Hello. Sorry it's been a couple decades since I last updated. But, and let's be honest, my track record hasn't been the best in this department. Here's a longer chapter than most to hold you over until my next update. Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! That means everything to me.
This has Alessandra, Fury, and Pepper's POV's. Yes, that's right, Pepper is getting into the action. I felt like an outsider needed to try and quantify Tony and Al's relationship. Obviously, it gets horribly muddled. You'll see.
"Tony."
Her voice broke the awkward silence around them. They had been seated on the Lab's sofa for almost an hour, neither one exchanging a word. It was hard trying to find the right words for a situation like this. She could just say thank you and leave it at that, but somehow Al didn't think that was enough. How exactly does one say thank you for preventing my death, but I'm dying anyway—did I forget to mention that? without being a complete dick?
Wow. How ungrateful.
Sure, Al was dying, but Tony swooped in like a goddamn knight in shining iron and gave her back whatever time she had left. Whether it be days, months, or years, she was alive right now and that was all because of the man sitting next to her. He wasn't speaking and he hadn't looked at her directly for who knows how long, but he was here, no questions asked. That alone deserves a thank you.
There were a lot of people she would have loved to comfort her or 'save her' when she needed it, but they weren't here. Al had never met her father—didn't even know his name, really—and her mother was off doing whatever it is she ditched Alessandra for. Her nonna, the one person who ever stuck by her, was dead, and every semi-friend she had made during her former years probably thought Al was dead too. She had thought the only person she could rely on was herself, despite making good friends in Tony, but seeing him suited up reminded her that he was a bonafied superhero. He wasn't just her crazy friend who loved food, alcohol, and watching crappy television with her.
Tony had unknowingly become someone to rely on and Al wished she knew what to do with that information.
So, no, she wouldn't tell him she was dying. She would say thank you in every way one can say it and she would be there for him too. He might not know it, or think anything of it, but Al made herself a promise right there under the dim lights of Tony's lab: the rest of her days would be spent making it up to him. She hadn't thought she had anything left to live for, but now, she wouldn't let Tony's gift go to waste. He saved her and now it was her turn to make it count.
"Hey," she said quietly, using her foot to nudge him. When he turned to look her in the eyes, she continued. "Thank you."
He held her gaze for a short moment before he pulled a face and stood abruptly.
"Don't sweat it, kid."
And that was it. There was no song and dance, long monologues, or anymore tears. She thanked him and he accepted, nothing more to it. Eventually, she was sure the subject would come up again, but for now she was content to ignore the events of the last day.
"So," she said as she slowly unfurled herself from her previous position, "can I use your shower?"
She recognized the strands of her wig lying on the floor a few feet away and ran her hands through her hair. It was knotted and lanky, not to mention sweat soaked. Her dress wasn't faring any better; there were tears from the shattered glass and one strap was missing completely. Alessa wasn't exactly sure how that happened, but she hoped Amanda wasn't expecting it back. There were small cuts littering her arms and legs, and a small bruise on her cheek. In short: she was a mess.
"Yeah, you can use mine. I've got all the good soaps," he boasted to her and she couldn't help but smile a little. You can always count on Tony to act like everything was fine, even when it most definitely wasn't.
"Does that mean you've also got the good shampoo?" She joked back weakly.
She hadn't realized how exhausted her body was until she attempted to stand. She ached all over and the only thing that sounded good right now was sleep.
Tony gave her a look that said 'are you really asking me that' quite plainly. "Have you seen my hair? Of course, I've got the good stuff."
He led her up the stairs and through the first floor before ascending to the second, all while Al was cursing his ginormous house in her head. The walk felt like miles to her.
Finally, they came to a large bedroom that could be described as minimalist. She caught a glimpse of the wall of windows and noticed that the sky was pitch black, indicating it was late at night or early morning. There was a white bed in the center of the room and bedside tables on either side.
Passing through a set of white double doors, she set her eyes on a fancy looking shower stall across the—freaking huge—bathroom. Tony fiddled with the buttons (because his shower had to have a touchscreen activated nozzle) before a stream of water shot out of the showerhead and steam began to fill the air.
Tony pointed to a hook off to the side, "there's a towel, try not to waste all the water."
"Thanks, Tony. I'll try not to rack up your water bill."
"You do that." He said as he exited, closing the doors behind him.
Al stripped off her dress and undergarments, leaving them pooled on the tile, and stepped under the spray. The heat was almost unbearable, which meant it was perfect. She leaned her head against the translucent wall and let the water pound against her back, all while keeping her mind carefully blank. If she thought about anything that happened in the last day she knew she would break down again.
Twenty minutes later Alessa stepped carefully out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and then promptly froze. She didn't have any clothes. Awesome.
Slowly, she stuck her head out of the bathroom and caught sight of something lying next to the doors. A pair of boxers and a t-shirt with MIT written on the front were sitting there innocently. Biting her bottom lip, Al fought a smile and a few tears. She knew it wasn't that big of a deal, but after the day she's had, every little gesture made her feel overwhelmingly grateful.
She pulled the clothes on and threw the towel into the bathroom before shuffling towards the bed. Al knew she should probably ask first, but she was just too damn tired. Satisfied with her plan to ask forgiveness rather than permission, Al sank into the criminally soft mattress and was asleep in seconds.
And when Tony wandered up ten minutes later and dropped onto the other side of the bed, he drifted off just as quickly.
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"What do we know about the girl?"
Fury was curious. A million thoughts ran through his mind and all of them involved Tony Stark and the mystery girl. What was her relationship with Stark (although with his reputation, Fury was pretty sure he knew exactly who she was to him)? Was Stark's involvement with the bank robbery an isolated incident? Could he use this to his advantage?
"We have facial recognition running as we speak, but the clear shot we have of her is a profile."
Coulson was much less curious. Tony Stark was frequently seen in the presence of women and after their brief meetings in the past, Phil wasn't eager to revisit the man.
"Keep me updated."
With that, Fury marched out of the room knowing that he had more important things to worry about. He would act when the intel was good. Until then, he had to see a man about a beast.
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Al woke the next afternoon to the sound of vibrating wood. Reaching out blindly, all while shoving her face deeper into her pillow, she attempted to reach for the phone on the bedside table. Only, it wasn't her phone and it wasn't her bedside table.
She groaned softly before turning her face to the side and opening her eyes just a crack. Bright white light assaulted her immediately and it took everything she had not to slam them shut again. A mop of messy brown hair was all she saw as her eyes focused and with each second she was made aware of the knee jammed into her lower back. Apparently, Tony Stark slept like an animal who couldn't keep his limbs to himself. Not that this is the first time he's ignored personal space boundaries, Al thought wryly.
"Tony, shut your phone up." She hissed.
With a soft sniff, Tony's head moved until his face was toward her own. Recognizing the girl lying next to him, he pouted and pulled the blanket up higher. He stretched his limbs out and nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow. Al couldn't hold back an amused smile at the sight of the great Tony Stark looking like a puppy with his messy hair and bleary eyes.
She couldn't remember falling asleep the night before but she knew it wasn't a big deal. Al was with Tony and safe inside the Malibu mansion, therefore no need for concern. It was a new feeling for her, and secretly she quite liked it. The buzzing sound began again and reminded Al of why she was awake in the first place.
"Come on, Tony. Someone's trying to get a hold of you."
Without emerging from his blanket, Tony mumbled, "J?"
"It appears that Miss Potts is on the line, sir."
The loud British voice that replied had Alessa blinking repeatedly. She had forgotten all about the AI who ran her friend's life. All the time she had spent at Tony's house was either in silence, with music playing loudly, or conversing with Tony. J.A.R.V.I.S. had only made comments briefly in her presence and Al had yet to get used to the disembodied voice.
"Ignore it." Tony said, sounding much more awake.
Pulling the blankets back, his eyes sharpened and the look on his face was searching. Confused, Al raised her eyebrows at him and then attempted to wiggle them up and down. Considering her lack of muscle control, it wasn't surprising when Tony snorted out a short laugh and then shoved his hand in her face.
"It wasn't that bad!" She argued with scoff.
"It really was." He said as he sat up and made his way out of the bed.
Following his lead, Al tugged the blanket off and slid to the edge of the bed, sitting there with her legs crossed. Tony had disappeared into his closet, leaving her to practice wiggling her eyebrows in the mirror. It really did look awful. She scrunched up her face in displeasure, which was the first thing Tony saw as he emerged with a new shirt on and the same ratty pair of jeans. With a smirk on his face, he waggled his eyebrows expertly as he walked passed.
In retaliation, she threw her pillow at his back. He ducked and laughed loudly as he made his way down to the first floor, probably to finish the repairs to his suit.
Alone in his room, Al thoughts took another turn. The bank came flooding back and her chest constricted, making it hard for her to breathe. Eyes wide she attempted to block the previous day's events from her mind and thought about what she would do for the rest of the day. She didn't have to work until later that night and she knew if she went home Amanda would be questioning her endlessly about the Bank Incident (as she would now refer to it as). Honestly, that was the last thing she needed right now. Closing her eyes and taking slow, steady breaths, Al tried to reign herself in.
A loud rumble interrupted her thoughts and brought her attention to her aching stomach. She hadn't eaten anything yesterday afternoon because Tony was supposed to be meeting her for their Tuesday dinner. After waking up in his lab, her emotions were too jumbled and eating became the last thing on her mind. It was probably very unhealthy for her to be skipping meals, especially considering her already slight weight, so Al dropped her feet to the ground and decided to find the kitchen. Was it strange that she had been to Tony's a couple times before but had never ventured far from the lab?
She thought it'd be harder to navigate considering the size of the place, but it seems Tony had practicality in mind when building the mansion. Everything was exactly where she anticipated it to be and despite the modern minimalist style, there were touches here and there that let her know somebody considered it a home. The walls were decorated with strange abstract artwork and the color scheme was white, gray, and chrome, yet there was a blue jacket hanging from a hook in the entryway and a pair of shoes in front of the door leading to the outdoor pool. Keys were set on countertops and pillows in the living room were laid out haphazardly, almost as if someone had been stretched out on them.
The kitchen itself was smaller than she would have anticipated, probably due to the fact that Tony couldn't cook. It was still larger than the kitchen in her apartment and had sleek, fancy appliances. Keeping up with the white/chrome theme as the rest of the house, it was sleek, smooth, and just a little bit bland if she were being honest. There was a large bar/island in the center of the room and uncomfortable looking stools settled under it.
Shuffling to the refrigerator, she pulled out ingredients for breakfast—ignoring the fact that it was probably lunch time—and attempted to figure out how the appliances worked. After a few minutes of staring helplessly at the stove top with no knobs, it fires up on its own. Alessa jumps and grabs the island counter behind her in fright. Squinting her eyes at the stove, Al contemplates the likelihood of her having telekinetic powers that decided to manifest at the most random time possible. Lifting up her hand, palm faced out, she furiously thinks about the flame dying down.
And it does.
"What the he-," she starts to say slowly before an amused voice interrupts.
"I apologize, Miss. It seemed like you were having difficulty with Sir's stove."
Ah, right. J.A.R.V.I.S. That makes more sense.
Shoulders dropping, she turns her face to the ceiling. "And turning it off?"
"You looked as though you needed assistance turning it off as well, Miss."
Yep, there was definitely some sarcasm that time.
Shaking her head and chuckling softly at her own actions, Al replied, "Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S.. Can you turn it on again?"
Moving around the kitchen, J.A.R.V.I.S. directed her towards the pots, pans, and silverware. Once she got over the whole disembodied voice thing, J.A.R.V.I.S. was actually really helpful. He knew where everything was and held an unmistakable sarcasm about him that was all Tony. He (it?) was good company and when Alessa ran out of questions to ask, he put on an Elvis Presley playlist for her.
Smiling sadly at the reminder of her nonna, she had J.A.R.V.I.S. turn the music up louder and went back to making pancakes.
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Pepper Potts was irritated.
In fact, she was downright mad. Tony had been AWOL ever since he went to Egypt and stopped that bank robbery—which she had to find out about on the news—and now he was blatantly ignoring her calls. The board was insistent on having a meeting to discuss the new changes to Stark Industries (SI) and her phone was ringing non-stop. Of course, everyone knew to call Pepper because god forbid Tony Stark ever answer his own phone.
Yes, she was his assistant, but honestly it was more of a formal title at this point. She practically ran the company and ever since Tony came out as Iron Man, she'd picked up what was left of his SI responsibilities. Unfortunately, because the letters C, E, and O did not come after her name on her business card, she was left waiting for Tony to sign the documents necessary for her to do the job. Don't get her wrong, she loved Tony. He had hired her years ago and they had become great friends since then, but despite what people said about prolonged exposure giving someone immunity, she never fully got used to his tendency to not give one shit about the business side of his company.
So, she resorted to showing up in person and badgering him about things until he gave in out of sheer annoyance. Personally, she thought he just enjoyed getting her riled up and did it as often as possible.
This is exactly why she was marching up the front steps of Tony's house with a stack of folders tucked under one arm and a determined expression on her face. No matter what he does, do not give in, Potts.
J.A.R.V.I.S., having recognized her car entering through the gates, opened the front door for her. Immediately upon entering, she heard the faint sounds of music drifting through and followed the sound to what she thought was the lab. Instead, she bypassed the staircase leading to the basement and found herself heading towards the kitchen. The music grew louder and just before she turned the corner, she froze. A soft voice was echoing down the hallway.
A voice that was distinctly female.
Peering around the corner slowly, Pepper was greeted with a view of the large living room off to one side and the kitchen on the other. Sitting at the island was Tony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and looking like he had just rolled out of bed. He was ignoring the tablet on the counter in front of him and just staring ahead. Scooting out more, she was able to get a glimpse of a slim figure with long brown hair swaying along to the music. The woman was cooking and singing along to an upbeat Elvis song, all while moving around and grabbing new ingredients like she was familiar with where everything was.
Jerking back behind the wall, Pepper contemplated the bizarre scene she had just witnessed. The woman was wearing Tony's clothes and cooking breakfast in Tony's kitchen, two things that just didn't happen. She was confused more than anything because it was all so domestic. Pulling a face, she thought about interrupting but from the look on his, Pepper got the impression that Tony was content to just sit there and stare at the dancing woman. He looked as if he were trying to solve a complex problem, one that he enjoyed solely because he couldn't find the answer immediately. He looked at the woman like he wanted to know everything about her.
Before she did anything, she heard a gasp from the other room.
"Where did you come from?"
The voice was breathy and light, as if she had just been frightened. Despite that, it was pleasant. And young. Way too young for someone old enough to sleep with Tony.
Narrowing her eyes, she listened in.
"What's with the Elvis?" Tony said, completely ignoring her question. "Last time you cooked breakfast this CD was playing too."
Everything was silent for a minute, prompting Pepper to peak back into the room.
The girl was facing the stove again but her body was still and her hair covered her face. Tony's head was cocked to the side and his eyebrows were furrowed slightly, eyes never leaving the back of the brunette's head.
A minute later the girl spoke, "My nonna was the toughest person I'd ever known. She immigrated to America with her husband very young and built a life for her family by working hard after he died. When I was six, my mom dropped me off at her house and never came back."
At this, she lifted her head and turned towards Tony, still unaware that Pepper was standing there watching the scene. Tony's expression went blank and all he did was stare at the woman. Being too far away, Pepper couldn't make out the details of the woman's face but she knew she looked almost as young as her voice portrayed.
"Nonna died last year, but not without teaching me a few things first. Lesson one: don't take anyone's crap, lesson two: nothing brings people together like good food, and lesson three: Elvis Presley is the King."
At this point the music changed and Pepper recognized the opening of 'Can't Help Falling in Love.' She watched as the girl turned and used a spatula to scrape something onto a plate.
A moment later, Tony was up and moving around the island. He approached the girl and grabbed her hand, smoothly pulling her into a dance as Elvis crooned in the background. They fell into step and from Pepper's viewpoint she could see the girl drop her head onto Tony's shoulder. Their voices became quieter and soft laughter was the only thing left to be heard.
Pepper's chest constricted at the sight. It looked like Tony had found someone to have breakfast with. She was having a hard time accepting it though, because as much as she wanted Tony to be happy after everything he went through with Afghanistan and Stane, all she could think about was the girl is too young, she probably wants his money, Tony is going to get bored of her soon, etc. Anything to destroy the image of Tony with someone else—anyone else.
Abruptly, Pepper turned and made her way out of the house quietly. She pushed all of those thoughts out of her head and became determined to be happy for him. He had been through so much in the last year that he deserved this. She was being stupid and jealous—protective!—of him and he didn't need that right now. Obviously, he hadn't told her anything about seeing someone, so for now she would pretend like none of this had happened. When the time is right, he'll tell me. He tells me everything.
Despite her determination not to be upset, Pepper could feel her heart crack in her chest.
So there you have it. Some more fluff and some more angst. Kind of.
PLEASE READ: Pepper is jumping to conclusions and there is nothing other than platonic friendship between Tony and Al. I felt like without context, the actions of both characters can be taken in a way that is completely WRONG. Also, from her position across the room she's not able to tell that their dance is fumbling and Al is essentially standing on his toes. There will be no hanky panky between the two. It was/is/and forever will be platonic.
Also, here's what Tony and Al are talking about as they dance:
Tony's eyes light up and a smirk curls at his lips. This is a look he wears frequently and Al knows that whatever comes next is going to complete and utter bullshit. And she'll probably laugh anyway.
"So, this has gotten way too serious for me. I feel like we're moving too fast and I'm just not ready for that kind of relationship. It's not you, it's me."
Al laughs and ducks her head while Tony continues in the douchiest voice he can muster.
"I think we're really just meant to be friends, but you're going to make someone really happy someday."
Shoving him away jokingly, Al grabs the plates and places them next to each other.
"Shut up and eat your blueberry pancakes."
Leave me a review and let me know what you think! We're almost getting into Iron Man 2, so you have that to look forward to. Also some appearances from our favorite secret agents.
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