"Anthony Stark, I assume?"

Wait, what?

The voice Tony heard when he slid into the back seat of his (newly replaced) Rolls-Royce did not come from Happy Hogan. And it certainly didn't come from Pepper, who was now sitting next to him and, unless Tony was hallucinating, hadn't said anything.

The engineer sought out the source of the question and found a tall man with black hair, narrow shoulders and cheekbones that could cut glass sitting in Happy's spot. Yeah, definitely hallucinating.

Anyone that hot should be in the back seat, not the front.

"Tony, actually. Just Tony."

The new driver turned, giving Tony a glance at green eyes under the brim of the cabbie's hat. And the beginnings of a sly smirk on his lips.

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

It took Tony at least twenty seconds to realize Pepper was talking to him.

"Tony, are you even listening to me? Stop staring at him, Tony. Tony. Tony!"

"Not really," Was Tony's very coherent response. He tore his eyes away from the driver and gave Pepper an exasperated look. "Where's Happy?"

"On vacation. This is Loki Odinson. He's your replacement driver until Happy gets back."

Tony squinted at the back of Loki's head as he pulled into traffic. "Does he have papers?"

"He's not a dog, Tony."

The engineer wrinkles his nose. "You know what I mean. Like a license or something."

Pepper sighed, "Of course he has a license. Tony, honestly-"

And that was about when Tony stopped caring what was coming out of Pepper's mouth. He was totally, completely focused on the driver's black silk gloves sliding smoothly over the steering wheel as they entered a turn. The playboy's mind, as usual, wandered to what those hands would look like sliding over other things..

Tony was just about to make an extraordinarily awkward remark about the remarkable length of Loki Odinson's fingers when Pepper snapped him out of his trance. Literally. She snapped in his face. He wasn't a dog. Was today bad dog joke day or something?

"Tony, if you keep looking at him like that I am witnessing against you when he sues you for sexual harassment."

"This again? Really? Pep this is the whole point of being a playboy. They want this," He gestured emphatically to the general vicinity of his crotch.

"Tony, this is not the time to discus your sexual-

"Where's he from?" Tony asked abruptly, cutting his assistant off.

"What did you just ask me?"

"You heard me. He has an accent. Where's he from?"

Pepper went to say something but Loki spoke over her.

"Manchester, originally."

Damn that soft, smooth voice. It was like melted chocolate. Tony loved chocolate.. And now he suddenly had the urge to lick chocolate off of his new driver's- The engineer found himself staring again and shook himself out of it this time. "Hey where are we going anyway?"

No one answered. That was just not polite. Ignored was not a state Tony was used to.

"Screw you too. If no one wants to tell me then I'm just going to keep thinking about chocolate." Tony paused and stared at the back of the driver's neck again, "I didn't mean to say that. Never mind me."

Pepper Potts was not paid enough. Loki determined that about five seconds after Mr. Stark climbed into the car. He did not know how much Miss Potts was paid, but it was not enough. Clearly.

The way Stark was staring at him was enough to warrant his arrest, although Loki hardly considered it offensive. Garnering the attraction of an internationally famous and very heterosexual playboy wasn't something Loki did every day.

Stark's fixation, however, made the driver wonder what he was thinking about. He had a feeling it had something to do with chocolate.

Miss Potts had assured Loki that his relationship to Mr. Stark would remain professional. Loki knew it would be anything but. Why else would he have taken the job?

...

Four days earlier...

Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes and Loki's shift would be over. He could get out of this uniform and out of this Goddammed restaurant. Maybe he'd have to go home, shower, change, and head to his night job standing on the corner under a burnt out street lamp like a low budget noir film. Maybe he'd have to endure another sleepless night in a stranger's bed. But at least he would be away from this hell. At least he wouldn't have to be /social/. The tips were terrible too. No wonder he had to moonlight as an underpaid hooker.

Loki snorted as he dropped the last bill for his shift next to a woman's elbow. He wasn't supposed to snort. His employer said that derisive comments were not acceptable. Loki said that he was surprised the man knew what derisive meant.

But he snorted. And the woman heard it. She paused in her tirade to the person on the other end of her phone call (something about appointments and poor timing on the part of an individual by the name of "Happy") and looked up at Loki.

She was pretty, in a plain sort of way. If you liked strawberry blondes. And if Loki swung that way.

"Is there a problem?" She asked, breaking through Loki's thoughts and his attempt to slink away.

"Oh nothing. Just wondering what the fuss is. Yet another web in the disgusting chaos of society." Wonderful job, Loki. Tangle yourself in other people's business. Although he had to admit the woman looked like she needed a patient ear, and whoever was on the other end of the phone call wasn't cutting it. Not that Loki could be considered a patient ear. Or patient in any way. Despite that, people tended to tell him their problems whether or not he wanted to listen.

"My boss's driver and bodyguard is on vacation for the next three weeks. It wouldn't be a problem except Mr. Stark has dozens of meetings lined up for the next month. It isn't really your problem though."

Damn straight, he thought.

Loki, though, was surprised by the woman's quick, concise train of thought and indifference in involving Loki.

The woman chuckled and held out her hand for Loki to shake. "Unless you happen to have a current driving license and martial arts training."

Then something clicked. Mr. Stark. Tony Stark, the billionaire inventor, was looking for a driver. With a job like that Loki could get out of waiting tables and realizing clients' wet dreams. Well, if Loki got this job, he might be realizing a few more, if certain reputations held up.

A chance to lift himself out of the dregs of society and possibly sleep with a billionaire? How could he pass this up.

In five seconds he had taken his note pad out of his apron pocket and shoved his cell number into the woman's hand.

"I have a flawless driving record and a black belt in capeoria. Call me."

That was how Pepper came into the possession of the phone number of one Loki Odinson.

...

Tony Stark was a highly attractive individual, and he certainly made every effort to live up to his reputation. So if Loki accidentally ended up in the back seat of the Rolls-Royce at the end of the day, well..no one could blame him.