Yes, Virginia, There Really Is An Iron Man: Chapter Eleven
TITLE: Yes, Virginia, There Really Is An Iron Man
AUTHOR: Quicksilvermad
SUMMARY: (Movie-verse) Pepper deals with Tony’s newfound lease on life and ends up making a mountain out of her molehill of emotion where her boss is concerned.
GENRE: Humor/Romance
RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Tony/Pepper
DISCLAIMER: Iron Man etc. belong to Marvel Comics et. al.
AN: Ya'll so twisted my arm with this one. XD
Chapter Eleven:
Jarvis unlocked the door as soon as he “saw” her license plate approaching the front garage. He often did this for her-not because he was programmed to, but simply because the AI genuinely liked her. As much as “Just A Really Very Intelligent System” could, that is. Mr. Stark was an excellent programmer and engineer and Jarvis wouldn’t put it past him to be able to give an AI emotions like that.
After all, there were those moments when he was sarcastic.
Besides all of this, Jarvis noticed that Miss Potts’ hands were full and opened the front door for her. “Welcome back, Miss Potts,” he intoned.
“Hello, Jarvis. Where is he?”
“Mr. Stark is currently drooling on the sofa cushions in the living room.”
Pepper laughed and headed for the kitchen.
She emerged a few minutes later with four peanut butter sandwiches and a glass of milk and walked over to Tony’s snoring side in the flip-flops she’d shoved her feet in.
Pepper wasn’t dressed in her usual professional attire, but then again neither was Tony-who managed to somehow throw the Hugo Boss blazer near the fireplace and his red Oxford shirt in the hollow center of the petrified tree stump-cum-coffee table. His undershirt was bunched up under his arms and he was lying in a “flight” position on his belly-with one arm dangling over the edge of the cushions.
Pepper was wearing a pair of Victoria’s Secret PINK sweatpants with the brand name stitched across the butt and her favorite threadbare grey T-shirt. It was definitely the least dressed her boss had seen her. That is, would see her if he came out of his Demerol-induced coma at the alluring smell of peanut butter.
She waved the plate of sandwiches near his turned head (un-bruised cheek absolutely smashed into the cushion) and hoped for the best.
“Jiffy?” he finally slurred after a couple passes.
Pepper had been sipping at the milk she poured for him and wiped the resulting mustache off her upper lip with her forearm. “Always is,” she answered.
“The room is wobbling.”
He had only opened his eyes a tiny bit.
“That’s because you haven’t eaten, smarty-pants.”
Tony snickered and sat up in a way that could only be described as unintentionally fluid-like. “’Smarty-pants,’” he repeated. “I like that, Miss Potts. I should give you a nickname.”
She shoved a PB minus the J sandwich (how he liked them) in his wide-open mouth and brought one of his hands up to hold it there. “I already have one. Eat.”
Tony ate. Bit by bit he regained some cognitive skills and he watched Pepper steal the crusts he was peeling off (not because he didn’t like the crust-he just knew she liked that part the most).
For some odd reason, Pepper didn’t bother getting another glass of milk and they ended up sharing.
Neither said a word. Until both the plate and glass were empty.
“I like your sweats,” Tony commented with his sauciest wink.
She reached beside her and threw a mini-Snickers at his head. He pouted and dug the tiny wrapped chocolate out of the crack in the cushions where it landed after it bounced off his forehead. “Jarvis, how about starting Blazing Saddles up again?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Pepper popped one of the wrongly named “Fun Size” candy bars in her mouth and relaxed further into the sofa. Beside her, Tony grabbed a throw pillow and tucked it behind his head.
Ten minutes into the movie, Pepper leaned to her right and rested her shoulder against Tony’s ribs. “I love this movie,” she confessed.
He gave her a sly look and tweaked his lips to the left in thought. He was feeling much less “swimmy” now that he had a full stomach and his hand wasn’t bothering him… He wrapped the arm she was already perched under loosely about her shoulders-the brace on his hand interfered with a few things he intended to do and he had to settle for what he had.
“So, Pepper, what do you think is Mel Brooks’ best movie?”
She assumed he’d had this conversation with someone else today by his inflection and tried her best to ignore the fact that he was doing that arm thing again and she could feel his breath in her hair and he smelled like peanut butter…
“Young Frankenstein,” she answered.
“No one ever agrees with me,” Tony pouted.
TBC
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AUTHOR: Quicksilvermad
SUMMARY: (Movie-verse) Pepper deals with Tony’s newfound lease on life and ends up making a mountain out of her molehill of emotion where her boss is concerned.
GENRE: Humor/Romance
RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Tony/Pepper
DISCLAIMER: Iron Man etc. belong to Marvel Comics et. al.
AN: Ya'll so twisted my arm with this one. XD
Chapter Eleven:
Jarvis unlocked the door as soon as he “saw” her license plate approaching the front garage. He often did this for her-not because he was programmed to, but simply because the AI genuinely liked her. As much as “Just A Really Very Intelligent System” could, that is. Mr. Stark was an excellent programmer and engineer and Jarvis wouldn’t put it past him to be able to give an AI emotions like that.
After all, there were those moments when he was sarcastic.
Besides all of this, Jarvis noticed that Miss Potts’ hands were full and opened the front door for her. “Welcome back, Miss Potts,” he intoned.
“Hello, Jarvis. Where is he?”
“Mr. Stark is currently drooling on the sofa cushions in the living room.”
Pepper laughed and headed for the kitchen.
She emerged a few minutes later with four peanut butter sandwiches and a glass of milk and walked over to Tony’s snoring side in the flip-flops she’d shoved her feet in.
Pepper wasn’t dressed in her usual professional attire, but then again neither was Tony-who managed to somehow throw the Hugo Boss blazer near the fireplace and his red Oxford shirt in the hollow center of the petrified tree stump-cum-coffee table. His undershirt was bunched up under his arms and he was lying in a “flight” position on his belly-with one arm dangling over the edge of the cushions.
Pepper was wearing a pair of Victoria’s Secret PINK sweatpants with the brand name stitched across the butt and her favorite threadbare grey T-shirt. It was definitely the least dressed her boss had seen her. That is, would see her if he came out of his Demerol-induced coma at the alluring smell of peanut butter.
She waved the plate of sandwiches near his turned head (un-bruised cheek absolutely smashed into the cushion) and hoped for the best.
“Jiffy?” he finally slurred after a couple passes.
Pepper had been sipping at the milk she poured for him and wiped the resulting mustache off her upper lip with her forearm. “Always is,” she answered.
“The room is wobbling.”
He had only opened his eyes a tiny bit.
“That’s because you haven’t eaten, smarty-pants.”
Tony snickered and sat up in a way that could only be described as unintentionally fluid-like. “’Smarty-pants,’” he repeated. “I like that, Miss Potts. I should give you a nickname.”
She shoved a PB minus the J sandwich (how he liked them) in his wide-open mouth and brought one of his hands up to hold it there. “I already have one. Eat.”
Tony ate. Bit by bit he regained some cognitive skills and he watched Pepper steal the crusts he was peeling off (not because he didn’t like the crust-he just knew she liked that part the most).
For some odd reason, Pepper didn’t bother getting another glass of milk and they ended up sharing.
Neither said a word. Until both the plate and glass were empty.
“I like your sweats,” Tony commented with his sauciest wink.
She reached beside her and threw a mini-Snickers at his head. He pouted and dug the tiny wrapped chocolate out of the crack in the cushions where it landed after it bounced off his forehead. “Jarvis, how about starting Blazing Saddles up again?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Pepper popped one of the wrongly named “Fun Size” candy bars in her mouth and relaxed further into the sofa. Beside her, Tony grabbed a throw pillow and tucked it behind his head.
Ten minutes into the movie, Pepper leaned to her right and rested her shoulder against Tony’s ribs. “I love this movie,” she confessed.
He gave her a sly look and tweaked his lips to the left in thought. He was feeling much less “swimmy” now that he had a full stomach and his hand wasn’t bothering him… He wrapped the arm she was already perched under loosely about her shoulders-the brace on his hand interfered with a few things he intended to do and he had to settle for what he had.
“So, Pepper, what do you think is Mel Brooks’ best movie?”
She assumed he’d had this conversation with someone else today by his inflection and tried her best to ignore the fact that he was doing that arm thing again and she could feel his breath in her hair and he smelled like peanut butter…
“Young Frankenstein,” she answered.
“No one ever agrees with me,” Tony pouted.
TBC
Back | Forward