InsaneJournal

Who: Pepper and Tony
What: Catching up the morning after this and this text to Steve.
When: (backdated) Saturday morning.
Rating/Warning: Green, which also is a side effect of Tony's cooking.

What use was having a well appointed kitchen, if you never used it?

That was what Tony was thinking to himself, while using a dish towel to fan smoke up toward the vent over the stove. When one towel didn't work, he grabbed another and started flapping two of them around at the same time.

Behind him, the sink was running cold water on three charred black pans and a bowl full of botched batter that he thought tasted 'gritty.' He didn't know what he put in that batch to make it gritty, but he was wearing some of it, mostly splattered down the front of his t-shirt and boxers.

"Shit," he said, still flapping in the hopes the fire alarms wouldn't go off. "I got this."

Considering he had spent the last two hours trying to make blueberry pancakes for Pepper, it was safe to say he didn't have it, whatever it was. What he did have, was the attention span of a gnat when it came to anything that didn't have a circuit board or a holographic display. It is the reason it took him three hours to make eggs on the flight following the Monaco fiasco.

There were two (and a very clumpy half) charbroiled pancakes on a plate, and those broiled parts were covered with an 'artfully arranged' pile of blueberries. There was a sprig of what he hoped was mint atop that pile of blueberries, so it would look fancy.

Finally, the smoke cleared enough that he could make attempt number four. There might even be enough blueberries left for one more batch, if he could stop eating them.

Pepper woke slowly, vaguely aware that something was different. She stretched, feeling deliciously languid, and smiled as she remembered.

Tony.

Tony was here, they were… if not back, together, they were something, and she could live with that. At some point they had relocated to the master bedroom, continuing their quest to make up for lost time. By the way Tony had acted, she was reasonably sure he hadn’t been with anyone else in the meantime. He’d been rather busy being injured and imprisoned and all, but she’d seen him make rather impressive efforts in the past, before they were together.

She hadn’t been with anyone else (the odd Asgardian flirtation aside) because no one could compare with Tony. He had her, heart, body and soul and he always would.

Even if he was currently trying to destroy the kitchen, she realized as the smells percolated through the penthouse. She didn’t hear the smoke alarms yet so maybe it wasn’t critical. She resisted the urge to rush into the kitchen to investigate. He probably thought he was being stealthy. She settled for sitting up in bed and wrapping a silky robe around herself, and waiting to see what Tony had wrought. And trying to eat it.

From the kitchen could be heard, "Ha! I'm the Iron Chef, too." Obviously something went right. And, like Tony was fond of saying, you have to break a lot of eggs to make an omelette. He never claimed that wasn't a messy process.

After five more minutes - spent fixing coffee and cleaning himself up - Tony peeked in through the doorway, holding a tray for breakfast in bed. Voila!

"You're awake. Surprise!" He smiled instantly when he saw she was awake. He padded over on bare feet, putting the tray down and then holding his hand down like he was presenting a major award. "I know you said you don't like omelettes. And you're allergic to strawberries...I remember stuff! So here it is. Blueberry pancakes with extra blueberries. With coffee and tea. Because if you don't want one, I'll take the other."

There was one perfectly complete pancake, on top of a mountain of of blueberries and (what we hope) is a mint sprig. The other two and a half were hidden underneath that mess.

Pepper braced herself for whatever, and smiled. It was the thought that counted. “Smells… great!” she managed, sitting up more and trying to keep herself from making grabby hands at the coffee. She’d been around Tony too long. “Thanks, honey. Are you going to share with me?” She hoped Tony would eat most of it. At least the blueberries looked good…

She patted the bed beside her, trying not to wince at the state of his clothes.

Those clothes were clean...ish. Mostly. He spent a minute picking off some batter, followed by scrubbing himself off with a tea towel. He did scowl down at his t-shirt to make sure it was mostly off, before scooting in next to her.

"Yep! First bite's yours," a very proud Tony was saying, while watching her expectantly. "Dig in, baby. I made it for you."

What a lucky woman she was, to have the Iron Chef Man.

Pepper was no stranger to Tony inflicting his cooking on her. Why he thought he was a good cook was beyond her, because she had certainly never given him any indication other than trying his attempts.

But a few bites of food she didn’t like was a small price to pay for a happy Tony. So she picked up the fork and cut a small bite (heavy on the berries). She put it in her mouth and chewed gingerly, aware of Tony’s watchful gaze.

Well. She didn’t know what it was, but the food currently in her mouth was not pancake. No pancake she’d ever tasted anyway. It looked like a pancake, but that was where the resemblance ended. It tasted more like a cross between a potato and rice pudding, with a similar consistency. She swallowed, hoping her expression was even, and said, “Wow! That’s interesting!” She took a big swig of coffee, even though it burned her mouth. Hopefully it would kill some taste buds.

He looked overjoyed. In fact, he looked overjoyed up until the point that he grabbed the other fork on the tray and took a bite of his own. Then he sat there chewing for a moment, seeming as though he was contemplating several very important philosophical matters while doing complex mathematics. There was a hard gulping sound as he forced himself to swallow.

"Yeah, you really do love me if you ate that," he said, putting the fork down and taking the cup of tea, so he could get the taste out of his mouth. "I'll watch a different youtube video next time."

That implied that there would be a next time, where he hoped to showcase his cooking skills. The universe was not a merciful place.

He put the cup down and leaned in to kiss the side of her face, before murmuring, "Good morning, Pep."

“Good morning, Tony,” Pepper replied, thankfully setting the place aside after picking off another blueberry. “There are some croissants in the fridge. And some brie and grapes.” She smiled behind the cup of coffee. “You know. In case you’re still hungry.”

She couldn’t help but beam at Tony, though. He was trying so hard and she appreciated it. Enough that she would have another bite of the “pancakes” if she had to. Only if she had to though.

"On it," Tony said, leaning over her to take the tray and ditch the evidence of his latest cooking attempt. Iron Chef Man? Not so much. He sure could blow up a kitchen, though. And no way was he going to torture her with another bite of pudding pancake.

After hightailing it to the kitchen and loading up the tray with everything she mentioned - plus more coffee for himself - Tony entered the bedroom again and set the tray, and himself, down next to her.

"All better," he exclaimed, and he hoped it was. Better. As much as possible. "Actual breakfast in bed. And no floral unicorns anywhere nearby."

Pepper had finished most of her coffee and couldn’t stop smiling. “I did keep the champagne. It’s in the fridge. For later.” She hoped Tony was staying. For a while. For forever. She picked up a croissant and took a delicate bite. So much better.

She leaned over and kissed Tony once more. Because he deserved it.

He let that kiss linger for as long as possible. There was no telling how long such good fortune would hold out. It seemed like it was never long enough, so he was going to absorb every moment for as long as possible.

When it did end, he sat back while saying, "I knew you'd like the champagne. I think the plan was that I'd roll in there with it, so you could laugh at me. I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near Valentine's Day. Sorry, honey. I fucked up. All over the place."

Pepper reached out quickly and put her finger over Tony’s lips. “Shhh,” she said. “You don’t have to apologize. I probably would have thought it was funny. It was just… unfortunate.” When she was sure Tony was silent--for a moment--she removed his fingers and continued, “I know you meant well, Tony.” He always did. Except when he didn’t.

That was the problem, and he knew it. He was left staring at her with the sort of uncharacteristic silence that meant he really was going to say something profound or that could shatter this moment to pieces.

"I think I need to apologize." He scrunched up his nose and shook his head, looking away. "Not for the unicorn. For pushing you away, and thinking it was better. You're right, you know. I should've talked to you. About everything."

Pepper nodded. “Yes, you should have.” She stroked a hand through his hair, brushing a bit of flour out of it. “But I know you’re going to try harder next time.” And there would be a next time. There always was with Tony.

But she had asked herself whether she was happier with no Tony, and no Tony drama. And she wasn’t. Drama came as a package deal with Tony Stark. She had to accept that and learn to live with it.

She would. If he wanted her to. She would try. Because life without Tony was… too quiet.

"I sure will." He grinned at her and nuzzled his head against her hand while she was brushing at his hair. "And you know, it's ok for you to say you've had enough and need a breather. I think we might need breaks. Not break ups. Not running to other people. I don't want other people, and I don't want to hurt you with what I'm doing. Just...mutual decompression time. In case I start to get too much for you. Because I know I do."

He put a lot of thought into these things when he woke up, after several hours of restful sleep. Instead of sneaking out of bed to work on things in another room, he preferred to stay by her side. At least until dawn, when he could sneak away without tripping over anything.

“As long as you promise to be honest about whatever it is you’re going off to fight. No matter how weird. I need to know, Tony. You promise?” Pepper thought somehow that if she knew what Tony was up to she could handle it better. She snuggled closer to Tony. They had time to make up for.

"I promise," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "And there's probably a ton of stuff about the network and the people on it, and what's happened after it started up. Stuff I haven't talked to you about. Like the stuff with Barnes, or Cap, or Rumlow. Or any of it."

Never about Bucky and Steve's relationship. That was a secret he was going to keep. It was more everything that he had been trying to handle it himself, or as much as he could. Even after it turned into an avalanche of things getting worse by the second.

"Pepper, I didn't want to unload on you too much. I love when we bicker about stuff. It's like foreplay. But I know you're busy trying to run a global conglomerate. And I don't want you to worry because I'm flying off to fight Mothra. Or whatever. I don't even know yet. Mothra could be next week."

Pepper sighed. She did that a lot around Tony. “Okay, Tony. You don’t have to tell me every little thing.” He did tend to go into excruciating detail about the minutiae of suit design and that was one thing she didn’t much care about. Not that she would tell him. She’d developed the ability to filter things out when Tony was feeling expansive, which was often. He wasn’t as expansive about the important things, though. “How about you just let me know when your life might be in danger? Just to start?” Not that she could do anything about it. She just wanted to know.

"Promise I'll always send you a text," he confirmed, sealing the deal by kissing her on the cheek. He worried about what she'd do if he didn't come back someday, but that was also the price of relentlessly pushing himself forward in the hopes of making everything better. And to make himself better in the process. It wasn't working out too well yet, but he was stubbornly optimistic that someday? It would.

"Is there anything you wanna know," Tony asked, picking up a grape and holding it out like he meant to feed it to her. "Ask me anything. Open book. Get a peek while you can. Before everything shit tanks on us, and I'm off scrambling to keep up again."

Because that was inevitable. At least he knew now to text her about it and try to make sense.

Considering she didn’t know what all Tony hadn’t told her, that wasn’t an easy question. But when Tony mentioned something in an offhand way, that usually meant something important. “Okay. Wait. You mentioned Rumlow. Wasn’t he a HYDRA agent? Not to mention dead?” She’d get to the other ones later.

She knew all sorts of people were popping up and it was a problem. She wanted to gauge how big a problem.

Tony popped a grape into his mouth and shrugged. Leave it to Pepper to try to make order out of chaos.

"Yep. The guy that tried to blow up Cap is here. Here's the thing. I don't know how the hell he managed to crawl out of the grave or not, but I know Cap doesn't seem too happy about it. I'm not happy about it. Barnes seems surprisingly ok with it because Rumlow was a buddy when Barnes didn't have any buddies, because Hydra brainwashing was a thing."

He exhaled abruptly and dropped his arm from around her shoulders, so that he could tear a croissant into bite size pieces. He was still close to Pepper, their shoulders were pressed together. It didn't seem as though he wanted to lose a single precious moment of contact.

"Anyway. I tried talking to Barnes to back away from the zombie, which was awkward. Because parents. And I hired Jones to follow Rumlow, to see if he's a threat or not. Guess not. Because he showed up at the jailbreak and took a bullet meant for Clint, when we were getting shot at. Why don't you tell me what you noticed, before you got all blotto?"

He made a scrunchy face like he was having trouble making sense of it all while he squished some brie into the bread. Maybe telling Pep might clarify things some more, since she had contact with Rumlow outside of a combat scenario.

Pepper’s mouth dropped open. “That was the same guy? I… I didn’t make the connection. Oh my god.” She covered her mouth. She’d been passed out drunk in the same apartment as a formerly dead, murderous HYDRA agent? “He seemed harmless. Mostly just watched TV while Jess and I talked.” She shook her head. “She seemed to trust him. I got the impression they were sleeping together. Oh my god,” she repeated.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tony tried to say around a mouthful of brie and croissant. He put an arm around her again and rubbed her shoulder, trying to calm her. He managed to swallow that down before he started talking. He didn't want to say it while spraying it.

"I haven't heard from Jones yet. It's ok, Pepper. If he would've laid a finger on you, I would have got my busted ass to a suit come hell or high water, and then we'd have to see if this timeline would shit him back out a third time. But he didn't. So maybe that says...something."

He didn't know what that something was.

“No, you don’t understand, Tony. This is the guy who tried to kill Steve! He killed himself trying to kill him. That’s how crazy he is. Was. Oh my god.” Her hand was over her mouth now as she tried to stave off a post-panic attack. The fact that Rumlow had done nothing bad to her, and in fact had barely gotten off the couch, tried to percolate into her brain. No matter how many super-strong and super-everything people Tony hung out with, she was still surprised by it sometimes.

"Ok, no more this," he said, putting the tray aside on the bedside table, and turning so he could place both hands on her shoulders and look her in the eyes.

"This is weird right now," Tony was saying, "because usually it's you doing this for me. Honey? Breathe. I know what a full on freak out is like, and you look like me when I'm about to have one."

He wasn't too sure what else to say, so he went ahead and said what he was thinking. Which could be a good or a bad thing, and occasionally, both things at the same time.

"He didn't hurt you. I'm not sure what the hell Jones was thinking by luring you into drinking with them, other than giving me a middle finger. But that's beside the point. You're safe now. Maybe he's not...crazy anymore. I dunno. But I wouldn't ever let anything happen to you if I know I can stop it. Broke up or not broke up. I promise. Ok?"

He smiled at her, hoping it was enough to try to calm her down. He didn't know if she was on the verge of a Monaco style meltdown or not. If she was, then they'd get through it. Without news broadcasts and badly cooked eggs afterward.

No comment on the pancakes.

Pepper nodded jerkily, looking back into Tony’s eyes. Usually they were crazy eyes, but right now they were everything she needed, calming pools of dark brown. “Okay,” she repeated. “It’s just. Tony. Oh god.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m okay. Sorry about that.”

She hadn’t had a panic attack like that for a while, and it wasn’t a fun thing. She focused on Tony. “Sorry. You don’t need this. I’ll be fine in a minute.” Things kept running through her mind, though, and that was hard to shut off. Tony could have died. She could have died. Tony could have died so many times.

"Hey, it'll be fine." He smiled at her and let out a small nervous chuckle, before wrapping both arms around her and hugging her close. "You know what? We both need to have a freak out every once in a while. You need this. I got you."

He turned his head to press a kiss against her ear, then rested his chin down on her shoulder. There were a lot of other things to talk about, but those things could wait.

Slowly, Pepper’s breathing evened out. She had a hundred more questions but she was afraid she wouldn’t like the answers to them. She clung to Tony, drinking in his warmth. Tony always felt so warm.

“Any other murderers come back from the dead I should know about?” she asked against his skin.

"Not yet," Tony replied, without a second of hesitation. "Not as far as I know. Only Rumlow and that mind control guy named Kilgrave, that I want you to stay far, far away from. And not talk about. Pretty sure that Jones, Trish Talk, and the wizard are on that guy. And I'm going to help, too."

Even when he felt Pepper relax, Tony kept holding on anyway. He wasn't going to be the first one to let go. That was always Pep's job, to say when, and pull away when she was ready.

Pepper stiffened again. “Kilgrave? Jessica’s ex? He’s back too?” He remembered what Jess had told her but he’d gotten the impression he was dead.

"Yep. The universe spit him back out, too," Tony said, rubbing his hands over her upper arms, to keep her relaxed. Or he hoped. Because they might need some mutual relaxation rubbing going on at the mere thought of the walking dead being a reality. "Apparently dead things don't stay dead. Fun times."

Pepper shook her head. “I don’t like this, Tony. I don’t like it at all. Why can’t things go back to how they were? Before aliens and superheroes and and….” She buried her face in Tony’s neck again, taking big gulping breaths to stay calm.

She hated feeling out of control like this. She needed to be calm and pulled together. For Tony. She was Tony’s rock. His normalcy.

"I don't like it either. And sure, there's a few things that I wish I could do different or change. Can't recommend waking up in a cave with my chest hooked up to a car battery. But if I hadn't gone through that super shitty situation? I would've never gotten the suit, and never got the kick in the ass I needed to kiss you. Or build a tower with you. Or any of the other stuff we've done, together. I don't regret any of that."

Tony was already holding Pepper again, one hand rubbing a slow circle on her upper back in an effort to calm her. Because as much as he relied on her, he wanted to be there for her when she needed it most, too.

"Could've done without the murder bots. I mean, that's not my best moment," Tony added. "Please tell me I'm making this better? I'm trying to not make it worse."

Pepper couldn’t help it. Tony made her laugh. She huffed out a breathless laugh and realized that, somehow, she was smiling. The absurdity of their lives was just plain funny.

“Yeah. The murder bots were not really a high point,” she giggled. She knew she was slightly hysterical but she felt like she was getting a handle on things. She felt more like herself. Because if she couldn’t laugh, what could she do? “Let’s not have any more of those.”

She hugged tony more tightly. “You always make it better, Tony. Well, except when you make it worse. But right now it’s better.”

"Refraining from murder bots," he promised, with a smile. "Not even sexy murder bots."

Tony squeezed her tight for a moment, not willing to break that contact at all. Because he knew he couldn't stay there with her and would have to go back into hiding again, so he was getting his Pepper fix while he could.

"It'll be ok, Pep. This'll blow over and we'll be back to our regularly scheduled craziness in no time."

“Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.” Pepper sniffled, feeling a little more like herself. She wasn’t naive enough to think all this wouldn’t happen again. It would. It was Tony. He should come with warning labels.

And she knew this was another calm before a storm. But she was going to enjoy it as long as she could. “I think maybe we should move on to mimosas.”

Nothing was normal with them. He wanted to think that it might be, someday, but in the meantime? Even he wouldn't debate that there should be warning labels stuck all over his person, enough that he resembled a mummy. That might make a great Halloween costume.

He kissed the side of her face and rubbed her back one last time, before pulling away.

"On it. Anything else you want? Like more coffee, more tea...more me?" He raised an eyebrow while smiling, backing off the edge of the bed for another kitchen run. "You know you want more me. Celebrity fugitive. C'mon, that's irresistible. I'm gonna rob a bank later. You in?"

Pepper couldn’t help but giggle. “Mmm. Mimosas and you. I always want more you.” She let the silky robe slide partially off her shoulder. “But mimosas first. Hurry.” She couldn’t help smiling at Tony’s antics. She was certainly never bored around him. She also loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

"Yes ma'am."

He was staring at her bare shoulder like that was an open invitation he was going to immediately RSVP to. If there was one thing they had in common, it was mutual attraction and loving one another to the point where it hurt. When it was good, it was great. When it wasn't, it was nothing but pain and a whole lot of it.

Tony went scramble running for the kitchen to get those drinks. That included the sound of crashing glass and some f bombs dropping, before he eventually came back with those mimosas. He would've leaped into the bed if it wouldn't send orange juice and champagne everywhere.

"Here you are," he said, sitting down next to her and holding one out to her. He held his own up to clink glasses in a toast. "You better tap this. Because I'm gonna dive right into you and not come up for air for a while."