First meetings | Guardian!verse |Closed

[stillnotlegolas]

It has been a while since Clint was assigned a mission to be someone’s bodyguard. Years, even, if he thinks about it long enough. The last one had been a two week stint in Istanbul where he shepherded some of SHIELD’s heavy hitters through what was shaping up to be civil unrest. They’d all made it out alive but complained about his mouth and his

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[stillnotlegolas]

"I understand, Ms. Potts," he says, because he does understand. He really does, and he'd give anything to make it so that she didn't have to have 24/7 surveillance, because she seems like a nice woman, she really does, but it's because she seems like a genuinely nice human being with a good heart that he really doesn't want her to end up just another statistic in the morning's paper.

"I really do," he says with a sigh, and watches her in the reflection of the elevator doors, "but this man isn't going to stop until he either hurts you or we catch him." Statistically it's a man, but they haven't been completely able to eliminate the possibility it's a woman--though Clint would put money on him being a guy. "And it's my job to keep you safe, and make sure we catch him before he manages to do any real harm."

He meets her eyes across the space and gives her his own tight smile, struck, a bit, by just how gorgeous she is. It's a surprising thing, just because she's been so intent on professionalism and efficiency that he'd never really taken time to just look at her, and for the moment they're standing there in the elevator just sharing space and quiet he's suddenly aware of how impossibly attractive she is.

There's a moment where he realizes he's likely staring and he wrenches his eyes away from her, because he's a professional and no stranger to beautiful women--having Nat as a partner tends to desensitize someone to inhuman beauty--and the fact that she's frankly one of the prettiest women he's ever met doesn't change his mission.

"Ah--I'll need a copy of your schedule? Any daily routines you have outside of work."

[ppotts]

"Do you know how many death threats To-- mister Stark receives in a day?" Pepper asks evenly, her eyes locked on the display above the door. He doesn't really get it. Unfortunately. If this felt at all justified then she wouldn't have such a problem with it. "Twenty. Some of them are very disconcerting. Do you know how many serious attempts have been made on his life? Two." Of course she's not counting Obadiah here or any of the Iron Man related bad guys. Those are a whole separate faction. For one they don't tend to send him letters stating their intent ahead of time.

"I'd like to think that I'm more likable than he is. Whoever is sending these threats is obviously a very sick individual, but I doubt he's going to take it any further." But, while SHIELD reassures themselves of this fact, her life is going to be hopelessly disrupted for no good reason and that's the most frustrating thing of all.

But, her frustration with needing a bodyguard in the first place has distracted her from the fact that he's really not bad looking. And that's an understatement. He's no Tony Stark, of course, but then again no one is (not even Tony, at the moment). But, he's handsome. Even more so when he smiles. A fact that is driven home to her the moment their eyes meet and her breath sort of just... stops.

It's not until he looks away from her and the elevator doors open that she manages to take another breath and by then her lungs are sort of burning with the lack of air. Except in a nice way and that doesn't even make any sense, Pepper. Stop it.

Her heels click sharply against the poured cement floor as she exits the lift and she digs around in her purse for her car keys. "Other than work, I don't do much. Thursdays and Sundays a personal trainer comes around to the office gym for about two hours. There's usually a benefit or an event every month or two weeks that I need to attend." It used to be Tony who had to attend them, but now it's her. Which, in a way, is easier. Because getting dressed up and going to a party is far easier than badgering Tony into abandoning his workshop, showering, getting dressed, going to the party and staying there for more than ten minutes.

[stillnotlegolas]

His boots make an interesting counter-point to the noise of her heels, and he follows her toward her car, just a hair back again and to her right. He doesn't particularly like parking garages either--too large, too empty and too easy to get into, even if you lack security clearance, but again, that's something they've had to sacrifice to keep from interrupting Ms. Pott's life as much as possible. Phil had assured him they were doing a daily sweep and had replaced the normal security guard with one of their own for a while, so he was going to have to be content in that.

"Tony Stark is the sort of person to illicit death threats without much follow through. He's a public figure who says a number of inflammatory comments and lives a--lifestyle--that encourages people to express their displeasure. Which is all they're doing when they send them to him," He realizes it's likely futile to explain, but he does want her to understand they're not just doing this to jump at shadows. This is their job and they're doing it because there's a credible threat here.

"You, however, are much less--incendiary," Quite the opposite, actually. While he may not understand corporate politics and the running of a company this size, he has spent the last week watching footage of her, of her press briefings and interactions with the public and it seems everything Pepper Potts does she does with a grace and careful hand that completely overshadows the fact that--on paper--she's unqualified for the job she has. "So when someone takes it this far? There's a credible threat to your person."

In relation to her schedule, he nods and makes a mental note of when she'll be spending time in the gym so he can vet her trainer and make sure to have security look over the facility before she uses it. Look over it and clear out before she gets there. He doubts she would appreciate the presence of security guards around while she tries to work out. These parties will be the hardest part of his job, he imagines, because he can't vet every executive in this town, or the public, and very few people are willing to let SHIELD into their private residences to do sweeps before a charity event. He figures he better invest in a suit. Or a tux. Whatever it is people wear at those sorts of things because he doubts SHIELD-issued field gear is going to be appropriate.

They reach her car, a pretty little BMW he'd never drive himself but might appreciate if he saw it on the road and he quickens his steps to match hers and then move a bit in front of her.

"I'm going to need to check your car. I promise it won't take long."

[ppotts]

Parking garages have never been one of Pepper's favorite places either. Even without any sort of death threat hanging over her head, there's always the possibility of carjackers or rapists lurking around. Of course the Stark Industries parking garage is far more secure than the average one, but that doesn't mean the vast open space doesn't get to her a little. Especially late in the evening when there's only a handful of cars left. Besides, the stale smell of gasoline, fumes and damp concrete always gives her a headache. The odd rhythm of their joint steps echoes through the empty space, alerting any lurking threats to their presence.

Pepper is actually fairly used to the slight, uncomfortable tickle right between her shoulder blades in places such as these -- as well as the impulse to pull her house keys out and fit one between her middle and index finger -- and these days she barely even notices it. Except now the chill that follows the impact of Clint's words brings them both to the forefront of her mind. No one has actually explained it to her like that before. It makes sense though and that's... rather scary. "I-- hadn't thought of it like that." And there's a hint of an apology in her voice.

Actually, most charity functions come with their own security measures. They might not be up to SHIELD standards but they should be enough of a deterrent to a casual stalker. Unless said casual stalker has the funds to pay for a ticket of course. And most of the bodyguards in attendance -- and there are quite a few when politicians and celebrities rub elbows with the wealthy socialites -- just wear a dark suit so there's no need to dress up.

Pepper stops and holds out the keys to Clint without protest. She might not like the fact that Phil has bullied her into getting a bodyguard, but she's not going to make his job harder on him. She's not Tony. So, she's going to go ahead and let him enter rooms before her so that he can clear them and she'll never try to sneak out on him in the middle of the night. She'll even let him listen in to her phone calls. If she had any sort of a personal life, she might feel differently, but as she doesn't she's going to be the perfect client despite her reluctance.

"Take the time you need," she offers. He doesn't need to feel like he's an inconvenience when all he wants is to do his job and keep her safe. In the chill of the garage, she wraps her arms around herself to keep warm and watches him methodically go over her car.