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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"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.

"What would I have to be scared of?" she questions innocently as she too shuffles her cards, completely and totally bluffing. Her heart is hammering like crazy in her chest, a weird mixture of anticipation and dread prickling at her skin. Tomorrow, she'd remind herself yet again as to why she didn't drink.

"Nothing," he answers, too openly. He never wants her to have to fear anything while they're together. That's a partner thing, right? Tony's doubting himself more and more with each pleasant burn of vodka. "...I hope for the sake of those Mathlete's blood pressure you never lost." Okay, maybe mostly his blood pressure. He draws a card though he hadn't meant to do that. He discards it right after, wasting his turn.

"I was one of the few people actually trying to play by the rules, so how do you think I did?" she replies on a slight laugh that borders on a giggle. In other words, yeah, she'd lost -- blushing a little at the admittance when the words actually catch up with her brain. God, she's actually tipsy. She doesn't even notice his blunder with the cards, too focused on her own; or looking like she is, at least.

Oh, god. His eyes track over her body before he can stop himself, mouth drying out but it's not because he wants a drink this time. "Lucky Mathletes." Tony looks away when he realizes he's acting like a creep. He's not supposed to objectify Pepper, they're partners. Even if they are pretending to date, it's just-- Tony swallows, shaking his head. "I know you can go down. Stop stalling." His eyes jump back up, not even connecting how wrong that sounded he's so frustrated with his own hand.

"You didn't lose anything much. Like, literally," she says as if to comfort him, re-arranging her cards without making much sense of them. Dear lord what is she saying? Why is the saying? She needs to be stopped.

Encouraged by the alcohol, Pepper's unedited, instant reaction is a cross between a scoff of playful dismay and a snort of laughter, goggling at him incredulously. "Excuse--" Oh, wait. That's... yeah, totally not what he meant at all. "Never mind," she goes on a bit apologetically, more laughter burbling at the back of her throat as she discards a two of diamonds and snatches up the nine of hearts Tony abandoned in the discard pile previously.

"I really doubt that," he sends right back, equally without thinking. And god, her laugh. He's laughing too, in no time at all. "That was it, right?"

He draws a card and has to blink at it a few times. Did he really just get that lucky. "Uh-oh, too slow." He lays out his cards, all four 7s and 8,9,10 of clubs. He gestures for her hand and shakes his head. "Come on, lay 'em on me."

Pepper makes a slight moue of disgruntlement as she takes a look at Tony's hand and, with a slightest of sighs, lays them out. All she has are three 5s and 7, 8, 9 of hearts.

"This game wasn't such a fun idea, after all," she says with a slight sniff, draining the last gulp from her glass.

Usually he'd throw this back in her face. That was a good hand, he just got lucky though and he knows it. And for some reason he feels... bad. He's never felt bad for winning before. His toes curl against her leg, eyebrows knitting together and god -- he's drunk, isn't he? She's right, this was a terrible idea.

"Sorry. I'm... out of practice." With fun.

Pepper glances down at his foot against her leg, looking as if she's contemplating something for a beat. Tipping her head, she watches him for a few moments, a hint of glassiness in her gaze betraying the alcohol in her blood, before shaking her head.

"No. You shouldn't be sorry about winning," she says, reaching out to grab the wine bottle by the neck and emptying what's left in it into her glass. "I just don't like losing. It's a... character fault."

"You don't have any character faults." He really sounds like he believes it too for how quickly it comes out. He sits up a little, his foot dragging along her calf as he does. "Do you want to play another round and I'll let you win?" Wait. "I mean I'll... I wasn't supposed to say that part."

Pepper gives him a tight-lipped glance at his claim, a mix of fondness and disbelief -- but then he offers to let her win and she just looks miffed for a brief moment.

"No!" she bursts out laughing once that moment passes, picking up her glass. "Now I can't trust you not to lose on purpose."

He bites into his lip, watching her as if there's nothing else in the world he'd rather look at. His gaze is a little glassy, but as focused as it is in the lab, singular and unending. "Okay, so... What now?" Meaning, if not Rummy then what? At some point his playlist ended and now he's just staring, a little slack-jawed. He reaches for his drink too, polishing it off in two swallows.

"I don't know," she confesses softly after a beat, getting a little lost in his eyes. Realizing she's staring, she ducks her head and averts her gaze, her already pink cheeks blushing a little more as she exhales a breathy laugh. "...Day drinking is probably not the kind of example we should be setting, you know." Just a thought.

"You are so pretty when you blush." Oh wow, he has to stop doing that. He looks away too, though there's not much else to look at so he winds up just swiveling his head right back. "I wasn't aware we were... setting examples here. Iron badass power couples can have fun too." It sounds defensive even to his ears, but he has a point, and it's not like anyone has to know they're day drinking.

"Only then?" she volleys back jokingly to distract from the fact that the innocent comment only makes her blush more, abashed -- and pleased, in some recess of her mind she doesn't dwell on even as tipsy as she is. She sobers a little, however, at the defensive note to his voice, biting her lip. It really was just an errant comment.

"No. I don't suppose we are." Drawing in a deep breath, she pushes some hair behind her ear, and starts to get up off the floor a bit shakily. "Excuse me, I have to... I'll be right back."

They've been sitting and drinking for a while and frankly, her bladder can't take it anymore so to the bathroom she goes.

He nods after a beat, a little dazed by the sudden departure. Though he can't say it's a disappointing view. Oh god, he's staring at her ass. That's... He shouldn't do that. After a few seconds of sitting around waiting for her, he realizes that she had the right idea. Okay it's time to stand. Standing is no big deal. He can stand. Slowly, he teeters to his feet, blinking heavily as everything shifts at once. Still, no big deal. He's gotten through worse in much harder places to navigate.

Once he gets moving it starts to get easier, but by the time he reaches the door he's just so happy that he made it he forgets that being the closest bathroom to the living room it's also the one Pepper is most likely to be occupying. He barges in, but thankfully she'd already made it to the sink. And now he's just staring at her and why isn't he closing the door? And... "Do you want to make out?" That is NOT what he's supposed to say.

Pepper startles a little when Tony suddenly barges in. She could have sworn she locked the door? Or... did she? Now that she thinks about it, she can't be all that sure after all. She rinses the soap off her hands and reaches for the hand towel when those words come out of Tony's mouth, her lips parting in astonishment when she processes the question, gaping at him. That was unexpected.

"Uh. In the bathroom?" What? That's not entirely what she'd planned on saying. Squinting at him a little, she posits slowly, "Do... you want to make out?"

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