penistower | He made some bad investments.

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He made some bad investments.

After working with her at the Battle of New York, Tony had come to respect Rescue -- and the woman behind the suit, of course. But to say they were friends was a gross overshot. Pepper and he could get along. They both had tough shells and were ready equipped with all sorts of sarcasm and wit to deflect any unwanted attention. Because they were essentially Iron Man and Iron Woman, however, the press had their own ideas about the relationship between the pair.

Nick had phoned earlier to tell them about a recent threat, and words came out of his mouth that Tony was pretty sure he misheard. So he made the other man repeat them like, three times. But they didn't change. SHIELD wanted Rescue and Iron Man to shack up, publically. "Officially" so that when the bad guys came they'd have two heroes to contend with, but also so they'd think they were each other's weakness. Since they were only teammates, what could be the harm?

Before he knew it, a press release was set for the morning and Pepper Potts was on her way over to the Tower to move in. He had about a thousand rooms in the place, but if Dr. Doom did find his way inside they should be together just in case. It's all very -- sudden for a man who's never even had a girlfriend. And he still doesn't, but he has to convince the world he does. #Awkward.

"Welcome to Stark Tower, Ms. Potts. And please..."

"Wipe your feet," Tony interrupts JARVIS and his big, sweeping introduction, lifting his eyebrows as he watches her arrival. Should he help her with her stuff...? Probably. After a beat's hesitation, he moves to grab the larger of her two bags.

"Enjoy your stay," JARVIS corrects steadfastly, much to Tony's chagrin. But he offers up a meek little smile for her all the same.

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He scratches his eyebrow, looking up at her from underneath his hand. "It's not all an act, you know. I have some real-life jerk qualities, too." Though true jerks probably don't disclaim their jerkishness. "But... I can work with that." He can't quite keep the smile off his face, a bit of color rising to his cheeks as he tucks his arm back in against himself. It feels like a pure victory. Pepper Potts doesn't hate me!!! Woo-hoo etc.

"And I can work with that," she counters with a small, crooked smile, oddly endeared by the fidgeting and flushing. It's... sweet, and there's a term she never thought she'd so easily associate with him. And it's true; if he were a real jerk through and through, he wouldn't be so self-aware of it. The coffee machine hisses and gurgles softly, breaking the quiet settling over them.

"You're lucky, you know," she teases a bit out of the blue, lips twitching. "Fury could have assigned Natasha for this instead."

"Oh, god..." He's picturing it and actually shuddering before he can stop himself, blinking his head clear a second later. Okay, this is awkward and all, but. That does actually make him feel better. "I prefer not to sleep next to someone who can strangle me with her thighs."

There's a beat, he almost took it back just as quickly, but they have to sleep in the same bed if they're going to convince anyone, right? Not to mention for actual practical... purposes. A tiny scrap of his smile remains as he regards the coffee maker by way of staring at her (still). "Pour me a cup?" The please is heavily implied by his batting eyelashes ok.

Pepper hums in amusement, the small sound turning into a chuckling laugh at his evident horror as well as the statement. "Excuse you. How do you know I can't do that?" Her gaze is laden with mirth at that, stubbornly compartmentalizing the implication of their sleeping arrangements away -- she'd rather not think about that right now.

She shakes her head slightly, tempted to tell him she wasn't here to serve him, either, but that little act is (again, damn it) endearing enough to get her to turn around slowly to locate the mugs from the cabinet.

"Because I'm pretty sure you would have tried it on me in training already if you could." He's an obnoxious asshat in those sessions and he's fully aware. He goes on smiling as she seems to make herself at home. "Thanks, babe," he says it again without any forethought whatsoever, going to find himself a seat at the counter again so he isn't in her way.

"I think you're underestimating my patience," she returns wryly as she pours them both cups; but no he has a point. Her legs are way too long for Natasha's brand of acrobatics anyway!! Everyone has their crosses to bear etc. The pet name comes out of left field and she has to glance at his retreating back, brow arching as she tries to figure out if that was just him poking fun of the situation. It didn't sound like it, though. Averting her face to hide the burning of her cheeks, she busies herself by going through his fridge for something to add to her coffee.

"There's... milk." He had made sure there was milk, for her. Is that weird? He shuts up, feeling like he stepped over a line with that one though he didn't mean it any certain... way. He doesn't think. Mostly. Tony starts drinking his black when she slides it over to him, not seeming to care that it's still too hot for human consumption.

"Ah." She makes a little noise of triumph at locating the carton, plucking it out and bringing it over with her own cup, taking her previous seat opposite of him.

"Slow down. You'll burn your tongue," she cautions with some amusement, only belatedly realizing how nagging that sounded. Biting her lip, she focuses on adding some milk in her cup.

He blows over the surface of the liquid, offering her a tiny look of concession. He's used to being yelled at so it doesn't even register as off to him in any way. "I was thirsty." Or nervous, same diff.

Pepper glances at him with a small smile slanted to one side, giving him a look that's amused and totally disbelieving. Sure, whatever you say. She takes a slow sip of her own coffee before broaching another topic. "Where's your gym, by the way?"

"...Downstairs." He eyes her. He is suspicious of why she's asking that!! Though she strikes him as someone who might work out at night to wind down or something. If that's a thing that can strike you about someone you barely know. Tony looks down into his coffee a second later, enjoying the warmth in his hand even if now he can barely feel his mouth. She was right, he burned it.

"Any... particular reason?" Because if it's just info there u go.

She smirks just a bit at the suspicious looks he's shooting at her. It's not like she couldn't just ask JARVIS for directions. She's mostly just making conversation at this point and establishing each other's habits a little, if they're trying to make this cohabitation thing work. If only for appearances sake.

"I do yoga in the mornings," she explains with a slight shrug. "And work out in the evenings, mostly. I assume you fit that in your schedule somewhere, too." Her brow arches just a tiny bit, questioningly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I mean of course I do." HUFFS! He's trying not to feel put on the spot, but it's a machismo thing as much as anything else. "You're good, though. I mean -- I won't bug you or anything."

He's barely ever in the gym-gym unless he absolutely can't sleep and just has to run until he's exhausted. Or hit something until he can't anymore. Most of the working out he does do takes place in the workshop, like mostly every other thing he does.

Edited 2015-11-29 20:37 (UTC)

Her smirk only twitches at that defensiveness. Take it easy before you hurt yourself son!! Maybe the teasing was a little unnecessary; obviously he isn't in a bad shape, but she doesn't get the impression he's one for regular work-outs, either.

"I'm not worried about that," she dismisses his chivalry -- or whatever -- and takes a sip from her cup before offering impulsively, "Well, let me know if you ever want to spar or something."

Edited 2015-11-29 20:48 (UTC)

"Spar." It spills from his lips before he can stop it. Is this because of that comment he made about Natasha? His eyebrows knit together, but he decides it's safer to take a sip of coffee rather than answer right away. "Is this about injuring my manly pride? Because I'm pretty sure you've crippled it enough for one day." He isn't upset at all, though it might sound as though he is. Mostly he's just... weary. It's hard for him to stay this social for this long as interesting as he finds the person he's with. Which is very, at the moment.

"No...?" It comes out a little uncertainly. She has to pause for a beat and rewind their conversation in light of his objection, momentarily worried she'd overstepped somewhere. She knows she can be too forceful, sometimes without ever seeing it herself -- and she's not yet learned to read this iteration of Tony Stark as well as she could.

"You don't have to. Like I said, it was just an offer," she recovers, a tiny smile making its way to her lips again. "And I'll try to be more mindful of your... manly pride from here on out."

No, she probably wouldn't, tbh.

And now he feels like he's overstepped. Why does he think there's going to be a lot of this over the oncoming days?

"I don't have a lot of it left," he admits, shrugging one shoulder. Working with women who could and would kick your ass tended to do that. Not to mention he's pretty sure she won't do anything of the sort anyway. "You didn't mean... tonight? Or did you." He's so bad at reading signals as it is, but with Pepper he's always a few paces behind and then some. There was nothing actually wrong with her offer. Maybe that would help them get over some awkwardness??

"That's not necessarily a bad thing. Though I know coming from a woman that probably doesn't mean much." A small, wry smile makes an appearance at that, but disappears when he goes on.

"Um. If you'd like? I meant whenever, but." Oh wow, this is a little painful. This is exactly the kind of stilted formality they should get rid of if they intend on fooling anybody. Maybe some contact (and she tries not to redden at the thought) might help. "But unless you don't have better things to do, we could... try?"

Edited 2015-11-29 22:29 (UTC)

"You're right, it doesn't." It's much lighter this time, clearly a joke. In his experience, Pepper Potts was usually to always right anyway, it doesn't seem worth challenging.

But then his face falls a little at her obvious struggle to get the words out. He chews on the inside of his lip and decides to just -- decide. One of them has to, right?

"Want to meet there in an hour? I had some... stuff to finish up." Not that he doesn't always, but he hates the idea of losing his place.

Pepper nods her head, giving a small smile when he takes that initiative. As used as she is to making decisions, it's still hard to shake off the feeling that she's a guest here, despite his assurances to the contrary -- and guests don't tell their hosts what to do and when to do it. She knows she needs to get over it and fast, but. One step at a time.

"Works for me. I'll see you there, then." That gives her time to gather her thoughts and change into work out gear. She thinks maybe Tony needs a bit of breathing room too from all this socializing. Finishing up their coffee, Pepper lets Tony go do his thing while retreating to her things; it's still startling to think of this as their room for now.

An hour later (it could be longer, she didn't check) finds Pepper in the gym clad in black yoga pants and a fitted grey t-shirt, barefooted. Her gym shoes are off to the side, waiting for her to be done with her asanas; yoga always calms and focuses her, which can't hurt now. Hearing the door, she carefully straightens up from balancing stick and brushes aside a wisp of hair from her face that's gotten loose from her braid. "Hi."

He nods, wasting no time disappearing into his workshop to finish his coffee and work on some code. Tony finds himself breaking focus to think about Pepper, though, and his broken concentration goes on no matter how hard he fights it. By the time he looks up at the clock he's already late. He scrambles back up the stairs, abandoning his coffee still half-full on the bench. He'd barely gotten anything done and now Pepper is going to think he's blowing her off already. He is so not cut out for this.

Tony races up to his room, hesitating outside the door. She's not the only one who has to reprogram. Except this room has been just his for a lot longer. Forty years longer. He raps on the door, only hesitating a second when he doesn't hear anything from inside and bursts in. He throws off his clothes in a huff and changes into underarmor, black sweatpants, and his custom Nikes. He stops briefly in the bathroom to splash some water on his face and run a wet hand back through his hair. Did he look like this much of a wreck when he ate dinner with her? Jesus.

A little out-of-breath, he skids to a halt outside the gym an hour and fifteen minutes later than their agreement. He plows his way in, tipping his head at her greeting. "...Hey." His eyes roam over her body before he can stop himself, throat going a little dry and skin buzzing with nerves he didn't allow himself to feel until now when they all come flooding in. "Sorry I'm late." Though by his normal standards, this is downright early, so he goes from feeling embarrassed for being late to being pretty mortified he even called attention to it.

Pepper smooths a hand over her plaited hair, a nervous gesture she can't quite curb in time. Tony's erratic energy is palpable and his nervousness slightly contagious, though the calm she'd achieved earlier going through her yoga exercises still reigns mostly supreme. Still, it seems Tony's presence can be equally as overpowering in both the arrogant confidence she's used to seeing him display as well as this twitchy agitation she getting more familiar with.

"I didn't even notice," she fibs mercifully with a smile. It's not completely true; she had a vague sense he was running late, just not by how much. At any rate, it hardly matters. Swinging her arms a little, she claps her palms together once, softly. "Well, then. Shall we?" She steps over to her shoes, pulling on socks and slipping her feet into the trainers.

"Um... yeah." He doesn't ever think about how jarring it must be to meet him outside of context. How polar his personality can be when compared directly. The last person who had to deal with it was Rhodey and he was fifteen at the time, so. Everyone was monsters. "As long as I don't have to do that." He gestures vaguely which is supposed to translate into THAT WEIRD YOGA THING YOU WERE DOING WHEN I WALKED IN.

Moving to stand at the top of the mat, he tries to clear his mind all the same. It's never an easy task for him, and when he closes his eyes it only gets worse so they end up popping open a second later anyway. Taking up a defensive pose he hopes doesn't look too awkward he shoots her a look that's supposed to signal that he's ready to start.

"It isn't too late to call this off," he reminds her, a little of that arrogance creeping back in even if it is 100% a joke, one side of his mouth tugging up as she gets into position.

Pepper chuckles a little, shaking her head. "I promise," she vows magnanimously, making sure she's all set before returning to the mat, taking her place opposite of him, rolling her shoulders a little to loosen them.

"I'll be gentle, if that's what you're worried about," she volleys back with a tiny smirk of her own, blue eyes gleaming with good humor even as she raises her hands into position and widens her stance, taking a deep breath in. With a nod to signal him it's now officially on, her smile twitches indicatively a second before she makes the first move, telegraphing the jab to his side some degree -- she does try to be as good as her word, after all.

"How'd you know?" he's asking a little gruffly, but he doesn't have time for anything smarter before she's coming for him. He manages to twist and block her move at the last minute, realizing too late he left his midsection open for attack. Trying to move quickly back the other way, though she's in his way now, he attempts to shove her off the mat so he can prepare a proper strike.

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