Re: Tony & Pepper
He'd made reservations? Pepper had made reservations since the day she had walked into his office with his own (admittedly rare) poor calculations. Every number for every restaurant in Manhattan and Malibu were programmed into her phone, and she had a relationship (that usually involved being sent vast and overdramatic displays of flowers the night after Tony had been photographed either in or outside their establishment, name-checked in the tag line) with every maitre'd in town. When finding and purchasing the green dress with a vague panicked memory of the last fifteen models Tony had been photographed with, she'd had an idea that perhaps dinner would be exactly that: pizza eaten off grease-pooling cardboard over spare parts with a backdrop of classic rock.
Pepper was not an arbitrary woman. She liked things because she liked them: she preferred classic to showy, she liked understated and timeless over awe-striking, she picked out big purchases the way someone might select a pension plan or a mortgage. There was little, therefore in terms of expectation on the table beyond the simplest; that the Avengers were not joining them for dinner and that some form of dinner would be therefore provided.
"Exclusive?" She slid into the seat with the kind of grace that was all having learned to exit cars and enter them under the barrage of cameras that was accompanying Tony anywhere, and smiled, one eyebrow notched politely upward. She suspected JARVIS.