(no subject)
Contains spoilers. Prompt via all_unwritten and the lovely cotume27.
"I'm still in love with who I wish you were."
~Kate Voegele
Even though Callie and Dana hadn't been able to make it after all (Callie due to an office bug and Dana because her sister needed a last-minute babysitter), Virginia Potts had been determined to still have a decent time at her birthday dinner. Years of grabbing free time whenever she could at Stark Industries had taught her that a good time could still be had alone, after all. A good martini and a bowl of broccolini chicken alfredo were still just as good without someone to gossip to over them.
Normally, on her nights off, Pepper just hoofed it down the street from her apartment to the little pizza place where they knew her on sight - cheese garlic bread, root beer, and a small white pizza with tomatoes and spinach. But birthdays were special, so after taking a moment to admire the present she'd bought on Stark's tab - an impulse buy she was saving for later - she took a drive downtown to the Italian restaurant she'd heard Tony raving about. Mind you, he'd raved a little more about their sangria than their food, and he'd had his hand tangled in some waitress' hair at the time. She'd caught maybe five words before he'd disappeared down the hall, and she'd been left to set up what she called "trash collection" for the morning.
As she sipped at her drink - a glass of that recommended sangria, which really was pretty good - Pepper gazed out the window at the city lights and tried to see above them to the sky. Tony would be in Afghanistan by now, hopefully, giving his Jericho proposal. The sip of wine went a little sour at the back of her throat as she thought of how much prodding she'd had to do to get him out the door. Not to mention that floozy that had waltzed out into the living room in one of his shirts.
Pepper tried not to think about how much she would've paid, once, to be the one walking around in one of Tony Stark's dress shirts and nothing else. But it came flooding into her mind, anyway. How smitten she'd been, when she'd worked in the accounting pool at Stark Industries. How amazed she'd been when he came to congratulate her on finding an error in the budget - something small that would have had major implications, if it had gone through. Tony Stark had come to compliment her, personally. She'd been aghast. She'd also been shocked when he'd turned around and flirted with Sharice in the cubicle across from her, instead of her. Later on, Dana had told her over consolatory macchiatos that it was probably the fact that she dressed like her mother and wore her hair like a librarian. One makeover and a few accounting sheets later, Virginia suddenly found herself hired to Tony Stark's personal roster ... and wondering if it had been the high attention to detail or the lowered state of her neckline.
When she'd learned, a little later, that it had been Obediah Stane who'd hired her, feeling that her being so down-to-earth would help Tony ... she'd honestly been a little offended on her boss' behalf. To think someone as brilliant as Tony Stark would need reining in or grounding was a little preposterous. She was two steps away from drawing hearts on her Post-It pad that said "Virginia Stark", in those days.
Then he'd come home from the presentation in Europe awash in paparazzi noise - and still drunk when he tottered off the jet. He'd made it to the limousine on his own two feet, but just barely, and as Pepper sat in the backseat beside him, she realized it was nearly impossible to fill him in on his messages, since what she could make out between the slurs was hardly professional. The next morning, she sat in front of the TV with her coffee and her notepad and watched Obediah spin a more clean-cut Tony Stark to the media ... the Tony she'd been daydreaming about.
Things only got worse from there, really. As his personal secretary, Pepper had a front seat to the regular performances of the partying, womanizing boozehound that was Tony Stark. And yet, somehow, he still managed to show enough wit and charisma to keep her from being completely disgusted. She knew that if he only had a chance to do something for himself, something -he- truly wanted, something beyond all the superficial social niceties and the playboy image, he might turn out to have a heart after all. Time after time, the opportunities presented themselves, and time after time he'd stagger in the door, either with or without some skanky reporter or hanger-on, and Pepper would clean up the messes and swear 'never again', only to find herself smiling and handing him his messages the next morning.
Which was exactly where she'd found herself that morning. Still holding memos and an empty espresso cup while he tore out of the garage at top speed, leaving tire-marks on the floor for Jarvis to clean up. Nothing had really changed - and Pepper was slowly starting to realize that nothing would.
As her dinner arrived, she ordered a martini to go with it - the sangria wouldn't go as well with the white sauce - and drummed her nails against the stem thoughtfully. So Tony wasn't going to change ... that wasn't a big deal. She'd grown able to live with it, as soon as she'd accepted that he wasn't going to be the Prince Charming the media made him out to be. Virginia Stark was hardly anything she'd be writing on her post-its any time soon.
Every now and then, though, she still tried. The dress hanging in her closet, still in the plastic from the store, was proof enough. Pepper glanced at the ghost of her reflection in the window and wrinkled her nose.
"Who am I kidding," she muttered. "Nothing's gonna change. S'okay, though. I guess I can still hope." She picked up her martini glass and toasted her reflection, quietly.
"To change."
As the glass touched her lips, her cell phone rang.
"Pepper. It's Obie. Listen, there's been ... Christ. I don't know how to tell you."
Her mouth went dry as she set the glass down on the table, watching the liquid try and settle as she felt her own equilibrium start to slip. ".... Is something wrong?"
"It's not on the news yet. If I have my way, it won't be until I hear something more definite, but ... Tony's convoy's been attacked. We just heard from Rhodey. He .... they can't find him, Pepper. Tony's gone."
Pepper felt her stomach bottom out and settle in the toes of her new Zappos. "Ohmygod." She bit her lip, knowing that all the words she couldn't get a hold of were slipping around in her stomach, and they'd spill out all at once if she gave them the chance. The last thing Obediah needed was a classic Pepper Potts meltdown. "I ... let me know if you ..."
"Yeah. Listen, get out of the house, do something. Don't just sit in front of the phone and wait for me to call. I ... I'm sure this will have resolved itself by morning."
"... right."
"You take care, Pepper."
She dropped the phone numbly into her bag, and stared down at her dinner, then glanced over at her reflection again.
Is it too late to take back my toast? .... This is totally not what I meant....
"I'm still in love with who I wish you were."
~Kate Voegele
Even though Callie and Dana hadn't been able to make it after all (Callie due to an office bug and Dana because her sister needed a last-minute babysitter), Virginia Potts had been determined to still have a decent time at her birthday dinner. Years of grabbing free time whenever she could at Stark Industries had taught her that a good time could still be had alone, after all. A good martini and a bowl of broccolini chicken alfredo were still just as good without someone to gossip to over them.
Normally, on her nights off, Pepper just hoofed it down the street from her apartment to the little pizza place where they knew her on sight - cheese garlic bread, root beer, and a small white pizza with tomatoes and spinach. But birthdays were special, so after taking a moment to admire the present she'd bought on Stark's tab - an impulse buy she was saving for later - she took a drive downtown to the Italian restaurant she'd heard Tony raving about. Mind you, he'd raved a little more about their sangria than their food, and he'd had his hand tangled in some waitress' hair at the time. She'd caught maybe five words before he'd disappeared down the hall, and she'd been left to set up what she called "trash collection" for the morning.
As she sipped at her drink - a glass of that recommended sangria, which really was pretty good - Pepper gazed out the window at the city lights and tried to see above them to the sky. Tony would be in Afghanistan by now, hopefully, giving his Jericho proposal. The sip of wine went a little sour at the back of her throat as she thought of how much prodding she'd had to do to get him out the door. Not to mention that floozy that had waltzed out into the living room in one of his shirts.
Pepper tried not to think about how much she would've paid, once, to be the one walking around in one of Tony Stark's dress shirts and nothing else. But it came flooding into her mind, anyway. How smitten she'd been, when she'd worked in the accounting pool at Stark Industries. How amazed she'd been when he came to congratulate her on finding an error in the budget - something small that would have had major implications, if it had gone through. Tony Stark had come to compliment her, personally. She'd been aghast. She'd also been shocked when he'd turned around and flirted with Sharice in the cubicle across from her, instead of her. Later on, Dana had told her over consolatory macchiatos that it was probably the fact that she dressed like her mother and wore her hair like a librarian. One makeover and a few accounting sheets later, Virginia suddenly found herself hired to Tony Stark's personal roster ... and wondering if it had been the high attention to detail or the lowered state of her neckline.
When she'd learned, a little later, that it had been Obediah Stane who'd hired her, feeling that her being so down-to-earth would help Tony ... she'd honestly been a little offended on her boss' behalf. To think someone as brilliant as Tony Stark would need reining in or grounding was a little preposterous. She was two steps away from drawing hearts on her Post-It pad that said "Virginia Stark", in those days.
Then he'd come home from the presentation in Europe awash in paparazzi noise - and still drunk when he tottered off the jet. He'd made it to the limousine on his own two feet, but just barely, and as Pepper sat in the backseat beside him, she realized it was nearly impossible to fill him in on his messages, since what she could make out between the slurs was hardly professional. The next morning, she sat in front of the TV with her coffee and her notepad and watched Obediah spin a more clean-cut Tony Stark to the media ... the Tony she'd been daydreaming about.
Things only got worse from there, really. As his personal secretary, Pepper had a front seat to the regular performances of the partying, womanizing boozehound that was Tony Stark. And yet, somehow, he still managed to show enough wit and charisma to keep her from being completely disgusted. She knew that if he only had a chance to do something for himself, something -he- truly wanted, something beyond all the superficial social niceties and the playboy image, he might turn out to have a heart after all. Time after time, the opportunities presented themselves, and time after time he'd stagger in the door, either with or without some skanky reporter or hanger-on, and Pepper would clean up the messes and swear 'never again', only to find herself smiling and handing him his messages the next morning.
Which was exactly where she'd found herself that morning. Still holding memos and an empty espresso cup while he tore out of the garage at top speed, leaving tire-marks on the floor for Jarvis to clean up. Nothing had really changed - and Pepper was slowly starting to realize that nothing would.
As her dinner arrived, she ordered a martini to go with it - the sangria wouldn't go as well with the white sauce - and drummed her nails against the stem thoughtfully. So Tony wasn't going to change ... that wasn't a big deal. She'd grown able to live with it, as soon as she'd accepted that he wasn't going to be the Prince Charming the media made him out to be. Virginia Stark was hardly anything she'd be writing on her post-its any time soon.
Every now and then, though, she still tried. The dress hanging in her closet, still in the plastic from the store, was proof enough. Pepper glanced at the ghost of her reflection in the window and wrinkled her nose.
"Who am I kidding," she muttered. "Nothing's gonna change. S'okay, though. I guess I can still hope." She picked up her martini glass and toasted her reflection, quietly.
"To change."
As the glass touched her lips, her cell phone rang.
"Pepper. It's Obie. Listen, there's been ... Christ. I don't know how to tell you."
Her mouth went dry as she set the glass down on the table, watching the liquid try and settle as she felt her own equilibrium start to slip. ".... Is something wrong?"
"It's not on the news yet. If I have my way, it won't be until I hear something more definite, but ... Tony's convoy's been attacked. We just heard from Rhodey. He .... they can't find him, Pepper. Tony's gone."
Pepper felt her stomach bottom out and settle in the toes of her new Zappos. "Ohmygod." She bit her lip, knowing that all the words she couldn't get a hold of were slipping around in her stomach, and they'd spill out all at once if she gave them the chance. The last thing Obediah needed was a classic Pepper Potts meltdown. "I ... let me know if you ..."
"Yeah. Listen, get out of the house, do something. Don't just sit in front of the phone and wait for me to call. I ... I'm sure this will have resolved itself by morning."
"... right."
"You take care, Pepper."
She dropped the phone numbly into her bag, and stared down at her dinner, then glanced over at her reflection again.
Is it too late to take back my toast? .... This is totally not what I meant....