For most people, waking up was a process. It took a few minutes to really be fully awake in the morning. For some, the process didn't even happen without coffee, tea, or breakfast to really wake them up. That wasn't the case for Stephen. He was a lightswitch, either on or off. When he woke up, he was just awake and nothing could change that. It was a great habit to be in for his new line of work, because he could be alert and ready at a moment's notice any hour of the day. However, when the alternative was sleeping in lazily and holding Max a while longer, he hated the habit.

When he found himself waking up, he just wanted to curse at the sun and go back to sleep. Max was sound asleep next to him, snuggled closely into his side, peacefully unaware of the waking world. Since he was already awake, yet still in denial about having to really get up, he was content to watch her for a short while. He recalled the events of the evening before with a slight smile. After she fell asleep at his side on the couch, he regrettably had to wake her when the night got too late. In her tired state, she didn't want to go home to her empty apartment at the time. As an alternative, he'd offered her a bed for the night. Once again, she just didn't want to be alone. Finally, they agreed that she would stay with him then. He'd lent her a soft t-shirt and a pair of sleep pants to sleep in. The two spent the rest of the night contently exchanging lazy kisses until they fell asleep. The memory was so pleasant and calming to him that he lost track of how much time he spent watching her.

After time passed slowly, he accepted the day and got up, figuring he might at least offer her breakfast, since he hadn't gotten her home as promised. The tricky part was going to be actually making breakfast. Even as one of the most brilliant minds in the world, he couldn't cook to save his own life. He'd always just bought food that was already made for him. He stood in the large kitchen in a mixture of confusion and defeat before the silence was broken.

"Morning, gorgeous," Max smiled from the doorway.

She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Since he was much taller than her, it was a comfortable height for her to hold onto him. He returned the gesture by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and cupping her cheek in his other hand. The unsteady hand on her face brought a warm smile to her face as she pushed herself up onto her toes to meet him in a kiss.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Well...attempting breakfast."

"Can I help?"

"Please."

She moved to the double-doored refrigerator in the surprisingly modern kitchen and reached for the handle.

"Ah, not that one!" Stephen cut in suddenly.

"What? What's wrong with this door?"

"Just...trust me. It's picky. Use the other door."

With a shrug, Max gave in to the whim of the house and opened the other door of the fridge, grabbing out any ingredients she could find for omelettes. As she quietly set out to get cooking, she had to keep pulling the legs of the pajama pants up, because they were pooling around her feet, seeing as how they were far too long. His low, deep chuckle caused her to turn and shoot him a fake glare.

"I can't help it!" she protested, "I'm practically swimming in these clothes. They're massive. You're just so...tall."

"I think you look adorable."

"Will I still look adorable if I'm not cooking for you, because laugh at me again and I won't be," she gave as an empty threat.

When she turned back toward the stove, he slid up behind her, wrapping his long arms around her waist and pressing gentle kisses into the side of her neck. She felt his solid chest against her back and immediately melted into the embrace. When she suddenly tensed up, he could sense something was off.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled into her ear, hoping she would relax again.

"Stephen...is the clock on the stovetop set wrong?"

"No, it's correct."

"That's...that's not possible. That would mean it's almost two o'clock in the afternoon."

He looked at the clock for about a half a second before accepting the fact.

"Hmm, yup."

"What?!"

She quickly pulled away and started for the kitchen door. He felt a sudden pang of emptiness when she pulled out of his arms so suddenly. Without thinking, he followed after her down the hall. She hurried back to his bedroom, turning into the room to find him in front of her, already there.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Oh...uh...sorry. Explanation would be good. I have to work today. I needed to be at work at nine! It is now two!"

"On a Saturday?"

"Yup!"

She was frantically looking for her things, before she noticed her clothing all neatly folded on the corner of the bed, with her purse and shoes on the floor right under that. She really wanted more time to appreciate the sweet gesture, but that would have to wait.

"Gosh you are so good to me!" she beamed at him with a fast peck on the lips, "Turn around."

He did as she asked and faced the door, listening to the frantic shuffling of material to signify that she was changing. For her, time was rushing past, but for him every second was an eternity of convincing himself not to turn around. He just focused on reminding himself that he wanted to take this relationship slowly and not make another disaster out of it like he had always done before. In a merciful second, she put a hand on his shoulder, signifying that he could turn back around. Using his shoulder for balance, she slipped her heels on and hurried to the bathroom.

"Yikes," she hissed quietly, looking at herself in the mirror.

She worked as fast as she could to wash yesterday's makeup off of her face, before pulling a small hairbrush and a few makeup items out of her bag. When she fixed her hair, she moved on to apply the cosmetics to her face. However, a hand wrapped around hers own to stop her.

"I'm kinda in a hurry," she groaned at him, not realizing his meaning.

"Please, don't ever change the way you look."

"It's just a bit of-..."

Her voice faded out when she saw the deeply sincere expression on his face. In that moment, she lost her breath at the idea that someone could find her so beautiful that her usual mask of makeup would make them sad. With an uncertain breath, she shoved the items back in her bag and smiled at him.

"Okay. And...I'm really sorry about breakfast. Raincheck?"

"Of course. Let me take you to work."

The mild look of panic on her face would have been comical under other circumstances.

"Don't worry," he huffed, "No one will even see me."

"Stephen, it's not you. I just-"

He turned away and walked back into the bedroom, not really wanting to hear the same excuse again. He grabbed the sling ring that he'd set on the bedside table and used it to effortlessly open a rift to Max's office.

"There you are."

He didn't even try to hide the disappointment at this point. This was not how he wanted today to go at all.

"Thank you," she offered with a smile.

Before leaving, she ran up to him once more and threw her arms around his neck, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

"I don't wanna go either, but I have to," she murmured into his ear, "And...I'm free tomorrow."

"Not anymore, you're not. You promised breakfast and have yet to deliver."

As soon as she knew his usual cocky smirk was back in place, she hurried through the portal, looking over her shoulder sadly as it closed. A knock on her office door suddenly startled her. She regained her wit lighting fast and leaned casually against the desk.

"Come in."

Tony pushed the door open and walked in, giving her an odd look.

"Where have you been all day?"

"You noticed, huh?" she cringed slightly.

"Yeah, I noticed. SHIELD's been trying to reach me all day and it's usually your job to talk to them for me, so I don't have to. They're mad at me, but at least Fury likes you just fine. That and...Pepper's here."

"I'm so sorry, Tony. I overslept...by a lot. It was just a really late night. I didn't mean to leave you to-"

"To handle everyone in the world that hates me right now? C'mon, give me some backup here!"

"I'm here now. Let's do this."

"Hey...is...is that the same dress you wore yesterday."

She used all of her willpower to keep from paling at his observation.

"This isn't a walk of shame type thing, is it? Was there a guy?"

"No!" she diffused his question, sensing the protective anger in his voice, "I kinda passed out on my couch reading and, when I woke up, I didn't have the time or thought to change. I just ran for a cab."

"Alright then. Now come save my ass."

"You got it boss."

Max grabbed her iPad from her bag and got ready to go and help handle any problems between Stark Industries and SHIELD.

The impossibly long negotiation boiled down to being an argument between Tony and Pepper, with Max as the only unfortunate witness.

"Pepper, you gotta work with me here! I'm trying! There's a lot going on!" Tony was arguing, in defense of how much time he spent obsessing over hero work.

"That's the problem. There's always too much going on! And you just can't handle it all," Pepper replied, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, "You're never there for your company and-"

"And that's why I put you in charge!"

"To do your job?"

"Yes!"

Max let out a deep sigh, before stepping in once more.

"Tony, you're going to have to tell the accords panel that, yes, you want to save the world, but you can also do that running this company. Stark Industries is on the brink of not only eliminating the energy crisis, but also taking a major step towards solving hunger problems on a global scale. There's more than one way to save lives."

Tony sighed, nodding silently, because he knew she was right.

"And Pepper," Max turned the argument gently, "I see where you are in this mess, and I'll do everything I can to get these projects moving. But...Tony's not wrong either. People need Iron Man as much as they need Tony Stark. We'll figure this balance out, given time."

With an unsure huff, Pepper agreed, backing down her argument.

"It's a lot of pressure that I'm under for this," she reminded Max.

"I know. I got your back too, okay?"

"Thank you."

Max let out a breath of relief, before reaching opening the cover of her iPad. When she did, a folded sheet of paper fell out and onto the floor. The cream colored note looked all too familiar to her, as Tony grabbed it off the floor and prepared to hand it back to her. Like the curious mess that he was, he unfolded it.

"What's this?"

He squinted hard at the ink on the note, trying to read it.

"Geez, who's handwriting is this. It's not even legible."

Max calmly snatched the paper from his hands and tucked it back into its place. She didn't know how it got there, but she knew who it was from and she was not having this conversation now.

"C'mon, what is it?"

"It's none of your business is what it is," she smirked it off and walked back toward her office, "You let me know when you need another personal fire put out. Or...a literal fire."

Sitting back down in her desk chair, she silently thanked fate that Stephen's handwriting was both that of a doctor and the result of nerve damage. He usually used magic to write anything now, but, since she was one of the only people who could actually read his writing, he found it more intimate to handwrite things for her. She smiled at the paper in her hands, but was still tense about how close she'd come to finally slipping up.

"You're an amazing guy, Stephen," she spoke softly to the letter, "But I'm just not ready to bring my screwed up family into this. I can't risk that right now. I'm sorry."

She brought the paper to her lips briefly before setting it in her desk drawer and sliding the drawer shut.