CHAPTER THREE: The Arrival
It didn't take long for the young agent to get everything written down. After depositing Pepper at Coulson's office, she turned rapidly and vanished, the deadline he had given her obviously lighting a fire behind her movements. (S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, apparently, were all very adept at turning on their heels.)
Coulson smiled at Pepper when she entered his office. He told her to make herself comfortable as he returned to his own work. Pepper was glad for the respite and settled into the stiff couch across from his desk. She pulled out her phone. It wasn't ideal, but at least she could get some of her work done without her computer. Coulson stayed silent at his own desk, occasionally calling a junior agent into his office to give them some instruction or have them run a file for him. Pepper was mostly distracted by her own tasks, but still managed to quietly observe the man as he worked.
She admired his diligence and the way he treated his subordinates. He was authoritative and yet cordial at the same time, having a no-nonsense attitude without being overly gruff. It caused the other agents to respond with the appropriate level of efficiency and respect, and maybe a hint of terror too. Pepper could certainly relate to that. She had a particular reputation for being capable of charming you and bending you to her will at the same time. It was a delicate balance of pleasantness and severity, and Agent Coulson likewise seemed to be a master of it.
There was also something about his mild attitude that impressed her, in light of the day's events. He still had a layer of dust coating the shoulders of his jacket from where a building had literally crumbled around him, and yet he acted as if it was just another day at the office. Pepper felt she could learn something from this man. He was the very image of composure in the midst of chaos.
The two hours passed faster than either workaholic had realized, and Agent Wycliff was soon knocking on Coulson's door. After only a little more delay, Coulson and Pepper were making their way to the parking garage.
He glanced over at her as they walked down the long line of cars. She looked up and caught his eye, causing him to look away sharply. He clicked the button on his key chain and the tail lights of a nearby Acura blinked in response.
"This you?" she asked.
"Well, for now. My car's still at Stark Industries. This is a loan."
"Right," she said. She was surprised when he didn't go directly to the driver's side, but followed her to the passenger's door instead. He grabbed the handle, and paused. Something was obviously bothering him. She cocked her brow at him questioningly.
Coulson heard the unspoken question. "We could have that looked at, before we go," he said.
"What?" she asked.
He looked pointedly at her shoulder. He had been subtly watching the bruise darken all day, and the skin from where she had been thrown into the wall from the explosion was now a deep purplish gray. Coulson couldn't keep himself from bringing it up any longer. "We have the best medical staff in the world," he went on, "made up of the finest thinkers and practitioners in their fields."
Pepper looked down at her arm with an air of dismissal. "Oh, I'm sure that's not necessary. I've had bruises before, Agent Coulson. It looks worse than it feels, believe me."
Coulson turned his gaze once more to her shoulder and hesitated, his expression still unconvinced. But in the end, he decided to drop the issue and he opened the car door for her.
The ride to his apartment was quiet. He told her that she could choose a radio station if she wanted, but she said she was fine. Coulson gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he suddenly felt a wave of awkward wash over him. He tried to remember the last time he had a woman over to his apartment...
Coulson quickly cut that calculation off in his head. He changed his mind. He didn't want to know. Besides, that wasn't why he was bringing Pepper to his place anyway (even if she was admittedly very beautiful, and he was admittedly very overdue).
He tried to remember in what condition he had left his apartment last. He hadn't stepped foot in there in over a month, having returned from a brief assignment last week, and then spending two nights in medical for standard evaluation. Then he had spent the last couple of nights on the sofa in his office because it was just easier that way. Had he made the bed in his apartment before his mission? Surely he would have. Right?
When they arrived, Coulson insisted on retrieving the two boxes of Pepper's things from his trunk and carrying them himself. Perhaps she wasn't worried about her shoulder, but Coulson knew that it couldn't be as comfortable for her as she claimed. They climbed the three flights of stairs and then Coulson fished out his keys to open the door. (Ordinarily, he would draw his weapon at this point and do a thorough sweep of his apartment as soon as he entered, but the point of this whole thing was to make Pepper feel safe here, so he decided against it this time.)
She watched him with an amused smile. He was so awkward, fumbling with his keys, not making eye contact. He was acting almost shy and Pepper simply added it to the new-versions-of-Agent-Coulson list she was experiencing that day.
When the door swung inward, Coulson stepped into the apartment and kicked aside the small pile of mail that had accumulated in front of the door. He flipped a light switch, and then stood with his back against the door, holding it open for her. "Please come in," he said, holding the boxes to the side to give her room to enter.
As she walked slowly in, Coulson tried to gauge her reaction. There was a small, almost wistful smile on her face as she took in her surroundings. The air smelled thick with dust, and Coulson scrunched his nose in embarrassment. He let the door close behind them and locked it after he set the boxes down.
"Please, uh, please make yourself at home," he welcomed, pulling out his phone and silently activating an app. It was standard on all S.H.I.E.L.D. phones. It swept the area for anything potentially compromising, basically collecting the energy signals of anything within a thousand square feet that ran off of an electric power source. If anyone had been in that apartment and planted some kind of bug, he would know about it in just a minute.
He returned the phone to his pocket once the app was running and followed Pepper into the living area. Looking around at his meager apartment and furnishings, he was suddenly (and oddly) reminded of Stark's great wealth. He had never personally been to the billionaire's mansion, but he was certain it was probably most impressive. Coulson cleared his throat and mentally shook away the unsolicited comparison. "Uh...living room," he said, gesturing across the room with a sweeping hand.
Pepper's smile was still in place as she nodded. It was sparsely decorated, with a sofa and coffee table in the middle of the floor, a medium-sized TV against the wall, and a vintage record player by the window. A small bookcase housed several books, a few movies, and had about a dozen records pinned between it and the record player. There was only one effort of decoration in the entire room and it hung on the wall directly across from the entryway. It was a painting of Boston's skyline at night, fastened onto a large piece of wood with hammer and nails. It was a simple living room, but there was an elegance to the simplicity, too. Pepper liked it.
Coulson walked farther in and pointed to a small table, flanked by three chairs, under another window. "Eating area." Walking a little farther, "Um, kitchen."
Pepper poked her head around the corner and took in the kitchen. It was small, but had nice finishings on the counters and cabinets, and all of the appliances were up-to-date. It was also remarkably tidy. Pepper was a neat freak, but she didn't even think her kitchen was this clean. It looked like it was ready for a magazine shoot. She nodded approvingly.
"And, uh," Coulson pointed and crossed the living room to the opposite wall. Pepper quietly followed. He opened a door and turned on the light, not going in all the way.
Pepper met him in the doorway and looked inside. It was his bedroom. A large dresser took up most of one wall and the queen-sized bed took up the opposite. The bed was perfectly made, with the blankets and pillows (an assortment of dark reds and blues) looking plush and comfortable. Pepper looked up at him and her smile intensified when he pinched his lips together and immediately looked away. She was sure she saw his cheeks redden slightly, and Pepper found it utterly charming.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and then pulled the door closed again. "And, uh, the living room," he finished, turning quickly away from the bedroom. Wait, said that one already, he realized, and then proceeded to feel stupid.
His phone dinged in his pocket, alerting him that it was finished sweeping for bugs. He glanced at the screen and confirmed that the place was clean. "Like I said, make yourself at home," he repeated.
"And the bathroom?" she asked.
"Oh," he jutted a thumb back behind him. "Right off the bedroom."
Pepper nodded mildly as she turned to look once more at the cozy living room. "It's very nice," she finally said.
Coulson knew it was the polite thing for her to say, so he replied with the appropriately polite response, "Thank you."
He watched her as she walked over to his bookcase and crouched to view the titles. "It suits my needs," he went on, shoving his hands into his pockets casually. She looked up at him and he smirked. "I go out of town a lot."
She smiled back at him, grateful that he wasn't acting so awkward now. Though, she must admit that she found it secretly adorable.
"Are you hungry?" he asked after a while of letting her peruse his books and movies. "I could make us something."
Pepper wasn't going to mention it but, yes, she was rather hungry. She had been planning on grabbing lunch after her meeting with Coulson, but that obviously hadn't happened. Now it was going on five o'clock, and she was famished. "Dinner sounds wonderful, actually," she answered.
"Great, I'll see what we've got." He turned and walked into his kitchen.
Please have food, please have food, he silently begged, opening his refrigerator and peering inside.
"Damn," he said quietly. The refrigerator was bare except for a plastic bottle of half-drunk champagne left over from New Year's, a canister of shredded parmesan cheese, and a nondescript wad of tinfoil he was pretty sure held a stick of butter at one time.
He broadened his search to include the cabinets and found a box of microwavable popcorn. Does popcorn have an expiration date? he wondered as he checked the wrapping. It looked fine, so he threw it in the microwave and hit the popcorn button. Then, confirming that the rest of his kitchen was essentially empty, he gave up.
Pepper had retrieved a book and taken it to the couch to do some reading. She liked Orson Scott Card, but had never heard of his book Empire. She was almost through the first chapter when she heard Coulson returning from the kitchen. She looked up, expecting him to be holding a meal of some kind, and had to keep from laughing when she saw a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a telephone book in the other.
He smiled sheepishly. "Looks like I need to go to the grocery store," he said, sitting beside her on the couch and laying open the book on the coffee table. He grabbed a few kernels and tossed them into his mouth before flipping the phonebook to a familiar page. "All of these places deliver," he said and shoved the book lightly to her side of the table.
Thanks for reading! The next chapter should be up soon. Looking forward to your feedback on this one!