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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"I never really..." Looked? Is that offensive? He tried not to stare at his female compadrants for obvious reasons, not least of all being his reputation. "I'm slow, give me a break." It's Tony's turn to blush, though he tries in vain to hide some of it behind his glass.

"It's not a bad thing," she hurries to reassure, shrugging slightly as she looks down at her cards. It isn't a very good hand, and they're almost out of the stock pile. "I cover them up anyway most of the time, so you probably wouldn't have."

"Oh." So what is it then? It's on the tip of his tongue when she admits something else. "Why would you do that?" The game is almost entirely forgotten for him in that moment. He needs to know why she hates one of her most attractive features.

"It's..." she begins before trailing off, finding herself a little thrown by the question -- and its answer. Why does she do that, really? She doesn't always bother with it, but... "They're freckles. They're so... I don't know, girly. It hard enough sometimes, being taken seriously out there. Much less with a face full of freckles." Her lips quirk a little self-deprecatingly, shrugging. "And maybe it's a habit left over from adolescence. I used to get teased mercilessly in school about them. The moment I knew how to apply make-up, I hid them. They've lightened some now though, they used to be a lot more visible."

He doesn't like the way she says that. He sets his cards down in favor of picking up his glass, the stretch putting his foot up against her leg. It hadn't been intentional, but he leaves it there, acting like he doesn't notice the shift as he takes another sip through his straw. "They were jealous."

Her lips curve a little more, quietly pleased though she's not entirely sure why -- or that's what she keeps telling herself. The warm press of his foot is also a contributing cause for her smile. "Is that what you think?"

"Genius, remember? That's what I know." He taps a temple and takes another long drink before setting it aside. The classical music and the easy game of cards coupled with this conversation and the alcohol weighing in his belly -- all of this feels so natural. He's rather struck by it, just now. "Seriously, what's not to be jealous of? You're... gorgeous and smart and anyone who judges you by some pigment on your face is-- just threatened." Not that he hasn't been, threatened by her, on occasion. But now he couldn't see himself working with anyone else, even with how they sometimes clash. He can always count on her intuition in the heat of battle, and no one had the capacity to keep up with his erratic nature the way even keel Pepper Potts could.

...Was that too much? Suddenly he feels like he's made some grand speech, pulling his cards back into his hands and staring down at them instead.

Another glib, joking response is right on the tip of her tongue when he unexpectedly goes on and elaborates, sounding shockingly earnest. Thrown off, she gives him a slightly startled look, blinking rapidly. "Oh," she says finally, dumbly, staring down at her cards without really seeing them. It's quite something to be called smart by Tony Stark. She's trying not to dwell on the gorgeous part, but she's sure she's blushing again anyway, a bashful smile she can't quite suppress tugging at her lips. "That's... kindly said. Thanks."

Thankfully they're out of the stock pile and effectively at the end of their practice round, giving her a convenient topic change. She sucks air through her teeth and shakes her head as she counts. "Well, I've got a set of fours and unmatched for... twenty-one."

"3,4,5,6 of spades... Jack, Queen, King of hearts." Sorry, he kind of snuck up and won that hand. He smiles sweetly as he shows her his cards and gathers up the rest to shuffle. "You're keeping score, right, J?"

"Nice try, sir, but Ms. Potts and yourself agreed that this was to be a practice hand only."

Oops, he just got told. He's going to drink the rest of his drink through the straw while shuffling now.

Pepper gives a small sound caught between a scoff and a grumble, frowning as she discards hers and picks up her glass instead, taking a healthy sip to soothe the sting. Like Tony, she despises losing in anything. "That's right, you tell him, JARVIS."

"I really did forget," he protests, though that could easily be the alcohol speaking. He taps his ankle against her thigh once, having forgotten where it ended up, as he begins dealing a fresh hand. "It's on for real now though." And he already wants another drink. That's not good, probably.

"Uh-huh," Pepper returns with a note of wry disbelief, though the hint of a smile indicates it's all good. She drains the last sip from her own glass, humming as she sets it back down. "Yeah it is, and this time you'd better be prepared to suck it."

He laughs a little raucously at that, shaking his head. "How much are you going to judge me if I just bring the vodka bottle over here?" He's real sick of getting up and he needs the liquid courage right now. He tends to think it makes him better to be around, honestly.

"A lot. A whole lot of judging, to be honest," she retorts dryly, trying unsuccessfully to tamp down on the slanted smile, more of a smirk. "So maybe you'd better bring the rest of that sparkling wine, too."

Tony adjusts the stock pile before getting up one last time. The music seems to have progressed into some easier tunes. The Eagles and the like. He comes back a second later with the juice, the vodka and the wine held against his chest. He carefully deposits the fake champagne in front of her, and the juice in the middle, already topping up his glass as he sits back down. Now he has everything he needs. Good company, a fun game... He smiles at her then, unbridled affection really.

"Judge away, Ms. Sparkling Wine."

"Don't mock, it's rude," she chides playfully as she pours herself a glass of said wine and nothing else, focusing on her task to evade that warm look of his that's burrowing right under her skin. "You may start, since you apparently won the practice round..."

"Not mocking," he protests, already starting his turn at her behest however. He puts an Ace in the discard and realizes they never established house rules. "Is Ace low or low and high?"

"Low only," she supplies, rearranging her own cards into order. "More challenging that way." Thankfully, she has a slightly more promising hand this time around; she wasn't kidding earlier, it's going down now!!

"Oh, alright. I see how it is." Tony plucks a new card and sighs, rearranging his cards too as once again his leg finds hers under the table. He already has three of a kind and possibly a run if he gets lucky enough, but he's competitive enough to push himself fully into this, tipsy or not.

Pepper shifts her own leg in response, ostensibly stretching a little and making herself more comfortable, but really it's just to give her an excuse to press into the touch of his leg better.

"Ever play the strip version?" The words are out of her mouth before her brain can actually process them, biting her tongue as she stares down at her cards. "...Well, that was not what I was supposed to say." So what did she mean to say?? She doesn't even know. This is why she doesn't drink.

Oh. God. Did those words just happen? His breath stutters a little at the press of her leg against his, solid and warm and pleasant. His face feels hot from drinking, which can only mean he should grab for his glass now, right?

"Well, yeah. In my wilder days." He's certainly not about that in his current circle of friends. "Can you imagine it now? My abs would just get jealous and leave me." The tiniest of smug little smiles edges into the corner of his mouth to stay as the glass gets put down again.

What was she supposed to say? He never asked back and now he's dying to know, but somehow questions like that only seem invasive when he directs them. From her it was endearing, actually.

Pepper purses her lips and raises a brow at the abs comment, tamping down on any flights of fancy it elicited in her with slightly blushing cheeks. Wetting her lips, she discards a useless card and pulls a fresh one, latching on the subject with a bit of gratefulness he didn't think to ask what did she actually meant to say -- she honestly couldn't tell.

"Strip poker happened a few times in college. Yale mathletes knew how to party," she adds wryly, smirking. "But someone always ended up counting the cards despite the rules forbidding it, it was a mess."

He has to laugh. Ah, nerds. His people. "I was like, twelve in college so I wasn't invited to the fun parties." He mostly just hung out with Rhodey and studied way too much, spoilers. Usually simultaneously. What an innocent time in his life it had been really, in comparison to the raucous coed experience painted in any movie. "Are you suggesting we should kick our game up a notch?" Tony asks with the straightest face he can manage at the moment, his own brow shooting way up.

"Mm, that would put a damper on things. But at least you were saved from the terrible decisions young people tend to make in college." The question garners him a quick, somewhat startled look before she returns her gaze to her cards, bringing her free hand up in front of her mouth as she coughs delicately.

"Um, no," she denies, but it's not entirely convinced. Lips pursing speculatively, she thinks about it for a beat, a sudden bout of impishness coursing through her. Or maybe it's just the alcohol. "I mean, that would probably be making it a little too challenging..." The quick glance she gives him looks decidedly that; challenging, goading even.

"I just pushed off the terrible decisions until after," he points out, shuffling cards around in his hand needlessly. God. He meets her gaze and it's like a livewire -- he needs to stop falling into these traps. "Don't tell me you're scared, Potts." No, with the way his breathing picks up that's definitely him.

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