them even less.
Having rallied her courage and regained her equilibrium, Pepper took the opportunity to get in one last jab. "Don't bother. I sent for a cab. See you at your Expo, Tony," she called, in a shuttered, dismissive voice.
After she left, Tony felt unusually restless. Hurt and outraged pride bubbled in his gut, and he spent a couple of hours in the gym. He ran on the treadmill for over an hour, trying to escape his miserable, disappointed thoughts. He usually opted to jog outside, but wanted to be within earshot of Happy when he awoke.
His thoughts turned, as they often did, to his mystery guest. He felt irrationally angry with her for a moment, and then laughed bitterly at himself. It wasn't the Coffee Bandit's fault that their game had exposed the rotten, hollow center of his relationship with Pepper. But he still resented his magical interloper, because now when he died, and it wouldn't be long, he would be alone. His organs sustained more damage from the poison each day. The shrapnel near his heart was inoperable, which made the arc reactor indispensable. As long as it leeched palladium into his body, he had no chance. And he couldn't do without it. For some reason, no element but palladium would do. Sometimes he felt like standing in the center of his lab and screaming, "Heal me!" to his magical visitor.
But he knew the effort would be futile. Not only would it be desperate and presumptuous, but no one had that kind of power. Tony had several theories on making invisibility and teleportation possible. Those ideas popped up in science fiction all the time, and could conceivably be achieved by men. On the other hand, magically healing the dying fell under the purview of gods.
Perhaps Pepper would forgive him if he made a grand gesture, he reasoned. He toyed with ideas for a while before he heard the unmistakable sound of a groaning Happy heaving his bulk into a sitting position. He hoped the man would be a good sport, because he didn't need another falling out today.
Fortunately, Happy had become inured to his friend's eccentricities and let the whole debacle slide after a few grumbled complaints and a glass of Tony's prized scotch. Pepper made no attempts to get into contact with him, which left him both worried and relieved. Deciding to throw himself into a familiar pursuit, he spent the rest of that day and the next on his plan of attack. This game had begun to feel a bit like a strange courtship, him pursuing her, mutual gift-giving….Tony willed himself to stop thinking about that right now.
He set up his ambush in the lab, where it would be less noticeable than in the kitchen. Tony worked diligently to have everything in place by early afternoon. He sensed the foreign presence much more clearly in the evenings, and so he had planned accordingly. The next morning, he would have either have a captive to question…or a free and very angry supernatural being.
