Author's Note: This was supposed to be Pepper/Natasha for Femslash February. And then it turned into Pepper-has-a-crush/Pepper+Natasha friendship with makeouts on the horizon for Femslash...March. Yeah, I only feel a little bad about these developments. (It means I can maybe poke more at this pairing later, now that I've gotten a start in it.)

The only other note I'd like to add is that if you are following Life In Reverse and finding yourself perturbed by this flood of fic that is not that - fear not! The next chapter of LiR is in beta, and as I am on spring break, I am taking some time to catch up on the shorter works in progress I've had going. The WIP proper will soon be continued.

Dedicated to Madi (steelplatedhearts), who prompted this and, further, prodded me along to finishing it.

Pepper did not, at first, like Natalie.

She had to admit that it was wholly shallow. She was pretty (gorgeous), she came off as cool and aloof (much as Pepper herself had been accused), and the way she watched Tony just a little too closely and a little too predatorily when he wasn't looking was just slightly worrying.

Not, Pepper had to admit, that she was particularly concerned about someone taking advantage of Tony. Oh no. She might like him – most of the time – but Pepper had long since lost any illusions about the man she worked for.

Few things, however, won Pepper over more quickly than competence and a good work ethic, and Natalie abounded with both.

(She also had to admit to a deep and secret desire to know exactly how Natalie had managed to put Happy, who was almost twice her size, on the floor in two point five seconds, and whether she could learn to duplicate it. There were certain board members with a habit of staring at her breasts that she would dearly love to use that move on.)

Pepper cast a sidelong glance at the woman now, and pursed her lips. "Natalie," she said, raising her voice, a little. Her head lifted, fingers pausing on her keyboard.

"Yes, Ms. Potts?"

A brief glance at her calendar confirmed an open afternoon, and she stood up. "I'm feeling a bit hungry. Would you care to run to lunch with me?"

Natalie blinked, and for just a moment Pepper caught surprise on that placid, almost doll-like face, and realized belatedly that such an invitation might be misconstrued, or potentially inappropriate, but then Natalie reached up and clicked her computer closed, standing in the same movement. "I'd be delighted," she said, and her voice did sound a little warmer.

"There's a deli place around the corner," Pepper said, warming to her idea. "If sandwiches are all right."

"Certainly." Natalie's hand moved toward the phone. "Should I call Happy, or…"

"No," said Pepper, on an impulse. "No, let's just…walk there. The two of us."

Red eyebrows arched just a little upwards, but her hand dropped away from the phone. "Is that wise?" she said, after a moment.

"Probably not," Pepper had to admit, feeling a peculiar wistfulness. Natalie's head tipped slightly to the side, regarded her, and Pepper muffled her sigh. "I'll…"

"I'm sure we can manage," Natalie said, plucking up a small black purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "I could use a walk."

Pepper scribbled a note and left it on her desk for Tony's benefit, and they took the elevator down. Natalie walked in step with her, and if she seemed tense – well, Pepper supposed she hadn't exactly been the most welcoming.

"I've appreciated your work lately," she offered. "I know things have been a bit hectic, and you've kept on top of things."

"Thank you, Miss Potts." Natalie held the door for her. "It's been…an experience." That sounded a little too diplomatic, and Pepper resisted the urge to sigh.

"I hope you haven't been getting too much trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Most of Tony's – Stark's – employees are fine, but I know how it can be for a woman in business…"

Natalie shook her head, looking almost like she wanted to laugh. "I haven't had any serious problems."

Huh. Pepper had to wonder, a little, how Natalie pulled that off.

~.~

It was a pleasant sort of day – or at least not raining, if overcast, skies vaguely foreboding off to the east. Dry for now, though, which was nice, and Natalie kept up easily with the brisk pace Pepper set without thinking.

She looked at Pepper sidelong, through her eyelashes. "I'm curious, though. You've been working at Stark Industries for…how long? It's common knowledge that you practically run the company."

Pepper felt herself flush. "I just keep things in order," she said, firmly. She hoped. "Was there a question there?"

"How did you end up working for Stark to begin with?"

"I'm afraid it's not very exciting," Pepper said. "It was a well-paying job out of grad school. I took it, and I guess I made a good personal assistant. From there…" she trailed off, not quite sure what she could say about Tony, or her and Tony, or any of their peculiar relationship.

Natalie nodded. "Stark's an interesting man, isn't he." Pepper gave her a sharp look, but she didn't sound interested, or curious, just…thoughtful. Especially lately, she thought.

"I suppose so," she said, noncommitally. "Speaking of career trajectory, though, I was going to ask…"

"Miss Potts!" Pepper turned with a jerk to see a man running after them, waving an arm over his head. "Paul Turnpike, with the Sunday Review – could I have a moment?"

"Oh, wonderful," Pepper said, under her breath. Natalie narrowed her eyes.

"Keep walking, or…"

"It's worth a try," Pepper said. "Maybe he'll run out of breath." She turned back around, picking up the pace.

"Frequent problem?" Natalie murmured. Pepper shook her head.

"Not too bad, but every time Tony does something shocking…"

"So a frequent problem, then," Natalie said wryly, and Pepper had to snicker.

"If you please, just a few questions-" Damn, he was catching up. Breaking into a run would be far more undignified than Pepper was willing to do. It was only a block and a half to the deli, if they could get inside…

"I could ask him to leave if you like," Natalie murmured. Pepper shook her head.

"Saying anything to them only seems to encourage further inquiry."

"I'm pretty persuasive."

Pepper shook her head. "Let's just…" She kept her gaze determinedly forward. Paul doggedly kept on.

"Miss Potts," he said a bit more loudly. "There have been some scandalous rumors concerning your relationship with Mr. Stark!" Pepper felt her nose pinch and picked up her pace slightly. He tried to scuttle around in front of her. "If you would just answer a few questions-"

She said nothing. A single word, she knew, was enough. Why hadn't she brought Happy? They never seemed quite so eager to approach her when he was around. Natalie at her side, keeping stride easily, seemed tense, nervous.

"It's fine," she said quietly, voice clipped. "This isn't anything unusual, he'll go away if I don't give him anything."

"I'm familiar with the type," Natalie murmured, a faintly odd note in her voice.

"Miss Potts!" The stubborn man was almost jogging to keep up with them. "Surely you'd like to respond to these claims personally?"

This had to do with Tony's behavior recently. Perfect for just the wrong kind of tabloid, and as if it wasn't enough to be running damage control for his behavior now she couldn't even go out for lunch without-

"Miss, here-" The reporter reached out and grabbed Natalie's arm, probably trying to give her a business card, or catch a picture, or something – Pepper wasn't sure, and didn't find out. Natalie moved fast, whipping around, and by the time Pepper had stopped and turned fully, she had levered his arm up behind his back, twisted at an ugly angle.

"I could probably take you to court for harrassment and win," Natalie said, and that calm voice was just a little eerie. "Or I could just dislocate your arm. I hope you're not left handed."

The man whimpered. Pepper had a sudden, strong feeling of unreality, and took a step forward. "Natalie-"

She looked up and blinked at Pepper, seeming slightly startled to see her. "Oh," she said, after a moment's pause, and released Mr. Turnpike's arm. "Back off," she added, though, in a decidedly dangerous tone of voice that Pepper had had to spend years cultivating. "If I see you approach Ms. Potts again..."

The reporter looked thoroughly terrified, rubbing at his shoulder. Pepper had to admit that she couldn't blame him.

But she didn't speak up to gainsay Natalie's unspoken threat either.

Paul Turnpike, journalist, looked back and forth between them and took a step back. "Sorry, ma'am," he said to Pepper (ma'am now, she noticed, not miss) and then gave Natalie a wary look. "I'll just…"

He scuttled with impressive speed, glancing over his shoulder for a good two blocks.

"I'm sorry," said Natalie, sounding entirely sincere. "That was probably uncalled for. It's been a long week."

Perhaps it was a marker of the kind of week Pepper had been having that she settled for saying, "I guess that's one way to deal with the papparazzi."

That incongruously sweet face cracked into a smile and then a laugh. "You can try next time," she said, and raised her eyebrows in an expression strangely playful. "I can tell you it's very satisfying."

There was the most curious flutter in Pepper's stomach, and she settled for a small smile back and linking her arm with Natalie's. "I'll think about it," she said.

~.~

Pepper was quite sure that this was the worst night of her career, ever, and she was going to do her damnedest to forget the entire thing and move forward and not-

Maybe she should resign. Resign and take a quiet job somewhere quiet with a quiet boss and stay far, far away from Tony fucking Stark.

If she'd hoped swearing would jar her back to some sense of normalcy, it didn't. The house was still wrecked. Rhodey and Tony had still seen fit to – to wage some kind of fist fight using Tony's armor through much of the building, and there was no way she was going to be able to keep this out of the papers, what it would do to the stock…

She felt lightheaded and realized that she was hyperventilating. Natalie was picking her way across the room, her expression one of acute concern.

If otherwise…unflapped.

Where had the woman been working?

"Ms. Potts," she called. "You look like you should sit down."

Pepper tried to even out her breathing and found it harder than she'd expected. "I don't think – I need to make some calls, I-"

"That can wait." Natalie reached her and examined her face critically. "Take a moment, all right? Did you hit your head, any injuries…"

"I'm fine," Pepper said, in a slightly shrill voice. "I'm not – some kind of ninny who needs-"

"No," interrupted Natalie, perfectly calm, "you're a woman who's just had a serious fright. Head down, breathe."

"You're calm." Pepper managed to feel just a bit indignant about that fact.

"Not really," Natalie said, her voice still mild and even as she guided Pepper gently over to a chair and pushed her down into it, urging her head toward her knees. "But helping you is keeping me calm. So let me do it, all right?"

"I'm going to kill him," Pepper mumbled into her knees.

"Not if I don't first," said Natalie, and then sat down next to her, rubbing a hand up and down Pepper's back. Pepper concentrated on taking deep breaths, feeling embarrassingly near to bursting into tears. "Why don't you go home," Natalie said, after a moment's silence. "Relax, take a bath. I can manage this."

"That's not your job," Pepper objected, if feebly.

"Pepper." She subsided, and only realized after a moment that this was the first time Natalie had called her by name. "I'm going to call you a cab. Get some sleep. Everything's under control."

If anyone else had told her that, Pepper thought, she would have yelled at them. Possibly screamed. Nothing was under control, everything was the very opposite of under control. In Natalie's voice, however, curiously enough, she could believe that.

"Tomorrow morning," she said, trying to make her voice firm. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

"I wouldn't expect anything else." Natalie was helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the elevator.

"This has been the worst month of my career," Pepper mumbled.

"Not mine just yet," Natalie said, her voice curiously dry as she pressed the down button. "But it's definitely giving a few of them a run for their money."

~.~

As a rule, Pepper didn't drink.

Watching Tony was a pretty good argument in itself for abstinence, and being the responsible adult was another one.

On the other hand, being the responsible adult in the conditions she'd been dealing with for the last two weeks straight was a pretty good argument for the opposite. And sometimes…you just had to. She had only meant to indulge a little bit.

Now she was definitely tipsy, and perhaps, Pepper suspected, fairly well on her way to drunk.

"I don't know what's going on with him," she said to Natalie, who was sitting across from her with her own glass. "There's something, there's so obviously something, but I don't know what it is – I always know what it is. That's my job. And if he's in some kind of trouble and being – being-"

"Male?" Natalie proposed helpfully.

"Tony about it, I swear I am going to – to-" She couldn't come up with an appropriate threat, and settled for an aggravated huff. Natalie looked like she was trying to decide between concerned and amused, and solved her dilemma by taking a sip from her glass. "And then there's you," Pepper said.

Natalie seemed to tense suddenly. "Me?"

"You," Pepper repeated. "Natalie Rushman from legal, and you turn up just when everything starts going sideways to hell in a handbasket, and it seems like…" she trailed off and looked down at Natalie's feet. Her heels were kicked off, and Pepper found herself faintly fascinated by the way her toes played with the rug.

"Seems like?" Natalie prompted her.

Pepper waved a hand, almost the one holding her glass. "Oh – oh, I don't know. Like you're – too good to be true, or something. Calm and organized and you know – what, kung-fu?"

"I'm hardly," Natalie started to protest, shaking her head with a bit of a smile. Pepper interrupted her without thinking.

"You're not a corporate spy, are you?" She felt a little light-headed, Pepper realized. Probably she'd overindulged. Oh dear. "Because that would really be – too bad."

"No," said Natalie, and she looked like she was trying not to smile again. "I'm not a corporate spy." Pepper frowned.

"You're making fun of me."

"No, Ms. Potts, I am not." Natalie set her glass aside and stood up. "I do think, though, that you've probably had enough."

"I never drink," Pepper informed Natalie. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"And that," Natalie said, with a trace of peculiar sarcasm, "is the truly remarkable thing about you, Pepper Potts – that this is the first time I have seen you get even slightly drunk." She picked up her heels with one hand and padded across the carpet, reached down to pluck Pepper's glass from her hand. She decided not to ask for it back. Natalie was probably right.

"I really am very relieved that you aren't a corporate spy," Pepper said, striving to enunciate. "I like you rather a lot. Now. I didn't, but now – do you know I don't really have work friends? It's all businessmen and – well." Natalie set her glass aside and was helping her to her feet, and her legs felt strangely wobbly. She caught herself on Natalie's shoulder and giggled for no particularly good reason, and then felt horribly foolish for doing so. "I'm sorry. I must seem-"

"If I were you," Natalie said, slipping an arm around Pepper's waist, and that felt rather nice there, really. "I'd have reached this point a while ago. Don't worry about it." Pepper leaned into Natalie's shoulder as the younger woman guided them across the room. Pepper tried to help, but her efforts seemed fairly ineffectual, and Natalie seemed to have them both under control.

She let her mind wander, and found it straying a little off the beaten path. The feeling of Natalie's arm around her waist. The faint smell of whatever soap she used.

Pepper had had precisely one sexual encounter with another woman, a number of years ago, and had found the whole affair disappointing enough that she hadn't tried again to act on occasional fleeting interest.

She was starting to wonder if that was something she ought to reconsider.

Pepper stumbled a bit on the carpet, and half fell against Natalie. She caught herself, swaying, and looked down a little at Natalie's concerned face. "Are you all-"

Pepper swayed forward and planted a somewhat clumsy kiss on those full lips. Natalie looked perfectly startled, and a moment later Pepper jerked away, feeling herself flush.

"Oh – oh, my apologies, I don't know what-" Her face felt hot. Oh, this was mortifying. And-

Natalie's arm, still around her waist, pulled her in again, and kissed Pepper, and this time she actually had a few moments to enjoy the warm, soft feeling of the other woman's lips before she pulled back and gave Pepper a little smile. "I'd be delighted," she murmured, voice a little lower than, it seemed to Pepper, it usually was. "But I don't want to take advantage. Let's get you into a bed – or at least a couch. We can talk tomorrow morning."

"Oh," said Pepper. She really did feel rather warm, all over now. "—I suppose that's all right."

"Mmm. Glad to hear my terms are acceptable." Natalie slipped under Pepper's right arm, her left still around her waist. "With me, Ms. Potts. Let's find a good place for you to sleep it off."

~.~

They didn't get to talk the next morning. Natalie was nowhere to be found in the morning, and in the afternoon she was busy getting ready for the Expo and trying not to fret about the fact that she might be finding herself in the middle of a scandal, and she was never going to touch another drop of alcohol in her life, what had she been thinking-

And then at the Expo things exploded – literally – and Pepper entirely forgot about her potential faux pas and settled to what she did best. Yelling at male businessmen. Or at least, she did right up until Natalie turned up, seemingly out of nowhere, wearing a black cat suit, and proceeded to slam Justin Hammer's face into a table with his arm bent up behind his back.

"Who's behind this?" she demanded, in a voice made of steel.

Pepper had a strange sense of déjà vu.

And a distinct sense that only grew that she had missed something fairly important.

She waited until the threat had been dealt with before turning to Natalie – was that even her name? – and saying, "I would really like an explanation."

"I'm sorry," Natalie said, sounding sincere. "That'll have to wait for you to get clearance. It'll be a few hours." She paused. "I'm also sorry we didn't get to talk this morning."

Pepper opened her mouth, and then closed it. "You told me you weren't a corporate spy," she said finally, almost accusingly, and then felt hopelessly foolish. Of course she would have said so.

"I'm not," Natalie said, with a small smile, just at the very corners of her mouth, and then for the first time since Pepper had known her, she looked the slightest bit uncertain. "Walk with me? I can at least tell you a little."

Pepper crossed her arms. Considered that. Considered Natalie Rushman from legal who was probably no such thing and had maybe sort of become her friend and it turned out had not in fact been telling her the truth. Not that anyone had. Not that Tony had seen fit to mention that he was dying-

"All right," she said, after a long pause. "But you'd better talk fast. I'm not in a great mood."

That small smile twitched toward a little more of one. "I don't think," Natalie murmured, "I can really blame you for that."

~.~

"So," said Pepper. "You were a spy. The whole time."

"Yes," said Natalie – no, not Natalie – without shame. "Given who he is, it seemed prudent to keep an eye on Mr. Stark. A concern that was – as it would seem – justified." Pepper blew out a burst of air. She felt a vague sense of effrontery that her company had been so neatly infiltrated without her knowledge, but at the same time…

"I'm guessing your real name isn't Natalie Rushman, then," she said, after a moment. One eyebrow rose fractionally.

"No," she said, after a moment. "It isn't."

Pepper almost sighed. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling terribly stupid. Of course she was a spy, not corporate espionage spy but – government agency spy. That just…figured. Ever since Tony's I am Iron Man stunt- "Was anything-" she stopped before she could finish that sentence and embarrass herself more than she already had. "Can I ask your real name?" she said, feeling unreasonably peevish.

Just when she'd started to like Natalie Rushman, too. Had been thinking about asking her on a date, or something. Even before she'd – gotten drunk and made an idiot of herself.

Pepper wasn't even sure who she was irritated with – herself, or Tony, or not-Natalie.

Not-Natalie hesitated. Pepper did sigh.

"Classified, I guess," she said, tiredly. Curiously, the corner of not-Natalie's mouth quirked slightly.

"You've got clearance for that, actually," she said. "I suppose I'm just not used to…associating with anyone I've spied on." She shrugged. Pepper stiffened slightly.

"If you'd rather not-"

"No," not-Natalie cut in. "I think I'd rather." She smiled, fractionally. "I really am sorry we didn't get to have that talk. I was looking forward to it."

Pepper blinked a little, felt her face warm. "—we still could," she said, after a moment."If you wanted."

Not-Natalie's expression flickered, and then that faintly tentative smile bloomed a little more. "You look like you could use a drink, Ms. Potts. Would you like to join me?"

"Only if you call me Pepper," Pepper said, after a moment of stupid silence. And then added, "and tell me your real name."

Not-Natalie stepped forward and held out a hand. Her grip, when Pepper took it, was firm and sure, her gaze level. "Natasha Romanov," she said. "It's a pleasure to…officially meet you."

"And you," Pepper said, and paused a moment. "One other thing."

Not-Natalie – Natasha – raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

Pepper lifted her chin a little. "I'm going to request that you teach me that trick with your legs," she said. "Since you aren't going to be around to chase off paparazzi anymore."

Natasha blinked, and then she laughed, that startlingly clear sound that had surprised Pepper the first time she'd heard it. "It would be my genuine delight," she said, eyes bright, "to do just that."