Allegedly I am Tony Stark's "personal whipping girl," but let's be honest; that's just not true! Suffice it to say that you can call me Pepper, and anything you don't know about me you are probably better off not knowing.
The New York skyline was blanketed with deep grey clouds. It seemed too perfect that they would fall on the day in which the Avengers had to say their final goodbyes to their fallen comrade. Atop a small hill within Cypress Hills National Cemetery, a flag draped coffin lay…
Pepper slipped silently into place beside Tony as Bobbi finished her succinct eulogy. Sitting amidst the intimate group of the deceased Agent’s teammates, the svelte woman felt more than a bit out of place. However, she maintained such a meticulously graceful posture that her unease was barely visible. Truth be told, her exterior visage during the funeral would most likely later lead Tony’s partners in crime to wonder whether or not she had actually known the deceased man at all, mistaking her poise for insincerity.
She glanced at the grim and gaunt faces of the men and women whose eyes were glued to the understated yet tasteful casket, carefully avoiding Tony’s gaze. Although this was a part of Tony’s life in which she had not yet been able to totally immerse herself, she had been somewhat acquainted with Clint Barton. Thus in the short moment when her eyes met Rhodey’s in the crowd, the sudden rush of familiarity coupled with the plain grief resplendent upon his face almost overwhelmed her. The sorrow visible only in her eyes was completely honest as she bowed her head slightly in recognition of her friend’s pain before finally resting her gaze upon the solemn casket.
Pepper never wondered for a second whether she should or should not say anything to Tony; she knew that her silent camaraderie would speak more than her words ever could. She simply sat in silence, grieving imperceptibly for the injustice and untimeliness with which an acquaintance’s life had been taken.
The door opened more swiftly than she had anticipated, and Pepper was left holding one hand aloft awkwardly. Lowering it slowly, she quirked an eyebrow. “Emails? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She breezed past Tony’s chair and sat primly on the edge of his desk, giving only a scant half of her attention to the blackberry still clutched in her left palm that was vibrating quietly every twenty seconds. “I’m here to call a truce,” she placated, eyes flicking away from the faceplate of her phone briefly. “Or do I have to know some super secret handshake and passcode to be taken seriously around here?” She rolled her eyes and switched her phone off, placing it carefully on the desk beside her. Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb, she continued, “And for the record, it’d make my life a whole lot easier if you could talk to your new… coworkers… about not spreading rumors regarding your engagement in illegal activity. Did you remember to get everyone’s NDAs? I hope you kept them on file, somewhere.” She glanced around grimaced and at the papers, schematics, and coffee mugs scattered haphazardly throughout the room.
Tony watched Pepper as she brushed past him, talking over her from time to time as she spoke. “I’m sure you have some idea of the emails, Pep, It’s not like you to not check your phone.” He grinned broadly as he caught a glance of it in her hand.
“Yeah, the super secret handshake is in the first section of the manual, I sent it in an urgent email.” He snarked, talking over the end of her question, his lips curling into more of a smirk than the toothy grin that had previously covered his face. He watched her set down her phone and leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers on his lap and crossing his legs somewhat daintily. He twisted slightly in the chair, watching her stress level rise and feeling a pang of guilt about it, and stopped grinning so much, pulling out his phone and putting a stopper on the couple hundred automated emails he was sending with various boy band lyrics in the body.
“I have all the NDA’s, the Liability waivers, their tax forms for Stark Industries income all in a file in the top drawer in my desk.” He rolled his eyes, twiddling his thumbs together. “You act like I’m totally useless.” he accused her, flashing her a smile before a somewhat more stern expression pulled back onto his lips. He casually avoided answering the request to keep his teammates from spreading rumors. He stood with a huff and walked around behind his desk and opened the drawer, the file magically gone. “Well.. I’ll …have it to you…” he silently added, when I remember where I put it. “Why is it important anyway?” He asked, rubbing his temple idly, placing a hand on the desk and arching an eyebrow at Pepper.
“Why is it important?” Pepper stared at him in what can only be described as abject terror. “I would expect you of all people to know why having your highest ranking employees-your partners in crime!-sign NDAs is of the utmost importance. This is especially true because you are obviously far from the gold-star standard of Christlike behavior. And on top of that, this group seems extremely chatty. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t one of them say that he works for a newspaper? A real, honest to goodness New York newspaper?” Hopping off the desk, she wagged her finger angrily in Tony’s face. By this point, Pepper’s voice had risen almost half an octave, and her face was starting to flush. She continued, ignoring Tony, who continually and habitually attempted to speak over her, “And Agent Barton? It’s one thing if they want to say crude things about each other, but publicly insinuating that you have had sexual relations with a minor?”
She held up a hand in front of Tony’s face, cutting off his response. “No, I don’t care if those allegations are true or not; do you even know how many of your shareholders, newscasters, “internet bloggers…” she accentuated this term with overly aggressive air quotations, “and the like called me because of that? Enough that I had to change our office phone number… which should have been private in the first place. I assume it was leaked by someone on your end, since they are all so into sharing!”
By now, Pepper’s face had become a startling shade of red. Suddenly, she closed her eyes and breathed heavily, shoulders heaving slightly with the intake of breath. Her eyes snapped open, and she hastily yanked on the hem of the designer pencil skirt that had wormed its way up her thighs, readjusting it into its proper position. In a calm, collected manner, she began again, “I expect hardly anything from you. You know that.” She held her hand up again, cutting him off. “I do, however, reserve the right to hope-not expect, but hope-that if you were going to work with a group of people who repeatedly and unabashedly attempt to make my job more difficult, you would at least have their paperwork in order.”
You mean hot, curvaceous, black and with amazing hair ?
I mean in the context of Chris Brown.
Oh, ouch.
I don’t know, never got her that mad. She is a redhead. Good luck with that.
Thanks, I appreciate that. If she kills me, I’m sure you’ll cry tears of joy. But the sentiment was nice.
It’s funny, Clinton, but I didn’t take you for the jealous fanboy type. The way that you insult me to try to get a rise out of Tony would almost be sweet… if this were the third grade.
While reading through your inappropriate, lewd posts, I wondered, “Why is he picking a fight with me? What did I do to deserve this?”
But, taking some time to cool off, my new attitude on the situation became: “I will actually kill this idiot.”
In retrospect, though, jeopardizing my career over a jealous fanboy who can’t accept that the superhero he looks up to has real people in his life who care about him just isn’t worth it.
So go ahead and slander me all you want; just don’t forget who pays your bills at the end of the week. Tony may have a soft spot for you ragtag bunch of vigilantes, but where do you think his funding is coming from?
Pepper rapped swiftly on Tony’s door, eyes glued to the blackberry she held aloft in her other hand. “I know you’re in there, so don’t bother pretending you’ve gone out to lunch or something,” she called as she scrolled through the hundreds upon hundreds of allegedly urgent emails flooding her…
Tony lazed on the chair in his room, his fingers sheathed inside a metal gauntlet belonging to his Iron Man armor. He was updating the touch sensors on the inside to feel beyond a slight sensation for pain, he wanted to have a full spectrum of feelings on his fingertips, including hot and cold, for one thing. He jerked up suddenly in his chair as the loud rapping echoed through the thin door. Tony slid the glove off slowly, scowling at his timing and checking his phone to see if his emails were still sending. They were. A smug grin pulled at the corners of his cheeks as he realized that was likely why Pepper was here. He put down the glove and turned off his soldering iron, and pulled on a shirt over his bare chest. Tony spun in the chair, and rolled towards the door, giving it a slight push open and sitting in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked upward.
“Get my emails then?”
The door opened more swiftly than she had anticipated, and Pepper was left holding one hand aloft awkwardly. Lowering it slowly, she quirked an eyebrow. “Emails? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She breezed past Tony’s chair and sat primly on the edge of his desk, giving only a scant half of her attention to the blackberry still clutched in her left palm that was vibrating quietly every twenty seconds. “I’m here to call a truce,” she placated, eyes flicking away from the faceplate of her phone briefly. “Or do I have to know some super secret handshake and passcode to be taken seriously around here?” She rolled her eyes and switched her phone off, placing it carefully on the desk beside her. Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb, she continued, “And for the record, it’d make my life a whole lot easier if you could talk to your new… coworkers… about not spreading rumors regarding your engagement in illegal activity. Did you remember to get everyone’s NDAs? I hope you kept them on file, somewhere.” She glanced around grimaced and at the papers, schematics, and coffee mugs scattered haphazardly throughout the room.
Pepper rapped swiftly on Tony’s door, eyes glued to the blackberry she held aloft in her other hand. “I know you’re in there, so don’t bother pretending you’ve gone out to lunch or something,” she called as she scrolled through the hundreds upon hundreds of allegedly urgent emails flooding her inbox.
Over the past few months, she had gotten used to her email inbox filling pretty quickly. However, today was different. Tony had gotten his panties in a wad about her angry breakdown in the lobby last night and had decided that the best retaliation was to send a series of close to four hundred one-word emails that, when read in order, spelled out the lyrics of multiple Boyz-2-Men songs. They were all marked as “urgent” or “requiring immediate attention,” so she had to physically read each email before she could delete it.
Oh believe me, there hasn’t been much charm out of him. Still, I’m used to the ‘geek’ comments.
Watch yourself, Parker. At first you think those sorts of cruel and unjust comments are a detriment to your mental health… but suddenly they become sort of endearing. He takes great pains to burrow his constant berating so far into your mental health that you feel you cannot survive without it. Not that I speak from experience; rather, I’ve seen it happen before, and I’d rather not see it happen again. Not to kids like you, at least.
Clint, actually. I’m glad he hasn’t, he’d probably just badmouth me anyway. Best in the world. For dealing…
Likewise, though it’d be nice to meet in person at one point or another. Alright, my bad. The guy does have his moments but mostly, he’s just a giant prick. A womanizing, perverted, giant prick. Who loves to hit on underage girls online. Seriously, how do you deal with him on a daily basis ?
Oh, no. He would. He’s done it before, you just haven’t heard it firsthand. I’m pretty sure he’ll do it again at the first opportunity he gets. He didn’t have much luck within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s HQ, if that makes you feel better.
Dealing with Tony on a daily basis becomes simultaneously easier and much, much more difficult as your physical distance increases. He stops responding to your attempts at communication which is maddening if you are, for example, in charge of his day to day life.. but it also makes for a lovely respite.
If this were a more formal setting I would send you a written apology on expensive letterhead detailing my specific and poignant condolences regarding his berating of your manhood. But as this is not actually a formal setting, take this instead: you knew what you were signing up for. You all have made your own bed and you’ve got to lie in it… although I will try to tuck the corners in around your feet, if I can. It’s probably the least I can do, having the most experience with Tony Stark the Boy Wonder.
Wait, hitting on underage girls online? On… on here? Is there proof? Evidence? For the love of god, Clint, tell me there isn’t evidence…!
Pepper! Boy am I glad to see you. I was beginning to think that this whole initiative of Tony's was going to crash and burn. Maybe you can keep him in line...?
Hello, Darcy. I hear that Tony offered you a position within his new “Initiative.” You already know my standpoint on this issue (read: ‘get out while you still can!’) so I’m not going to bother you with the long story. Let me know if you run into any problems.
