CHAPTER EIGHT: Late Nights

He woke up to the image of Pepper smiling down at him, hair illuminated a fiery red from the late afternoon light pouring in behind her. It was, quite possibly, the most pleasant awakening Phil Coulson had ever had.

He smiled at her. "Hi," he said, voice scratchy.

"Hi back. You know something?"

He brought up a hand to rub his sleepy eye, realizing for the first time that he must have fallen asleep on the couch after coming home from work. He hadn't even taken off his shoes. "What?" it was more of a moan than a word.

"You are really quiet when you sleep," she observed.

Coulson dropped the hand from his eye and scowled at her, a large smirk tweaking his lips. "You expected a song and dance number?" he joked.

"No," she replied, pulling out the pillow from beneath his head and dropping it on his face in retaliation. She watched as he chuckled his way out from under it and sat up. "But most people move around a little bit, even talk in their sleep. You just laid there like a statue. Not even a mutter. I've been told I flip around a little, sometimes even do a little talking, but you didn't even budge since the time your eyes closed."

Coulson wondered briefly who had told Pepper about her particular habits, even though his brain told him he didn't want to think about it. "I used to talk in my sleep when I was a kid," he said, feeling like he had to defend his status as a normal person for some reason.

"So what changed?"

He hiked his shoulders nonchalantly. "I joined S.H.I.E.L.D."

She smirked and looked at him sarcastically, "And they beat it out of you?"

Coulson tried to force a laugh, but he wasn't fast enough, and the delay spoke for him.

Horror came over Pepper's face. "Oh my god, Phil?"

"It was more like a training exercise."

"Oh my god!" She leapt from her perch on the armrest and turned to face him. "They beat you?"

"Electric shock," he said, like that made it better somehow. He also stood, needing to find a way of repairing what apparent damage he had done by letting that information slip. "It's just this little machine and they hook you up to it at night. You drop the habit within the month and then they take you off of it." He didn't mention the fact that his time on the machine had actually landed somewhere in the two to three month range. Somehow, he didn't think that would help to calm her mind.

Pepper still looked horrified. "That's terrible!"

Coulson shrugged. "S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, particularly those of higher rank, usually carry a lot of sensitive information in their heads. We can't afford to be talkative with our bedfellows at night."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. Coulson just shrugged. His old-fashioned turn of phrase had apparently distracted her from her previous worry, and he was glad to see the anxiety slip from her face. "Your bedfellows?" she repeated, amused. "And have we many of those, mi'lord?"

He smirked at her, slipping his hands coolly into his pockets, but giving no other reply.

Pepper cocked an eyebrow at him, both surprised and impressed by his mildly cheeky response. "Should I have been looking for notches in your bedpost, Agent Coulson?"

He breathed out a small laugh at her connotation. Jutting out his lower lip and hiking his shoulders lightly, Coulson gave a little shake of the head and said, "I think it's the shoulder holster that they find so appealing."

She was beaming at him now. "Oh, among other things, I'm sure." She took a step back and unabashedly appraised him from head to toe with an approving expression.

Coulson bowed his head as he laughed again, this time his face turning a happy shade of red. He rubbed tiny circles into the back of his neck as he smoothly changed the subject. "How long was I out?"

"Well, you got home around three, and it's going on five now so, a couple hours."

Coulson breathed out an exasperated sigh. He looked down at the coffee table and saw the pile of paperwork he had brought home. Ordinarily, he didn't bring his work home with him. He would stay in his office through all hours of the night until all of his work was finished. But today, he had been distracted by thoughts of Pepper. The only way he had been able to justify coming home early was by promising himself that he would be just as productive doing his paperwork at home as he would be at the office. And the first thing he had done when he came home was fall asleep for two hours. Not very efficient.

"You have a lot of work to do?" she asked, noticing his line of vision.

Coulson just nodded as he picked up the pile. "I shouldn't have let myself fall asleep. All of this has to be done by the morning." He walked over to the table and dropped the files onto its surface with a thud.

Pepper followed him as he carefully started organizing the files across the table. She nonchalantly drew her fingers over some of the exposed documents. "Is all of this about Tony?" she asked.

Phil looked over and noticed her actions for the first time. He closed the file she was viewing, and then silently apologized when she turned a slightly hurt expression towards him. "Yes," he answered.

"You still haven't found him?"

Phil sighed and shook his head. "We located his plane in Wichita Kansas, but there was no sign of Mr. Stark or his flight crew. Airport authorities tell us that the plane touched down without authorization from air control, so they sent a group of officials to confront the aircraft. By the time they got there, it had been abandoned. That's about as much as we know."

"So you think Tony is in Kansas?"

"Possibly. Either that, or he bailed ship in the Iron Man suit before the plane landed," Phil answered casually.

There was a silence as Pepper just watched him organize the papers. Her stare was off in another dimension. "Do you think he's okay?"

Phil's busy movements halted and he looked up at her. He could see the worry and fear in her eyes. It took her a few seconds before she could make eye contact with him, and when she finally did, something tugged at his heart strings. There was a part of him that broke at the expression on her face, and there was another part, a quieter part, that wished it were thoughts of him that affected her so deeply. Tony Stark didn't know how lucky he was. But above everything else, Phil just wanted her to smile again. He wanted that look of desperation to be far away from her sweet face.

"I don't know," he answered gently. Then he placed a hand on each of her arms and said, "But I'm going to find him for you, Pepper. I promise."

She seemed comforted by that and gave a relieved sigh. A tiny smile tugged at her lips and she brought a caring hand up to cup the side of his face. "Thank you, Phil."

He wanted to lean into the caress, but he didn't. Instead, he just nodded and then pulled himself out of her grasp. "I really need to get this done," he said by way of explanation, turning to sit at the table and begin his paperwork.

Pepper quietly obliged and left the agent in peace.

Several hours went by and he barely moved from that spot. Pepper sat quietly on the couch and read to herself, faithfully minding his coffee mug and making sure that it was full and warm whenever he needed it.

When the sun slipped completely from the sky and the quartered moon took its place, Pepper's energy was fading quickly. She came up behind him, but he didn't seem to notice. His head was perched against his raised fist, and his eyes remained glued to a page of text. She wordlessly touched his shoulders and started massaging the tense muscles beneath his dress shirt.

The moan from deep within his throat was instantaneous and his head tipped from its perch and rocked forward, exposing his neck to her administrations. She took the hint and moved her hands higher.

"Are you going to get any sleep tonight?" she asked.

Phil moaned again beneath her strong fingers. "What time is it?"

She cast a glance over her shoulder and squinted to read the soft blue display of the microwave in the kitchen. "Almost eleven," she answered.

It was a defeated sigh that came from his lips next as he lifted his head and looked at the remaining pile in front of him. "No, probably not," he lamented.

Pepper sighed too, equally disappointed. "Is there anything I can get you?" she asked, continuing her soothing message.

Phil shook his head, "I'll be fine. Just go to bed. You've already been so sweet to me tonight." With his right hand, he reached up and grasped her left, pulling it from his shoulder and bringing it to his mouth for a thankful kiss.

Pepper's other hand froze.

It had only been the ghost of a kiss, short, tender. His lips were so soft. The kiss was so light. It was so gentle that Pepper almost wouldn't have believed it actually happened were it not for the quiet noise it made and the bolt of lightning that shot through her body in response to it. She was caught off guard by both his action and by her response.

Phil tipped his head back enough to look up at her, and he gave her a gentle smile. "Go to bed, Pepper. It's late," he said again.

Pepper just nodded, stepping away from the table and pulling her hand along with her. "Okay," she said quietly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Sleep well," he replied, and turned back to his file.

Pepper moved hastily to the bedroom and closed the door. She wasn't totally sure what had just happened out there. All she knew was that her hand still tingled from where his lips had touched her. She wasn't sure if it was the gesture or what, but something about it took her completely by surprise. No man had ever kissed her hand before, not even Tony, but it sort of made her feel like a princess. Then again, Phil Coulson was an old fashioned gentleman if Pepper ever saw one, (the man used the word "bedfellows" in everyday language for heaven's sake,) and kissing a woman's hand was just the sort of thing a gentleman might do. That was it and nothing more, just another expression of his manners. Surely he didn't mean anything more by it.

After she had prepared for bed, Pepper opened the door, smiling and waving once at Coulson before climbing into bed. He had moved a small lamp to the table and had turned off all the other lights in the apartment, providing as much darkness for her as he could manage. She smiled at his thoughtfulness as she laid down on her side and watched him. The light from the lamp cast a large, slanted shadow of his profile against the wall. She studied the lines of his face and thought, not for the first time, about how very handsome he was. From the side, his features were strong and cut, it was a stark contrast to the gentleness and smoothness of his personality. She had gotten to see his strong side at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, so she knew there was that facet to him. But the Phil Coulson she was coming to know personally was a kind man, quiet and sincere.

She watched him for almost an hour, closing her eyes whenever he would look her way. He did it eleven times in the course of thirty minutes. Eventually, when he glanced over to the dark doorway, she didn't manage to open her eyes again, and she drifted off to sleep with the gentle rustling of papers and occasional scrapping of his pen as her nighttime lullaby.

There's chapter eight! Let me know what your highlights were (or even the parts you didn't care for so much). I love hearing from you guys! Expect the next chapter soon!