penistower | He made some bad investments.

He doesn't hear her, naturally, already chatting animatedly with the delivery guy and not letting his extremely broken English impede it in any way. He agrees to sign the man's hat, but still tips him handsomely, making it back into the kitchen less than two minutes later. Tony deposits the food onto the counter and moves to grab them utensils. He hates the plastic ones they give you in the bag.

"Another beer?" he asks, getting one for himself before she can answer.

Pepper uses the time he's at the door to pull herself together, taking a long pull from her bottle. Nothing like a little liquid courage, right? (No.)

Thankfully the food provides a welcome distraction; her belly growls at the wonderful scent wafting into the air, and she starts unpacking it from the bag while Tony rifles for utensils. She still has some beer left in the previous bottle, so she probably shouldn't... "Sure," she says instead to his offer. Oh, well.

Too late, he's already opening her a new one and bringing it over with the forks and paper towels. He moves to sit next to her this time, his cheeks pinking subtly as he grabs the leftover container and brushes his hand against hers in the process. "Here." He slides the bottle over to her, though he can see she's still working on the first. He wouldn't mind being a little tipsy right now himself. Somehow it seems like it might be easier that way. "If this isn't spicy enough for you then you're even more badass than I thought," he says after a swig from his fresh beer and a mouthful of noodles. Honestly he usually orders the two-star but again he'd wanted to impress her!! His eyes are already watering.

She glances sideways at him with a little smile, startling a bit at the brush of their hands and swallowing dryly. Food, right. She murmurs her thanks and digs in, giving a hum of approval at the warm spiciness on her tongue.

"I don't know, it could stand to be just a bit hotter," she teases with a crooked smile, though she actually think it's just perfect, a hint of color on her own cheeks from the kick. If she notices his struggle, she isn't mentioning it; at least yet, finishing off her first bottle of beer. "It's good, though. Nicely recommended."

He huffs, busying himself with his own food. No matter the mission, it's still hard to be upstaged by her, even if he can admit he often is. He wouldn't call her his partner if she wasn't every bit as impressive as her file made her out to be.

"Glad you like," he settles on magnanimously, drinking his beer quickly now perhaps more to dull his tastebuds than for any other reason.

Hiding a knowing little smile, Pepper ducks her head and focuses on her food. It's unexpectedly pleasant, this simple act of just dining with someone, side by side. Maybe she's been by herself for longer than she'd realized; a startling thought.

"So, what do you really think of this whole... mission?" she asks to distract herself. "You think this idea has any merit to it?"

That gives him pause. Pepper generally didn't ask his opinion like this. "...Sure. Otherwise I wouldn't have said yes." He still has serious misgivings, but that's mostly about whether or not he thinks they can pull this off. He sets down his fork and sighs. "If you don't want to... I mean, we can go back to Fury. Tell him we changed our minds. Blame it on me, even. I know I'm not great company."

"It's... not that," she says a little stiltedly, poking at her food. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." What is it then? She realizes she can't entirely answer her own question. "I doubt Fury would bend, anyway. You know what a stubborn hardass he is when he wants to be."

Convenient, right? It's not like she didn't try to get the man to change his mind over the phone, but...

"And you're not so bad. Much to my surprise," she adds with a teasing little smile, glancing at him sideways. But the innocent remark spawns genuine curiosity, and she turns her whole body a little toward him on the stool. "Why aren't you like this all the time? You can be so infuriating out there, and now you're... well. Nice."

"Yeah, but so are you." He smiles, a little lopsidedly. "Not even he can make Pepper Potts do something she doesn't want to."

Unconsciously, he turns towards her too, squinting a little as she poses the question. It's not every day you get asked why you're 'nice.'

"I wasn't aware I was nice," he admits, and it's not off-kilter enough to be totally a joke. "I didn't join up to make friends." That's a neat solution, right?

She gives a slightly awkward breath of laughter at that, not sure it's a complimentary trait to be unyielding like that, suddenly remembering all the times she's been called a bossy bitch -- in jest and not. "Yeah."

Unfortunately that's weakening her convenient excuse for being here in the first place, but she doesn't have time to worry about that now. She has the good grace to look ashamed when he turns her words around, realizing in hindsight just how she'd sounded. "I didn't mean... that was a poor choice of words. It's just that sometimes..." Sighing in defeat, she glances back to her food and pokes at her noodles. "Never mind, forget it. So, why did you join?"

"To meet the Hulk, duh." He's pushing his food around at this point to, she's more interesting anyway. "Sometimes I'm a dick, I know. It's my way of... deflecting, I guess." Surely she must know that already by now. Whatever.

"I joined to save the world. Isn't it obvious?" It's juvenile, maybe. But it's the truth. He knows he has a particular skill set to offer the world. She pilots one of his suits, doesn't she feel the same?

The corner of her mouth quirks up briefly at his first response. It's not that she doesn't know he's a jerk sometimes to deflect, she's quite familiar with that. But it's more than that, though. She figures it's a front of some sort, one that's probably needed. The whole world had eyes on them, and superheroes who didn't look like they knew exactly what they were doing at all times didn't inspire confidence.

"I wouldn't know. I joined for the fame and glory, obviously." She turns her head a little to catch his eyes, lips curving slowly into a crooked smirk.

"Obviously." God, how did he never notice how blue her eyes were before? And there goes his train of thought. "I... I was skeptical at first. But it seems to be working out. Right?" The Avengers, SHIELD, their whole partnership. Pick one. He's still trying to come up with a specific name for that color.

Pepper isn't entirely sure what it he's referring to, but it's a fairly universal statement, her expression softening along with her smile.

"Yeah. So far, so good," she agrees quietly and mellifluously, getting a little lost herself in his eyes. She realizes it after a moment, but tamps down on an urge to look away and clear her throat. She changes the subject instead. "...Do you have any ice cream? For dessert."

"Ice cream," he repeats, licking his lips thoughtfully. Almost like it's taking him a long time to remember what that is. Really he's just lost wondering when the last time a woman was even in his apartment... "Do I have ice cream." He rises to his feet, and waves for her to follow. When she does she'll be treated to his very special ~ice cream freezer~ at the back of the pantry. What did you think that was for, meat? Stupid.

"Pick your poison, Potts." His hand braces on her arm for a second while they share the limited closet space. Since he doesn't cook a lot, there's mostly canned and boxed goods like you might find in a military bunker. End of the world emergency ready meals and the whole thing. "I have all the fixings, too. You're a gummy bears and hot fudge kind of girl, aren't you?

Pepper gapes a little as she takes in the pantry, thinking he's all set to hunker down with his provisions in case of a zombie apocalypse or something. The ice cream freezer takes the cake though, her lips twitching a little in some odd mix of emotion she'd describe as a blend of amusement and... being charmed.

"Wow." She turns her head when he guesses her favorite fixings with eerie accuracy, staring in surprise. "How did you... is my file more extensive than I've been told or what-- how could you know that?"

"I'm the ice cream whisperer." He puts his finger to his lips and drags out the cookie dough and the premade fudge, the real kind you have to heat up. "Do you want to get the chocolate brownie and meet me out there?" He brushes by her without waiting for an answer, already setting up the sundae bar by the time she makes it out. He's all about this and then some.

Pepper presses her lips tightly together to ward off the silly smile that wants to break free at his antics, dipping her chin down. She hums an affirmative a little belatedly, grabbing the requested flavor and following after him. Depositing the container on the counter, Pepper takes her earlier seat with a slightly teasing smile. "I would have done this sooner if I'd known you were hiding a freezer full of cookie dough."

"Done what, had a sleepover?" he jokes before he can catch himself, pulling out his secret candy stash to make their treats with. He's glad his back is to her so he can blush unreservedly. Then he's making his way to the sink to wash his hands before starting. Pepper's goes first, a tiny bit of brownie on the bottom, then cookie dough, then fudge he grabs as it comes out of the microwave. His will be less good bc it cools down in like no time at all, but he's made peace with that already. Then gummy bears and a few rainbow sprinkles, and of course whipped cream and two cherries on top. He gives a little flourish and a bow as he presents it to her before going back to the counter to craft his own.

"Something like that," she responds with a slight blush of her own at the implications, focusing her gaze on anything that isn't his backside or... shoulders. Why does he have such nice shoulders, too? Why is she even noticing? The ping of the microwave snaps her out of it guiltily, and she lift a hand up to discreetly feel if her cheeks are flushed before he turns around.

"Oh my god," she chuckles when he presents her with her loaded sundae, picking off a gummibear to munch on before touching the ice cream. "This is amazing. Keep this up and I won't fit into my suit," she cracks, right before spooning up some of the goodness with a happy sigh. Self-restraint is for wussies. At least when it comes to ice cream.

His gaze follows her lips before he forces himself to tear away -- reminding himself of his rapidly cooling chocolate. In his own creation, there's much more chocolate -- brownie ice cream and fudge both, sprinkles, marshmallows, and about the same amount of cookie dough covered in too much whipped cream and cherries. He laughs heartily at that, finding it hard to picture her as anything but her slim, lean self. Not that he's picturing her... any way.

Tony drops down across from her, figuring it's a cool enough night that he won't have to worry about the ice cream melting all over his kitchen before they finish. "You'll have to take the Hulkbuster," he threatens, but he can't even hold it together for a second before losing it with an evil cackle as he crosses his ankles and starts in on his own ice cream mountain.

She squeaks indignantly though her eyes are alight with mirth, reaching her free hand across the space between them to thwap his shoulder lightly as she battles a grin. "Oh yeah? You'll have to make another one of those for yourself, then," she jabs, nodding at his own bounty.

He's still laughing even while he swallows, shaking his head as his eyes glaze over with a mirthful sheen. He looks at his shoulder and then back over at her without moving at all, as if afraid to jostle her even for a joke. "I'd be down with that. Will you still go out with me if I'm fat and sloppy though?" He purses his lips in between bites, tone serious even if they both know better.

"Will you? We'll both be fat and sloppy, remember," she points out with a smirk and an ached brow, fondly amused, bringing a spoonful of fudge-laden ice cream to her lips is if in punctuation.

"Oh, so it's only okay if we're both gross. I can work with that." He shrugs, licking some vanilla off his mustache. He doesn't get it all unsurprisingly. "Have you ever dated a fat guy?" It would probably be an insensitive question coming from anyone else, but from Tony Stark it doesn't even scratch the iceburg of fucked up shit he says on the daily so he really doesn't stop to wonder why he's asking, or even why he wants to know.

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