Sorry if I've confused anyone, but I've actually posted chapter 7 last week, and this is officially chapter 8.
This was by far the hardest chapter to write; I hope I managed to stay true to the characters!
"Well, I'm still gonna need to patch you up."
"No way."
Pepper was used to her boss being eccentric, but she also knew how to recognize a slippery slope. Dancing with Tony Stark in front of all of SI while wearing a backless dress had been one hell of one—and she hadn't walked away unscathed. Letting him play doctor on her was the equivalent of putting on rollerblades and then going back down that same slope. A recipe for disaster, likely to leave her a little more heartbroken.
She tried to convey her assessment through her eyes and the tilt of her head. But it was a wasted effort; she watched him stride around her desk and head for the door.
"Where do you keep your emergency kit? Second drawer, my desk, right?"
"Tony, come back here. Please?"
"I'll be right back. Eat something."
Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, not moving an inch. It was only Tuesday, and she couldn't wish more for the weekend to arrive. Maybe this was a sign to submit a couple of weeks of PTO. Leave with or without a replacement ready, turn off her phone and her location. Maybe that would do them both some good.
She knew she needed a break. Her brain couldn't keep up with Tony Stark at his own speed, and she needed to stop having him at the center of her thoughts.
That had to be the solution, right? To fall out of infatuation with Tony Stark, she needed to break the cycle—even if just for a few days.
Tony came back whistling, a red metallic box in hand with a white cross on top.
"Tony, you don't have to do this. This is ridiculous."
"Come on, Pepper. We're making progress here—we're learning equal treatment. Sit on the desk, will you?"
She rubbed her temple, eyes closed again. If she had a normal job, her boss would be apologizing for stepping out of line in a formal one-on-one meeting, and definitely not forcing her to this.
"Is there any way to talk you out of it?"
"You know me better than that, Potts. The longer this takes, the later we all go home."
Pepper sighed but stood up, astonished that she was actually letting him do this. Somehow, the role reversal terrified her.
She sat at the very edge of the desk, trying to cross her arms like an uncooperative teenager, but a sharp pain stopped her. Tony noticed, and his "I told you so" expression was too much for her to take. Boundaries existed for a reason, but if he wanted to push them, then fine. Her present for her upcoming birthday—bought with his card—would be the most expensive one so far.
"We were supposed to get work done tonight... and talk."
Tony stood directly in front of her, looking down into her eyes.
"And we will. I've only got three contracts left to review. I'll finish them tonight, I promise," he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips.
Pepper didn't have the upper hand in this staring contest, but thankfully, Tony cleared his throat and stepped back.
"What's step number one? Is it the drink?"
He went to open her cabinets and quickly found an unopened bottle of whiskey that had probably been gifted to her years ago.
"Bushmills. Irish. Not the best, but that will have to do," her boss muttered, visibly disappointed by his find.
Right—it had probably been gifted to Tony, and she had to make it disappear as it was not close to his standards.
"I'd like to stress that I am against giving you alcohol when you're injured; you just make me do it."
"Don't knock it till you try it; it helps with the pain."
Tony's words softened her. This was the first real acknowledgment of what he was putting his body through that Pepper had heard from him. Tony Stark could spend an incredible amount of time, energy, and money maintaining his famous persona, focused on looks and appearances. But no matter how vain he was capable of being, she had also seen the other side of the coin. She recalled all the different injuries he had sustained over the past eight months since becoming Iron Man, and how he would downplay all the bruises and cuts every time she looked at him with worry in her eyes. She had considered quitting many times over the last few months, unsure if she could handle the next time he would be careless with his body.
He held himself responsible for things he should not, but she did not know how to reach out to him and tell him that he did not need to desperately atone for sins that were not his—definitely not at the cost of his own life. For there was one person who could not afford to lose him: her. His assistant, who should not be thinking any of this.
He poured a hefty dose of whiskey into Pepper's coffee mug and pushed it into her hands, encouraging her to take more than a sip.
She stared at the amber liquid, the sharp smell hitting her before she even raised it to her lips. Whiskey had never been her drink of choice—too many nights spent nursing Tony's hangovers had made her quietly loathe it.
But tonight, the heat from the alcohol seemed like it could steady the turmoil caused by her boss, his eccentricities, and her own feelings. Pepper Potts was used to driving her life clear headed and always 'knowing better', but when it came to this new version of Tony Stark, she was at loss. With a quick, resigned breath, she swallowed a mouthful, the burn spreading through her throat and chest, and managed to keep a straight face.
"Attagirl," Tony smiled, his eyes softening for a brief moment before his expression turned more serious. "Now, normally you'd ask Jarvis to do a scan, but since I didn't set that up here, we'll just have to trust you're not internally bleeding."
"How confident of you," she muttered, the sharpness in her tone hiding her nervousness.
Tony started rummaging in the red box when he looked up and pointed at her blazer with his chin.
"Okay, show me the damage, Pep."
She could take her jacket off, but there was no way she was lifting her blouse and exposing her ribs where she felt a tickling sensation, surely signaling that the skin had been scratched.
Sensing her hesitation, Tony paused once more and said with a grave look accentuated by the dim light, in a deep voice that sealed the deal:
"Come on, Pepper, you see mine all the time."
She took in everything that he was really saying with those few words: since he came back from Afghanistan, he had let her see him in his most vulnerable states time and time again because he needed her—but also most importantly, because he trusted her. And tonight, Tony needed to know that she trusted him equally. So, Pepper silently took off her blazer, not without wincing a couple of times when her left side was involved. She carefully folded the jacket next to her. Tony picked up her left arm with one hand and started applying a light pressure with the other, going from her shoulder to her wrist, watching her face for any sign of pain.
"Does that hurt? Can you move your arm?", Tony asked her softly, his voice gentle.
"My shoulder is a bit stiff. I can feel the bruise forming," she answered, matching his tone.
"Whatever you're planning to wear tomorrow night, you should ice your shoulder when you get home, or it'll be purple by then."
Shoot, she had almost forgotten about tomorrow's Gala. The good news was that she had already planned to wear a long gown with kimono sleeves. A practical choice driven by the few gossips that had emerged at the office after she stood out at last year's Firefighters benefit. Even though she usually pretended not care, the rumor that she had 'slept her way to the top' felt isolating in a company this large, and she was doing her best to avoid feeding it. That was when Tony Stark himself was not giving people something to talk about by waltzing her onto the dance floor.
Tony continued his careful examination, checking her wrist and her elbow, his touch gentle but methodical. Pepper watched his face as he worked, his eyes focused with a rare kind of concentration she usually only saw in the lab.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he finally asked, his fingers still lingering on her arm.
Her eyes betrayed her when she looked down at her ribs, and Tony picked up on it immediately.
"May I?" he asked, his fingers already hovering over her left side, waiting for her permission.
She hesitated, a small knot forming in her stomach. She had the option to answer no, get up, and call it a night, but the not-so-reasonable part of her didn't want to ruin the moment. Tony's rare displays of compassion for others was her kryptonite. She knew, with absolute certainty, that Tony would eventually pull away and disappear, leaving her to figure it all out. Since they had already blurred a few lines this evening, she was just curious to know how long until it happened this time.
Pepper nodded slightly, not quite meeting his eyes as the air between them grew heavier. She watched as her boss lifted her blouse, slowly revealing a long scratch with tiny red dots of blood.
Tony's brow furrowed as he inspected the mark: "Now that must hurt."
She had seen him with more impressive bruises than that, but she did not argue.
Tony picked up a compress and some disinfectant from the kit, and proceeded to clean up the damaged skin. Pepper almost jumped back from the initial contact, not ready for the cold sensation of the antiseptic and the feel of his fingers on her skin.
"Listen, I know I've been a jerk lately," Tony started, offering a distraction. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything... but I guess I got scared. I thought we had something good going. And I couldn't figure out why you wouldn't tell me about... your engagement. Stupid, right?"
Pepper looked up, unsure of what to say in return. It was his turn to avoid her eyes. Instead, he focused on checking one rib at a time to make sure nothing was broken. Pepper felt his fingers going higher and higher and held her breath, ready to swat his hand away.
"You know firsthand that my circle is rather small, and it got... even smaller last year," Tony continued. "Being blindsided sucks, and I don't think I can handle losing anyone else. You, Rhodey, Happy; that's it."
His brown eyes locked with hers, silently pleading her to not reject his apology.
How could she, when this was the first time that he was mentioning Obadiah's treason? His willingness to open up, even just a little, about last year provided her with a sense of relief, and offered her a better understanding of what was actually going on in the genius brain of his. Without surprise, the frustration of the past few days began to dissolve.
She snapped back to reality when his fingers transformed into a gentle caress, tracing delicate patterns on her skin. Pepper instinctively grabbed his hand to pull it away and readjusted her blouse. As soon as the contact was broken, she did miss the warmth of his touch.
"Tony, I would never blindside you like this. We care about you a lot. I just wish that you would talk to me more. You can't keep things locked up inside you indefinitely. And I can't help you if you are pushing me out."
The warmth in his eyes flickered briefly into something unreadable, and Pepper felt the shift. With a last caress of his thumb on her fingers, Tony let go of her hand and stood straight, adding a more reasonable distance between them. "There we are," Pepper thought to herself. "Moment's over."
"You're right, Pep. As always," Tony offered with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.
She stood up, and Tony stepped aside without looking her way, his hands shoved into his pockets.
"See you tomorrow morning, right?" he asked, his voice light but carrying an undertone she couldn't quite place.
"Right," she nodded, grabbing her jacket.
She walked to the door and paused in the doorway, looking back at him.
"Don't stay too late tonight, Tony."
He glanced up then, meeting her eyes for just a second longer than usual.
"No promises."
With that, Pepper stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her. She leaned against the cool wood for just a moment, gathering herself, and then she walked away.