It's Tuesday. More specifically, the first Tuesday of the month, which means spending the day at SI headquarters and herding Tony through meeting after meeting and generally spending the day in closer than usual quarters with him. For the most part this means a relatively calm and productive day for Pepper, one in which Tony – while maybe not particularly content with the generalized boredom – is at the very least kept out of trouble and marginally preoccupied with other things.

This particular first Tuesday of the month, Pepper wishes she could just stay in bed. Better yet, in bed, faking slumber, with the covers pulled up tight over her head. She's dreading facing Tony and seeing his reaction to the letter she'd written him.

What if he's offended? Or worse yet, what if he's not? She's terrified that he'll have another of his Eureka moments and end up saying all the right, grown up things before she's really ready to hear them. What if he pulls back to give her some space and it only highlights the awkwardness in their current work situation?

But not going into work isn't really an option. A preoccupied to the point of oblivious Tony plus her being absent would probably be as subtle as a flashing neon sign to the entire company that something's going on between the CEO and his ever-present girl Friday. She's not sure she can handle the way it might put them both in the fishbowl.

Being practical, Pepper forces herself to go to work, if only because not going could have equally catastrophic implications.

Being practical and possessed of a healthy sense of self-preservation, she arranges to be later than normal in her morning arrival. She figures between the two of them, Jarvis and Happy can get Tony to work on time for one, and then she can slip into the office after Tony's already behind closed doors for the first of his meetings.

If she's lucky, she can sit in her alcove outside his office and avoid facing him until lunch.

The butterflies in her stomach turn into a full fledged migration of the Monarchs as she strides into the lobby of Stark Industries, but she tries not to worry about it. Anyone who knows who she is will chalk her unsettled expression up to running behind her own schedule and perhaps some concern for what her boss might be getting up to in her absence rather than any sort of personal matter.

Not even the elevator offers a respite from glances that feel heavier than they are. It's ridiculous that she feels this exhilarated and vulnerable. It's the same feeling she gets during earthquakes – alive, unsure, and slightly nauseous. She chews the inside of her lip and watches as floor after floor comes and goes, as passengers come and go, and marvels at this face that she and Tony seem to take turns wearing for the world around them. She mentioned it in the letter she wrote him, the first time she saw the face for what it was – so perhaps it's only appropriate that she wear it now. After all, the ball's effectively in his court now. Maybe. At the very least they're going to be on what passes for a level playing field.

It isn't until Pepper rounds the corner and sees Tony leaning against her desk, arms crossed over his chest and an impassive look on his face that she realizes that the one thing Tony Stark has probably never in his life played on is a level field.

Tony, from what she can she is most definitely preoccupied. He's staring so intently at the toes of his shoes that he doesn't notice her deer in the headlights routine. She's grateful; it gives her time to compose herself as her heart jolts into a fast, uncomfortable rhythm.

Pulling a composed mask on over the apprehension that's been distracted but not dismissed, Pepper restarts herself, walking towards her desk before someone comes by and notices her staring longingly at her boss.

Turbo would be so proud, she thinks ruefully.

"You are supposed to be in a meeting with the reps from Entek International." Tony's head rises at the sound of her voice. "In fact, you should be elbow deep in shop talk about batteries, those breathable membranes you're so interested in for the suit, and the advent of energy packs."

"Yeah. They're in there right now, chewing the fat." Tony nods towards his closed office doors. "I wanted to talk to you a minute before I went in and joined them."

"About?" Pepper swerves around him without making eye contact. She doesn't understand his behavior. He's not flippant, or amused, or anything that resembles good natured. He doesn't look angry or embarrassed either. He's not upset is he? He's the one who demanded honesty, who wanted to start transforming what existed between them.

He can't change his mind now that she's starting to give in to the culmination of a decade's worth of friendship, co-dependence, and completely tactless honesty. Even socially clueless Tony can't be jerking her around like this deliberately.

"Those contracts you left for me last night, Potts? Did you leave them all with me?" Tony straightens a stack of file folders on the corner of her desk, then drums his fingers over them nervously.

Pepper hesitates before answering. "As far as I know. Why?" Had she been so distracted by that damn letter (that he hasn't mentioned yet) that she forgot something? "Are some of the papers for the Entek presentation missing? I thought I left all the sample proposals on your desk last week –"

"You did! The reps are looking them over now. It's just…."

"What then…?" Tony looks far more uncomfortable than her questions should merit. Which means this probably isn't actually about work. Pepper seals her lips and pins Tony with a hard look. She's used to waiting him out, staring at him until he spills his guts. Now she does it out of self-preservation, because if he doesn't say something soon she's going to scream.

Fortunately it doesn't take long. While they're both uncomfortable, it seems that for once Pepper is hiding it better. It's enough of an upper hand that Tony is practically sweating.

When he glances down at the pile of folders next to him, Pepper gets a premonition of what's going to happen next. Tony will pull out the file folder with her letter in it, he'll hand it back to her, and make up some story to cover up the fact that her reciprocal honesty has scared him off.

It happens. Tony pulls out an unlabeled file; Pepper watches it, unable to tear her eyes away. She waits to hear Tony tell her that he's not ready, that he's overwhelmed, that he's sorry she misinterpreted, that he'd been drunk –

"I think some personal stuff got mixed in with your papers by mistake." He sounds…defensive as he continues to stand there and offer her the folder. "Either that or folders got switched and you may have filed some of what we need away in the wrong section. That's why I asked about other paperwork. This isn't what you meant to give me."

The words are so different than what she'd been bracing herself for that Pepper momentarily doesn't understand. "I'm sorry?"

"This isn't Entek stuff. Don't worry, though, I didn't read it."

"You didn't read it –" The bottom falls out of Pepper' stomach at the words. Somewhere someone absolutely sadistic is having a very long laugh at her expense.

"At least, not past the first few words. I know you place more importance on privacy than I do, and I didn't want to make you angry by reading one of your narratives without your permission –"

"One of my what?" Pepper's…horrified. How does he know about her stories?

"Your writing." Tony looks confused, as if this is a conversation they've had a thousand times and she's simply forgotten. "The stuff you work on during breaks sometimes. It's not Xbox or anything. But hey to each their own, right?"

If they'd had this conversation before, she would have quit before dying of embarrassment at his feet. She's not dead, so ergo they've never had this conversation. So what is he talking about? "Wait. You think I write stories? About myself I mean?"

Tony opens his mouth to answer…then closes it slowly as an emotion she ought to be able to identify flashes through his eyes. It's there and gone too quickly though, leaving her feeling as if she's been asked to put together a puzzle without a picture to guide her.

She's missing something that would explain everything about the last week if only she knew what it was.

"No. No, of course not. If one of us were going to start writing stories about themself, it'd be me. Everyone knows that. And I'd get a tell-all book deal first. You know, an obscene amount of money for all the obscene details. Did I mention I'm supposed to be in a meeting right now?" He keeps holding out that file folder, waiting for her to take it back. It's rock steady in his hand, and that more than anything is proof he really hasn't read it.

"Tony –"

"I'm trying to be a gentleman, Pepper!"

"I noticed." What he'd said about trying to value her privacy, about not taking advantage of what he saw as a mistake… Yeah, she knew. It disarms the better part of her suspicions. After all, her letter was written more in the style of a story than a traditional correspondence. It hadn't been addressed specifically to him. And his trying to do the right thing might account for his being so uncomfortable.

It made sense that he'd want to protect the small gains they'd made towards a relationship that was something more than what they had now. It's also, ironically not, her 'get out of jail free card', should she want it.

The awkwardness on his face though, is final proof that scared or not, she really doesn't.

"Thank you…thank you for trying." Pepper lays her hand over his wrist, the silk of his shirt and the wool of his suit coat between his skin and hers which wasn't enough of a barrier to conceal the heat rolling off his body. He trembles under her gentle touch, and she knows that in this single moment she has every ounce of his focus.

He doesn't say her name. Instead he locks his brown eyes on her and she lets herself be caught by them. Not fighting the draw between them is strange, and new, and totally unfamiliar, but Pepper can feel her heart slowing, pulse calming under the influence of his gaze. Hell, she can feel his pulse slowing under her fingertips.

Pepper doesn't know how long they exist in that bubble of silence and…communion, just that it can't last as long as she'd like. There are businessmen waiting for him in his office and probably more correspondence than she's going to be able to reply to since she spent most of the previous afternoon as a nervous wreck. Wetting her lips – a movement he tracks with an intensity that threatens to steal her breath – she manages to murmur. "It's not a story, Tony. It's a letter. It was written for you and you should read it. Later. You have my permission. When you're not supposed to be talking about saving lives and creating a better future with the men waiting in your office."

"One of them's a woman."

"Oh."

They've been reduced to the most simple of observations and exchanges. Pepper lets her hand fall away from his arm before they lose all hope of functioning as highly ranked members of the workforce.

"Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?" Tony gives her another one of those looks that she doesn't know how to interpret before stepping away. "Okay then. Entek and breathable membranes."

Pepper nods silently as Tony walks towards the doors of his office, the file folder in his hand tapping impatiently against his thigh. He glances at her once last time before stepping through the doors to the executive office.

A shallow, shuddering breath slips past Pepper's lips; it carries most of her mental confusion with it, strangely enough. She's even able to sit down at her desk, stow away her purse and briefcase, and log in to her SI account.

Huh, she thinks as she opens up Outlook.

This might actually work.

The reps from Entek leave. Tony sees them out, talking about battery separators, the best local food, and college football. Before disappearing back into his office, he gives her an intense, Don't Move kind of look.

Pepper breathes out shakily once he closes the doors to his office. He's supposed to use the time before his next meeting to review the meeting with the reps and give his impression of what they discussed and whether or not he can see a partnership with the company profiting both parties. However, if he was going to do that, he would have called her in after him to take notes on his thoughts and opinions. As she is sitting out here in the outer offices and he is cloistered away, she has to assume that he's going to read the letter she'd written instead. Before his curiosity did in the both of them.

Their afternoon schedule was going to be shot. She should have waited until the end of the business day to return it to him.

Anticipation and, well, dread, make Pepper squirm in her seat. Between yesterday and today, this is probably one of the rare weeks when Tony will actually get more work done than she will. She's barely made a dent on her inbox, and there's a pile of reports growing on her desk that need to be read and summarized for Tony's consumption, and she's having a hard time tearing her eyes away from the closed door of his office.

If this is any indication of how the rest of the day is going to go, she might as well go home now. She hasn't gotten anything important done yet, and doubts she will until she knows that Tony's read her letter and knows what his response is.

If he actually responds right away instead of taking some time to digest things.

This is ridiculous. She left high school behind long ago. This sort of angst should be illegal for a woman her age. Whatever happened to working? Forget the end of the day – she should have given him the letter at the beginning of the weekend.

"…to Pepper…come in, Pepper…" Pepper swivels in her chair to face her desk again, to find Rhodey leaning against it with a bemused look on his face. "How bad?"

"How bad is what?" How long has he been standing there?

"The wunderkind"

"Tony? Tony's fine."

"I didn't ask how Tony was, I asked how bad whatever he's done is."

"Oh. Well… He's behind where I want him to be." It's the truth at least. Between Tony and Turbo, her world is becoming hard enough to keep track of without lying to Rhodey. Who will surely eventually compare notes with Tony.

"Fantastic. A perfect excuse. Let's go out to lunch then."

Pepper glances back at the door to the executive office. "Tony's supposed to –"

"Not you, me, and Tony. You and me. You look like you need a break. Leave the catch up stuff to him."

Her relief at the offer is shamefully palpable. "I…yeah I'd like that." Getting out of the office awhile would be a relief. Anything is better than sitting waiting for Tony's damned door to open.

"Great!" Rhodey does a courtesy knock on Tony's door before Pepper can stop him (she'd hoped they could just sneak out without Tony protesting). Rhodes she can hear well as he informs Tony he's kidnapping her and Tony's not invited. Tony's words she can't hear, but he sounds…distracted. More distracted than normal.

The thought that he might be, probably, in all likelihood, is reading her letter right now makes Pepper reach for her purse. She's standing next to the double doors that lead into the office space before Rhodey turns and closes the doors behind him.

"What's up with him?" Rhodey asks as he joins her. "I don't think he heard me at all. I didn't even get his 'Danger, trespassers will be prosecuted' look."

"He's…working. So where do you want to go?" Pepper nudges him out the door, and does her best to change the subject. "I'm buying."

"Depends. What are you in the mood for?"

They end up at Electric Karma, one of Pepper's favorite Indian restaurants. It's closer to her condo than it is to the office, but her day is shot anyway and Rhodes says he doesn't mind the commute. They get a small table for two in the bar area. Before their server can walk away after leaving their menus, Pepper puts in an order for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. It gets Rhodey's attention – sharpens Rhodey's attention – but Pepper doesn't care.

One glass of wine is not going to hurt anything. Especially if she ignores the thought that it was a bottle of beer (followed by two others) that ostensibly got her into this situation.

"So…" Rhodey serves them both from the appetizer platter, a type of spicy pancake with a coconut dip. "What's up with you and Tony?"

"I don't know what you mean." Pepper's reply is instantaneous, and absolutely the wrong thing to say. Not only had her companion's tone been that of a man on a fishing expedition, but if nothing had changed between her and Tony then there wouldn't have been a need to define what was between them. Because until recently, nothing had changed. The correct answer was "Same old," or "The usual," or the more ambiguous "What do you think?"

It's the look. Pepper isn't used to being the cynosure of that silent, slightly brooding look. Makes her feel like a cadet. Or Tony. When he's misbehaving.

"You're flustered." Rhodes is still using that bland tone.

She makes a face at him. "I was late this morning. To work." The qualifier shouldn't be necessary, but Pepper can't tell what he's thinking and doesn't want him making assumptions.

"That explains you. Doesn't explain Tony."

Pepper leans back into her chair and examines Rhodes. After a few seconds of study she sighs and deflates a bit. "He told you." Of course Tony had blabbed to Rhodey about their most recent "near kiss." Tony avoids personal drama at all costs, and Rhodey's too pragmatic to put up with any personal drama of his own, but put the two of them together in the same room and they become a pair of chatty, 70 year old yentas.

"Yeah but don't feel too bad about it, Pepper. I essentially dragged the story out of him."

She nods at that. Not sure what to say at the moment. She settles on sighing deeply, and reaching up to rub before her eyes for a moment with thumb and pointer finger.

"It's just…" She doesn't even know what to say. "I don't know where I stand with him," Pepper finally confesses, because that is the root of the problem. Tony's whole "gentleman" act would be understandable if he would at least make a move on her (or let her act on the moves she'd tried to put on him). It's clear that he wants something from her – that little talk in his shop about patience, and relationships, and what constituted rejection confirmed that. But neither of them has put anything into words – or at least neither of them had until she wrote that letter he should be done reading by now. (But her phone hasn't rung, so maybe he hasn't?)

"He's not shy about what he wants." Pepper pins Rhodey with a hard look. "It says something, doesn't it? That what he wants is this nebulous, nameless, thing that is real enough to reduce us both to monosyllables but..."

She shakes her head and takes a deep drink from her wineglass.

Rhodes lips quirk a little. "I suppose that depends on the situation he's found himself in, Pepper. Your assumption he isn't ever shy isn't entirely accurate." He must read Pepper's face accurately – the words 'like hell' are at the forefront of her mind – because he makes a face. "Shy may not be the right word…perhaps 'out of his depth'

He sighs, clearly struggling to put what's in his head into comprehensible sentences. "Pepper...what – if anything – has he ever told you about his relationship with his parents? And I'm not talking about stuff that would go into corporate sound bites. I'm talking about real, one on one, personal kind of things."

"I know he loved them," Pepper manages, wondering where exactly this was going.

"Of course he did. What kid doesn't – well unless they're being whaled on or something…which fortunately he wasn't. He may have been roughed up a bit at boarding school, but his folks…" He shrugs his shoulders, both uncomfortable and helpless. "To quote Tony in vino veritas, here... 'They were busy, though Mom liked showing me off at parties and Dad loved it when we did math together.'" He shrugs almost helplessly. "Can a parent buy their kid literally everything and still be guilty of neglect?"

Pepper just looks at him, silent.

"Do you know why we ended up dorm mates at MIT?"

She shakes his head.

"Best as I could tell, the RA was worried he was lonely. This was before he really took off on the booze and women mind you, back when he was...fifteen or sixteen. Granted he'd already started his career as a smart ass…probably a self-defensive habit. Didn't want to be labeled a geek. But seriously how does any kid learn to be a kid when he's got no friends in boarding school because intellectually at least he thinks aeons ahead of all the other people around him? Especially if mom and dad – or tutors or whoever else he may have been shoved off on when he wasn't building – didn't give two fucks about helping him grow up emotionally?

"Tony knows machines, Pepper. It's been his whole life his whole life. People...healthy relationships? He's got maybe half a clue. So yes…shy…or maybe flying blind is a better way to put it."

Pepper fiddles with a piece of bread, shredding it rather than eating it, but then her brain is too busy consuming Rhodey's...insight. On some level she's always know that Tony doesn't relate to people well, and that there's numerous reasons for it. Some being personal, some being monetary, some being intellectual... She could make a longer list if she cared to. But she's also always felt as if she had a pretty good understanding of Tony. That after all these years that he'd run out of any major surprises.

This whole Iron Man thing had been a surprise, but not a surprise surprise, at least not after she'd gotten something resembling the truth out of him.

What she says to Rhodey is, "I'm not made of glass." And it probably makes no sense to him, but it does to her. Because it feels like Tony's treating her with kid gloves after a decade of allowing her to play catch-up, and it's giving her a headache.

The Tony she's been expecting is the Tony who asks her dance and then doesn't give her a chance to turn him down. Because having time to think is giving them both headaches.

"You're not the only one off kilter here, Pepper. That's all that I'm saying."

"I know that." The words come off more snapish than she means for them to, but she's getting the distinct feeling the one Rhodes is feeling more pity for right now is...Tony?

Though maybe that's actually not such a bad thing, a part of her whispers. After all, with her…compromised…by all of this maybe its good someone other than just her is looking out for his interests in this whole, messy…thing.

"Damn it," she mutters. It would have been so much easier if he'd just been a little less...scalded cat. If she'd actually managed to kiss him. But damn it that probably just the estrogen talking again.

She'd think about killing this bottle of wine by herself over lunch, then going home, because how many times has Tony gotten drunk and blown off whatever he was supposed to be doing? But there's that letter, and if she's drunk, nothing is going to happen. Tony's proved that once.

Hell, maybe she'll go home and finally give Turbo that robot tentacle sex he's been talking about.

Her life is so messed up.

"Tony thought I wrote a story about him," she mumbles, because this at least shifts the conversation back to being about how weird Tony is.

Rhodes tilts his head in reply, eyebrow raised in silent question.

She nods. "I pray to God he never wises up to the existence of rpf Tony Stark fanfiction."

"Wow. Those are some pretty technical terms you're tossing out."

Pepper shakes her head. "Did you know that the week after I started working for Tony, PR sent me a list of websites to check for slanderous material? As if he was going to care? Then they sent me another one after the 'I am Iron Man' announcement. In other words, I know far too much about how John Q. Public sees Tony Stark."

Rhodes snorts. "At least the fan produced media about him and Iron Man is more...gentle than the press's."

"I somehow doubt Tony would agree."

Rhodey shrugs. "I didn't hear any whining. He liked the stuff on a site named starknekkid that I sent him."

"You sent him a link to a fan site." Pepper doesn't make it a question. She's too busy panicking. Fandom is a small place. A small, interconnected place.

"Yeah. I send him funny or embarrassing shit I find about him occasionally. Call it personal revenge for all the crap he gives me."

Pepper refills her wine glass, because drunk is starting to look like a nicer and nicer state to exist in. Because fandom is a small place, and she spends her night talking to a "T" who claims to have a somewhat significant other named "V". And who knows that Pepper's first name is actually Virginia and that she was a cheerleader in high school.

And she's insane.

And Tony had assumed she wrote stories about them.

And she is insane.

Pepper takes a deep breath. "How has fighting fire with fire worked for you so far?"

A/N: so…not dead. To be specific, neither I, no 4persephone, or this story is dead. I know that the break between chapters has been inexcusable here, but that's life, I suppose. Just know that we're dedicated to getting this story finished.

Fun facts: 1) Entek is a real place. It's actually down the road from where I live, and it's where my brother-in-law works. They make components for batteries, which seems to line up with the thought that arc reactors are mini batteries. 2) I'm totally evil and you haven't seen the letter from Pepper to Tony yet, but you will. It's written, along with part of the next chapter. So yay? 3) Thanks so much to everyone who has kept reviewing and sending story alerts for this fic, because that was one of my motivating factors for working on this last night with 4persephone. Ya'll guilted me into it. It will not be another year before you see an update here.