Pepper/Bruce B: quick log Stark Tower Who: Pepper P & Bruce B What: Tiny people make for easier babysitting. When: Friday morning.
The crisp staccato of impossibly high heels from the elevator heralded Pepper's arrival before she appeared into view. There was a brown paper bag hitched in one arm with the name of an expensive and organic company discreetly printed on the side and another in the other that looked suspiciously like it contained something from a regular supermarket. Pepper sailed into the kitchen on a tide of efficiency and a faint scent of something restrained and ridiculously expensive, perfect white suit and lipstick intact.
"Two-year-olds," she said, setting both paper bags down on the counter-top and moving through Bruce's kitchen with the ruthless speed of someone very accustomed to moving in and out of other people's spaces with the maximum of efficiency and the least amount of interference, unwrapping things and unfolding them, "Eat chicken-fingers. So I am told. I got chicken fingers and I also got the regular kind of chicken you can tell came from an actual chicken." She held out a package of individual small cartons of raisins. "And this seemed more appropriate than candy. How are you doing?"