Theme #98 Pretend
Title: Strange Relationship
Chapter Title: The So Called Real World
Theme: 98 Pretend
Rating: pg-13 (for now)
Length: 1,259
Disclaimer: I own nothing, really.
Summary: Pepper tries to pretend that the events of that weekend didn’t happen, and it pisses Tony off.
AN: I decided to let Insatiable stand as is because I couldn’t figure out how to take it from where it was to where I wanted to go and I had its sequel running amok inside my head so here we go. I might go back and gap it all together at some point, but for now it’s complete, but this sort of picks up.
It had been six days, nine hours and forty-two minutes since they had returned from the Vineyard and nothing had happened. Not one thing save for the usual and it was driving Tony up the proverbial wall. She came down into the workshop, they exchanged the usual banter, he signed his name and that was that. She kept acting like it never happened, or she was pretending rather because her eyes had a funny way of telling him things she wouldn’t allow her lips to say.
For example, they would linger on him a little more when he wore tank tops and wifebeaters, so he had taken to wearing them as much as possible. And then one day she had walked in as he was stripping a once white wifebeater, now sopping in grease from his upper body and she had stuttered, forgotten where exactly he was supposed to sign and left in a rush. He hadn’t worn a shirt since unless he absolutely had to.
“Do I need to call someone in to do some laundry?”
He had missed the clicks of her heels, how had he… oh yeah, music, “You turned off my music.” He completely ignored her question and went back to work on the suit, his bare chest stained with grease, dirt and grime with lines through it all thanks to sweat.
“I always turn off your so called music.” She was trying her damnest not to look at his chest and it was slowly becoming a losing battle, “And I came to inform you that you missed the board meeting, again.”
“My so called music is better than that whiney shit you probably listen to.” He turned to face her, rubbing an already soiled towel between his hands as he did so, “And so I missed a board meeting. Don’t I always miss them?” If she was going to be so indifferent, so was he, “Jarvis. Music on.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Jarvis. Music off.” The shop echoed in silence again and she folded her arms, glaring down at him, “No, you don’t. This is the first time since… that you’ve missed a board meeting twice in a row.”
“I’ve been busy.” He answered without looking at her, tinkering half mindedly hoping she’d take the hint, “Is there anything else or do you just plan to stand in the middle of my garage all day?”
“Put on a damned shirt.” She turned and made her way towards the stairs, “And take a shower.” The music almost bounced her back up the stairs it was so loud.
The music hid the clang of metal as it was thrown across the room and against the wall, “Damnit.” He sat there for a moment, he teetered about and argued with himself about going upstairs and point blank asking her what the hell her problem was. It took him about five seconds to climb the stairs, two at a time, “I didn’t excuse you.”
“I’m sorry?” She turned, coming face to face with him, hands coming to rest at the curve of her hips.
“I said, I didn’t excuse you.” Arms folded across his chest, “And please don’t make me repeat myself, you know I hate it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Stark, would you like me to go back downstairs so you can then properly send me on my way?”
Her sarcasm was biting, it actually stung, but he took a deep breath and gathered his reserves, “That’s it. I’ve had it.” And he kisses her, pulls her against him, taking satisfaction in the fact her spotless, perfect dress shirt was now at the mercy of her dry cleaners.
She pulls away quickly, “What in the hell was that?” She tries to sound tough, authoritative, but instead comes off breathless and airy.
“That was a kiss. Me kissing you, something you should recognize or do I need to further remind you?” He shifts a little until he’s pressing her back against a wall, “Because if you need some reminding I have no problem in refreshing your memory.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” She tries to wrestle out of his arms even if she knows it’s pointless, Tony is stronger end of story.
“Someone alert the press, she remembers.” He grins, it’s dark and suggestive, “Now care to explain this whole indifference acting job of yours?”
Pepper glances down at her shirt and frowns as she looks back up to him, “You’re going to be paying my dry cleaning bill.”
“That’s fine. Now stop trying to side step the question.” He eyes up her neck, he’s always had a thing for her neck, the graceful length of it… the way her pulse flutters when he nips at it.
“There’s nothing to explain.” She notes he’s not looking at her, exactly, “Eyes up here Stark.”
He lets her go and steps back, her words bothering him almost worse than her indifference, “Yes there is, because last I checked the Vineyard and everything before and during was not a dream. I did buy the place for quite a nice penny or two.”
“No it wasn’t.” She straights her stained shirt, trying to remember if she had a spare in her office or not, she hoped she did, “But we’re back in the real world now, so let it go.” She moved, placed more distance between them and a shelf.
“Give me one good reason why I should.” His arms fold, dark eyes staring hard into that sea of blue steel.
She stands there, silent. He’s got her and they both know it, especially as that look, that expression of triumph slithers across his face and she looks away. She wonders if she can just simply turn and walk to her office, shut the door and lock it. And then two words come to mind, two words that are a good reason, “I’ll quit.”
He hates those two words, she weilds them like some damned sword and shield that protects her. He arms fall and this time he lets her have the moment, “One of these days Pepper those two words won’t save either one of us.” He stalks towards her, impressed that she holds her ground that she defiantly sticks her chin out, “ But go ahead, pretend it all never happened. Have your way, but when you dream at night, I won’t say I told you so.”
She closes her hands into fists, not to strike him no, that’s the furtherest thing from her mind, but to keep herself from getting in any deeper than she already is, “Will that be all Mr. Stark?”
He moves a little closer, impressed that she still doesn’t take a step back or moves in any way except to breathe, even as his lips hover just above hers, “That will be all, Miss Potts.” And when she doesn’t stiffen or pull away as his lips brush hers, he knows it won’t take long, that she can’t pretend forever, “For now.”
The last two words vibrate against her lips and she presses her nails into her palm, anything to keep herself from doing anything she might regret… or was she doing that already? Would this façade of hers help her sanity or in the end would it hinder it? She stands there and watches him walk away, he never looks back once as he descends the stairs and only when she can no longer see him does she relax, “Damnit.” She looks down at her palms, the little half moons left by her nails slowly filling with blood.