✵ the conversation stopped and i looked down at the ring ✵

[letmetakeaselfie]

This has the makings of every Tony Stark party to date, plus a few. It's loud, dark; and so totally nineties. It's his era, he can't help himself. Big yellow sunglasses accompany his light-colored suit, hair slicked back and a smile glued on his face. He's ready to make this an affair no one will ever forget.

Before making his way out, he stops to see her, hanging in the doorway as she pulls on her dress. "Did I get you that?" he asks, slowly slipping into the room to help her zip. It's been a few days since he's seen her -- they've barely spoken. Sometimes he gets up long before her and is in the lab long after she gets home. Though they sleep in the same bed, it's as if they lead entirely separate lives at times. He owes her so much more, this week especially, and this is his grand occasion to make up all his misgivings.

He smiles softly, thinking of their night under the stars. Eating diner burgers and garlic fries and looking over their life together. It was impossible to look forward so they had looked back, enjoyed the past for what it was. Though he had never accepted there wouldn't be a future for them, he had had to entertain the possibility that his father would let him down one last time. Fortunately for everyone, Howard had come through, and just in the nick of time.

Tony's forty today and it feels ancient. He's known Pepper for well over half his life and here they are. Once her dress is secure, he pulls her into his arms from behind, hands winding possessively around her waist. "I can tell everyone to go home." Maybe he really should have listened -- made this an intimate affair. But the wedding would be small -- quaint and New England in every way. The engagement had to be big. West Coast big. He sighs against the side of her face, unable to keep from grinning.

--

He is very, very drunk when he gets up on stage, but no one here expects anything less. He has a glass of champagne and he calls Pepper out of the crowd. This is it; their moment. The one his family's been pushing him for since the moment they'd met. "Damn," he says into the mic as she stands, whistling lowly and shaking his head. "What took me so long?"

It gets laughter, of course, but then it's quiet like a library. The New Haven library where they first met, even. No music, no nothing. When Pepper joins him , a walk that seems to take forever, he doesn't hesitate to get down on one knee, his glass left on the podium as he pulls a box out of his pocket.

"I know you wanted to keep this small, so naturally I did the exact opposite." He drops the microphone so he can pry open the box, a giant but tasteful vintage stone shining up at her. Tony swallows back his nerves, playing up the cheese for the crowd, tipping his head with a lopsided smile. "Now that I'm not dying, what do you say?"

Comments

[efficacy]

Pepper is working the crowd, and another glass of champagne. Tony's parties are always big, loud affairs, but she's a little impressed at the turn out for this particular event, spotting several Hollywood names and wondering how many of them are here just to be photographed for the next issues of every tabloid out there. She frowns a little, thinking she just saw another Kardashian. How many are there??

Starlet wannabes are forgotten as Pepper spots a familiar redhead in a sleek black gown. While she's still feeling slightly ambiguous about Natasha's involvement in the recent events, she supposes she can't hold a grudge against the other woman for doing her job.

"Ms. Rushman," she greets shrewdly with a knowing little smile, uncertain whether the spy would appreciate her breaking out 'agent Romanoff' instead in this crowd. "Glad you could join us tonight."

[relicta]

She smiles sweetly, turning away from the gift table to meet Pepper's gaze. Just the person she wanted to see. "I wouldn't miss it." It's easy to identify the uncertainty pouring off of her then. She can't blame Pepper for being cold. Perhaps Fury and herself were a bit hasty. Then again, he calls the shots; Nat's just along for the ride.

"But don't worry, I'm here as myself tonight," she assures with a little eyebrow raise, tipping in almost in conspiracy. Natasha Romanoff scarcely existed outside of S.H.I.E.L.D., Black Widow missions, or the occasional jaunt with Captain America. This is certainly her first public appearance in many, many years. "I wouldn't want my congratulations to seem hollow after all."

A beat. "Congratulations, Pepper."

[efficacy]

Pepper still isn't sure who Natasha Romanoff actually is. How much of her is real, the actual person underneath all the aliases and the mask of Black Widow. She wonders if even those closest to the spy know. She'd like to be able to say she can trust Natasha if only because she's Peggy's recruit, but Pepper's pragmatic enough to understand the need for the ruthless people in an organization like SHIELD; the people willing to go the extra mile and dabble in the gray areas of morality to get the job done. But Pepper can set aside her wariness for today, at least, in attempt to forge a better understanding between them.

"Thank you... Natasha," Pepper adds, smiling more genuinely now. "I appreciate it." Her expression shifts into something gently amused a moment later. "You know, if you ever want a break from SHIELD, you should give me a call. I could put your efficiency into good use at SI."