penistower | Entries tagged with tony stark

After trying to get Bruce and his cousin's help, Tony is still at a loss for how to get back home and the only thing he really knows is running scenarios in his lab. The farmhouse is fiercely protected even if the security measures aren't exactly the same as he's set up, funny enough they do have the exact same property with a very similar layout. He's devised an entire plan of how to break into his own house while Pepper is at work and Morgan is with her grandma, but failed to realize the system would be calibrated for only his family since he's no longer a thing in this universe...

So anyway that's how AU!Tony Stark ends up being detailed by some very angry robots and Pepper is essentially getting a Mayday on every device she has simultaneously to inform her of the "intrusion." Over the din of alarms and a smooth female AI's voice can be heard Tony himself apologizing to Pepper while yelling at Dum-e in his usual brutish way.

"Sorry hon... Pepper, sorry. I never-" He's cut off by a sharp pincer prodding at him from behind. "Careful with that thing! You really don't recognize me? I taught you better manners than this, didn't I?? Well, not me, but- OW, seriously?"

billionaires

"Ms. Potts is clear of the structure," comes through his earpiece and Tony holds out his arm to summon the suit back to himself. One gauntlet flies through the air and attaches smoothly (if a bit painful, like his adrenaline isn't canceling that out anyway.) Only half of the suit comes to him before the second impact comes and he's falling fast for the ocean. Not ideal. What is taking the rest of the suit so long? A different model's helmet falls after him and he just barely gets it on and sealed before he breaches the water. He's never been a praying man, but he says a tiny one then and it's the last thing he remembers before JARVIS finally gets his act together and blasts them off for the sky. What he has no way of knowing is that Pepper is still wearing the rest of his suit at takeoff...

Tony barely comes to long enough for a completely unavoidable crash-landing into the snow. He yells right before impact without knowing that Pepper can hear him too through his helmet on her head as she dents the snow nearby. Thankfully, the suit still takes the most of the hit even though they aren't wearing the whole thing properly.

"That's... brisk," he commentates, groaning at the way the nav systems keep blinking out. NOT GOOD. All of this is very not great. "Where are we - upstate? J?"

"Rose Hill, Tennessee, sir."

Tony argues with the AI for a full minute before JARVIS decides he needs a nap. That's when Tony regains his peripheral vision and sees her, forgetting about the snow and the cold as he sprints over to her and falls at her side. This is his biggest screw-up to date, no question.

"Pepper? Pepper! Wake up. Wake up, Pep. I'm sorry... no! Wake up." Tears are gathered in his eyes as he shakes her approaching violently, pausing in between to check her heartbeat though it's impossible to distinguish from the pounding he already hears in his own head.

billionaires

He quit after Ultron. He was supposed to be done anyway but it's never that simple between himself and Iron Man, is it? The man and the myth, mere human versus legend. They're not his family in the strictest sense, but he'd still lay down his life for any of them any time, even Wanda; and even now that he's a father himself. Maybe having Morgan had even increased that drive in him for peace, safety and the wellbeing of everyone he once called Friend. In the strictest sense, Ultron was the precursor to Thanos and that's why he'll always feel responsible for putting an end to this. Wherever the chips fall.

It's this desperation to get a lead that has him in extreme sleepless research mode all over again. Tony knows there has to be something out there - anything - that can slow this guy down before he collects 'em all. That's when he gets the call, in the middle of the night. It's not like Nick has ever been considerate about things like this, and it harkens back to his "consultant" days. Not that those lasted very long either.

"I'm not interested," he lies, but Fury accurately points out Tony wouldn't have answered if he weren't. Dr. Strange found an artifact in the process of running through every possible outcome. He's still in the Matrix or he might have the decency to deliver it himself, but as usual, they need Tony to figure it out. He's sure someone has to be a better fit for this project than him, but they're running low on options - and allies. They also know Banner is much better at saying 'no' than he is.

It's how he ends up back in New York, probably the last place he wants to be, staring at a room full of dweebs who have no idea what a thing does. It gives him very creepy déjà vu and he's not digging it, not at all.

"Alright, everyone clear out. Maybe it's shy." There's a massive energy signature coming off this amulet, but it isn't an infinity gem. So what is it? The answer comes when he's finally too sleep-deprived to babysit his own algorithm and he drifts off with the totem close enough to reach out and touch. He "wakes up" in what seems like a dimly lit living room, though even Tony's subconscious assumes he's dreaming. "I'm home, honey... just tell me where you are. I'll come to you."

It's spooky in here and getting spookier, especially as he realizes he doesn't have the arc reactor. He must have left behind it on the desk... All of the sudden, he pinches the inside of his arm, eyes widening when he feels real pain. Okay, yeah, this isn't even remotely normal.

"You've got a lot of 'splaining to do, Lucy..." He turns to see a woman standing there behind him - had she always been there? Her dark features are nothing compared to the stormy look she wears, even while holding a doughnut. Wait, is he sure he isn't dreaming?

billionaires

Tony has been on edge lately, almost comparable to the time he completely spiraled out and got their house in Malibu turned into a crater. He's thinking about that now, at midnight, sitting in the dark of his workshop beneath the farmhouse. It's nothing as extravagant or technologically advanced as before, but it gets the job done. He wasn't supposed to be fabricating suits here anyway, but the world never stops ending on him, does it? The only light is his arc reactor necklace hanging off the bench in front of him and bathing only the space immediately around his desk in that familiar blue light. He would never admit that it comforts him, not just in what it can do and what it represents, but just viscerally. This little device kept him alive for so long and now it's just an accessory.

It reflects off his face and eyes as he opens the video recorder on his computer, Dum-e flexing curiously behind him in the frame. Tony is too exhausted to tell him to go lay down somewhere else like the loyal dog he is. He scrubs at his face and deletes the last video before starting again, he has no way of knowing how many takes he's done though surely FRIDAY is keeping track even muted to keep from waking his girls.

"Hey, girly-girl," Tony greets the screen softly, unable to keep the smile from springing onto his face even if his daughter isn't actually here. It's morbid, maybe, but he remembers how he felt seeing his father on that video reel telling him for the first time he cared. He hopes that isn't how it goes down for her, but he really feels like he has no control over it at this point. "If you're watching this... well. Then your dad did something very stupid. Like epically this time and I didn't find a way to take it back. And for that I'm... so deeply sorry."

He has to pause here, it's always where he starts crying or gets too choked up to continue. As he starts his spiel over again for what seems like the millionth time, it doesn't make him any less emotional.

"But you'll always be my girl, Morgan. You'll carry me with you even when you wish you didn't." His laugh is watery and self-deprecating here. "My dad was a cold man, but I still carry him with me every day of my life. People always told me how much we were alike, much to my chagrin. Here's hoping you only get the best parts, and the rest is all your mom. So like, 20-80."

Tears are gathering in his eyes and he drops his head into his hand, not noticing Pepper creeping in behind him or he'd at least make a show of hiding what he's doing down here alone.

billionaires

He's looking across the balcony at Pepper and it's like he's seeing her for the first time. Tony thought he had come here to this party to show the world he isn't an invalid like Obadiah has been spinning to the press. But when they dance he realizes why he really came here - or at least why he wants to believe he did. She's leaning closer and his heart is pounding, that weird tinny reverberation of the arc reactor ringing in his ears as he leans towards her too. They're so close, somehow closer than they've ever been despite all of the flirting and what he might characterize as close calls over the years looking back.

Before they can get any closer though, she's flicking hair out of her eye and asking him for a drink. He thinks it's the first time she's ever actively demanded something from him and it strokes a nerve inside his body he thought was long dead as he licks across his lips distractedly and stiltedly nods. Tony turns on his heel to head to the bar, realizing at the same time she calls after him that he has absolutely no idea what she drinks. He's happy for the excuse to turn back around, eyes glistening warmly as they catch and hold to hers, grinning by the time she gets her ridiculous drink order out.

Of course, when he gets to the bar everything about the night turns a full 180 degrees. This woman - this reporter - she has no sympathy for what he's been through and why should she? Tony doesn't look for comfort in the arms of strangers like her as he once did. He still swallows when she gets closer, remembering telling Pepper to show this woman out, as he'd done a thousand times before with all manner and variety of different women who crossed his path. He takes the disturbing photographs from her hands and there's no hiding the horror writ across his face as he flips through them, his stomach sinking lower with each image.

"When were these taken?" he remembers asking her, but then he's outside questioning Obadaiah before he fully processes what's happening. The flash of camera lights blind him momentarily as the other man's deep voice echoes after he's left, the heat of his big oven mitt of a hand burning a hole in his suit. He was the one who turned the board of his own company against him. The man he'd thought of as a second father, maybe even a kinder one than Howard had been. Feeling bile claw up the back of his throat, he darts back inside the same distracted way, forgetting about Christine or the drinks he'd left behind as he all but sprints for the roof access.

"Potts?" he calls, folding over his knees to clutch at his chest before he can even see if she's still up here. Why would she be? He must have abandoned her ages ago. If he could just catch his breath then he could go back to the party and track her down.

letmetakeaselfie

He knows Steve still doesn't get him. Maybe he doesn't need to. The man was a lot different than the one he'd expected to pop out of the ice anyway, ready made to validate his every fear. That had been naive, sure, but the betrayal still comes as something of a shock. Not because he thinks he deserves better, but because he thought that Steve was better than this. That he knew what teammates really meant.

Tony's been wrong about a lot of things in his life, but to date being wrong about Steve Rogers hurts the most. He knows that's his own fault too -- he had put Steve up on a pedestal rather than regarding him as an equal. They had fought at the Barton's farm and only barely made up. Things are falling apart, and he can't be the only mender anymore.

The phonecall comes late on a Sunday, though not so late that it's crossed over into early again. He just needs to hear this once, in the other man's voice. It isn't about blame, but it is a make-or-break moment.

letmetakeaselfie

What hurts the most is not being trusted -- hushed words and secrets. After Ultron, he knows he has no right to expect to be in the loop, he gets that. But that doesn't mean he has to like it. That it magically stops being painful. It's how he locks himself in his workshop for days on end, much to the chagrin of one Pepper Potts; all until he finds him. The secret. The thing no one will talk about except in Steve's ear, away from Tony. It's deliberate and he hates it, and he's going to find out why.

Tireless, he pours over old documents and files SHIELD was supposed to strip his access to. Kind of hard to do anymore when they don't technically exist. The answer is here somewhere and he won't stop until he finds it. Or more appropriately, who.

It's like unwrapping a very disappointing present on Christmas morning; a feeling Tony is all too familiar with, but this one has a suckerpunch waiting for him behind the punchline. A betrayal wrapped in a betrayal, and he feels trapped by the knowledge. A part of him wishing he had never sought it out. But once he gets over the initial shock of it, he realizes how poetic it is, that everything has finally made it full circle. A man who his father searched the world over for one his son inevitably found, and Howard had been gunned down trying by none other than Steve's best friend.

It truly isn't the murder that hurts -- a tragedy that he had always been told was a car crash, nothing more. A headline that had made him drive at ten-and-two and buckle up even for the briefest trips; never letting anyone drive him anywhere but himself or Happy Hogan. All of this paranoia predicated on a lie, and yet. That bubble pops easily, as if it was something he'd known all along. And maybe it had been, on some level. At least since Obadiah Stane showed his true colors. Nothing Tony had ever been told his whole life turned out to be right at face value, so why would this be any different?

Bucky Barnes, a lost soul. A fallen soldier; and a hero. Stolen away the same way he had been, except he hadn't been left to his own devices long enough to break free. As much as his heart pains for his friend's silence, his empathy is more for another. For a man who was taken from himself and from his home, taken apart and put back together wrong. He of all people knows what that feels like. And yet Steve hadn't trusted him to be mature enough to handle it.

Perhaps more than Nat and Steve's silence, his own failure even hurts a little more, twisting the knife into his guts deeper as he stares into a safemode black-and-white screen at 3:23 am.

That's that for him. He sleeps a deeper sleep that night than he had in weeks, and he dreams. He dreams of that night, the way he had so many other nights, except this time the truth fills in. It isn't a car crash but a coverup, a dastardly deed done dirty in the shroud of darkness and kept from the light for 25 long years running. It doesn't wake him, the way the other night-terrors have. He sleeps and dreams through the whole story, and when he wakes he feels an inexplicable peace settle over his body. And he knows what he has to do.

Finding Bucky doesn't take nearly as long as finding out about him, and now he waits. He can only hope the other man will meet him, in a quiet cafe away from prying eyes as they'd mutually arranged. Public, but private. A safe, neutral meeting space. There was something to be said for those.

No matter how "discreet" he was trying to be, Tony still stands out like a sore thumb. He has on red-paned sunglasses and a leather jacket layered over a flannel and a Def Leppard t-shirt. His jeans probably cost more than this whole building. This is his roughing it, okay, and the bright smile he fixes on Bucky Barnes when he walks in is one that might otherwise be designated for a long lost friend, and not the man you found out murdered your parents the night before. What can he say? He's an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

letmetakeaselfie

You don't gotta say it, I know you ain't stayin' over
And I won't even mention the fact that you're never sober
I never know which side I'm gonna get tonight
And the closer we get, the less I think I know you

But you're just my type
The kind that only calls me late at night
You can't decide if you'll be yours or mine
I hate to say it, but you're just my type

This trip was going to change everything. Stark Industries was already unbeatable, sure, at the top of the market. But if he could sell the Jericho missile to the Afghani rebels? That was it. He could basically retire. Not to mention it would be a fun ride, and he's excited to take it with Rhodey even if the other man doesn't always approve of his methods.

A nervousness settles over him the day before, a feeling that goes far beyond his usual neuroses. Something that shakes him to his core and makes him rethink himself for the first time in a long time. If in the wrong hands, the Jericho missile could be the end of the US occupation in Kandahar. Not a gruesome footnote to a war they were not winning or losing, but an end. The end. And that would be on his hands. But it's not going to go down that way, right? That's just paranoia talking.

Tony has witnessed a change in himself. A steady evolution into a man who cares very much about others. Not what they think of him, or how the media reports, but... them. Their well-being. It hasn't been comfortable for him, but it all started with Pepper's birthday last year. It always went more or less the same, he would forget and she would remind. Their banter was comfortable and familiar. He sits on the couch with a glass of scotch as he pours over the conversation for the millionth time. What's different? What's missing?

Her birthday is rapidly approaching again, and he won't forget. He'll bring her back something from his trip and he'll try. But why does he want to? And what does all of this have to do with the missile test?

It's late, he should be packing. Instead, his fingers dial her number -- she's the only person he knows who will talk him out of something if it's actually a bad idea. Even James panders to him, he isn't blind to it as the other man thinks. "Sorry for calling... at a time you were probably sleeping." Wow he really does suck, she sounds tired.

cheeseburgerfirst

It isn't like all the other times. It isn't even like the first time -- Afghanistan -- her original trauma. She doesn't even remember getting home, getting her fucked up suit off, any of it. After Sokovia and Pietro... everything just stops. Fades to black. Even being home is a cold comfort because she doesn't feel Pepper at her side. Was she here last night? Did she tell her what happened? Toni starts awake, his looming face in her mind. And that voice. Her stomach turned. She created that thing and it almost destroyed the world.

Toni looks around and realizes she's on the couch. It must be late into the afternoon the way the Sun streams insistently through the curtains. She gets up too quick, her legs like rubber and hardly supporting her. She starts to go down, but catches herself on the arm of the sofa and slowly drags herself to stand. She feels clean, physically anyway. She's wearing fresh pajamas. Pepper must have been here last night, she must have helped her the same way she always has. Tony sighs and goes to the coffee maker, predictably, to start a pot. She then goes down the hall to pee only to realize she also wants to throw up. A memory filters in hazily of getting up to retch throughout the night, despite her stomach being emptied hours earlier. It's like being hungover except so much worse, the night coming back to her in disturbing little snippets.

She forces herself out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen, relief tangling with fear and other unnamed emotions when she sees Pepper standing there. Though she can't be sure if it's welcome now, her body compels her forward, wrapping her arms around the other woman and letting her head hang on her shoulder. Somehow she always makes it home, even when there's no chance of survival out there. She knows that's because of this woman in her arms, that she can even muster the strength to get back. To go on. She swallows and clings a little tighter. "I'm so sorry, baby."

letmetakeaselfie

The ride back to their little townhouse from the new training facility is a quiet one. He's glad they have a place in New York again, even if he loves their Connecticut house. Even if from now on that will always be home. This place is Switzerland, and he's glad to be away from the excitement of space aliens and new alliances and for it to just be them again. He unlocks the door for her and touches a hand to the small of her back as he follows her into the condo, just wanting to stay connected in some tangible way.

"So... I may have invited the Guardians to our wedding." Probably should have cleared that with her first, huh?

letmetakeaselfie

He's been getting ready for The Big Move (TM) ever since things went horribly, terribly wrong. He can't look around at this place he made for his friends and not see them in every beam, in every metaphorical brick. It's his fault -- the same way it always is. In some abstract way he's blamed, but he only ever tried to do right by them. They were the only ones he ever truly had and now they're gone.

Tony weaves his way through boxes and half-packed knick-knacks to get another cup of coffee. He wishes Pepper were here, he wishes Steve were here. Happy is always around to back him up, but it isn't the same. A notification bell rings somewhere, he thinks it's the lobby. "I'll get this one!" he shouts over the din, interrupting Happy as he tries to handle absolutely everything. As grateful as he is, he can't just sit around. Though if it's another delivery he's actually going to scream -- they need stuff out of the Tower, not more stuff to add on.

The ride down in the elevator gives him time to clear his mind. Not that it does much use, but it at least gives him some semblance of a half of a break-like moment. He takes a sip from his lifeblood and steps out into the receiving room for the Tower. He smiles brightly at the receptionist, God only knows what her name is. He hopes the agency has already placed her at a new job; he reminds himself to check. She tells him cheerfully there's someone waiting for him in Happy's office. He thanks her and heads -- one way, but she course-corrects him in the opposite direction. It's been so long since he's been involved in the minutia of SI he really doesn't know where his head of security's office is. Good going, Stark.

He smooths his rumpled clothes and knocks on the glass where a woman stands, with her back to him. Something is familiar about her; he thinks it's her perfume. Tony tries to tap into that guy who used to do this everyday and just get through whatever this interaction is about to be. Realizing he didn't have to announce his presence in his own offices at all, he brushes by her and stands in behind the desk, setting the coffee cup down on the top before facing their guest.

"Hogan's busy, I hope I'll do." It's a joke more than a boast -- especially since Happy is so much better at all of this than he could ever be. If it weren't for him and Pepper he would've ran this place into the ground a long time ago. But he hesitates, studying her face. His heart begins to pick up speed before full comprehension can dawn. It can't be-- There's no way. He knows better than to assume that, though. "Peggy." And if he looks like he's seen a ghost, well.

letmetakeaselfie

Rhodey is distracting the government types long enough for Tony to hack into the airspace and make sure none of this is being recorded. He loops the moments before the Milano pierces the atmosphere and plays them back, knowing by the time he's out of the system and they figure it out they won't be able to prove it was anything but a technical malfunction. He does all of this from his phone as he stands near the landing pad with Steve flanking his side. He's trying to do things right this time -- no more lone gunslinger act, as Pepper had phrased it.

He looks over his sunglasses at the spaceship as it decompresses, wondering who he's just invited over for dinner. Hopefully they're friendly... When the platform descends it really is just like Close Encounters of the Third Kind. He can't help but geek out a little. He'd technically met space aliens before, and Asgardians, etc. but somehow this is way cooler. "Welcome to Earth and please watch your step, we don't have liability insurance yet."

letmetakeaselfie

It was harder for him to let go of having Steve around than he'd thought. It had only been a few weeks he'd stayed at the Tower, but he had really gotten used to him being there. And then it became a moot point as he sold the Tower and started spending time in Connecticut with Pepper and her mom. The little house they'd bought to get away from everything had somehow turned into Home. Just a quiet slice of New England that Tony once thought was for anyone but him.

He hears Steve's bike rumbling outside and runs out like a kid whose best buddy is coming over. Not such an inaccurate comparison really. He's wearing a beat up looking t-shirt with Nat's black widow symbol on it and loose-fitting jeans. He always tries to pick up merch that isn't for himself, Bucky or Hulk when he sees it. "Hey, buddy, you made it." He takes a spin on the top porch step to indicate to Steve he should look around. It's a plain Colonial from the outside with a little bolt of land. He and Pepper have been landscaping recently judging by freshly cut shrubs and big hydrangea bushes.

"We've got iced tea, you want iced tea?" Tony claps Steve on the shoulder and leads him inside the second he's near. The front door opens up to zig-zag stairs with a big glass wall in the center Tony implanted with led lights. Right now they're flashing red, white, and blue for Steve of course. The furnishings are rustic and the place looks good and lived in. There's a big tank full of goldfish by the window in the living room to their right, a big fireplace taking up most of the room with mismatched hearthstones that look to be hand-picked.

"I'll get us some tea, then we'll go down to the workshop." Tony moves to the left and into the kitchen. It's open and airy, big french doors leading out to the back deck in the center. He pours them two glasses, pressing one into Steve's hand and taking a sip from his as he tries to gauge the other man's reaction. "You didn't have to come all the way out here. I could've met you at Headquarters." He's pleasantly surprised Nat and Bucky let him out for a whole day on his own, actually.

letmetakeaselfie

His heart is still hammering as the lights stop flashing and the press din dies down. Nine freaking years. Did he really let it go that long? And yet it doesn't feel long at all, or even like reality right now despite the ring imprinted against his hand as he clutches hers like a lifeline. The adrenaline is starting to wear off as he looks over at her, knowing this probably wasn't how she wanted this to go down. Still... she seems happy. And that's all he's ever wanted.

"Is the ring okay?" he asks lamely, taking up her other hand and gazing deeply into her eyes.

billionaires

The Tower is a frenzy, the way it has been every year since Steve Rogers returned to the land of the living on July the 4th. No matter how much and how often the man insists that Tony and everyone else just celebrate as usual and leave his birthday out of it... well. He's ignored. Loudly. And with many, many fireworks.

Tony had always loved the holiday and gone all out with lavish parties all as an excuse to show off his pyrotechnics, but even he took it to a whole other level when the element of Steve's birthday came into play. Pepper and Rhodey are hard at work in the kitchen and there are people absolutely everywhere. All with garish red, white and blue clothes of course.

He mills about the party making sure everyone is well hydrated and well fed, all while carrying around a beer he doesn't seem to be drinking but rather nursing all night long. There's also a stage he's set up so everyone can tell their favorite Captain America stories, which hands down, Bucky is winning. He's putting in a good effort though.

And they all end on the rooftop with apple pie and the stupidest fireworks ever. Ones that flash in LED lights and spell USA and form Cap's shield. Any ludicrous thing you could think of.

letmetakeaselfie

On some level, he knows Sam must have known he was coming back. In every sense of the word, it feels like homecoming, but it's bittersweet of course. There is a part of him that only wants to see Vision -- to hear Jarvis' voice again and withdraw. There's always that urge within him to shut everyone else out, which was why his friends had been robots and computers. Rhodey had been the first one to break that. It's a tearful hello to his best friend, but he can't dally here when there's so much to do. James has always understood him like no other and he tells Tony to stop fucking around, Sam's waiting to talk to him.

It's ominous in many ways; and it feels like that first time meeting with Fury. His 'evaluation.' Tony can't help but wonder how much Sam even knows about that. He makes his way through the compound slowly, stalling for time because he can't be sure what will happen here. Good or bad, he's fully committed. And maybe it's silly to be scared of a girl who's more scared than all of them. Given what she did to him and his friends... it's probably apt, but Tony still blames himself.

"You don't have any rings I need to kiss, do you?" As always, a joke to break the tension. Or at least saw through it a little. Tony pulls off red-paned glasses, wearing a sharp black suit and a bright red tie Pepper had chosen for him. She said politicians choose red because it's confident, and she always likes him in red anyway. Tony obviously has a thing for the color himself without any of that. He doesn't waste any time, tucking his shades away and offering a handshake for a man he's genuinely happy to see. It's been a long time since Sam and Tony had a one-on-one. They're due.

cheeseburgerfirst

When Toni allows herself to be consumed by her thoughts, it's rarely a good thing. And since date nights had become an established thing, she couldn't get her mind to quit. She was always suspicious of Pepper and those damn diamond commercials. He plays the fool, but maybe he'd really forgotten. She can't be sure, but it had been a long time since she first brought up the "M" word. It makes her heart pound faster just thinking of it now too, but they're not getting any younger. This is important to Pepper, even if he pretends it isn't; and by extension that means it's important for Toni, too. She's sick of walking on eggshells.

She isn't home for the first time in years when Pepper gets home from the conference. He only had the one meeting so she knew she had to work quickly, but when she sets her mind to something it's like a stack of dominoes falling, she'd set something into motion and not even she has the power to stop it now. She leaves him a note on the counter, hastily written. Meet me at the park. -T

Central Park is a big place, but hopefully he remembers their conversation. Horse and buggies... Quakers... She has the horse driver do a figure eight around the entire park so eventually she'll cross paths with Pepper no matter what. She hopes he's here soon, she already can't stand waiting for him. She sits on the very edge of her seat in a sparkly dress that's so very unlike her, so that if the buggy took a sharp turn she'd be dumped to the ground no question. Her dark hair is swept up into a gauzy bonnet, feeling stupid yet elated all at once when she spots a familiar silhouette. "There," she points out the redheaded man to her chauffeur, who's quite happy she paid him for a full day's work already so there could be no interruptions.

The buggy crosses right in front of an unsuspecting Pepper Potts, one slim hand reaching down to help him inside as those giant horse hooves come to an eventual stop. "Hi," she says lamely once he's inside, the car around them lurching ahead the second they're seated.

letmetakeaselfie

Tony hasn't been lost in the lab like this for a long time. Since before Ultron, definitely. It's been a rough year, for all of them. For Pepper by extension. He hates that, but she's off on business again. He can't help thinking like maybe it's best she's away from him for a while. Because of that, he doesn't keep correspondence as well as usual while she's on her trip. He doesn't keep up very well with when she's coming home either, which will prove to be a big mistake.

Since hearing of Thanos and the disruptions in the galaxy, he's quietly been working on a suit that will get him to the action. Since Iron Man Mach II he's been trying to get to space; his own personal Sputnik race, but he's gotten more than a little sidetracked. And lost more than a few friends. He hates that too. It keeps him up more than his own trauma. Why is he still alive, while people more deserving fall? If he had been sucked up by that blackhole on their first mission maybe none of them would have to deal with his bullshit. Maybe that's why he works so hard on fixing things. Something that's never worked out for him in the past. It won't stop him from diving headfirst now, or being completely obsessed with this project.

He hasn't answered a text in days, his phone is buried on his desk and probably dead. He hasn't slept in roughly that amount of time save brief moments lost where he isn't even sure if he's sleeping or just losing time altogether. The last thing he ate was ramen noodles, though when that was is anyone's guess. He could ask FRIDAY, but she's not as willing to indulge him as JARVIS was. Actually, he muted her yesterday and forgot, the voices in his head loud enough that he doesn't notice her absence.

Which is why when Pepper does come home, he's none the wiser, the garish red and gold suit with sharp starburst patterning [mostly] done at last. He's trying it on for the first time, and testing out the anti-gravity function, when the dull echo of Pepper's heels click-clacking on tile filters through the noise. At first, he thinks he's dreamt her up. It wouldn't be the first time this week, or even today, but her brusque pace and unmistakable body language as she comes down the stairs proves her realness. Damn. He hits a surface button on his abdomen to decompress the suit, but in typical fashion something goes wrong and it does it far too fast. Tony whips around like a deflating balloon until eventually crashing in the opposite corner of the lab.

"...Ow?" He's too exhausted to even feel pain, but he assumes that left a bruise. He throws the helmet down and takes in greedy gulps of air, looking up at Pepper's disapproving face with wavy vision.

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It's been a year since... everything. Since their house blew up, since Extremis. Since Toni had officially lost her mind. She likes to think she's doing better, but there's no true litmus for something like that. She goes to her therapist once a week, as promised. It's still a struggle, but it's getting easier. Sometimes Pepper sits in with her and sometimes she's alone. Depending on the week, one or the other could be harder. Sometimes she doesn't talk the whole hour. Sometimes she doesn't let the doctor have a word in edgewise. Sometimes she cries -- that's the hardest for her, showing weakness in front of an authority figure; allowing herself to be helped. Maybe it's not making any difference, but she knows Pepper appreciates the effort.

There are two shiny suits in the lab, as promised, too. One that she's repairing now as the other stands idly by. She's working with the Avengers again, sort of. It's kind of on-again-off-again. And her remodeling efforts had been for naught, of course none of them wanted to stay here, what was she thinking? Except Bruce, when he bothers to come back from whatever third-world shithole he's in at any given time. Sometimes she gets along with Steve, but usually not. Things are tumultuous, but it's her version of normal and she feels like her head is at least above water again.

Pepper is back to work, solving world hunger and light fare like that. He does so much better at the helm than Toni ever did. It makes her proud, but with the tiniest bit of niggling jealousy she can't ever seem to shake. He seems happy -- fulfilled. She hears his oh-so familiar footfalls predictably right on time. Or really, five minutes early. It's their scheduled "reconnection" time, and she feels her heart speed up from his proximity alone, finding a stopping point as soon as she can so she can give him a look over. Handsome as ever, of course. And her in a threadbare Pinkfloyd tanktop and holey jeans, grease smeared across her cheek and safety goggles pinning her hair back that had fallen out of her bun. What a pair they make, as ever. Yin and yang.

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It surprises him how easy it is to flip the script, but it's just automatic. When Pepper is freaking out, it's his turn to be the steady one. It helps that he's beyond exhausted, too. Tony smiles a bit hazily and touches Pepper's cheek, perservering when the other man tries to pull away. "It's okay," he assures. "Not hot. See?" He touches him again and leans in close, staring at his lips before common sense takes over and Tony wraps him in a warm hug instead. What a long fucking week.

"Happy New Year." It's soft, gently turning the other man so he can see the light show he had set up for him, suits self-destructing over their heads. It's kind of strangely beautiful. "Enjoy it while it lasts, there goes our ride." At least until Air Force Two gets here :')