Always

After Iron Monger, and Whiplash, and Hammer, and Loki, and the Chitauri, whenever Tony remembered that nameless cave somewhere in Afghanistan, those personally harrowing three months seemed rather small in comparison.

It was one thing to have gone through terror - it was another to realize that he wasn't alone. Bruce and Cap, and even Natasha and Thor had their own store of horror stories, which they slowly shared. Clint didn't talk much beyond quips, but Tony could see the history in his eyes. The same, quite literally, went for Fury.

Realizing he loved Pepper had made a big difference too, of course. Although. . . it had taken over six weeks for him to convince himself that just wanting her was even safe. Then it had taken six months for him to be sure that loving her was right. For at least four of those months, the mere presence of any woman in his near vicinity was enough to make him shake with panic for that woman's safety. He'd been so comfortable with Natalie around for the simple reason that she'd proven she could fight back. She was obviously the last person on earth who would ever be helpless. Like most people, he hated that helpless feeling himself, but now, in his eyes, seeing other people helpless was quite definitely worse.

Twice rescuing Pepper from imminent danger had helped his panic reaction some, but honestly, where she was concerned, he just didn't want to take the risk.

And who would have ever thought that? Of him?

But that hadn't stopped him from forming a foundation - he had started it right after outing himself as Iron Man.

It was called the Seven Women Foundation, and its mission was to build and maintain schools, safehouses and hospitals for women throughout the Middle East and Asia, and was about to expand into Africa. It had become very popular very quickly, and now it ran with some of the most easily acquired government funding the U.S. had ever granted. The president himself loved the idea, and Tony had built up his own Boy Scout points by promoting it over the past year.

He never told anyone the story behind it, though. Not S.H.I.E.L.D., especially not Pepper, and not even Banner, who had clearly also been though hell and back, and might have understood. Truth was, Tony was actually a little jealous of Bruce and his ability to get stronger the more angry he got.

If I could have broken out of that cave the first day I was there. . .

But regrets did nothing but cut open old wounds.

And it isn't like those seven deaths are the only ones I have to regret. . .

He and Pepper had been putting the finishing touches on the re-build model of the Stark Tower all afternoon, and he had been stealing kisses whenever he could. Teasing her was fun, especially when she wore her casual clothes. It had been quite a pleasant surprise, the first time she had shown up in something other than her strict, sombre work attire. Now, when they were together, she would commonly wear sandels, and light, frilly tops, and shorts, or nice slacks, and sometimes. . . heaven help him. . . his t-shirts. She had to take a shower sometimes, and didn't always want to put on her own clothes afterward. It had been a rather delightful discovery to find out how good she looked in his old baggy red cotton MIT shirt with the fraying hem.

Hot damn. . . he didn't deserve such a lovely woman. . .

And apparently she knew that, but she was still with him, regardless.

The best part about it all was that she never pushed, never rushed, never deliberately tempted him - in short, never made him think she was doing something just because he was a man. . . and because men. . .

He never got much further in his analysis of their relationship, he was just glad she was there.

And that she was never afraid of him. For him, yes, but never of him. Yes, that was important. . .

"Tony, you okay?" The light worry in her voice broke him out the brown study he'd fallen into.

"Hmm?" he looked up, "Yeah."

"I asked - do you want some?" She was holding out a glass with a very nice white wine in it. It was her favorite. Once he'd discovered that, it had quickly become his favorite too.

"Sure. . ." A half a glass of wine with his best friend at the end of a productive day. . .

Jeeze, who would have ever thought Tony Stark was content to play house?

But he was. They sipped, and talked, and made funny little snacks out of crackers and cheese and olives and bits and pieces of the takeout leftovers that always filled up his kitchen.

And, not for the first time, they ended up on the couch, making out like teenagers, and just as absurdly hesitant to go any further.

Both want and need were out the window. It was down to trust, and had been for a while now.

He was absorbed in making her giggle by tickling the inside of her elbow with his beard, when all at once she slid into his lap, making it very clear what she wanted.

She unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Tony, I'm tired of waiting. . ."

You have no idea. . . "Mmm, me too," he buried his nose behind her ear.

Her fingers raked his hair, "Been waiting so long. . ."

He curved his hands behind her knees, pulling her closer, "Yeah. . ."

"Waited my whole life for you. . ."

"What?" his eyes snapped up to hers, his expression unbelieving and openly terrified.

"Tony. . ." she soothed, quite softly and unashamedly, "I'm a virgin, I. . ."

He had no clear memory of the next few minutes, but he must have pushed her away, and bolted to the other side of the penthouse, because he was kneeling in a corner, shaking all over, his face wet with tears he didn't remember crying.

She was standing over him, her face so worried, her eyes looking so hurt. . .

He couldn't stand her not knowing any more.

He desperately pulled her down next to him, holding her against the RT, and he took a few deep breaths.

Then he closed his eyes tight, and for the first time ever, started a sentence with the six words he had sworn he'd never say - never to anyone, and especially not to her.

"When I was in the cave. . ."

The story came out brokenly, half rushed and half explained, all the gore hastily skipped over, and all the implications pitifully clear nonetheless.

Seven women had died to make him who he was today.

She was shocked - he had been prepared for that. She got a little nauseous - he was surprisingly somewhat comforted by that. She asked questions he couldn't answer - he hadn't known just exactly how unprepared for this conversation he really was. And she cried. He had known all along that she would, but it still killed him to see her cry.

And he could see she understood. At last, she got it - why. Why nowadays he still ogled women, but was entirely hands-off. Why he filled his speech with innuendo more than ever before, but never acted on any of it. Why she had found zero porn on all of his computers for over a year. Why giving up the overnight "guests" had been so immediate and easy and permanent. Why he'd been so tentative with her for so long; why he cared more about her safety than her emotions so often; and most of all, why he had been so terrified of her inexperience just now.

She was the first one to know just exactly the extent of the mental trauma those three months had inflicted on him.

She was also the only one alive who could understand just how much he wanted to. . . adore. . . and cherish. . . and yes, he'd take the risk - love her in consequence.

But he couldn't trust her when his own self-trust was non-existent.

"And I just. . . I couldn't. . . when I realized. . . when you didn't answer your phone, I thought. . ." he ended his story, awkwardly.

"Answer my phone?" She said, confused, but gamely trying to make a joke, "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

He chuffed a nervous laugh, "No, I mean. . . during the invasion. . . when I put the missile through the portal. . . I called you, and you didn't answer. . ."

She had no idea what that little incident had to do with anything, but it clearly did, so she asked.

"If I had answered, Tony, what would you have said?" She brushed the damp hair of his bangs out of his eyes.

"Thank you."

"Thank you?" She hugged him, since he so obviously needed it, "Is that all?"

"Yes," he said into the crook of her neck, "Thank you for being safe."

There was no answer to that. The sun had gone down, and the brilliant starry lights of the city shone though the open space of the penthouse. Jarvis hadn't brought up their indoor lights - they hadn't asked him to. She still knelt there, holding him, rocking him like a child, staring fixedly at the misty lights of the city.

She blinked. She looked again. It was raining.

She grinned a little, and stood up, pulling him with her.

"Well, Mr. Stark, regardless of what we do, or don't do tonight, one thing is obvious." She spoke clearly and calmly, in her best PA voice.

His mouth twitched at her familiar tone, "And what's that, Ms Potts?"

"You need to do one thing you never done before," she grinned at him, "And I know just the thing. . ." she took his hand and led him outside. Far from ignoring the rain, she opened her arms to the sky, letting the rain wet her hair and run down her clothes. She twirled and laughed like a little girl, then looked back to see him watching her, the rain starting to plaster his hair to his forehead and soak through his blazer.

He put out an arm and held her shoulders close, bringing the tip of his nose to just touch hers.

"How did you know I'd never done this?" he whispered.

"You never showered outside when it rained. . . "

He laughed delightedly for a few seconds before choking on the memories. He took one of her hands in his, settling the other one on her hip, and led her in an awkward, soggy, ridiculous, beautiful, necessary dance.

And at last, after untold months of mental paralysis, he let his mind think her name.

Virginia. . .

The irony of the name was not lost on him.

Virginia. . . Virginia. . . Virginia. . .

Something inside him felt. . . clean. He clung to her like the lifeline she was, completely ignoring the chilly rain that was soaking them both.

"Promise me something?" he ran his lips over her collarbone, relishing the gasp that started her reply.

"Anything."

"No matter how long it takes. . ." he buried his head in the crook of her neck, "You'll stay."

He felt her mouth smile against his ear.

"Always."

Fin