(no subject)
Title: Decorum (2/?)
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Iron Man
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing: Pepper/Coulson
Spoilers: Film
Warnings: None
Summary: The dinner date.
Notes: From Pepper's POV. 740ish words.
He was cooking for her.
She really liked the idea, no one had cooked for her since her mother died. She dressed as if she were going out to a top restaurant though, black dress and killer shoes, low cut bust line but lower heels than usual, because Phil Coulson was a little shorter than her, and while he didn’t seem intimidated by her height in any way, she didn’t want it to become a problem between them either.
She waited for him to answer, smiling when he opened the door in a lilac shirt and holding a wooden spoon.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
"What are you making?" she asked, nodding towards the spoon in his hand.
"Oh, risotto, is that okay?" he asked, holding the door open to let her into his apartment.
"Sounds great."
"Come on in," he said. "It's almost ready."
He led her into his kitchen, the smells hitting her and making her hungry.
"Nice place," she said, trying to dampen down the nerves. She hadn't been on a date in so long, hadn't had the time, or the inclination, or the unspoken permission from Tony. That last reason really annoyed her, and that's why she hadn't told him about her date with Coulson.
"Thanks."
"SHIELD pay well?"
"High enough up is does," he said, "they make you work for it though."
"I can imagine."
"The problem with some high salary jobs is finding the time to spend the money. I'm sure Stark keeps you too busy to use yours too."
"I spend it on shoes," she said with a grin. "Stupidly expensive shoes."
He looked away from the meal he was preparing them and down to her feet, a little smile curving his lips.
"I had noticed."
She blushed and moved across the kitchen to stand next to him, looking at their dinner.
"It's 99% ready."
"99%?" she queried, with a quirk of her eyebrow.
"Try it."
He held out the spoon with a little of the rice on it, blowing gently on it before offering it to Pepper. She leaned forward, taking the food.
"It's done Phil," she told him with a grin.
"100%?"
"100%," she said, trying not to laugh, his face was so serious, as if the extra percent was the most important thing in the world.
"I may carry a gun but really I'm a number cruncher at heart Miss Potts."
"I'm starting to see that."
"Let's eat," he said with a smile.
zzzzz
He was neither action man nor number cruncher Pepper realised as they talked over dinner, but cooked really well. He was a little anal maybe, but then so was she, and it suited her just fine. He talked about his job, within the bounds of classified information, and she did the same, within the bounds of discretion for Tony. She liked his own discretion, and decorum, though she could tell he was holding back. She was curious about him, about what was behind his professional façade but suspected it would take a little time to find out.
She wouldn't tonight though.
He drove her home after dinner, having drunk a single glass of wine. She wanted to ask if that was his habit or if it was just so he could drive her home. She kept the thought to herself however, unsure which answer she would prefer. They talked some more in the car, about music, as he told her to choose something to listen to on the way and she fiddled with the settings on the radio. She liked his quiet manner, his gentlemanly conduct, the way he laughed when she told as joke; like he never laughed normally and was going to make the most of it.
He walked her to the door and she knew he would never ask to come in, and, while she wanted to ask, she knew she shouldn't. All she did was kiss him on the cheek and say goodnight before slipping inside.
She left him a message the next day to thank him again for dinner, and that she hoped they could go out again, because she really did. She wanted him to ask her out, to see if he wanted to go out with her. It was a test, but she had to test it, him, this. It had been too long since she'd dated, way too long, and had a little bit of hope for Phil Coulson.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Iron Man
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing: Pepper/Coulson
Spoilers: Film
Warnings: None
Summary: The dinner date.
Notes: From Pepper's POV. 740ish words.
He was cooking for her.
She really liked the idea, no one had cooked for her since her mother died. She dressed as if she were going out to a top restaurant though, black dress and killer shoes, low cut bust line but lower heels than usual, because Phil Coulson was a little shorter than her, and while he didn’t seem intimidated by her height in any way, she didn’t want it to become a problem between them either.
She waited for him to answer, smiling when he opened the door in a lilac shirt and holding a wooden spoon.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
"What are you making?" she asked, nodding towards the spoon in his hand.
"Oh, risotto, is that okay?" he asked, holding the door open to let her into his apartment.
"Sounds great."
"Come on in," he said. "It's almost ready."
He led her into his kitchen, the smells hitting her and making her hungry.
"Nice place," she said, trying to dampen down the nerves. She hadn't been on a date in so long, hadn't had the time, or the inclination, or the unspoken permission from Tony. That last reason really annoyed her, and that's why she hadn't told him about her date with Coulson.
"Thanks."
"SHIELD pay well?"
"High enough up is does," he said, "they make you work for it though."
"I can imagine."
"The problem with some high salary jobs is finding the time to spend the money. I'm sure Stark keeps you too busy to use yours too."
"I spend it on shoes," she said with a grin. "Stupidly expensive shoes."
He looked away from the meal he was preparing them and down to her feet, a little smile curving his lips.
"I had noticed."
She blushed and moved across the kitchen to stand next to him, looking at their dinner.
"It's 99% ready."
"99%?" she queried, with a quirk of her eyebrow.
"Try it."
He held out the spoon with a little of the rice on it, blowing gently on it before offering it to Pepper. She leaned forward, taking the food.
"It's done Phil," she told him with a grin.
"100%?"
"100%," she said, trying not to laugh, his face was so serious, as if the extra percent was the most important thing in the world.
"I may carry a gun but really I'm a number cruncher at heart Miss Potts."
"I'm starting to see that."
"Let's eat," he said with a smile.
zzzzz
He was neither action man nor number cruncher Pepper realised as they talked over dinner, but cooked really well. He was a little anal maybe, but then so was she, and it suited her just fine. He talked about his job, within the bounds of classified information, and she did the same, within the bounds of discretion for Tony. She liked his own discretion, and decorum, though she could tell he was holding back. She was curious about him, about what was behind his professional façade but suspected it would take a little time to find out.
She wouldn't tonight though.
He drove her home after dinner, having drunk a single glass of wine. She wanted to ask if that was his habit or if it was just so he could drive her home. She kept the thought to herself however, unsure which answer she would prefer. They talked some more in the car, about music, as he told her to choose something to listen to on the way and she fiddled with the settings on the radio. She liked his quiet manner, his gentlemanly conduct, the way he laughed when she told as joke; like he never laughed normally and was going to make the most of it.
He walked her to the door and she knew he would never ask to come in, and, while she wanted to ask, she knew she shouldn't. All she did was kiss him on the cheek and say goodnight before slipping inside.
She left him a message the next day to thank him again for dinner, and that she hoped they could go out again, because she really did. She wanted him to ask her out, to see if he wanted to go out with her. It was a test, but she had to test it, him, this. It had been too long since she'd dated, way too long, and had a little bit of hope for Phil Coulson.