First Iron Man fic.

Summary: "Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing." Six things that Pepper Potts walked in on that she'll never forget, whether she wants to or not.

Number One: March 11, 2006

" - so I have the plans over here, and Obadiah just called asking about the other Board meeting that you convenientely forgot to tell him you missed, which means that not only do we have to get the information from another member, Obadiah's going to come down here and - what are you doing?"

Tony looks over his shoulder at Pepper, grinning as he attaches the last cable to his harness. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Tony - I mean, Mr. Stark - "

"Tony's fine, sweetheart."

Pepper tilts her head at the pet name but decides not to comment. "I think it'd be good for all of us if you got off that ledge." He's fastened some sort of metal shelf above the tunnel that leads into the workshop, with pulleys and complicated tracks attached to the ceiling.

"Why? I built it specifically for this purpose."

"He melted down one of my defunct computers for the metal," JARVIS comments dryly. "But I can assure you, Ms. Potts, that it's perfectly safe."

"All right, Dummy, start the camera. Don't focus on the ledge, you're supposed to be tracking my performance. No, focus on me. Me. Good God."

"I don't think this is a good idea, sir."

"Tony," he reiterates firmly. "And trust me. It'll be all good. You do trust me, right?"

She wisely stays silent.

"In three, two, one - " He jumps off the ledge and flips in midair, soaring for one brilliant moment before gravity kicks in and he starts to tumble. There's an almighty crash and papers go flying, Dummy recoiling with a sharp twist as one of the desks overturn. Pepper gasps and the files in her arms spill as she rushes to the wreckage.

"Tony? Oh my God, Tony, please don't be dead, oh my God - "

The daredevil in question groans and stays put. "I think I broke something."

Relief surges through Pepper's body and she sags, falling to her knees beside him. "What could have possibly inticed you to perform acrobatics in midair in the middle of your workshop?" She feels like hitting him, but he's hurt and that would be unprofessional.

"Sheer stupidity," JARVIS supplies.

"Shut up, you useless computer," Tony mutters, tone slightly betrayed. "You said it was safe."

"If you'll recall, sir, I said that the ledge was safe. I gave no warning pertaining the activity."

Pepper pushes her hair out of her eyes, exasperated. "You just couldn't bother with the forms I needed you to fill out four hours ago, could you?"

Number Two: July 26, 2006

"Mr. Stark?" Silence. "Mr. Stark?" Silence. "Tony." Silence.

Pepper huffed. "JARVIS, where is he?"

"In the kitchen, Ms. Potts."

The kitchen? Why? She could fairly say that it was the least-used room in the whole house. Tony was rarely home to eat, and when he was he either ordered out or forgot about meals altogether. It wasn't in the way of other rooms either, so no one even passed through it. Frowning, she headed towards it.

"Mr. Stark?" Peeking in, she saw him sitting at one of the bar stools that stood next to the island counter. "What... what's going on?"

"I'm drunk." He fingers the bottle of vodka in his hand. "On cheap stuff, too."

"Well, for a drunk man, you sound pretty lucid."

"I gave a speech in Bern about integrated circuits while dead-drunk, remember?"

"Ah, yes." She smiles despite herself. "One of your many unforgettable moments."

He takes another long swig from the bottle. She's tempted to pull it out of his hand, but she knows better than to interrupt Tony Stark when he's in a mood like this.

"I hated my father," he says abruptly. "Did you know that?"

She doesn't reply but instead comes around to sit next to him. She knows its a rhetorical question, knows that he's about to talk and talk and talk because that's what he does, and the alcohol isn't really helping that habit.

"I hated him because he was cold, calculating, and always too busy for family. We almost never got to see him, and when we did, there was no affection or anything. I hated him a lot for that. But at the same time, I loved him. Not just because he was my dad. I loved him because he was my role model - a brilliant scientist, engineer, physicist, whatever. It was weird, balancing all that. You know what I mean?"

"No," she says carefully, measuring her words. He gives her a quick look before downing more vodka. "But I can imagine the feeling."

"I'm so out of it, you don't understand." His head lolls forward as he abruptly changes the topic and she places a restraining hand on his shoulder, tipping him backwards.

"I think I get the general picture." She checks the bottle - almost gone. How was he talking so lucidly? He was amazing at being drunk, too, even if he didn't have a filter.

"You're hot, Pepper. I mean really, really hot. Did I ever tell you that?" He grins at her and she flushes despite herself. Yeah, no filter.

"You're either going to forget or regret this tomorrow," she mutters. "Come on, let's get you into bed. You're going to have to wait it out."

He stands up and accepts her help. "Eh, just get me some black coffee and I'll be fine."

"Despite popular belief, Mr. Stark, nothing can speed up the road to sobriety. You simply have to wait."

He didn't seem to catch any of this except her middle two words. "Tony," he emphasized once again, leaning on her slightly as they head out of the kitchen. "I call you by your first name."

"Yes, but I am your employee," she started to explain.

"Yeah, and as your boss, I say you call me Tony. Seriously. "Mr. Stark" is so annoying."

"How ever do you survive in the business world?" she inquired dryly, heading up the stairs.

"I don't. I have you for all that, remember?" He looks at her for a long moment as they pause on the steps, his eyes bright and oddly intense from the liquor.

She looks away first. "Yes, well..."

He seems to understand. "My head is starting to pound. No more thinking. Goodbye, Pepper. Take the rest of the day off."

"But - "

"Leave Jarvis messages and the files on my workshop's desk. I'll get to them eventually."

This silences her. "I... um. Well then. I... have a good day, sir."

"Tony."

"Tony," she repeats. "Have a good day, Tony."

"Much better." And with one last grin, he meanders up the stairs and out of sight.

Number Three: February 3, 2007

She allows herself an unprofessional yawn as the clock strikes five fifty three AM. She left for her house rather early last night and came late this morning, since Tony had assured her that he'd be fine by himself when he got home from the gala. Now she has several phone calls to forward, messages to relay and, as always, paperwork he needs to sign. It's from the engineering sector though, so she's sure he won't mind.

"JARVIS, schedule an appointment with the engineering board for eleven AM today."

No answer. She frowns as she remembers that JARVIS is turned off when Tony goes to sleep. That's slightly inconvenient.

She would normally leave him alone, but it's almost six and the call from Obadiah seems particularly urgent. Besides, he always regrets it when he doesn't wake up before five thirty. He's much too busy to sleep this long. She's woken him before, and she'll do it every time it's necessary.

She cracks the master bedroom door open and walks in, surprised to see a lamp turned on. The warm glow illuminates some things in gold and throws others into brown shadow. The giant bed in the center left of the room is messy, two balls huddled under the covers. It takes a few seconds for the meaning to seep into her brain, and by then Tony has stirred and opened his eyes.

He sits up, disregarding the sleeping woman next to him. "Pepper?"

She averts her gaze and places a file on the bureau to her right. Then she turns around and exits silently.

She's not stupid: she knows Tony Stark is a womanizer. She's known it for ages now - the press isn't exactly discreet and the number of awful stories she's had to fight off can't be counted. But it's one thing to know it and another to see it right before her eyes.

She tells herself to stop hurting.

Going all the way downstairs, she turns on the computers and types in the security passwords.

"JARVIS, turn off Mr. Stark's alarms and cancel all appointments until he wakes up."

"My systems tell me that Mr. Stark is currently awake."

She ignores the roiling feeling that she feels in her stomach when the possibilities of what he could be doing pop into her head. Pushing it all away, she says, "Well, until he comes downstairs ready to work."

"Is Mr. Stark ever ready to work?" Pepper forces a laugh at Jarvis' humor but can't do much else.

"Push back all the internal office appointments till this afternoon, but cancel all external meetings until further notice - tomorrow if pressed. Email Obadiah Stane with one of the usual excuses, and tell Rhodes... actually, I'll call Rhodey myself." It'd give her something to do.

"As you wish, Ms. Potts. I should warn you that Mr. Stark is approach - "

"Stand by, JARVIS."

A new voice enters the room and Pepper doesn't bother to turn around. Who could it be other than him, after all?

"Pepper, I'm sorry."

She turns at that. "Why?"

The contrite expression on his face turns to one of puzzlement. "Why what?"

"Why are you sorry?" She shuffles a few documents on his desk absentmindedly. "You don't have to be. If anything, I'm sorry for waking you."

"I - "

"I'm your assistant, Mr. Stark." And by the way she addresses him, he knows its over. "Nothing more, nothing less. There's no need to apologize for your lifestyle."

She gives him a bland smile and exits, leaving him alone in the workshop.

Number Four: August 15, 2007

She's going to murder that man.

Yes, she'll be out of a job and yes, she'll be sent to prison, but it has to be better than the stress he gives her every day. Even now she's dealing with at least three people calling to inquire where he is. She lies and tells them all about an airport mixup and the delay that it'll inevitably cause. Hanging up, she fumes as she pushes his bedroom door open.

"Mr. Stark, you're supposed to be halfway to Berlin by - oh."

All the rage leaves and is replaced by extreme embarrassment as she sees what state of dress he's in - or state of undress, to be specific. She's always subconsciously known that her boss is, well, ripped thanks to the ridiculously tight shirts he wears when in his workshop, but to see it first hand is... disorientating.

"Oh, hey Pepper. Black or blue?"

She rips her attention away from his torso. "I - pardon?"

"Black or blue?" He holds two ties out to her, their colors the ones in question.

"Well, what shirt do you, um, plan on wearing?" She turns away toward the walk in closet, mentally berating herself for staring. He was probably smirking to himself right this very second, the self-righteous jerk -

"I was thinking the cream colored one from Zegna." He follows her to the closet and watches as she rifles through the multitude of dress shirts he has, locating the correct shirt and pulling it off the rack.

"Then I'd go with charcoal grey if I were you, sir." She takes the ties from his hand and puts them away, pulling the suggested color from the same shelf. "And the linen slacks to match, since the black ones you're currently wearing throws the whole ensemble." She walks down the aisle to the pants section.

"Are you suggesting I strip down to nothing but my boxers, Pepper?" There's definitely a hint of smugness in his voice as she looks for the correct slacks and her fingers slip, the wrong pair of trousers falling to the floor. She picks them up and re-hangs them, cheeks coloring. She pulls the right pair from the hanger and turns around to see him with his arms in the still-unbuttoned shirt.

"How else are you going to get dressed, Tony?" She smiles and thrusts the slacks into his arms before ducking around him and exiting.

Tony unfreezes half a minute later and laughs so loudly he feels like collapsing.

"Jarvis, where was she looking when she entered?"

"At the area between your pectorals and abdominal muscles, sir."

"Figured," he quips, grinning.

"Shall I inform Ms. Potts that you were looking at her gluteus maximus when she picked up your slacks?"

"Oh, shut up and go into sleep mode."

"As you wish, sir."

Number Five: January 30, 2008

"Is that porn?"

"No! No!"

"Don't lie to me!"

Number Six: May 12, 2008

She's on the phone with an important contact in China who's in charge of garnering as many rare earth minerals as he can for Stark Industries, but it's reached the point where it's all engineer-and-design speak, so she needs to hand off the phone to Tony. She marches down to the workshop basement and keys in the password, too busy flicking through yet another file to notice that Tony has hastily put the computers back to screensaver mode.

"Sir, Mr. Twansen is on the line asking about the rare earth minerals in China... what are you doing?"

"Nothing. Uh, nothing. What's up?"

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, she makes a hasty excuse to Twansen and hangs up. "What are you doing?"

"It's phrased as a question, Pepper, don't make it sound like a statement - "

"Answer the question."

"You made it sound like a statement; therefore, no answer is needed."

"JARVIS, what's he doing?"

"Attempting to make a monetary transaction, Ms. Potts."

"An monetary - so you're buying something. Why are you acting shifty?" Her foot starts to tap. "What are you buying, Tony?"

"Oh sure, now you call me Tony," he mutters.

"What are you buying?"

"I'm not buying anything!"

"If it's another nuclear core transplanter, ship it to the factory! I refuse to have you drilling holes through the floors again - replacing that marble was a nightmare, oh my God - "

"No one asked you to replace it with the same marble from Libya - "

"I couldn't just stopper the hole with cheap marble that didn't match - "

"Pepper, no one cares except you - "

"Well, if it's not a nuclear core transplanter, what is it?"

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again. "Nothing. I'm not buying anything."

Eyebrows raise. "Fine. Here's the file and Mr. Twansen's number - ha." She'd started forward and placed the file on the desk; Tony in his relief didn't notice she was about to move the mouse until she'd already done so. "Why on earth are you transferring money into someone else's account?

He fidgets uncomfortably. "It's your birthday soon," he bursts out.

"In four months, yes," she says slowly. "Oh. Were you - oh. Mr. Stark."

He glares. "You're doing that on purpose now." Her grin does nothing to dissuade him of this idea. "I just... I wanted to get you something, okay? Before I forgot."

"Well, thank you. But..."

"But I don't know what to get you, so I decided a monetary gift would work much nicer," he continues, blasting past her. "But I didn't exactly want to thrust an envelope of cash at you, so I figured this would be a lot more subtle."

"Since when are you subtle?"

"Since now." He continues to fidget. "I remembered this year."

"Yes, marked improvement from previous years." She's still smiling.

"I'm probably going to forget when it actually rolls around."

"You'll probably pretend to forget when it actually rolls around."

"Well..." He doesn't bother denying it. "At least you have your gift."

"Thank you very much, Tony."

"Don't mention it. No really, don't."

"I won't," she promises him. He's more likely to bring it up than she is. "So... will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That will be all, Ms. Potts."

He listens to each click her shoes make as she walks away.