Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. All others belong to me, particularly Cedric, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
*evil grin* You trust me, don't you? Yes, the boat names are jokes; one should be fairly obvious, but the other is truly obscure, so don't strain your brain.
Cincoflex puts up with my whining, my insecurities, and my procrastinating. There is no better beta, or friend.
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Tony rested his chin on his fist and stared at his computer screen. Despite the light coming over his shoulders from his office windows, he was tired, and that made it hard to concentrate.
It had been a long week. He'd had not one but two missions, heavy ones, though without much physical injury; a minor crisis with the teletonics division and a sudden spasm of worrywarting on the board had sent him into endless meetings that had made his strained muscles ache more despite his ability to slump in almost any chair.
Even without the bruises and bumps, flying the suit for a great length of time still left him stiff all down his spine.
It was an inherent flaw in the human form, he had eventually decided. We just aren't designed to fly. The most aerodynamic position for flight was belly-down, but to see where he was going without installing a helmet-cam meant Tony had to keep his head tilted back, which eventually threw everything out of whack from the base of his skull down.
Of course, he could let Jarvis handle things, and on occasion he did lower his head and relax for a bit, but it went against the grain...
It was a good thing, he thought wearily, that he had a massage scheduled for the evening. Tim had hands half again as large as Tony's own with equal fineness of touch, and charged an obscene rate, and Tony would have paid him triple that without blinking because the man could untie knots that Tony didn't know he even had.
And, used to working for eccentric celebrities, Tim never questioned why he was only allowed to enter the room when Tony was already lying on the table, nor why he never worked on Tony's front. Tony sometimes got the feeling that he personally was a lot less difficult to work with than some of Tim's other clients, despite those eccentricities.
But even a good massage couldn't take away all his fatigue. Tony knew he was stressed, and Friday or not, he was just about done in.
Sighing, he closed the files he was staring at and sat back. Right now he didn't know what he wanted more--a nap, a drink, or that backrub.
Or quality time with my fiancée. And not the kind of time most would suspect. He'd barely seen Pepper all week, and he missed her.
As if summoned--or maybe it was just her perfect sense of timing--a brisk rap on the door heralded Pepper's entrance. She held a demitasse and a thick folder.
"My hero," Tony said, eyes fixed on the cup. "You brought me caffeine."
"And memos," Pepper agreed, halting just to the left of his chair and handing him the cup. The folder she placed on his desk, opening it so that the first page confronted him. "Sign them all now and I have a surprise for you."
Tony paused in his absorption of blessedly hot espresso and raised his brows. "Is it the dirty kind of surprise? Because I saw you with that lingerie catalog last week..."
Pepper gave him her trademark haughty look. "No, and sign first."
Tossing back the last of the coffee, Tony took the pen she was holding out and obeyed. Most of it was mindless, the sort of bureaucratic paperwork that required no thought, but he paid attention anyway because Pepper wasn't above slapping his hand if she thought he was skipping something he should actually read.
Pepper remained, leaning back against the edge of his desk, and since she'd left his door open partways Tony let his left hand wander up to her outer hip, just resting there in a touch more familiar than intimate.
When he'd finished signing, he tossed down the pen, flipped the folder shut, and looked up at her. "Done. Gimme."
She smiled down at him. "I've moved Tim's appointment up to 3 p.m., and the yacht is scheduled to leave at 6. The estimated return time is Sunday evening."
"Sweet!" Tony sat up, energized. "Pack your bikini, Potts." The idea of having Pepper mostly to himself for plus-two days was very alluring.
Pepper hesitated. "I was planning on meeting you tomorrow, actually--"
"Absolutely not," Tony said firmly. "You've been working just as hard as me--harder, really. You need a break too." He took her hand in his, fingers finding the engagement band in a silent signal. It was loose now, but Pepper was scrupulous, and never took it off in public.
"Well--all right, I think I can move things around." Pepper bit her lip, then nodded absently.
"Good. Bikini. Don't forget." Tony lifted her hand palm outward so that he could brush a kiss over her fingertips.
Her hand quivered in his before she pulled it deftly away. "I don't own one. Don't forget to stock up on sunscreen, or I'll have to stay in the cabin all weekend."
Pepper scooped up the folder and the demitasse and slipped gracefully away, leaving Tony to rock back in his chair and grin. "I can solve that problem, Pepper, what color would you like?"
She didn't deign to answer, merely closing the door behind her. Tony sighed, pleased, and wondered if she would actually wear one if he got it for her.
Five hours later they were chasing the sunset out on the open water, the sea breeze washing away Tony's fatigue and whipping color into Pepper's cheeks. The Y Not? was small and required only a crew of three, but it was nonetheless the last word in luxury, if not quite technology.
Tony leaned against the rail and watched the wind tangling Pepper's hair as she looked dreamily out to sea. She would never admit it, but Pepper loved the ocean as much as he did, which was one of the things he loved about her.
He stroked his hand along the glossy rail, remembering again. He owned a much larger yacht; the Epsilon Indi III was a successor to the one his parents had sailed for many years. And the bigger boat had seen much more use in recent years, its many staterooms and numerous staff making it much better suited for the sort of parties he'd been in the habit of throwing.
But the Y Not? had been a gift from Tony's parents, which was why he hadn't traded it in on a newer model. And it was perfect for a weekend getaway.
"Hungry?" he asked finally, and Pepper turned to look at him, her mussed hair a charming contrast to her business suit. Her eyes were sparkling.
"Getting there," she said cheerfully. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yep." The massage had eased his kinked muscles, and while Tony still felt tired, he was much more relaxed. "Do you want to eat on board, or wait until we get to Avalon?"
"Oh, let's have a snack now." Pepper stepped back from the rail and turned towards the low table and chairs set out on the deck. "I'll ask Jacques."
Tony watched her go to find the steward, and stretched, yawning a little. Her gait seemed a bit off, but that was because she had already removed her shoes and stockings, and that told him that she felt herself to be off the clock, at least mostly. One of the effects that being on the water seemed to have on Pepper was to make her want to go barefoot.
Not that Tony minded. As much as he loved the way her heels shaped Pepper's stance and walk, the sight of her bare feet always did something pleasurable to his middle, something that partook equally of lust and protectiveness.
He went to take a seat, stretching out his legs and enjoying the view. I haven't done this in too long. It was hard to make time for relaxing, these days, and his newfound conscience wouldn't let him ignore as many duties as he once had. But Pepper could hardly have picked a better day to start their mini-vacation, and Tony deliberately shoved away the thought of duty. Knowing Pepper, she had informed Stark Industries that they were to be contacted only in case of emergency.
Pepper returned within moments, taking a chair next to his with a sigh that spoke of the same relaxation. Soon after, Jacques appeared with a champagne bucket and two glasses. Judging from Pepper's blink, she hadn't ordered the aperitif, but Tony nodded in approval, and the steward opened the bottle deftly. After pouring, he disappeared again, returning with a tray of crudites and other nibbles, which he slid onto the table.
Tony sipped his champagne and watched Pepper select something to munch. Jacques, Captain Petrov, and the cook Honey were all long-time employees, and appeared to be glad to have something to do again. "Tell Honey we'll be eating on shore tonight, but we'll need at least breakfast and lunch tomorrow," Tony instructed the steward, who nodded and left.
"What do you have in mind for tomorrow?" Pepper asked.
Tony shrugged, and leaned forward to capture a shrimp puff. "You said you wanted to go snorkeling. Or if the weather's not right for that, we can go find someplace to surf."
She shook her head, smiling. "Tony, this break is supposed to be for you."
"For us," he corrected, catching her eyes. "Like I said, you've been working too hard too. You deserve the time, Pepper."
Unexpectedly she pinkened, and looked away. Tony ate his puff, not sure what this change in their dynamic meant. Normally she would brush him off with some statement of how he wasn't paying her to take a vacation, but that sort of riposte had disappeared during the last six months.
He thought her blush was a hopeful sign, but he wasn't sure.
"We'll see," she said finally, and drank more champagne. Tony had to wonder if it was his attention specifically that troubled her, or just if after so many years spent taking care of him practically twenty-four-seven she was out of the habit of letting herself be cared for in turn.
Be fair. It's not something you've done a lot of.
Well, he was willing to put in the practice, if only she would let him.
Pepper set down her glass. "I'll be right back," she murmured, and stood.
Tony finished his champagne, put his glass next to hers, and stared at the sunset, waiting for her to return. The colors made his eyes ache, so he closed them.
"Tony..."
The voice was low and laughing, but he didn't want to wake. Tony held still, grumpily hoping it would go away, but a hand shook his shoulder.
"Rise and shine, Mr. Stark. We're here."
Groaning, he summoned speech. "Go away, Potts, I'm asleep." In fact, he was actually quite cozy, wrapped in something warm.
"No, you're hungry. I could let you sleep out on deck all night but you wouldn't thank me in the morning."
Tony pried one eye open. Pepper stood over him, lit more by artificial light than the last streaks of color in the sky, and now dressed in slacks and a curve-hugging sweater. Her hair was brushed smooth and lay on her shoulders in a glossy fall, and her eyes were alive with mirth.
"I could just stay here," he suggested. "And you could feed me. You know, grapes and stuff."
She shook her head. "You're hard enough to deal with now, Mr. Stark. I'd rather not let you get a cold." She bent down, and then ripped his blanket away with a flourish. "Come on. Dinnertime."
The chill was acute. Tony grabbed for the blanket, missed, and pushed to his feet, grumbling. "I need to piss."
Apparently unfazed by his bad mood, Pepper merely stepped back, folding the blanket neatly. "Just don't do it over the side."
Relieving his bladder helped Tony's state of mind slightly, but he grimaced at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. The light in the yacht's head never showed anyone to the best advantage, but at the moment he felt old as well as tired, his head aching a little. He rinsed out his mouth and told himself it was just the fact that he hadn't eaten, on top of the weariness, but he wasn't sure he believed it.
But the way Pepper smiled when she saw him come out chased away some of the drag. She held out a hand. "Shall we?"
Dinner turned out to be great. Tony made Pepper choose the restaurant, so they had local seafood at a place known more for its menu than its ambience. If anyone recognized Tony, they had the grace to keep it to themselves, though the low light and the back table probably helped, and Tony stuffed himself on fresh fish and watched Pepper delicately pick apart a lobster.
It was good to just share a meal with her, far away from the pressure of their lives, he realized, sipping from his wineglass and laughing at the story Pepper was telling about a comedy of errors at her first job. Tony reached across the table and took her hand in his; not interrupting her story, just holding on. The ring was cool and textured under his thumb, and he listened and smiled and pretended that it was all real.
We have two days. I'm going to make the most of them.
The next day was sunny and warm and perfect for snorkeling. Tony woke feeling much more relaxed than he had in weeks, and found Pepper already up on deck, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and a huge, silly, floppy hat. "Honey's making breakfast," she said when he emerged. "Did you sleep well?"
He nodded and sat down next to her. Their engagement ruse had required a bit of subterfuge, but they had sent the crew ashore the night before to sleep on land and Pepper had taken the guest cabin next to the master cabin, leaving enough of her possessions in his room to make it look as though they were sharing it. The guest cabin was to remain locked whenever the crew was on board, with the excuse that Tony had brought along a project that needed to remain secret. Petrov and the others, used to his eccentricities, hadn't even blinked.
"I thought you were on vacation," he said mildly, nodding towards the laptop she was holding.
Pepper shrugged. "Just sorting e-mail." She closed the computer and set it aside as Jacques appeared with the coffeepot.
As the steward poured, the yacht's engine started up. "Captain Petrov says we should reach our destination in about twenty minutes," Jacques said, straightening.
Tony considered, then shook his head. "Tell him to take the long way. It's a nice day, we might as well enjoy it."
Jacques nodded and left, and as the yacht pulled away from the dock Tony sipped his coffee, looking forward to the morning.
Pepper yawned and stretched, a process that fascinated Tony; her clothes were modest, but the way she arched her arms and back pulled the cloth taut and displayed her assets nicely. Tony sighed to himself, and smiled into his cup, because just about any other woman would have done it on purpose. Pepper, he suspected, just didn't consider the effect she might be having on him.
He wasn't sure whether to be insulted, or flattered that she trusted him that much.
Jacques came back with breakfast and set it out on the low table, omelets and toast and fresh fruit, delicious smells mixing with the breeze as the Y Not? cleared the dock area and headed towards more open water. Pepper thanked him with a smile, and Jacques gave her his tiny bow and disappeared again.
Tony leaned forward to fill his plate, watching Pepper do the same. It felt good, this leisurely time; peaceful. They ate in easy silence, taking their time, and Tony couldn't help imagining it as a habit rather than a single event--a common way to spend the weekend when they got too overwhelmed, taking the time to just be together, far from distraction and work.
"Too bad we can't stay out here forever," he commented as he finished his omelet.
Pepper smirked, sipping coffee. "You'd be bored silly in three days."
She was right, but he didn't have to admit it. "I beg to differ, Ms. Potts. I'm already silly." When she glanced over at him, he crossed his eyes and wiggled his ears, scrunching up his mouth. She sputtered into her cup, and he relaxed and grinned.
"I didn't know you could do that." Pepper wiped her mouth with her napkin. "With your ears, I mean."
Tony shrugged. "I'm just naturally talented." He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't known how; even when small he'd realized it was a good way to impress people, particularly girls.
She grinned. "Yeah, but can you kiss your elbow?"
Tony scoffed. "That's a myth, Potts, nobody can do that."
"I beg to differ," she mocked, and...did. Tony's eyes widened as Pepper lifted her left arm and bent it at an impossible angle, letting her lips touch the delicate point of her elbow.
Half of his mind was screaming that she'd broken her arm, and the other half was absolutely boggled. "That is one of theweirdest things I've ever seen," he marveled. "And the coolest. How did you do that?"
Pepper straightened her arm and shrugged. "I'm double-jointed. Though I can only do it on that side." Her smile was teasing. "My grandmother used to tell me that it was a sign of fairy blood."
"I could see that," Tony said, regarding her. Pepper's beauty wasn't what he'd call unearthly, but she'd definitely enchanted him.
Pepper's ears pinkened, and she poured him more coffee. "I'm going to go change clothes."
She stood, leaving her hat on the chair, and Tony sipped from his cup and watched her go, smirking at the thought of the three bikinis he'd left on her bed. Black, white, and green. Plenty to choose from.
Much to his disappointment, when he returned to the stateroom to change, Pepper had chosen none of them, and was instead dressed in a simple navy one-piece maillot--not the most modest suit he'd ever seen, but still too practical for his tastes. Tony pulled his shirt off over his head, and Pepper paused with her hand on the door handle. "What are you going to do about that?" she asked, nodding towards his arc implant. "It'll show through a wet shirt."
Tony raised a brow. "Ye of little faith, Potts." Opening a drawer, he took out a circle of metal no wider than his palm. "Observe."
He snapped it into place over the reactor, blocking the glow neatly. Tony opened his hands, inviting comment, and Pepper smiled.
"Very clever. Is it watertight?"
"Not really." Tony tapped it. "But that doesn't matter, the reactor seal is."
Her lips twisted a little. "The implant will still be visible when you get out of the water."
He shrugged, resigned. "There's nothing I can do about that, but we should be pretty private where we're going. It's not like anyone will be able to tell what the lump under my shirt is, anyway."
"True." Pepper's expression still seemed slightly sad, but she pulled down the handle. "I'll meet you on deck."
Tony spun so his back was to the door, just in case Jacques was in the passageway; when he heard the latch close, he rummaged for his swim shorts and a loose black t-shirt.
Pepper was rubbing sunscreen onto her arms when he made it back on deck, and Tony grinned at the sight, coming up behind her to pluck the tube from her grip. "Here, let me help you with that."
"Tony--" She glanced back at him, surprised, and he winked and squirted a generous amount of the cream into his palm.
"Hold still." Applying sunscreen to a woman's skin was a familiar task, and Tony had often made it foreplay; but this time he kept it light, massaging the lotion into the exposed skin of Pepper's back and neck, feeling the wings of her shoulderblades under his palms but not lingering. It was fun to slide the tips of his fingers just under the edge of her suit and feel her skin pebble up, and when he was finished with her back Tony went to one knee behind her to cover the backs of her legs as well.
"I can do that myself," Pepper protested as he stroked his hands down the length of her thighs, and Tony snickered.
"And deprive me of my fun? No way." He'd yearned for years to explore Pepper's legs, and while this wasn't quite what he'd envisioned, it was still an opportunity to be savored. Her skin was sleek and cool, and the gentle curve of her bottom so close tempted him to lean in and nibble, but Tony behaved himself--even if the image of her jump and squeak of outrage was nearly irresistible.
He did permit himself a quick kiss on the nape of her neck when he rose, though. "All done."
Pepper turned and raised a brow. "Your turn then."
"Sure." He handed her the tube and stood waiting. Pepper's lips tightened, but she took the silent challenge, and to his pleasure she squeezed out a dollop and started with his arms. First one, then the other was stroked by her strong hands, and Tony realized he might have made a slight miscalculation as his body took a very eager interest. But he didn't move, letting Pepper finish.
She circled behind him and did his legs as well, rubbing vigorously, and Tony held still and tried to regulate his breathing. When she came back around, Pepper smeared a generous streak across his cheekbones. "Rub that in," she told him, and capped the tube.
He complied. Pepper went to the rail as the Y Not? slowed to a stop in a quiet cove just off the island. Tony didn't snorkel often, but he knew it for an excellent spot, one not known to many tourists.
They spent a glorious morning in the water. There was plenty to see and enjoy, and they took their time, cruising along the surface and taking in whatever came their way. It didn't surprise him when they quickly devised their own system of hand signals, most of which meant "look at this"; and even though he couldn't see her smiling Tony could tell Pepper was enjoying herself. She was an alluring sight underwater, her lithe form outlined with light and her hair floating around her head, and Tony thought he could see where the old ideas of mermaids came from--unearthly beauty from the depths of the ocean.
Lunch was ready when they climbed back on board the yacht, and they ate on deck in the sunshine, letting the breeze dry them. Pepper looked wonderful above water too, her face a little pink despite the sunscreen and her lips slightly swollen from the snorkel, but her eyes bright.
It was after lunch, when she was finishing her lemonade, that he saw the little launch approaching. The flash of sun on glass alerted Tony to the camera pointed in their direction--one large enough to have a telephoto lens.
"Press off the port bow, Potts," he murmured, taking the glass from her hand and setting it aside before rolling over onto her chaise. Captain Petrov would soon chase them off, he knew, but in the meantime-- "We need to make this look good."
Her swimsuit was cool and still a bit slick under his fingers as Tony spread his hand over her side and slid it up towards her breast. Pepper inhaled, but before she could say anything he covered her mouth with his, letting no more than a squeak escape.
He could kiss her forever, that was always the first thing that came to mind beyond the sheer bliss of her skin. Kissing Pepper made him feel as though there was nothing else in the universe of any importance, and this time was no different as her lips parted for him and her body, half-pinned beneath his, arched a little against him.
One small part of Tony's mind hoped that the paparazzi were getting some good shots, but that was about all the rational thought he was managing, because Pepper's heat and softness were soaking into him and his brain was rapidly shutting down. Her mouth tasted of lemonade and her own special flavor, sweet and indescribable, and he let himself go. Her breast filled his hand perfectly, and the gasp she made against his lips made his blood run hot.
He was vaguely aware of Petrov's bellow, of the roar of a motor fading, but it was far more important to take in all he could of the woman pressed against him. Her eager mouth, her hand cupping the back of his neck made him all the hungrier; greedy, bordering on desperate, Tony felt her nipple stiffen against his palm, and pressed closer still, sliding one leg between hers. Pepper was his only conscious thought as her scent filled his nose, Pepper, finally--
Then her hand fell away, and suddenly he was rocking back, startled and off-balance from her shove. Pepper squirmed out from under him, eyes wild.
"Pepper?" he said stupidly, still dazed, but she didn't look at him. Instead she slid to the edge of the chaise and sat up.
He reached for her, but she stood quickly, glancing back at him. "No," she hissed quietly, and fled with quick steps into the cabin. Tony was about to push to his feet and pursue when he heard Jacques greet Pepper, and he sat back abruptly. Chasing her would only draw the attention of the crew, and while he supposed a lover's spat wasn't out of the question, the ensuing argument was not something he wanted anyone to overhear.
Instinct screamed at him to run after her, but Tony stayed where he was, dizzy and angry and, he realized, hurt. He clenched his fists, trying to calm his overeager body and his flaring temper. What the hell was that?
It wasn't as though he'd been forcing her. She'd been startled at first, sure, but then more than compliant--she'd been kissing him back with a great deal of enthusiasm. And while Tony's brain acknowledged that it was a woman's right to say no at any point, his body and his pride were harder to convince.
If she had been anyone else--if he'd been the man he was before Afghanistan--he would have stormed away, written her off as a tease, had a good sulk and then gone looking for the next lovely lady. But she wasn't, and he wasn't. And Pepper was neither malicious nor capricious.
Letting out a sharp breath, Tony lay down again, tucking an arm under his head and trying to relax. She had to have a reason to act like that. And he would go find out what it was in a few minutes, when he could walk past the crew in his swim shorts without embarrassing anyone.
It would take that long to master his emotions, anyway.
Ten minutes later Tony was standing outside the connecting door in the master suite, which was firmly closed. He knocked, hard. "Pepper?"
"I'm working, Mr. Stark." Her voice was cold and only slightly muffled by the door. Tony's mouth tightened, and he sighed, and punched the override code into the door.
Pepper wasn't working; she was huddled up on her bunk, arms around her knees and her eyes widening in outrage as the door swung open. Tony held up a hand. "I'm not coming in. But we need to talk."
"There's nothing to say." Her face closed down into the set blank he usually only saw when she was furious or deeply upset.
"The hell there isn't. Why did you run away, Pepper?" He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe, hoping it would be enough; he wasn't going to enter the room without her permission, but it would be harder to force her to talk from a distance.
"I didn't run away. I went to my cabin." Her lifted chin defied him, and Tony sighed again.
"Semantics, Ms. Potts. I expected better from you."
"Better than what? Than letting my boss grope me in public?" Her cheeks, which had flushed at his touches, were white now.
"We agreed--" Tony started, but she cut him off.
"We agreed to public displays of affection, but that went far beyond what was necessary. You didn't..."
Pepper trailed off. "Stop?" Tony supplied softly. "I didn't want to, and neither did you."
She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. "Don't bother, Pepper." He rubbed his fingers against his palm, revisiting the memory. "I could feel you. And smell you. You wanted that just as much as I did."
He kept his voice even, not wanting her to think he was taunting her. In fact, the knowledge was exhilarating.
Pepper's face went scarlet, the color spreading up from her throat a startling contrast to the paleness of moments before, and the expression in her eyes...Tony felt a wave of cold break over him as he put a name to it.
Shame.
"You don't have to rub my nose in it," she said, almost inaudible.
Tony gaped at her. "I'm not. Pepper, I--"
She shook her head. "This is turning into a farce. Let it go, Mr. Stark. You'll be free to return to your old habits soon enough, but in the meantime I won't be a...a substitute."
She was so wrong, about so many things, that Tony couldn't find the words to start explaining. As he struggled, Pepper unfolded herself and stood up, half-running towards the little head on the far side of the room.
"Pepper--Pepper, wait, let me--" But he was too late. The door closed firmly behind her, and the words clotted on his tongue.
And because he'd promised, he couldn't set foot across the threshold.
Pepper didn't come out for dinner, merely calling up to inform Honey politely that she wasn't feeling well. Tony ate alone, or tried to; his appetite was minimal. His stomach was a tangled knot of anger, frustration, and guilt.
Doesn't she trust me? I haven't touched another woman since I got back. He'd been telling Pepper for months that she was the only woman he wanted, but apparently he hadn't been explicit enough.
His conscience pointed out mercilessly that a few months of attention wasn't much to stack up against his years of promiscuity. He'd flirted with Pepper all that time, too, and it wasn't as though he hadn't wanted her; but both of them had known, without saying a word, that he needed her more as an assistant than a one-night stand. And so they'd never stepped outside the boundaries.
She'd never let him, really. Which was just one of the reasons he loved her, that prudence that balanced his own impulsiveness.
Tony left most of his dinner on his plate and retreated to the night-shadowed deck with the whiskey decanter and a glass, to stare up at the stars and wait for Pepper to come out as Petrov sailed them back to port. But the crew left for shore before she emerged, and sleep got the better of Tony.
He woke late in the morning with a dry mouth, and a thick blanket weighing him down on the chaise. And when he went looking for Pepper, Jacques told him regretfully that Ms. Potts had left early that morning, chartering a helicopter flight back to the mainland. Something about a sudden crisis at Stark Industries, so sorry, Mr. Stark...
Tony wondered what the hell Pepper thought she was doing. She has to face me eventually. He considered going right after her, but the day was already half gone, and with a cool resolve mixed with faint anger, Tony decided to wait.
Let her run. It just gives me more time to plan.