3443/Before the Party...

Before the Party...
Date of Scene:	20 December 2017
Location:	Stark Tower, New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Pepper Potts, Iron Man

---

Pepper Potts has posed:
Everything was a rush. This party had been, in her opinion, planned QUITE last minute. There were many exasperated sighs, little glares, and panicked phone calls while she ensured the musical acts he'd want there were actually present. So, it's not until 8 pm that she's even leaving the office. No time to go home, change and come back. He said it was fine. He said he ordered her a dress anyway. Slightly dreading what that dress might BE, she's got no choice but to go with it. So, once more, she's taking the lift up to the Penthouse, using her voice and thumb print recognition just to let herself in, and is a woman on a mission.

"...Alright. Show me this dress. It better be decent, and I need to use your shower." She calls across the room, already moving a bit like a hurricane. She's a stressful tornado of a mess and feels like there is utterly not enough time. Tony knows this look in her. It's moving a thousand miles an hour, pulse a mile a minute, trying to get everything done.

Iron Man has posed:
The penthouse is cleaned of all the issues from the night before last, and well lit. There does appear to be a long, metallic and shiny blue side-zip garment bag laying out on the back of the couch, though if it's for her, or him, hard to know just by glancing at it. It could very well just me his tuxedo, or it could be the item specifically for her. The door to the bedroom is barely ajar, and grants little clue as to where he is exactly.

"Mr. Stark is still using it," JARVIS helpfully lets her know, around the time she comes blazing across the room, in response to the shower usage. "Would you like me to suggest he finish rapidly?" JARVIS queries of her, as if suspecting she might be fine to 'suggest' that on her own.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Oh, I think I can manage that. Thank you, JARVIS. And if this dress he's ordered for me covers less than half of my body, put in an emergency re-order on the red and black Prada Christmas release from the runway in London last week. Someone has got to have it in this city." With that command, Pepper kicks off her high heels at the edge of the foyer and stalks her way across the rest of the pent house, straight into Tony's bedroom, and past the bed. She's not messing around tonight.

"Tony. You have two minutes to finish in the shower so I can get in there, and there BETTER be hot water left. You said I could get ready here and I JUST left the office and I feel like I'm running late already!" THe fact that she even doubts the hot water when they are in Stark Tower shows just how crazy her mind is running right now.

Iron Man has posed:
Wait. The water's off. It went off between the time just after JARVIS informed her that Tony was still in the shower, and the time it took the tirade to be given while she stalked around the penthouse.

JARVIS was quiet, other than making agreeable notes such as "Of course," to her requirement about the re-order.

And so, there's a long fifteen seconds or so of her getting to glare at the shower door, before it's suddenly open and Tony blinks at her, since she's RIGHT there. And with both brows raised due to her extreme warpath, steps aside with one arm extended in a clear 'go ahead' into the foggy, massive bathroom.

Tony has neatly shaved any stubble, and though his hair is wet, clearly is preparing to be ready for his party quite soon. There's a cling of cologne to him, freshly applied, that will tumble over her.

Also, he is just in a towel. So there's that. And zero shame about that, of course. "Pepper," Tony says, simply, excessively calmly, as if trying to not set off an explosion. "Please breathe."

Pepper Potts has posed:
No water? Pepper's brows furrow for a heartbeat or two, head tilting to the side, about to turn away because she knows she's treading dangerously close to seeing her boss naked. But then it's too late! The door is open with a breath of steam and cologne rolling out. Then Tony is just... There. Muscled, mostly naked other than that towel, still slightly damp and glistening. Pepper Potts pauses, all of her hundred miles and hour thought screeching to a hault as she blinks at him once. Twice.

"...Boss." She finally stammers out, heart caught in her throat as she now forces her eyes down and away. She really shouldn't be staring and is trying to ignore the heat that firmly creeps up her cheeks now. "...Ah... yes. I'm breathing. It's fine. I just... I should shower. It's been a long day. I... I'll be out... In a few minutes..." She half stammers, her mind still having partially short circuited. She then pulls off her suit jacket and skirt, leaving her just in that silk slip she was wearing beneath. It still covers more than his towel. "...Just a few minutes..." And she dances around him to walk towards the shower.

Iron Man has posed:
Tony watches her, of course. Because he's entirely shameless about the whole thing. He turns some as she moves past him, to continue to face her. Because she's undressing right in front of him, and that isn't a show he's particularly inclined to turn away from. His eyes cruise over her legs. Besides, in all fairness, he's wearing far less, right?

The most out-of-ordinary thing of his appearane is, naturally, the glowing arc reactor. If she can look at muscle and ignore that item for the medical device that it technically is, that is... interesting, really.

"Breathe," Tony repeats again, with a sleek rogue's smile. He doesn't leave right away, he moves to the sink to rescue some rings he had taken off, putting them back on. But he can see her just fine in the mirror. He's being a bit obnoxious, and his smile reveals it's entirely on purpose.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Of course, Pepper had assumed that he was actually going to vacate the massive master bathroom, so she could finish changing and actually get into the shower. Apparently, that is not the case. "I *am* breathing, Tony. Trust me, half this party wouldn't be organized if I wasn't. But it's a bit hard to shower when your boss is standing right there..." Pepper states in her normal dead pan, slightly sarcastic tone that she uses when she's trying to be all business but he's being incredibly frustrating.

Then time wins out over modesty. The shower stall itself was still steamed up enough to hide most everything, so she steps into the shower stall and pulls it shut, peeling out of slip, stockings and her matching ivory lace bra and underwear. All those things are tossed over the shower door, leaving just the hint of her frame behind heavily fogged glass which, when she turns the water on a moment later, is just going to get foggier. But she is right there and quite naked, clearly. "We did get the Foo Fighters, by the way. I don't know if anyone knows who they are any more, but they were on Saturday Night Live this week."

Iron Man has posed:
Tony doesn't push her, or overly spy on her, or anything of that nature, particularly when she reminds him about the 'boss' thing. He did look at the objects that were flung out, and... consider the shower door a little bit, from the sink area. "I know who they are, that's more what counts," Tony chuckles, indifferent: he can have whatever he wants at his own party, naturally. He sounds a bit distracted. Certainly not by the awareness of the nude woman in his shower.

"Use my robe if you like when you're done, on the hook to your right," Tony calls to her over the shower noise. She'll sense the air move a bit and the light change a little as he lets himself out, shutting the door, giving her that privacy ... if rather belatedly.

Pepper Potts has posed:
A small, actual breath is released as he offers use of his robe and then gives her some privacy. Well, that was a step in the right direction. Pepper is quite feminine, but not ridiculously so. She doesn't have time for a 45 minute shower and, well, it wasn't like she had a date to this party so why bother touching up shaving the legs? On second thought, who knew what that dress was like, so she borrows his razor because beggars cannot be choosers, which means she's not done for about 15 minutes, but eventually the sound of the water does die down.

Out of the shower, she quickly wraps her hair up in a towel and grabs that robe against the shiver of the cooler air beyond. A brief pause to look in the mirror, then grabs her underthings before, and she's stepping out into his master bedroom, "...Alright. Show me this dress. Please tell me you got stockings to go with it and shoes?" She asks with a nervous sort of smile.

Iron Man has posed:
With that amount of time Tony has made significant progress on his own attire. He's completely clothed, save for the tuxedo jacket itself. He is in crisp deep black tuxedo pants, perfectly fitted and slightly snug as is his preference, shoes impossibly shiny and sleek, black shirt, a deep violet and black vest that has a holiday vibe with a mild hint of a slight silvery accent through the fabric. The tie is the same violet sheen. He is adjusting his tie when she emerges. He is handsome in the dark tones, hair still somewhat needing a bit of attention, but the fluffed front to it is charmingly messy.

"Of course," Tony answers, pausing, with a sort of scoff in his tone, as he tweaks the tie at his neck, head lifted due to the tie adjusting. "I wouldn't embarrass you." A pause. "Okay, I would," he admits. "But not /too/ badly. Wouldn't want anyone to think YOUR shit wasn't together, or the whole thing collapses." He gestures to the navy suit bag from the couch -- that was the one for her, clearly expecting her to snare it and retreat. He's acting indifferent about it, but he does slide a glance back to watch her over his shoulder.

Pepper Potts has posed:
With some skeptical silence, Pepper picks her way across the room towards the navy garment back. Nothing is said. She simply leans over and unzips the thing slowly, careful not to snag any fabric. Her pale green eyes flicker between him and bag. This is the moment of truth.

Iron Man has posed:
The first impression is a lovely frosted blue of the sheer fabric, a delicate feminine tone. It is more blue than gray, perhaps, but just enough gray to come out of blue. It is clearly very long, it will brush over the tops of her feet and against heels, with a billowy drape that flutters already even as it's pulled free. The front is cut in a low V over a less sheer fabric of frost silver-blue below it, two draped sections running from each shoulder to meet in the center; these feed into the long soft flow of the lower dress. But while it is low cut, there is a gentle lace there at bust, petals of an inspired snowflake, there as well as on the upper shoulders. These snowflakes of lace cover much of the back, down into the low waist. It reveals, yet the lace winks with snowflakes, some of them scattered with hints of very subtle sparkle.

There are shoes as well, they don't match exactly, they are more of the silver tone, clearly intentionally bringing the lace's spark out. Tony watches her sideways with a smile, anticipating a positive reaction with calm confidence.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Still just in his oversized robe, towel in her hair, Pepper gently draws out the diaphanous, pale blue and silver gown from the garment bag. She's speechless for just a few heartbeats, blinking in quiet shock as she looks across the beautiful, almost too-delicate material. No snarky comments, no rolling her eyes. In fact, though she'd blame it on the steam from the shower, her eyes look slightly glassy with unspent moisture. She's both shocked and touched. "...Tony... it..." Pepper breathes out, lips slightly hovering on the edge of words she cannot find. He's actually left her speechless.

She reaches her other hand up to touch at the fabric, "...It's... beautiful. It's perfect. How... who... did you pick this out?" She blinks from the dress, back to his dashing frame, then to the dress again.

Iron Man has posed:
Tony clears his throat, about three or four times maybe, in his signal of his style of awkwardness. Since, well, she's his assistant. And while he expected (wanted?) a great reaction, he wasn't counting quite on his reaction to HER ... rather pure and genuine reaction. He masks some of it with turning away to get his tuxedo coat-- but then pauses at the mirror, setting it back down to attend to fixing his hair, picking up product from the side of the table to adjust into a slightly more deliberate style of rakish.

"Your faith in me is unparalleled, as always," Tony kids her. Evidently he DID pick it. "I wouldn't wear the hair-towel with it, though," he advises. He has a weird urge to escape, that he can't quite define. Like getting out before something goes terribly wrong: leave on a high?

He passes by her back to the bathroom to wash his hands, acting, of course, like the whole thing is no big deal.

Pepper Potts has posed:
His brushing past her towards the bathroom is just enough to shake her out of the moment that she can start her body moving again. They were still short on time. But Pepper Potts was truly stunned into speechlessness and just stopping, breathing for a few moments. "I...I'm just going to...change in the guest room. I've got some... some extra make up in there. I'll remember to take off the towel, I promise." She turns to go, but then pauses, actually reaching out to grab his elbow for just a heartbeat.

"You... did really well, Tony. It's the most beautiful dress I've seen in... ages. Thank you." She whispers, nothing but pure sentiment and odd heart ache in her voice. How could he be so good, sometimes? And so idiotic others? She gives his arm one last squeeze before turning to go and disappearing down the hall so she can actually change.

Iron Man has posed:
"It's just a dress," Tony says offhandedly, as if reading her mind that he needed to be an idiot, and downplay the importance of him doing something properly.

"It's the woman in it that makes it," he finishes, snaring his coat with one of his bright public smiles.

"I'm headed down, use either room all you like," he calls after her. He adjusts the coat, fixing the edges of his collar carefully. He preens a little in front of the mirror, a few smiles of different wattages as if deciding what face he'll wear downstairs, or perhaps reacting to his well-fitting tux, checking down the lines and fit of it in approval. And then will head down to host.