A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews! :-)

Chapter 2: Tony Stark Praises "Pepper" Potts

"Mr Stark? I wanted to run something by you."

Virginia (or Pepper, as she was now called by pretty much everybody, ever since her boss had first introduced her as "my new assistant, Ms ... um ... Pepper Spray Potts ... Yeah, Pepper Potts, that works") had been working as Tony Stark's personal assistant for about a month and a half. Frankly, she still wasn't entirely sure that she had made the right decision in accepting his job offer, but she was still here finding her rhythm and proving most people wrong about her.

All in all, the job was a challenge, it was true, but she was kind of enjoying it. Despite herself, she had taken a liking to her eccentric boss and had been pleasantly surprised when he had kept to his word and not treated her inappropriately at all. Other than that, he didn't exactly make her life easy, but for some reason, she still enjoyed coming to work every day.

At this moment, she was standing in front of Mr Stark as he emerged from behind a car in his workshop downstairs. She hadn't been allowed down there for the first couple of weeks of her job and had been instructed to call him on the intercom if she ever needed him. This system had annoyed her, as he would often ignore the buzzing or claim to be unable to hear it over his music.

She had finally lost her temper, stormed down against his will and knocked on the glass door until he had looked up and come over to let her in.

"I thought I told you to buzz me," he said mildly as he punched in the code on his side of the door.

"I did, but you weren't answering."

He gave a sigh.

"Yeah, well I would have eventually. I'm busy."

Trying to curb her annoyance, she had said calmly, "I need to be able to get hold of you, Mr Stark. For instance, you've been called to an emergency meeting because there was a malfunction on one of your freight carriers and some kind of explosion. You need to meet Mr Stane now. It couldn't wait."

Still looking generally unphased, he said, "Look, this place is the one place I go to escape, okay? No-one comes down here except me."

"Didn't you hear anything else I just said?"

"Yes, I did, I'm coming."

They had reached the living room when she suddenly said, "I'm supposed to be taking care of you. You're going to have to let me do my job properly."

He eyed her without a word and then vanished upstairs to shower the grease off his face and change into something more presentable. By the time he had come down, he seemed to have changed his mind.

"The car's out front," she told him.

"Thank you, Ms Potts. The code is 8669."

"What code?"

"To my workshop."

And he had swept out without another word.

Ever since then, she had come down to speak to him whenever she needed to and he had not said a word against it. In fact, they hadn't even mentioned it again.

But that was still why she was feeling a bit hesitant at the moment, the first time she had sought to see him on her own agenda.

"What's up?"

He was rubbing his hands on a rag, but seemed generally good humoured. That was a relief; he was often a bit distracted or moody when he had been in his workshop too long.

"Well, do you remember a few days ago, you asked me to sort through your family's art collection?"

"Yep. You done?"

"Yes, I've got it all catalogued and valued, and I took a proper look at it last night. It's quite an impressive collection."

"Yeah? I haven't seen any of them in years."

He sauntered out so that he could lean against the front of his car and stare at her. She swallowed uncertainly.

"I had an idea, you see," she said.

"Let's hear it."

He was much calmer than she was.

"Well, I don't know how much you read about, you know, the cultural industry in the area?"

"Nothing at all."

She blinked and found herself fighting a smile.

"Well, the industry's taken a bit of a knock lately," she said carefully. "It's lost popularity and funding. We have several talented artists and good quality galleries, but they're not getting any support. Many of the galleries are on the point of closing down due to bankruptcy."

He was studying her with a mild expression.

"Anyway, the thing is that you're a popular person in the community, and you have this fantastic collection that is just gathering dust and mourning its loss of cultural significance and I think we could use it to help the situation."

His face had broken into a grin.

"I mean, I know you don't have a great interest in this kind of thing, but I always have ... And I really think we have a great opportunity to help the situation."

"Okay," he said. "Go for it."

She gave a small frown.

"Go for ... what?"

"Whatever you have in mind, do it."

"Um ..." she mumbled, and then hesitated. "Don't you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I'd love to hear it," he said, suddenly pushing himself off the car and strolling over to his mini fridge. "Drink?"

"No, thank you," she said, following in his wake.

"Well, what's the idea then, Ms Potts?" he asked, smiling at her as he poured himself a scotch.

She explained her idea for the event to him then, watching as he considered her with mild interest. He asked the odd curious question, but did not offer any corrections or objections at all. When she had finished, he shrugged and said, "Sounds great. Let me know when and where."

"Do you have ... anything you don't agree with, or any thoughts-"

"This is your event, not mine." He gulped the last of his drink down. "Do whatever you think will work."

Taken aback by this blatant display of trust in her abilities, she managed to sputter out a, "Thank you," amidst a happy smile that she couldn't keep in.

"I'm sure I'll be thanking you," he replied politely. "It'll be good publicity." Then he added, "Oh, I did want to ask, your interest in art ... Is it something you would enjoy pursuing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if we're going to share my art collection with the world, I'd need someone to curate it. You interested?"

She felt a thrill of excitement.

"Really? I mean, I don't have a degree in art or anything, I only took a couple of courses whenever I could-"

"But you'd like that?"

"Very much so, yes," she said, grinning at him.

"Great, do it. I think it might be nice for me to learn a bit about it myself."

"Well, you could start by looking at what you already have," she suggested, trying to smother the slight sarcasm that coloured her words.

His grin, however, told her she hadn't managed.

"Fantastic idea. You can take me on a tour once you have it sorted out."

"With pleasure."

There was another moment as they smiled at each other. She felt warm and happy and an odd new rush of affection for the man in front of her. For the first time, she was suddenly completely content with her job. Already, her mind was buzzing with plans and ideas, and an odd excitement at the knowledge that she had the resources and the authority to carry them out. All because, for some reason, Tony Stark had decided he liked her.

She wanted to express her gratitude to him, but she somehow sensed that any further thanks might make things uncomfortable. So instead she opted for her usual polite mode of departure.

"Anything else I can do for you, Mr Stark?"

"No, that's all, Ms Potts, thank you."

x x x

A/N: Thanks for reading! I must say I find it a challenge writing these earlier interactions and keeping them in character, seeing as obviously I'm only familiar with them much later. Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think.