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crack_van2010-09-27 06:05 pm
sandystarr88.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-09-27 06:05 pm
Entry tags:
Days Like These by abvj (PG-13)
Fandom: MARVEL UNIVERSE: IRON MAN MOVIEVERSE
Pairing: Tony/Pepper, mentions of Pepper/OMC
Length: 4,000
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: 'fic' tag
Why this must be read:
Because this piece has a wonderful Pepper point of view on her relationship with Tony and why they won't take the next step and become something more, at least for now. Their dynamic is perfectly displayed in this story, and is a definite must read for fans of the pairing.
“Fuck, Pepper. That hurts.”
Pepper pauses, q-tip poised above her boss’s eyebrow as she arches her own. “I’ve had worse cuts than this from shaving, Mr. Stark. Stop being a baby.”
“I wasn’t being a baby.”
“Oh, really?”
“I was just merely… commenting on your sudden abrasive technique when it comes to playing Florence Nightingale.”
A dry chuckle, and she presses deeper into the cut than she means to. “Florence Nightingale? You’re writing a fascinating version of history here.”
Tony winces and glares out of the corner of his eye. “You’re right. You are much hotter.”
Pepper smirks. “Good to know.”
“And you wear stilettos better than, let’s face it, half the fuckin’ female population and,” he stops talking abruptly, leaning back to look at her fully, eyes roaming over her from head to toe. His eyes shoot up to hers and she blushes in spite of herself. “Whoa, whoa, whoa you were not wearing that earlier.”
“Pity the person who tries to get things past you, Mr. Stark.”
“Potts,” he says, lazy grin in place as he leans back in his chair. “You look… good.”
Pepper refuses to look him in the eye because the thing about Tony is, well, he’s hot. And she’s a woman, she can admit that freely, so when he says things like that, it does something to her insides that it shouldn’t, can’t and when Pepper replies with a cool, “I know,” smirk in place, the blush imbedded into her skin betrays her.
If Tony notices, he doesn’t comment.
They’ve gotten very good at this – this avoidance, this constant progression and regression of one step forward, five steps back
“You didn’t have to get all dressed up to come over and take care of little ‘ole me, you know. Not that I’m complaining because your legs in that dress look,” his eyes meet hers and he clears his throat, pausing.“Really, really long. Long. I was going to say Long. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
She smirks and moves onto the next cut. There was a fight against a missile of some sort (and Pepper keeps moving and moving because jesus, a missile and there are some things she just can’t get used to) and his body is covered in a million different tiny little cuts and bruises.
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
“I had a date.”
“A date?”
“You knew this.”
He thinks about it for a second. “I did?”
“Remember when I came down and told you that I was leaving because I had plans, and you said, and I quote, okay, Potts, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and I replied that well, that wouldn’t be much, but I’ll sure try my damnedest and you smiled that insufferable little smile and then I left?”
Tony looks at her a beat longer than usual and he’s trying his hardest not to let that corner of his mouth twitch upwards. Naturally, she cracks first, her own lifting up just slightly.
“You remember all that?”
“You pay me to remember things, Mr. Stark.”
“I pay you to remember my smile?” He grins cheekily, looking awfully pleased with himself. Pepper rolls her eyes. “Are we going to have a heartfelt moment here when you tell me I have five smiles or some bullshit like that and you tell me that you find me completely and utterly irresistible.”
“In your dreams.”
Tony grins and it’s all teeth. “Naturally,” he says, and then after a moment, “So, you like my smile.”
“That is not what I said.”
“You really did. It’s okay, you can admit it. I’m cool with that. Would it make you feel better if I told you that I liked yours, too? Even the playing field a little bit?”
Pepper sighs, long and suffering and knows better, so she just lets it go. They fall into a silence and she reaches for a mini band-aide, opening it with nimble fingers and placing it on top of the gash near his brow. She’s on auto-pilot almost, fingers smoothing the ridges of the plastic out perfectly. The feel of his skin under her finger tips, warm and soft, the sight of his body covered in bruises barely gets to her anymore.
They do this a lot.
“There,” she says, taking a step backwards. He hops off the chair and saunters over to the wet bar to pour himself a scotch. She reaches for her coat.
“So,” he begins after a thick swallow, waving a hand in-between them.“How was it?”
“It?”
Another swallow. “Your date.”
She tries not smile at the acridness dripping off the words. “It was nice.”
“Just nice? For that dress I sure as hell hope it was better than nice.”
“Oh-kay, it was better than nice.”
“That’s good.”
A tiny smile plays at the corner of her lips. He sounds jealous and her skin tingles with satisfaction.
“Thank you.”
“You deserve better than nice,” he says. “That’s all I’m saying.”
They stare at each other again, distance and silence between them, and there’s that look again, wistful almost, and it’s probably the wine from dinner, but she swears it’s almost as if Tony is looking right through her.
It unnerves her. She’s the first to look away.
(This, too, inevitably, they do a lot.)
“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” she asks, grasping for familiar ground as she idly plays with a button on her coat.
The smile on his face fades and he cocks his head to the side slightly.
“That will be all, Miss Potts.”
She turns on her heel and grabs her clutch and makes it all the way to the door before his voice stops her.
Pausing, hand on the glass and she watches his reflection in it, the opening and closing of his mouth. Another pause and she braces herself, ridiculously hopeful for reasons she can’t explain. He shakes his head at the last moment and turns back towards the bar to pour himself another drink.
“Good night, Miss Potts.”
Pepper sighs softly. “Good night, Mr. Stark.”
Days Like These
Pairing: Tony/Pepper, mentions of Pepper/OMC
Length: 4,000
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: 'fic' tag
Why this must be read:
Because this piece has a wonderful Pepper point of view on her relationship with Tony and why they won't take the next step and become something more, at least for now. Their dynamic is perfectly displayed in this story, and is a definite must read for fans of the pairing.
“Fuck, Pepper. That hurts.”
Pepper pauses, q-tip poised above her boss’s eyebrow as she arches her own. “I’ve had worse cuts than this from shaving, Mr. Stark. Stop being a baby.”
“I wasn’t being a baby.”
“Oh, really?”
“I was just merely… commenting on your sudden abrasive technique when it comes to playing Florence Nightingale.”
A dry chuckle, and she presses deeper into the cut than she means to. “Florence Nightingale? You’re writing a fascinating version of history here.”
Tony winces and glares out of the corner of his eye. “You’re right. You are much hotter.”
Pepper smirks. “Good to know.”
“And you wear stilettos better than, let’s face it, half the fuckin’ female population and,” he stops talking abruptly, leaning back to look at her fully, eyes roaming over her from head to toe. His eyes shoot up to hers and she blushes in spite of herself. “Whoa, whoa, whoa you were not wearing that earlier.”
“Pity the person who tries to get things past you, Mr. Stark.”
“Potts,” he says, lazy grin in place as he leans back in his chair. “You look… good.”
Pepper refuses to look him in the eye because the thing about Tony is, well, he’s hot. And she’s a woman, she can admit that freely, so when he says things like that, it does something to her insides that it shouldn’t, can’t and when Pepper replies with a cool, “I know,” smirk in place, the blush imbedded into her skin betrays her.
If Tony notices, he doesn’t comment.
They’ve gotten very good at this – this avoidance, this constant progression and regression of one step forward, five steps back
“You didn’t have to get all dressed up to come over and take care of little ‘ole me, you know. Not that I’m complaining because your legs in that dress look,” his eyes meet hers and he clears his throat, pausing.“Really, really long. Long. I was going to say Long. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
She smirks and moves onto the next cut. There was a fight against a missile of some sort (and Pepper keeps moving and moving because jesus, a missile and there are some things she just can’t get used to) and his body is covered in a million different tiny little cuts and bruises.
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
“I had a date.”
“A date?”
“You knew this.”
He thinks about it for a second. “I did?”
“Remember when I came down and told you that I was leaving because I had plans, and you said, and I quote, okay, Potts, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and I replied that well, that wouldn’t be much, but I’ll sure try my damnedest and you smiled that insufferable little smile and then I left?”
Tony looks at her a beat longer than usual and he’s trying his hardest not to let that corner of his mouth twitch upwards. Naturally, she cracks first, her own lifting up just slightly.
“You remember all that?”
“You pay me to remember things, Mr. Stark.”
“I pay you to remember my smile?” He grins cheekily, looking awfully pleased with himself. Pepper rolls her eyes. “Are we going to have a heartfelt moment here when you tell me I have five smiles or some bullshit like that and you tell me that you find me completely and utterly irresistible.”
“In your dreams.”
Tony grins and it’s all teeth. “Naturally,” he says, and then after a moment, “So, you like my smile.”
“That is not what I said.”
“You really did. It’s okay, you can admit it. I’m cool with that. Would it make you feel better if I told you that I liked yours, too? Even the playing field a little bit?”
Pepper sighs, long and suffering and knows better, so she just lets it go. They fall into a silence and she reaches for a mini band-aide, opening it with nimble fingers and placing it on top of the gash near his brow. She’s on auto-pilot almost, fingers smoothing the ridges of the plastic out perfectly. The feel of his skin under her finger tips, warm and soft, the sight of his body covered in bruises barely gets to her anymore.
They do this a lot.
“There,” she says, taking a step backwards. He hops off the chair and saunters over to the wet bar to pour himself a scotch. She reaches for her coat.
“So,” he begins after a thick swallow, waving a hand in-between them.“How was it?”
“It?”
Another swallow. “Your date.”
She tries not smile at the acridness dripping off the words. “It was nice.”
“Just nice? For that dress I sure as hell hope it was better than nice.”
“Oh-kay, it was better than nice.”
“That’s good.”
A tiny smile plays at the corner of her lips. He sounds jealous and her skin tingles with satisfaction.
“Thank you.”
“You deserve better than nice,” he says. “That’s all I’m saying.”
They stare at each other again, distance and silence between them, and there’s that look again, wistful almost, and it’s probably the wine from dinner, but she swears it’s almost as if Tony is looking right through her.
It unnerves her. She’s the first to look away.
(This, too, inevitably, they do a lot.)
“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” she asks, grasping for familiar ground as she idly plays with a button on her coat.
The smile on his face fades and he cocks his head to the side slightly.
“That will be all, Miss Potts.”
She turns on her heel and grabs her clutch and makes it all the way to the door before his voice stops her.
Pausing, hand on the glass and she watches his reflection in it, the opening and closing of his mouth. Another pause and she braces herself, ridiculously hopeful for reasons she can’t explain. He shakes his head at the last moment and turns back towards the bar to pour himself another drink.
“Good night, Miss Potts.”
Pepper sighs softly. “Good night, Mr. Stark.”
Days Like These