Huh.
Title: Family Portrait
Author: amazingly_me
Theme: Identity (written for pepperony100)
Rating: PG (slight language)
Summary: Tony decides what their nonexistent kids would look like. Pepper tries to get actual work done. Until she doesn't.
Length: 455 words.
Notes: Because when you ask for prompts, it's absolutely the norm to be suddenly struck by totally different inspiration. Right? Right.
"Our kids," Tony says, idly twirling a pen between his fingers, "would be hot."
Pepper, who is busily scrolling through Tony's inbox, barely even pauses. "You really need to write back to Reed Richards, Tony. He's --"
"He's a genius for chrissakes. I'm sure he can think of something to do while I procrastinate. Cure cancer, go to the moon, whatever. We are two phenomenally good looking people Ms. Potts. Ergo? Phenomenally good looking kids. Your hair, definitely."
"I -- what?" Pepper says. She actually looks up this time, her hand still on the mouse.
"Our kids would have to have your hair. It is entirely possible that one of the seven deadly sins is the act of not passing on that hair. Your hair, and my...I don't know. Eyes? Engineering skills? Roguish yet charming grin?"
"Ability to completely ignore what actually needs to be done?" Pepper suggests, combing two fingers absently through her hair.
"I thought that went without saying," Tony says. "Also? My priorities, because I am not having some four-year-old running around making spreadsheets and scheduling meetings. Not that I don't rely on you doing that to a truly terrifying degree, but it's a little scary Pep."
"Tony," Pepper says, a smile twisting at the corner of her mouth, "no child of mine is going to think that hitting on the reporter from Vanity Fair is more important then meeting with the six different government agencies that are clamoring for her expertise."
"Why does it get to be a girl?" Tony asks, ignoring the schedule Pepper is holding under his nose without even trying.
"If I'm going to be dragged into your delusions," Pepper says, "it gets to be a girl."
"Hey! I insist that you not call our future child 'it.'"
"Tony," Pepper says, and now she is smiling, even if she can feel her face going red (Tony's complexion, she thinks, and then blushes again), "you just called it 'it' two sentences ago."
"Her," Tony says, and he sounds strangely serious, "call her 'her,' fine. No 'it.'"
Pepper rolls her eyes skyward, but she also feels her stomach flip a little. Just a half-flip, really. Really.
"I'm telling Reed Richards that you'll call him this afternoon at four," Pepper says. Tony sighs.
"Are you sure I don't need to, like, teach this kid to read or something?"
"I'm fairly certain that's not on the agenda Tony," Pepper says. "Though I'm sure she'd be very grateful you thought of her."
"What are we going to name her?"
"Take the schedule Tony," Pepper says firmly.
She does not spend the day imagining a girl with her hair and Tony's mouth running around making her life endearingly difficult.
(It's a long, long day.)
Notes:
o1. Hee! Tony/Pepper progeny.
That's...no, that's all I have to say.
Author: amazingly_me
Theme: Identity (written for pepperony100)
Rating: PG (slight language)
Summary: Tony decides what their nonexistent kids would look like. Pepper tries to get actual work done. Until she doesn't.
Length: 455 words.
Notes: Because when you ask for prompts, it's absolutely the norm to be suddenly struck by totally different inspiration. Right? Right.
"Our kids," Tony says, idly twirling a pen between his fingers, "would be hot."
Pepper, who is busily scrolling through Tony's inbox, barely even pauses. "You really need to write back to Reed Richards, Tony. He's --"
"He's a genius for chrissakes. I'm sure he can think of something to do while I procrastinate. Cure cancer, go to the moon, whatever. We are two phenomenally good looking people Ms. Potts. Ergo? Phenomenally good looking kids. Your hair, definitely."
"I -- what?" Pepper says. She actually looks up this time, her hand still on the mouse.
"Our kids would have to have your hair. It is entirely possible that one of the seven deadly sins is the act of not passing on that hair. Your hair, and my...I don't know. Eyes? Engineering skills? Roguish yet charming grin?"
"Ability to completely ignore what actually needs to be done?" Pepper suggests, combing two fingers absently through her hair.
"I thought that went without saying," Tony says. "Also? My priorities, because I am not having some four-year-old running around making spreadsheets and scheduling meetings. Not that I don't rely on you doing that to a truly terrifying degree, but it's a little scary Pep."
"Tony," Pepper says, a smile twisting at the corner of her mouth, "no child of mine is going to think that hitting on the reporter from Vanity Fair is more important then meeting with the six different government agencies that are clamoring for her expertise."
"Why does it get to be a girl?" Tony asks, ignoring the schedule Pepper is holding under his nose without even trying.
"If I'm going to be dragged into your delusions," Pepper says, "it gets to be a girl."
"Hey! I insist that you not call our future child 'it.'"
"Tony," Pepper says, and now she is smiling, even if she can feel her face going red (Tony's complexion, she thinks, and then blushes again), "you just called it 'it' two sentences ago."
"Her," Tony says, and he sounds strangely serious, "call her 'her,' fine. No 'it.'"
Pepper rolls her eyes skyward, but she also feels her stomach flip a little. Just a half-flip, really. Really.
"I'm telling Reed Richards that you'll call him this afternoon at four," Pepper says. Tony sighs.
"Are you sure I don't need to, like, teach this kid to read or something?"
"I'm fairly certain that's not on the agenda Tony," Pepper says. "Though I'm sure she'd be very grateful you thought of her."
"What are we going to name her?"
"Take the schedule Tony," Pepper says firmly.
She does not spend the day imagining a girl with her hair and Tony's mouth running around making her life endearingly difficult.
(It's a long, long day.)
Notes:
o1. Hee! Tony/Pepper progeny.
That's...no, that's all I have to say.