Hello dear readers! Believe it or not, we're closing in on the final chapters of this story. Just one more to go! I have really enjoyed writing this story and getting to share it with you. I also appreciate all the feedback I've received on this. I hope you enjoy this chapter and, as always, be sure to let me know what you think!

CHAPTER TWELVE: Man to Man

Coulson drew his pen across the page in a sloppy signature. It was only the fourth of several documents that needed to be signed before he could end his work day. The tired agent sighed as he thumbed through the generous pile of paperwork. This was going to be a long night. "Come in," he said when he heard the knock.

Agent Barton opened the door and stepped into the office. "I was just about to head out for the night, but Hill told me to bring you this." He reached out to place another file onto the other agent's desk. "It's the updated list of the victims from the Discarded attack a couple weeks ago. Reports from their recovery are all in there."

"Oh, good," Coulson said, flipping the new file open and instantly starting to scan the list of names, obviously looking for one in particular.

Barton watched his superior's movements knowingly. After a moment, he clarified, "She's not in there, sir."

Coulson looked up in surprise. "Who isn't?" he asked innocently.

"Pepper Potts. She is the person you were looking for, isn't she?"

Coulson laid the file down on his desk, patting the open pages and smoothing his hands over them as he stammered out an answer, "Oh no, uh, I was just, you know, a standard headcount is all." That wasn't even a proper sentence, and Coulson knew it. He inwardly kicked himself for being so obvious. Get it together, Phil, he chastised. A second later, he was fully composed again and in control of his expressions.

Barton just hiked his shoulders. "Since she wasn't technically one of the hostages, her name is excluded from the list. Although, the file of collateral effects from the encounter should have her information. I didn't realize that until after the victims' report had been assembled. Otherwise, I would have amended it."

Coulson nodded. "I see," he said, his tone exhibiting his customary coolness and control once again, even though something clenched at his gut when Pepper was referred to as collateral anything. "It's not a problem. I am sure I can call down and get an update from one of the medical staff if I want to inquire about Miss Potts." Coulson glanced over at the phone on his desk. He didn't feel like mentioning to Barton that he had already tried a dozen times in the past two weeks to pick up that phone and call the medical ward. And he didn't feel like mentioning how he lost his nerve every time, or how he never made it past receptions. He must have hung up on at least three different nurses. He just couldn't do it. In the days following the accident, Coulson couldn't bring himself to contact her, and every day that passed made that phone a little heavier in his hand. After a while, he stopped trying.

Coulson sighed and looked down at the file, actually taking a moment to read through the names this time. These people deserved consideration too, and Coulson knew that.

"I'm kind of surprised you haven't been down to see her already." The words were coming out of his mouth before Barton really noticed they were there (that happened to him a lot), and Coulson was soon lifting his gaze up to the other agent.

Surprise registered on the senior agent's face. He wasn't so shocked by the comment itself, just that Barton had possessed the nerve to actually say it. "And why does that surprise you?" Coulson challenged after a pause. His voice was level even as his mouth displayed his customary smirk. He waited for Barton to answer, and wondered how bold the archer would be now.

"It's just been a couple weeks now," Barton began, after taking a moment to choose his phrasing. "I would have expected you to find at least one day for it."

"I haven't been to visit any of the victims from that case," Coulson pointed out.

"True, but I thought..."

The agent at the desk arched a brow.

"I just thought Miss Potts might be a unique case, considering the assignment you had before the battle."

Coulson nodded slowly. That had actually been a suitable recovery from Barton. The senior agent looked back down to his original pile of documents and swallowed once, placing his signature on another page. "Well, I've been regretfully busy as of late."

There was a slight pause as Barton quietly conceded. Then he added, "Well, in case you were wondering, she's doing better. Woke up a couple days ago and has been talking and everything."

Coulson snapped his head up to the other man again. "You've seen her?" For the briefest of moments, Phil's façade slipped and his hunger for news was evident on his face. Clearing his throat quietly, he pulled his expression back into a look of passive inquisitiveness.

Barton nodded gently.

"And...she's on the mend?" Coulson tried to let the words sound mild, like he gave her the same consideration he gave the other victims. Sincere, but not particularly attached.

Again, Barton nodded, "Yes sir."

Relief washed over Coulson's heart, but he tried not to let the waves hit his face. "That's good," he said with a nod. "I'm glad to hear it. Thank you for the update, agent." He returned his gaze to his desk as he signed another document and moved it to the back of the pile.

Barton hesitated by the door, unsure if he should say any more. But he could tell Coulson was only pretending to read the page beneath him. The man's head was slightly inclined towards the door, like he expected and wanted to hear more.

Barton couldn't say he really understood his superior in all of this. If the man cared so much, it didn't make sense that he should keep himself hulled up in his office instead of going to see her. But, the two agents had drastically different ways of handling women and relationships. Why should this case be any different?

"She's been asking about you," Barton informed a moment later.

Coulson's jaw clenched slightly and his pen trailed off of the page in a moment of clumsy penmanship. He wasn't sure if he was glad or anxious to hear that. "Oh really?" he asked, again in a painstakingly controlled tone. "Perhaps I should send her some flowers or something."

Again, Barton hesitated. The hell you should, the marksman replied inwardly. Now Coulson was just being ridiculous. The younger agent was about to voice as much, but for one of those rare moments in Clint Barton's life, he thought before he spoke. Coulson was not the sort of man to wear his heart on his sleeve, with anything. The fact that he was this transparent about a woman meant that the situation was serious enough to elicit the change in the agent's careful personality. Clint wasn't sure how Coulson had managed to stay away from the woman for so long, but he obviously felt the need to keep his distance. And that need was probably connected somehow to a particular genius who spent his free time in a red and gold suit of titanium alloy. Barton knew his superior was in a tight spot, and the man didn't deserve to be ridiculed in that moment.

Barton sighed. "Look...maybe it's none of my business, sir, but...I think she would probably welcome a visit."

Coulson paused, his pen poised above the next awaiting signature line. He tapped the end of the writing utensil into his other hand and twisted it thoughtfully back and forth in his fingers. Personally, he didn't know if he could handle seeing Pepper right now. He still remembered what his own voice felt like in his throat as he ordered her to "stay in the car, Pepper." It was a miracle that car hadn't become a coffin to the poor woman, and the look on her face as she wailed and reached a desperate, bloody hand towards him was still an image that visited him every night. Seeing her in a hospital bed, knowing he sent her there...it just might be too much for him.

And what could he possibly say to her? "I'm sorry?" While that was certainly true, Coulson was equally certain that it wouldn't be enough. Even if he said it a thousand times and in a thousand different ways, he knew he almost killed her, and "I'm sorry" could never redeem that mistake.

Coulson sighed deeply and looked back up at Barton, realizing for the first time that he still hadn't given the other agent an answer. Coulson forced a smile, and wondered if the tears were visible in his eyes yet. "Maybe," was all he could say.

Barton solemnly nodded and then backed out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Coulson dropped the pen noisily onto the desk and dropped his face into his hands.

Two days later, Coulson couldn't explain what had finally driven him to this point, standing in an elevator, a bouquet of white daisies in his hand, descending the four floors to the medical ward of S.H.I.E.L.D. head quarters; but as the elevator bell chimed, he knew it didn't matter what compelled him. He was finally there. It was time to do this.

When the doors whished open, two of the nurses at the receptions desk halted their conversation briefly to look up and see who it was. Suddenly aware of how he must look, Coulson let his arm drop by his side, allowing the flowers to hang upside down haphazardly by his leg. He knew most of these people, having been in and out of the operation and recovery rooms himself more times than he'd care to count, and he didn't want any of the medical staff getting a false impression about him and Pepper. He had to try to pull this visit off without looking like a boyfriend.

He waltzed up to the desk as casually as he could and drummed his fingers on the counter, flashing a restrained smile at the two ladies.

"Agent Coulson, what can we do for you?" the blonde asked.

"I'm looking for Miss Potts' room?" he inquired, wondering if he should try to give an explanation. But before he could add anything, the blonde was already answering him.

"Oh, of course," she said, typing Pepper's name into the computer.

There was something about the way she had said "of course" that Coulson didn't really like. But he thought it would make it worse if he protested too much. The nurse gave him the room number and soon, Coulson was walking down a familiar hallway.

As he drew closer to room 218, Coulson felt the pit in his stomach grow heavier. He was hopeful that she would be asleep and he could just quietly leave his flowers for her to find. He had tried to rehearse something to say to her, but none of his attempts did justice to what he wanted to express. But that was fine. He would be satisfied if all he got to do was look at her and see that she was okay.

The door to room 218 was open, and as Phil traveled farther down the hallway, he could see Pepper's hospital bed come into view through the doorway. His heart beat a little faster and a small smile of relief graced his face as he saw her for the first time in weeks.

She was asleep. There was a breathing tube in her nose and several IVs attached at her arms. Her face was still slightly bruised, but Phil could see her chest rise and fall in healthy breaths. There was color in her cheeks, and the heart monitor by her bed let out the occasional, reassuring beep. She was alive.

Coulson approached the doorway and his smile dropped as a second figure came into view in the room. A tired and disheveled Tony Stark was keeping vigil by the bed, leaning forward to rest his mouth against his fisted hands. He watched her, steadily. He didn't blink. He looked to be about twenty years older than he actually was, sleep deprived and distracted from everything in the world, except Pepper.

The seat Tony filled was one that came with a heavy burden of worry, and the man was shrinking beneath it. Gone was the rampant partier who took spur-of-the-moment trips to Atlantic City. Gone was the successful billionaire who had more money than Midas and was not shy about flaunting it. And gone was the national hero who was well on his way to privatizing global security. No, this man was broken. There was a depth in his eyes that was rarely seen there. He was desperate. He was afraid. He was in love.

Coulson gulped once at that realization. There, in front of his very eyes, was a man in love. Coulson had struggled in the past to see Tony Stark as anything more than a professional asset, a mild acquaintance, or a source of personal aggravation. But the agent recognized the look in Tony's eyes now. That was a powerful look. Coulson had seen it in the mirror once or twice before, and it spoke volumes. A good man knew to respect such a look, and Coulson was a good man.

Pepper started to stir in her sleep as something got caught in her throat. She was thrown into a fit of coughs, her brow caving into a scowl from the discomfort of the involuntary movements. Coulson instinctively moved closer, but halted when he saw that Tony was handling it. The billionaire was on his feet in an instant and reaching a hand to the back of her head as she struggled to cough away the disturbance.

"Shhh, shhh easy," Tony soothed, helping her sit up slightly and grabbing a nearby paper cup. "Here you go sweetheart, take a drink." Cradling her head gently, he tipped the cup against her lips and helped her take a tiny sip of water.

The water seemed to help and Pepper was soon calming down again, having never even opened her eyes. He laid her against the pillow again, tenderly stroking the backs of his fingers across her forehead. "There you go. That's it. Now try to sleep a little more, okay?" He drew his fingers across her cheek and Pepper nuzzled into them gently, giving a small nod.

"Okay," Tony replied. "I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Coulson stood in the doorway, unable to move. It was the most sincere he had ever seen Tony Stark, and the tone in his voice was so totally honest. Coulson believed him. He believed that he wouldn't go anywhere. By the looks of it, Tony had already spent many days and nights by that bed, but the meaning of that promise went beyond the literal. Tony truly wanted to take care of Pepper, and Coulson was caught off guard by how relieved he was to realize that.

The agent looked back at Pepper as she drifted further back into her medicated slumber. There was still a part of Coulson that wanted to be her hero, wanted to be the one to take care of her and love her and keep her safe; but there was another part that felt the guilt he had predicted, seeing her lying in that hospital bed. He had tried to protect her once before, and this was where it had brought her. Watching Stark deal with her now, in the uninhibited honesty of assumed privacy, Coulson was able to see how this man, for all him pomp and childishness, truly did love Pepper Potts. He would take care of her, perhaps even better than Coulson himself could. That thought was humbling to the agent, but also strangely encouraging.

Convinced he had seen enough, Coulson quietly started to back away. But something about the movement suddenly caught the peripheral eye of the man by the bed and Tony looked up sharply. Coulson was caught. He smiled in greeting.

"Agent Coulson," Tony whispered, standing from his seat and walking around the hospital bed to extend his hand towards the agent. "Appreciate you coming. She'll be excited to see you."

Coulson stepped into the room and shook the other man's hand. "I just came to drop these off," he whispered in reply, lifting the flowers into view. "But it looks like someone already beat me to it, or...several someones." He hadn't noticed them before, but the room was littered with flowers and balloons. They ranged in size and variety, but each display was beautiful and they painted a pleasant fragrance onto the air of the hospital room.

Tony nodded and turned to look at the many vases. He pointed at each of them and started to identify the senders, "Happy. Rhodey. The mayor. Congressman Ryles. District attorney. My attorney. VP. A couple others."

Coulson's brows rose subtly. All of the sudden, his modest bouquet of daisies felt piddling amongst such grand presents. He looked down at the fist full of flowers. "Well," he said, "I didn't think to get a vase."

Tony glanced again to the various other arrangements and was soon grabbing the bouquet from the Vice President and throwing it in the trash. Once again, Coulson's brow climbed in surprise at the gesture.

Stark saw the agent's reaction and quickly explained, "They were almost dead anyway." Then he grabbed the daisies from Coulson and motioned to the chair he had vacated. "Have a seat," he said before taking the vase and flowers into the connected bathroom to get fresh water.

Coulson stayed where he was standing but turned his attention to the woman in the bed, content that their quiet conversation had not seemed to disturb her sleep. "How is she doing?" he asked when he heard Tony return from the bathroom.

"Better," the man answered, walking gingerly over to the bed to place the new bouquet on the nightstand by her head. "The burns were superficial. She has a couple cracked ribs and suffered from a concussion early on, but that's better now. She broke her clavicle, hip, and fractured her shoulder so she's probably looking at a couple months of physical therapy once she gets out of here, but the doctors say she should make a full recovery."

Coulson grimaced at the list of injuries. "How's the pain?"

Tony turned back towards the agent, noticing how the other man kept his eyes fixed on the sleeping woman. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Stays at bay mostly...as long as the medication keeps up. For the first couple days, I think she was probably higher than I ever got in '92, and that's sayin' something."

Coulson acknowledged the joke with a quiet burst of breath, the smallest effort one could make towards a laugh. He looked over at Stark and noticed for the first time that he had been staring at Pepper. He also noticed that Tony had noticed. Coulson cleared his throat mildly and tried to wipe the concern from his face.

Tony slowly walked closer. "You know, Pepper told me what you did."

Fear struck Phil's heart as he tried to decipher what that meant. Of the two things that instantly leapt to mind, neither one was particularly thrilling. He was certain Tony either meant that she had told him that Coulson had been the one who brought her to the scene and ordered her to stay in the car, or that she had told Tony about the kiss. Coulson wasn't sure which one scared him more.

As Tony closed in on Coulson's personal space, the agent leaned back on his heals subtly, trying to preserve the distance that was quickly diminishing. Tony Stark was a valued asset to S.H.I.E.L.D. and because of this, Coulson would not be permitted to act against him if Tony were to pick a fight. In the blink of an eye, Coulson calculated his options and the dozen or so ways this could play out. He needed a tactic to subdue the other man if necessary, but also knew that he would not be permitted to hurt him at any point in the process. In the end, Tony's actions were faster than Coulson's calculations.

Coulson hated to admit it, but he flinched a little when Stark's hand suddenly rose. Instead of striking him though, the hand landed on the agent's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I want you to know that I really appreciate you letting her stay with you like that."

Coulson exhaled in relief and just nodded his head in reply, trying to produce words. "It wasn't a problem."

"The whole time I was captured by those nut-jobs, all I kept thinking was 'I hope Pepper is alright.'" Tony shook his head gently as his mind was taken back to that time.

Coulson waited. He had heard the stories before in Stark's debriefings, and so he knew what was flashing through the iron man's mind at that moment, but he let the scenes quietly play out.

Eventually, Tony made eye contact with the agent again and concluded, "Knowing that she was with a guy like you would have taken a lot off my mind."

"Well," Coulson began, wondering how he could respond without tipping his hand. "You're perfectly welcome. It was my pleasure." That was deceptively truthful, but Coulson wasn't going to dwell on it.

"I've gotta be honest with you agent, when I first met you, I thought you were a little, uhh..." Tony wobbled a hand indecisively and laughed a little as he struggled to think of the word, "...you know."

Coulson narrowed his eyes and smiled hesitantly at the other man, letting a small laugh echo from his own lips. He nodded his head a little, even though he had no idea what Stark meant.

Tony continued. "But after I saw the way you took out that guy at the museum, and hearing how Pepper practically swears by you now, I'm sold. As far as government suits go, you're not so bad, Agent Coulson."

Tony slapped the man's back firmly and Coulson stepped forward to keep his body from rocking off balance. "Well thank you," he said, straightening his tie and smoothing out his jacket absently. He felt he should return the sentiment somehow. Allowing himself the opportunity to look back at Pepper, he knew what he had to say. "You know," he began, "It was a real pleasure getting to know Miss Potts for those couple of days, and if there was one thing that stuck out through the whole experience..." he looked back at Stark and tried to keep his emotions out of his voice, "it was that...she really thinks the world of you."

Tony seemed touched by the comment, even though he tried not to show it. The billionaire looked back at the woman on the bed and smiled at her. Was he fighting back tears? Coulson couldn't tell. But there was something restrained about him. He was clearly moved. "Yeah, well," Tony's voice scratched out, "She's never really had good taste."

Coulson smirked knowingly at the other man. Modesty coming from the great Tony Stark. Who would have thought?

The moment was interrupted by a soft moan coming from the woman on the bed. Pepper started to stir with a smooth intake of breath. She was waking up.

"Well," Coulson whispered, shuffling on his feet and starting to back away. "I should probably get back to work."

"No, no, don't be ridiculous. She's just waking up"

Coulson breathed in to protest, but Tony was already at Pepper's side, coaxing her awake.

"Pep? Pep, wake up. Look who's here."

Coulson glanced quickly to the door and wondered how weird it would be if he just made a break for it. But before he could budge, Pepper's eyes were opening and were soon on him. Coulson smiled weakly.

Just a little cliffhanger to take you into the final chapter. ;)

You know, I really love Tony. And I think that sometimes, especially in fanfiction, his playful/goofy/snarky side usually dominates the story. But I also think he's a really tender guys sometimes. We see the way he is with Pepper in IM3 and when Stane threatens her in IM1 and it's clear that Tony hates to see Pepper in peril. There's a soft spot reserved in Tony Stark, and it seems to be reserved in Pepper's name. So, in this chapter, I really wanted to show that side of Tony. Not the arrogant, mischievous side, but the side that Coulson got to observe from that doorway.

So I'm anxious to hear what you guys thought of this chapter. Let me know in the reviews!