He made some bad investments.

[letmetakeaselfie]

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.

Comments

[efficacy]

"Pity. These appliances are top notch." Like everything else in the place, of course. She takes the same seat she had last night when they had dinner, setting down their bowls of oatmeal. "Would you mind pouring me a cup, too?"

[letmetakeaselfie]

He nods, leaning back against the counter facing her. "At least while you're living here they won't feel so neglected." Wait. Did that come out wrong? He can't even be sure, grateful for the task as he sets his cup down in front of the seat next to her and turns around to start over. At the last minute he remembers she likes milk, stopping before it's too late to add any, though it's a really close call. He grabs the milk she'd left out and pours a dash in the mug before popping it back into the fridge.

Tony carefully walks around the island and sets her cup in front of her, his hand trailing along her arm as it retreats. It's just deliberate enough so that it couldn't have been wholly accidental, but it was clearly not premeditated all the same. He slips into his chair and begins eating without any hesitation whatsoever.

[efficacy]

"Thanks," she murmurs softly when he sets down a cup for her, faltering a little when his calloused hand strokes over her arm; the gesture feels almost affectionate, like one of those casual caresses between an actual couple. It felt... nice. Blinking rapidly a few times, she tries to will away the flutters in her belly and focuses on breakfast.

"Is it okay?" she asks after a quiet moment, meaning the porridge. "I like to make it on the stove rather than microwave it. I think the flavor is better that way."

[billionaires]

"What?" Oh, the oatmeal. What else could she mean? He really hates himself sometimes. "Oh, no. I mean, yeah. It's perfect. Thank you." It seriously tastes better than anything he could think of eating right now and the speed with which he does so seems to demonstrate that. Tony's never had microwave oatmeal so he can't really compare.

[efficacy]

She beams happily, munching on a bit of fruit in the meanwhile. "There's some left in the pot if you want it."

[letmetakeaselfie]

"...Yeah? Do you want some?" He gets up again to refill his bowl, fingers grazing her collarbone with the askance.

[efficacy]

"I'm--" she begins, but the brush of his fingers against her skin startles her into pausing -- if only for a beat as she recovers, shaking her head with a quick smile and trying to ignore the goosebumps that dapple her arms fleetingly at the touch, the shiver running down her spine. "I'm good, thanks. It's all yours."

She picks up her cup, sipping on Tony's likely ridiculously fancy -- and amazing -- coffee. She really needs to stop being so twitchy at these casual touches if they're to pull this off, but it's been such a long time since she's had that kind of relationship with anyone.

I MEANT TO WRITE SHOULDER BLADES???

[billionaires]

He offers her a smile though it's such a simple thing, catching a glimpse at the clock face on the coffee maker. "...Well, that's it," he announces. "We're officially a couple." Tony scrapes the rest of the pan for the remaining oatmeal, going in the fridge for the strawberries. He hesitates like a weirdo and grabs the blueberries instead, dumping them all into his bowl. It's like... comfort food. He leans back against the counter again to polish it off rather than sitting down again. To the surprise of no one he was constantly yelled at as a kid to sit while he ate. Even less surprising, it didn't stick.

close enough!!

[efficacy]

She makes a questioning little hum at first when he speaks up, turning a tiny bit on her seat and glancing at him over her shoulder. "Oh," she issues once he elaborates, going silent for a moment over her leftover breakfast. "I'm a little surprised our phones aren't blowing up already." A beat. "Of course, we didn't bring them with us..."

So. She's a little worried to find out, now.

[letmetakeaselfie]

Oh god, their phones. "...Can we just turn them off today?" he asks between bites, a near-whining tone on his lips before he licks them free of any traces of his breakfast. He realizes a beat later that asking was like asking Pepper to truly play house with him. No outside distractions, nothing to save themselves from the full brunt of suddenly spending all day together. He finds his breath quickening at the prospect, his heart picking up a little bit of speed. He really, really doesn't want the lectures and the jeers when he could be-- actually enjoying himself, he realizes. He enjoys spending time with Pepper Potts off the field. Is that so outlandish?

[efficacy]

"It could be for the best," Pepper agrees at length, biting her lip briefly. "I doubt neither one of us wants to deal with all that, and besides. Aren't we supposed to be happily wrapped up in each other? Turning off our phones would... make sense. Right?"

It's a totally legitimate reason, as far as their cover goes. So why does it feel like such an excuse, butterflies tickling at her belly at the thought of spending the whole day with Tony.

[letmetakeaselfie]

A stupid smile spreads over his lips at that, nodding without any true hesitation at her justification. Happy might show up here if his phone went unanswered for too long, but he's willing to take the risk. He also finds gossiping with Rhodey about Pepper less appealing than he normally might. No one else really calls him, though.

"Well, then. What's first on our agenda, honey?" They were up, they had breakfast. He would usually be halfway through a brand new scientific breakthrough by now, but even that feels to Tony like it could wait. He didn't postpone his work for -- anyone, really. But this seems important somehow, like they're on the cusp of something. He knew many women had complained he was too ~intense~ when he did anything close to dating, so he looks away sharply once he actually realizes he's been staring at her this whole time.

[efficacy]

Something twinges deep in her chest at the smile he gives her, endeared by his almost puppy-like eagerness. This is such a drastically different side of him than the one everyone sees outside of this building that she can't help the temptation to see more of it.

She actually doesn't know what's next; she'd half-expected him to disappear down to the workshop for a while. But then her lips curl into a feline smirk, and she responds maybe just a hint gleefully, "Why, breakfast dishes, of course -- sweetheart."

[letmetakeaselfie]

His face falls instantly. He's not even sure what he'd been hoping for, but it definitely wasn't that. Then again, it would go quick like it had last night. And it had been strangely... fun, just washing dishes with her. How ridiculous it even sounds. But Tony gets his game face back on and nods, starting to gather up their bowls and the pan and silverware. He's still drinking his coffee so he leaves that out and rolls up his sleeves. "Your turn to dry, dearest," he reminds her. Let's do this.

[efficacy]

Welcome to the Pepper Potts ethics of work first, play later. Or something like that. She arches a brow slightly at the another petname, smiling as she pushes up her own sleeves and grabs the dish towel. "Sure thing, pookie."

[letmetakeaselfie]

Pookie. He bites the inside of his lip against an even zanier smile, getting the water heated up. "I wonder if now would be a weird time to mention I have a dishwasher." He's still clearly all about this though. He starts to whistle as he pours soap into the sponge. People probably think of him as distinctly not a morning person, but he's always been an early riser. And last night he had rested better than he has in probably years.

[efficacy]

She'd obviously noticed, but it's just a few items so might as well do this the old fashioned way. Besides: "Oh no, you're not weaseling out of your turn to wash," Pepper returns right on the heels of this statement, pointing a finger, but it's all in good humor. Her lips curve a little at his whistling, finding this bit of silly domesticity oddly appealing.

[billionaires]

"I'm washing, baby. I'm washing." He lets the mock-defensiveness wash over her as he gets to work on the little things first, letting the pan soak in the soapy water. "Don't order me around too much, boo-bear. I might like it." Just saying. He ducks his head, immediately abashed by that statement once he connects it to what happened earlier this morning.

[efficacy]

Boo-bear. Why does that sound so cute?? Boo-bear and pookie, good god. Biting her lip against a giggle, she snorts instead. "Maybe you need someone to order you around a bit, snookums."

Her tone is wry, but her cheeks pink just a little at the implications that only occur to her after the fact, focusing on drying the first bowl Tony hands over and trying to ignore the way their fingers brush.

[billionaires]

It's like a static charge, zipping through such a simple contact. He looks at her like she did it on purpose for a second before doubling down on his task. "Getting me on track is a fulltime job, pumpkin. Are you sure you're up for it?"

[efficacy]

It's a challenge as much as a tease, and she can never turn down either. Glancing at him under her lashes, she gives a small, crooked smirk. "Please. I think I could handle you and your track, love muffin."

[billionaires]

Love muffin. He has to laugh at that one, handing over the second bowl. Because he's not looking their arms press and he has to take a sharp inhale to feel steady again. What is that? And why can he only think about getting more of the same? "Then you'd be the only one who ever could." It lacks some of the joke as though he'd forgotten to carry it over. But really, she would be. There's no real point mincing words over it.

[efficacy]

Her lips pull into a smile when he laughs; she can't help but be gratified at making him laugh. Which sounds... a little mushy, but she can deal with that. The press of their arms is warm and familiar by now, which is slightly alarming but nowhere nearly as much as how nice it feels and how much she'd like to feel it again.

"Hmm. And how many have tried?" she asks to distract herself with genuine curiosity rather than (just) teasing him.

[letmetakeaselfie]

"I lost count of how many assistants I've had over the years." Until he'd eventually given up and just become Howard Hughes. "But you know I've never... You know." Had a real girlfriend or anything. He shrugs a shoulder and gets to work scrubbing the pan.

[efficacy]

"Maybe that's the problem, then." She shrugs too, their arms brushing again at the movement. She puts away the second bowl while he starts on the pan. "A girlfriend might whip you into shape more effectively than an employee fearing for their job. Or you just never came across the right kind of assistant."