Gah. I have no excuses. Sorry. Thanks for all the support though. I love you guys! 3

For the record, I blame my insane hormone fluctuations for everything that happened from the moment Tony Stark set foot in my office to the second his flashy sports car sped off the property. It's the only excuse I have for my inexplicable behavior, and it isn't even a very good one.

We were kissing, ravenous and frantic, within five minutes of his arrival. I had closed my office door, turned around and he was there. Handsome and carefree with a dashing smirk on his tanned face. I was lucky I hadn't melted into a puddle of human goo right then.

Brief pleasantries were exchanged. I vaguely remember Tony complimenting me on the smooth running of my shelter, and before I could broach the subject of his proposition, we had locked eyes and it was all over for me.

I reached up and snaked my arms around his neck as his hands smoothed their way under my shirt, passed my lab coat. The kiss grew more heated and I could feel my muscles relaxing in a way they hadn't in such a long time. It didn't matter in that moment who he was (a manipulating, arrogant bastard) or why he was here (to make me feel obligated to do his bidding because of the inappropriate check he wrote), all that mattered was that I felt good. And he was warm and smelled heavenly.

My body certainly remembered his, arching into his touch as he ran his palm from the small of my back to the swell of my breasts. Tony's soft lips, contrasted by the bristles of his beard, moved to blaze a trail of kisses from my breathless lips to my collarbone. I caught and forced a moan that was building right back down my throat; the last thing I needed was my staff to hear this embarrassing lack of judgement.

Oddly enough, it was the freeing feeling of my bra being unclasped, that blissful moment when one's breasts are no longer confined or pushed up against gravity, that brought me back to my senses. Tony slyly creeped one hand up to cup my now bare chest, but I caught it and shoved it back down before it distracted me further.

"We should stop," I murmured, half-heartedly. Tony either didn't hear me or just flat out ignored me and kept on kissing up and down my neck. If he left a hickey I'd have no way to hide it, so I grabbed his head and held it back up to eye level.

"You came here to talk, remember?" I tried my best to look stern while looking into his handsome, just-kissed face.

"'S'not important," he mumbled and brought me right back into another searing kiss. I gave him a moment to enjoy himself, but pulled away again as his hands creeped back up to my breasts.

"We're not having sex in my office, Tony." Clearly, when dealing with men like Tony Stark, being direct and to the point was the best approach. He took a step back and ran both hands through his hair.

"Party pooper," he accused with a mock-glare.

"Oh don't even start with me right now! I am so not in the mood," I replied, reaching behind and under my shirt to refasten my bra. It felt like such an odd thing to do at work, and for a moment I entertained the thought that I was really dreaming and today had never happened. It was going pretty well until the nausea from earlier increased tenfold, and my head filled with the aching throb of my own heartbeat.

"Are you okay, Lucy?" It was such an unexpected thing for him to ask. Never before did I ever associate Tony Stark with caring about my well-being, or even remotely being aware that I had feelings other than sexual desires. I didn't know whether to laugh at the absurdity or sob (like one is want to do when the answer to the question is a glaring " fuck no").

"Not particularly, no," I replied, intending to sound aloof, but failing horribly because I saw Tony get that look on his face that men tend to get when they sense the woman in front of them is about to cry. A mix of equal parts pitying and terrified. An awkward silence hung in the air between us like a tangible thing I could reach out and strangle.

And then Lucky, who I had wrongly assumed was still sleeping soundly in his corner, ambled up on his three good legs toward Tony and, as a greeting, stuck his big, wet nose right in Tony's crotch. God bless the handicapped canine.

The urge to cry turned into hysterical laughter as Tony yelped like seal and doubled over in obvious pain. He then shouted some rude names at poor Lucky, who didn't even look phased at all and was calmly sniffing Tony's leather shoes. I somehow had the motor control through my tears of mirth to slap him for insulting such a sweet dog.

"He was just trying to say hello to you," I gasped out as I started to come down my my insane giggling.

"Oh, yeah I'm sure he was. You know if you hadn't already neutered him, I'd have half a mind to kick the furry bastard right in the-"

"Shut your mouth before I neuter you too!"

Tony, still a little red in the face, winced involuntarily and shifted his stance. "That isn't funny."

he replied very seriously.

"It wasn't supposed to be," I said darkly and bent down to gently lead Lucky back to his nest of towels. Once he was settled, I tossed him a treat from the jar on my desk.

"Why does that get a treat? I'm the one that got nosed in the junk!" Tony pouted, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "Where's my treat?" he breathed into my ear as he rested his head on my shoulder and nuzzled into my neck. Unfortunately for Tony and his "junk", my mood had swung in yet another direction and I was not feeling the whole "being touched" thing.

"Feel free to help yourself," I replied, shrugging him off me and stepping behind the shelter of my desk. I held out the jar of dog treats to him. "I also have beef flavored if you don't like lamb and rice."

"Ah, no thank you. I'm trying to watch my figure."

I slouched into my office chair, took a deep breath in and released it with a mighty sigh. Resisting the urge to slam my head down on my desk and pretend he wasn't there, I instead looked Tony square in the eyes with a (hopefully) woefully unamused expression and bade him to sit down. After a moment, he gave in and took a seat in one the paw-print upholstered chairs in front of my desk.

"So, you mentioned over the phone that you had something to discuss with me." I began, desperately trying to seize the reins of this strange meeting and steer it into a responsible, adult conversation.

Clearly fighting back a laugh, Tony nodded. "Yes, I have a business proposition for you Ms. DeVane."

"What business could Stark Industries possibly have with an animal shelter. Are you looking for a four-legged sidekick? Wait, that actually makes sense. No human could ever put up with your massive ego long enough to be second banana to his majesty, so you're going to make an Iron Dog?" So much for adult conversation. I knew mocking Tony hardly made me any better than him, but I couldn't help myself. I guess you could say he brought out my sarcastic side.

"God, no. Iron Dog is still very much in the theoretical stages of development. It's way too soon to be looking for test pilots. I was thinking of something more along the lines of you becoming my second banana, as you so eloquently put it."

"Don't you already have an assistant, Tony? And regardless, I have a job. If you haven't noticed, you are in fact sitting in my office. I even have my own assistant and everything." I replied, speaking slowly and clearly (and of course, mockingly). At this point I would have paid him to leave me alone, but god knows the man already has enough money.

"Dear God, this is your office? I thought we were in a supply closet!" Tony quipped, and my hands itched to slap that stupid smirk of his face. So, yeah, my office was a little cluttered. But that tends to happen when one is in charge of an animal shelter that is rapidly becoming much too big to be contained by one building.

My eyes flicked briefly to the check still sitting casually on my desktop, and I bit my cheek to prevent another wisecrack from slipping out. No matter how infuriating I found the man, his money would solve a lot of problems at the shelter, and if his proposition could bring in even more, I had to at least listen to Tony. My stomach churned at the thought, but I held my head high and regarded him with an uneasy smile.

"Yes, this is my office. And I hate to rush you, but I do have to get back to work soon, so-"

To his credit (and my surprise), Tony caught my sudden switch to professional-mode and went along with it. "Ah, right. Well, this isn't a job offer per se. It's more of a uh, partnership."

"This isn't some Christian Grey sex-contract thing is it?" I blurted out, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable by his words. I nervously twitched in my seat when he grinned salaciously at me.

"Sweetheart, Christian Grey has nothing on me. And no. This partnership, unfortunately is not about sex, well unless you're interes-"

"Just get to the point, Iron Man."

He took a deep breath, slouched in his chair and let out an enormous sigh. "I kinda, sorta need you to be my fake girlfriend."

Was I having a stroke? I blinked. "Fake...?"

"Yes, fake. Now before you say no-" He said as my brain kick-started back up from it's shock and I opened my mouth the protest, vehemently. "Your father is the one that came up with the whole scheme."

"My dad... what the hell are you talking about Stark?" Charles DeVane may not have been the world's number one father, but I was pretty sure he wasn't the type to pimp out his only progeny. Especially not to his main business competitor.

"The merger," he replied like I was mentally deficient. "Your old man came up with this PR stunt to help appease the boards and public. You, the prodigal daughter, and I make a few appearances at some-"

"Shut up! Merger? And my dad hates you. The only reason you're ever invited to any of his events is for the press."

Tony smirked at that, a stupid, knowing smirk that made me want to sic Lucky on him again.

"AND-" I started again, "I have absolutely nothing to do with my father's company. So, my answer is no. Sorry for any inconvenience. I'll have my assistant show you out." Tony's hand shot out to grab my wrist before I could buzz Drew.

"You kinda just summed up whole point of this. Stark Industries and Future Dynamics have never exactly been chummy. And the press sure as hell has realized that through the years. But with the merger coming up, things have to change. The last thing we need is people to assume this as a hostile take-over-" I cut him off again, after yanking my wrist out of his grasp.

"You keep mentioning this goddamn merger. What merger?" My stomach did this weird, anxious flip and I think I knew the answer before Tony answered.

"Your dad didn't tell you? I'm buying Future Dynamics."