Fic - A Slight Shift in Course (Pepper, Johnny/Pepper, Tony/Pepper) pg, 1/1
Title: A Slight Shift in Course
Summary: It starts on a Wednesday. He looks at her and asks, "Has anyone ever told you that you look really good in a pair of heels?' and it is all too familiar, this game. Pepper smiles back anyway.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 827 words. Iron Man/Fantastic 4 crossover. Movieverse. Written a while ago for a crossover meme, but has currently resurfaced and edited due to the mass hysteria IM 2 has caused me to be consumed with. Spoilers for the first movie. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not. Con-crit is both welcome and appreciated.
It starts, really starts on a Wednesday.
Reed and Tony spend the better half of the day arguing about thermodynamics and aerodynamics and why, Tony complains in Pepper’s direction every five minutes, don’t I have my own workshop already because this is really getting old to which she merely grunts or rolls her eyes, her fingers endlessly pressing buttons on the blackberry in her hand.
“Did anyone ever tell you,” he says in her ear and she’s used to the low tones of obnoxious men so her fingers never stop moving and her heart rate doesn’t even alter when he continues, breath awfully close the skin of her neck, “that you look really, really good in a pair of heels?”
Pepper looks up and smirks. This closeness, this type of conversation is not uncommon between them. Tony and her have been in New York exactly two weeks, and from the day she stepped foot off the tarmac and into the Baxter building, Johnny Storm has pushed the boundary between them so far that she can barely see it anymore.
(Coffee, first thing in the morning, tea before bed, first pick at the take out at night and Pepper won’t lie and say that she doesn’t like the attention because she does, boy does she ever, and let’s not kid ourselves, it’s been a while. More than a while.)
“Maybe once or twice, yes.”
“Well, you do.”
Her attention filters down to her blackberry once more. “Thank you.”
“You are more than welcome.”
She can hear the grin in his voice and when she looks up, sure enough it’s there - bright and cheerful and absolutely stunning. He is looking at her like she is sure he looks at every other woman he finds even remotely attractive, and despite herself Pepper can’t help but smile back.
“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Storm?”
“Beauty and brains,” he remarks, trademark grin in place, and then leans in even closer. “I think the way you call me Mr. Storm may be even sexier than the way you wear those manolos, by the way.”
“Should I be worried that you know what manolos look like,” she replies, and almost as an afterthought adds a, “Mr. Storm,” for good measure. She’s a little out of practice, but some things a girl never forgets.
Johnny shrugs effortlessly. “I have a sister.”
“Good excuse.”
“But if you were into that kind of thing, I’d probably give it a try.”
“Oh, really?”
“Just saying, you know, that you really are that hot.”
There’s a moment, a beat and his eyes shift from her own to her lips and Pepper’s do the same and if she were any other woman with any other job and just a tad bit less amount of professionalism she’d have leaned in.
Instead, she merely looks away and says, “Good to know,” before turning back to her blackberry.
She thinks she sees Tony out of the corner of her eye, glancing in their direction, scowl in place and she will not lie about this either - it causes something glorious to pool in the pit of her belly.
+
Eventually, he wears her down (or maybe she is just too tired to begin with, and it is really just giving up, but either way it does not even matter - years have blurred the line between the two and Pepper can’t tell the difference anymore). There are drinks, finally and he smiles at her as she enters the bar, bright and shiny and new and even in the middle of a bitter New York winter, she is warm.
“You look beautiful,” Johnny says, and he’s everything she’s never wanted: young and boyish, all impish grins and too much self confidence.
Pepper smiles back.
He walks her back to her hotel, his shoulder bumping against hers occasionally, fingers light on the small of her back.
When he leans in to kiss her goodnight, she doesn’t let him.
+
Coffee the next morning, early, and he says to her, “I think you’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.”
Pepper laughs, low and throaty. “I think you are full of shit.”
That smile again, then, “Possibly.”
Her phone vibrates in her pocket. It’s Tony. Where are you, Potts?
She doesn’t answer.
+
Face near hers, breath fanning her face and she looks up and away, back against the wall of the elevator. There’s something that starts in her belly and spreads to her fingers and toes.
Pepper sighs something lovely and it fills the space between them.
“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
She has been here before, stuck in that distinct moment before a would-be kiss, weighing her options in her mind, summing them all up and hanging them neatly on the edges of what-ifs and could-bes.
Leaning forward she presses her lips to his, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
There’s a first time for everything.
Summary: It starts on a Wednesday. He looks at her and asks, "Has anyone ever told you that you look really good in a pair of heels?' and it is all too familiar, this game. Pepper smiles back anyway.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 827 words. Iron Man/Fantastic 4 crossover. Movieverse. Written a while ago for a crossover meme, but has currently resurfaced and edited due to the mass hysteria IM 2 has caused me to be consumed with. Spoilers for the first movie. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not. Con-crit is both welcome and appreciated.
It starts, really starts on a Wednesday.
Reed and Tony spend the better half of the day arguing about thermodynamics and aerodynamics and why, Tony complains in Pepper’s direction every five minutes, don’t I have my own workshop already because this is really getting old to which she merely grunts or rolls her eyes, her fingers endlessly pressing buttons on the blackberry in her hand.
“Did anyone ever tell you,” he says in her ear and she’s used to the low tones of obnoxious men so her fingers never stop moving and her heart rate doesn’t even alter when he continues, breath awfully close the skin of her neck, “that you look really, really good in a pair of heels?”
Pepper looks up and smirks. This closeness, this type of conversation is not uncommon between them. Tony and her have been in New York exactly two weeks, and from the day she stepped foot off the tarmac and into the Baxter building, Johnny Storm has pushed the boundary between them so far that she can barely see it anymore.
(Coffee, first thing in the morning, tea before bed, first pick at the take out at night and Pepper won’t lie and say that she doesn’t like the attention because she does, boy does she ever, and let’s not kid ourselves, it’s been a while. More than a while.)
“Maybe once or twice, yes.”
“Well, you do.”
Her attention filters down to her blackberry once more. “Thank you.”
“You are more than welcome.”
She can hear the grin in his voice and when she looks up, sure enough it’s there - bright and cheerful and absolutely stunning. He is looking at her like she is sure he looks at every other woman he finds even remotely attractive, and despite herself Pepper can’t help but smile back.
“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Storm?”
“Beauty and brains,” he remarks, trademark grin in place, and then leans in even closer. “I think the way you call me Mr. Storm may be even sexier than the way you wear those manolos, by the way.”
“Should I be worried that you know what manolos look like,” she replies, and almost as an afterthought adds a, “Mr. Storm,” for good measure. She’s a little out of practice, but some things a girl never forgets.
Johnny shrugs effortlessly. “I have a sister.”
“Good excuse.”
“But if you were into that kind of thing, I’d probably give it a try.”
“Oh, really?”
“Just saying, you know, that you really are that hot.”
There’s a moment, a beat and his eyes shift from her own to her lips and Pepper’s do the same and if she were any other woman with any other job and just a tad bit less amount of professionalism she’d have leaned in.
Instead, she merely looks away and says, “Good to know,” before turning back to her blackberry.
She thinks she sees Tony out of the corner of her eye, glancing in their direction, scowl in place and she will not lie about this either - it causes something glorious to pool in the pit of her belly.
+
Eventually, he wears her down (or maybe she is just too tired to begin with, and it is really just giving up, but either way it does not even matter - years have blurred the line between the two and Pepper can’t tell the difference anymore). There are drinks, finally and he smiles at her as she enters the bar, bright and shiny and new and even in the middle of a bitter New York winter, she is warm.
“You look beautiful,” Johnny says, and he’s everything she’s never wanted: young and boyish, all impish grins and too much self confidence.
Pepper smiles back.
He walks her back to her hotel, his shoulder bumping against hers occasionally, fingers light on the small of her back.
When he leans in to kiss her goodnight, she doesn’t let him.
+
Coffee the next morning, early, and he says to her, “I think you’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.”
Pepper laughs, low and throaty. “I think you are full of shit.”
That smile again, then, “Possibly.”
Her phone vibrates in her pocket. It’s Tony. Where are you, Potts?
She doesn’t answer.
+
Face near hers, breath fanning her face and she looks up and away, back against the wall of the elevator. There’s something that starts in her belly and spreads to her fingers and toes.
Pepper sighs something lovely and it fills the space between them.
“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
She has been here before, stuck in that distinct moment before a would-be kiss, weighing her options in her mind, summing them all up and hanging them neatly on the edges of what-ifs and could-bes.
Leaning forward she presses her lips to his, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
There’s a first time for everything.