1528/Home sweet home

Home sweet home
Date of Scene:	17 July 2017
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Iron Man, Pepper Potts

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Iron Man has posed:
New York, the city that never sleeps, is still abuzz with activity hours after the sun has set. And the view from Stark Tower never disappoints. Vehicles stuck in a long line of traffic that has reached its usual gridlock. The noise of the street, however, becomes silenced thanks to the penthouse's unusual features.

From up here, the only noise in the room is the quiet tinkle of ice and liquor being swirled in a glass.

Tony stands in front of the window, staring out at the horizon rather than the world below. Still dressed in a grey suit, with one hand in his pocket and the other coiled around his glass of liquor, there's a strange peace about him. And the moment.

Until loud music from the early 2000s blasts through the speakers. Tony tugs a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and slides them over his eyes.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Pepper still maintained her own condo on the upper east side, a good bit away from Stark Towers, but she didn't often use it. Long ago, when she was working another night past 1 am, Tony had offered her the guest bedroom of the Penthouse any time she needed it. Purely a business relationship, of course, but it let her be on call a bit more often, work later nights when necessary, and have somewhere to pass out if she tucked him in bed drunk with some other woman. So, that had been the plan tonight.

Pepper was in the office until well after 10 pm and, after a brief debate with herself, just took the elevator upstairs instead of bothering with a cab home. She's carrying her spike Jimmy Choos in her right hand and her briefcase in her left, white suit jacket unbuttoned around her slender frame and the look of the headache forming behind her eyes already in her gaze. It only gets worse as she slips through the door and hears that music.

"God... Tony, couldn't you at least have something from *this* decade?" She calls over, half laughing and half wincing as she pads her way into the room.

Iron Man has posed:
The voice that interrupts the music is met with a sharp turn of Tony's head and an all-too-charming, far-too-easy smile. "I'll play it when they make music that's any good," the familiar tone has a spark of amusement. "Wait. That one band -- the one with the short kid -- the ginger -- they're not bad." His free hand rocks uncertainly in the air in a clear display of comic uncertainty.

He lifts the drink in the air and shakes it lightly in a clear offering. "Drink?" mischief laces the question. But even before Pepper has the opportunity to respond, Tony walks towards the bar. "Burning the midnight oil?" his smile turns lopsided. "You know what they say." Whatever it is seems left to Pepper's imagination.

Pepper Potts has posed:
The small show that she is actually more comfortable around him than simply being his assistant is the fact that she keeps her shoes off. In fact, she tosses them aside, in a small pile in the foyer, to be picked up in the morning. He's seemingly alone, so she will not have to play bouncer come tomorrow and that lets her relax by inches. She's pulling off her suitcoat a heartbeat later, leaving her in custom fitted white slacks and a pale blue silk camisole beneath. Her long, soft arms are bare as well as most of her decollatage.

"That drinking after 10 pm on a work night is a sure what to get a hang over? Especially when one of us has a call at 8 am with China. I assume I'm taking that for you." Pepper states, full mouth pulling into just a bit of a smirk as she reaches up to steal his drink out of his hand for just a heartbeat. "Perhaps a sip. Consider it a meeting fee." And she does steal a sip directly from his glass before passing it back.

Iron Man has posed:
The sunglasses are indolently tugged from his nose, and then used as a sort of pointer with each syllable he utters, "Not the saying I was going for." The glasses become abandoned to the bar, forgotten like most of Tony's toys when given the opportunity. "I meant all work and no play makes Pepper a killjoy." He brings his glasses to his lips. "I mean, I've heard people say it. Not me, clearly," he plasters that charming smile across his face once again, relying solely on the ease of his manners and general countenance to leave the saying cute rather than wholly offensive.

"And yes, it would be incredibly assisting if you could take that call. I think that's what assistants do," he notes as she takes his drink and elects for a sip. "Just for that, when this one is done, I'm going to have another."

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Or, you know, you could actually get on the line with the Chinese government who arranged this appointment late in the day enough that you could actually take it, for once. I'm just saying. As we're talking about sayings..." Pepper teases him lightly, no real annoyance in her voice right now. She needs to pick and choose her battles carefully and this is not her hill to die on for the moment. She does step across to the wet bar, though, and grab at one of the bottles of seltzer. She oould have something to drink at least, if not booze.

Once the bottle is cracked open, she heads to the leather couch, plopping all lanky limbs into it in a motion that reveals through the cracks just how tired she actually is. Only for a moment, but she looks utterly exhausted. THen she tucks it away, folds her legs up beneath her, and takes a long drink of the fizzing water before she starts, "And one of us has to be a killjoy or this company wouldn't keep running."

Iron Man has posed:
"Pffft, let them eat cake! I've heard turned out well for Marie Antoinette," the gleam of mischief never leaves Tony's eye as he tops up his glass with a bottle of brandy. He shrugs his shoulders and strides to the couch, but doesn't sit down, electing to resume his guard of the window. "China doesn't need to talk to me. They'd rather talk to you anyways, they just don't know it yet."

His chin drops slightly, allowing him to take in parts of the world below. "And," he snap-points towards Pepper, "you're right. You're much better wired to be company killjoy." Tony casts her a highly noncommittal one-shouldered shrug. "Leaves a person wondering why." He takes a long drink, finishing off the contents of the glass.

Pepper Potts has posed:
There had been a small part of her that almost wished he was out with someone tonight. Pepper is tired, still has figures running through her head, and now an 8 am call. Which means up at six. Which is in far less than 8 hours. BUt, for the moment, she sits on the couch, chatting carelessly with him. Like she's gotten used to that company at the end of the day. Maybe she almost missed his banter. She takes another sip of her water, almost finishing it off. "I'm much better wired to be an executive, Tony... but I'll keep making you look good. It's what I do." She's only half teasing. THe Acting-CEO thing had been a surprise those months back.

Then, a yawn does finally take her, her body reminding her of the sleep she desperately needs, even if her mind doesn't want to take it. She unfolds from the couch but a few minutes after she sat, beginning to head towards the guest room hallway. "I'm...going to crash here tonight, if the offer is still open. I'll be quiet in the morning, I promise. But getting some sleep is wise. You should try it, some time."

Iron Man has posed:
Tony's expression bombers at the notion of being better wired as an executive. The silence suggests agreement, even if it's never uttered. The glass is left to the edge of the window sill and Tony turns to face her, granting Pepper a small nod. "The offer's open. Always open." He sniffs and rubs his nose before allowing his hands to retreat into his jacket pockets. A self-deprecating smile replaces his charming one when he notes, "No rest for the wicked." His lips purse into something far more satisfied, and, for a moment, he wishes he'd kept the sunglasses with him to act as a shield against any thoughts that may temporarily play on his features.

Ironically, the distracted desire to have a shield almost covers any need for it in the first place. His eyes turn towards the bunker. "Got work to do," he almost sounds amused at the thought. "Things to build." His jaw tightens. "Trials to run. Jarvis and I have been working on something big," there's a cheshire quality to his smile at the thought. "We shouldn't be too loud. Probably. Things get pretty muffled from the bunker to the bedroom." Pause. "You know what -- you might want to sleep in my room tonight. I'll take the spare. My room is farther from the bunker. And the noise. Also probably safer on that side of the apartment."

Pepper Potts has posed:
"...Your...room? I couldn't..." Pepper starts. But then he's commenting about how it might be safer. She blinks, head slightly tilting, before giving him a bit of a shrug. "If...if you are sure. If you end up wanting to crawl it later, well...the bed is big enough. I won't wake up, I promise." Pepper gives him one last, almost shy smile, trying not to think about the fact that she just accepted an invitation to her boss' bed. A lonely bed, tonight, but it was still a weird level if intimacy. But she agreed.

So, with that, and one last look to his handsome features, the strawberry blonde turns down the hallway and disappears into his bedroom. Within five minutes, the shower can be heard running, probably sending all sorts of other thoughts about. But Pepper will be dead sleep in 30 minutes, tucked into the corner of his bed, trying not to enjoy the fact that it smells like him.