Work Text:
They don’t talk about that night.
It happened years ago when they were still Mr Stark and Miss Potts. It was something which at the time seemed to be one of Tony’s drunken whims; something to be forgotten immediately and never spoken of again.
Except now it seems they might have to talk about it.
“I can’t believe you have that thing in your pocket,” Pepper quips to try and calm the rapid beating of her heart.
She needs to come up with something to announce to the waiting media throng, and thinking about Tony wanting to propose to her in front of everyone — not to mention him having the ring since 2008 — is not helping her improvisational skills. She pushes aside her boyfriend’s antics and flicks through the database in her mind, recounting recent meetings and projects, trying to decide on something important enough to tell the press. Intellicrops and the Expo re-relaunch have already been announced, and they’re still debating whether or not to make arc reactor technology publicly available. Pepper takes a deep breath and smiles at reporters on her way towards the podium, trying to act like everything is normal, while internally panicking as she comes up blank on what to tell them.
Tony, thankfully, is being his usual charming self, making quips to get the crowd laughing as he catches up to her. She feels his hand slip around her waist and she glances at him, seeing his worried frown. She wants to tell him that she’s got a plan like he’s come to expect from her, but right now she’s got nothing. She leans into his touch to halt her growing freak out and almost wishes a supervillain would crash the compound right now.
Ideally she would like to cancel the press conference entirely but she can’t afford another blow to Stark Industries’ — and by extension, her own — reputation. After Ultron and the public fracturing of The Avengers original team, their every move is being scrutinised. She somewhat hates that Stark Industries is so intricately linked to the superheroes’ actions, and wishes she wasn’t always working to clean up their messes.
“What are you going to tell them?” he murmurs as they come to a stop before the podium.
“I don’t know,” she hisses, turning towards him and trying to make it look like this is all planned.
“You sure you don’t want me to get down on one knee?” he jokes and she feels her heart flip, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“No, absolutely not,” she says, turning to smile apologetically at the crowd.
“Pep—”
“Tony, I’ll figure this out,” she says, despite the fact that she still does not have any idea what she is going to announce to the press. She reminds herself that she has thrived on fixing Tony’s messes for almost two decades now, and takes a deep breath, hoping that something will come to her in the next minute.
“You always have a solution,” he says and before she can stop him, he kisses her quickly, and steps to the side.
The surrounding noise gets louder at that and Pepper turns to the crowd, blushing slightly. Tony knows she hates being the centre of attention — at least she hopes he does. God, she hopes he really was kidding about a public proposal. His idea of grand romantic gestures is wildly off-base from her own preferences but she’s clearly too blinded by love to care when it comes to him.
“Thank you Tony,” she says dryly as she steps up to the podium, eliciting a laugh from the press.
At least his public kiss will generate them some headlines if she can’t manage to think of a solution like Tony so faithfully believes. She takes a deep breath, still flicking through her recent meetings to try and come up with something, and then it clicks. A solution. She could kiss Tony again for his choice of words. It will take some tweaking, a little more force than she would like, there’s still some tape to cut through, some documents to sign, but — yes she has a solution.
“And thank you all for coming upstate at such short notice,” she says, addressing the press now. She hopes that they won’t question why she is about to announce a Stark Industries project from the Avengers Facility. The two are already so related in the public eye, she might as well make use of it.
Pepper reaches up to brush her bangs out of her eyes, feeling the words sliding into place. She knows exactly what to say and how to say it in order to make it sound like a pre-planned announcement and not some hasty cover up for a disappearing teenager. Her department heads and the board are about to have a field day but she’ll smooth them over — if all went to plan, this would be something she’d be announcing early next year anyway.
“As you may remember, four years ago Stark Industries made a somewhat strange purchase. We bought every Okle Cola vending machine in Africa. To refresh your memory,”—there’s a loud laugh from Tony behind her—“that is approximately 35 million vending machines.”
The murmuring starts in the crowd again and she wishes she had a visual presentation to go with this speech. If she was delivering it in six months time then it would be much better than it is, so she hopes her words will be enough. If not, then maybe she might have to let Tony go ahead with his public proposal.
“Ms. Potts! Are you really selling soda now?”
“No. And don’t worry, I’m not about to announce the shutdown of any major SI divisions,” she says, finding herself relaxing into the impromptu speech with every moment and relishing the crowd’s laughter. “I’m here to announce the launch of Stark Solutions, the humanitarian arm of Stark Industries.”
“Stark Solutions will take these vending machines — where even in the most remote areas there is one dispenser per 35 people — and very soon, instead of selling soda they’re going to freely distribute vaccines — including our newly-acquired HIV vaccine. In essence, we’re turning heart attack dispensers into medicine cabinets.”
The room is silent for a moment as they process her announcement before erupting into loud applause and excited cheers. She thanks everyone again and steps down from the podium before they can question her any further. There is a lot of work she needs to do on this to make it happen sooner rather than later, and she needs to get started. Stark Solutions has been her pet project ever since she became CEO — something which has unfortunately taken a back burner to other branches of their company over the years. Though all the paperwork isn’t quite sorted out, she’s sure she can make it work.
“Wow, Pep, great speech, but, uh, I didn’t know Stark Solutions was ready yet?” Tony asks as they leave the press room and enter the foyer, trailed by Pepper’s assistant.
“It’s not,” she says, grimacing at all the work ahead of her. “Which is why I need to fly back to LA right now—”
“What? You’re not staying? Don’t you think we should discuss—”
“I need to make this airtight. We cannot afford another drop in our stocks right now so I need to go meet with the team—” Pepper takes her cell phone from her assistant and starts sending off texts as they walk through the compound.
“Our stocks have survived worse—”
“I’m not letting this fail. This is my baby—”
“I thought Stark Tower was your baby—”
Pepper stops walking to face Tony, noticing her assistant has wisely stayed back to give them some space. She sighs, wondering how this evolved into an argument as always. She and Tony are still putting their relationship back together, she doesn’t want to slip into their old habits of fighting when work stress is high.
“Stark Solutions is the one project that I developed myself over the last five years. Stark Tower is arc-powered and that technology is always going to be linked to you; and Intellicrops and the Expo started with your initiatives. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I get to have one thing that I made…” she trails off, not wanting to get into a frustrated rant about how she doesn't yet have one large project as CEO that has truly been her own. She doesn't want to use the word legacy because she knows how that makes Tony feel, but it would be apt.
“Right, I get it—” he says, glancing away from her and she feels guilt bubbling up inside her.
“Tony—”
“No. You should go to LA, work on the project. I’ll, uh, stay here with Happy. Take your time.”
Like we need time.
Pepper knows he’s still thinking about what transpired before the press conference, and she does want to discuss it with him in more detail, but that would mean unpacking the thoughts from where she’s pushed them into a box in her mind. She’s way too stressed out about the additional work she’s made for herself to consider his proposal right now, but then one look at his disheartened expression makes her soften.
They’re still finding the balance between their jobs and all of the issues that they’ve had in the past, and she doesn’t want to make him think she’s giving up on him. She regrets their break earlier this year and wishes she had been there for him when his team fell apart, rather than just during the aftermath. The second she had heard about Rhodey’s injury she had been on a plane, and it didn’t take long for her and Tony to reconcile.
“Changed my mind. I’m using the conference room. Give me four hours,” she says, smiling when he immediately lights up.
“You got it, baby,” he replies, and she pulls him in for another kiss before walking off towards the conference room.
It’s the day before the anniversary of his parents’ deaths when Pepper finds Tony drunk for the first time since Afghanistan. He’s had such a laser-precise focus on destroying his stolen weapons that Pepper had hoped he might possibly forget the date this year, but based on the way he’s drinking scotch from the bottle that’s not likely. She hasn’t seen him since she brought his lunch down six hours ago and she assumed he had been working on the Iron Man suit. She’s been busy working on the dissolution of their remaining military contracts and she regrets not coming to check on him sooner.
“Tony?” she asks softly, carefully stepping towards her boss over what appears to be the broken glass from another bottle of scotch.
“Hmm? Oh, Pepper, hey,” he slurs, pushing himself upright on the workshop couch.
“Hi, Tony…” she says carefully, never quite knowing how to behave on this day of the year. “I was thinking of ordering a pizza, do you want some?”
“Do I want some? Hmm… yeah I do,” he nods, looking up at her.
“What kind do you want?” she asks, trying to keep the conversation light.
“The redhead kind,” he replies. He’s staring at her so intensely it’s like he’s looking right into her soul. She feels her heart flip at the strength of his gaze and shoves her treacherous, stupid fantasies down deep inside her.
“I meant the pizza.”
“What pizza?” he frowns, swaying where he sits.
“I’m ordering pizza. For dinner. What do you want?” Pepper sighs, wishing she could take away the pain that makes him need to get this drunk.
“You,” he says, still staring at her intensely, and she hates the part of herself that wishes he means it.
“I’ll get you a Supreme pizza,” she replies, turning to take out her phone and order it when he grabs her hand.
“Wait, no, you can't leave. I haven't— we haven't—”
“We haven't what, Tony?” she asks calmly, trying to ignore the way his thumb is stroking the back of her hand.
“I don't wanna waste my life, Pep, and you— you're— my mom and dad— I want what they had— they made it work, and Yinsen said—”
“Who’s Yinsen?” Pepper asks but Tony plows on, dropping the bottle of scotch onto the couch beside him to start searching in his pockets. The alcohol spills out onto the couch and Pepper wrinkles up her nose, wondering if she’ll ever be able to convince Tony to replace his beloved dirty workshop couch.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Pep, wasted a lot of time but I know what I want now and”—Tony is digging something out of his shirt pocket—“it’s you.”
“Huh?” She feels dizzy trying to keep track of his drunken ramblings.
“Marry me?” he asks, pulling out a huge diamond engagement ring.
Pepper swears her heart stops and she gapes at him in shock, wondering how much exactly he’s had to drink and whether or not he’s taken any other substances. He is her boss — her playboy boss — and surely this can’t be anything other than a dumb prank. He’s probably got one of his robots filming it right now. Except he’s also staring at her very seriously, and a tiny, hopeful part of her thinks he might possibly mean it. How he came to the conclusion that they should get married when they aren’t even dating is a question for another time.
“Tony, I— what? Where did you get that?” she asks, unsure of what else to say. They aren’t a couple regardless of what her fantasies would make her believe, and this is so unlike him. The man has been allergic to the concept of dating for as long as she's known him.
“I got it made. Custom. For you,” he says, waving the ring around and almost dropping it.
“Tony, you’re my boss—”
“So?” he cocks his head to the side and she really, stupidly wants to kiss him despite the way he’s drunk and sitting on an alcohol-soaked couch. She’s remembering their almost-kiss at the gala, and his quips about needing a girlfriend, and she feels overwhelmed and lightheaded.
“So…” It takes her a moment to think of arguments against this with the way he’s smiling at her. “So, it’s wildly inappropriate and we’re not— this is a huge— we can’t possibly—”
“You’re overthinking it, Pepper,” he slurs, shaking his head. “We would be good together. We would be so good— I can’t waste my— don’t let me waste any more time—”
Tony doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because he’s suddenly vomiting all over Pepper’s expensive high heels and she’s jumping back with a yelp.
“Tony?” she asks as he groans and slumps to the side into the puddle of scotch. She grimaces and steps out of her heels, trying not to think too hard about the vomit covering her feet as she closes the distance between them. Giving Tony a gentle shake only elicits another groan and she frowns worriedly. “Jarvis, get Happy!”
By the time she’s cleaned up the vomit and Happy has carried an unconscious Tony up to bed, his drunken proposal feels like a dream. She decides to stay in one of the guest bedrooms and spends the entire night trying to make sense of her boss’ actions. She doesn't dare think too hard about her own response, and how she wasn't even able to think of a solid reason to say no.
In the end it doesn't matter because in the morning Tony wakes up with no recollection of the incident, the ring is nowhere to be found, and they don't speak of it again.
“You owe Rhodey a suit upgrade,” Pepper announces as she enters Tony's living room in the new Avengers compound. He's sitting on the couch, suit jacket draped on the armrest beside him, and is doodling on his tablet. He looks tense, his hair messed up and his tie askew, and she hopes that's not because of her.
“I do, do I?” he quips.
“Mmhmm. I had to use his favour with the President”—God bless Rhodey for saving the President from Killian three years ago—”to finalise our contracts, but Stark Solutions is a go.”
“And it only took you three and a half hours. That's my girl,” Tony says but he’s still looking down at his tablet.
She sighs, needing to fix the mess she created earlier. She hates that their relationship often has to take a backburner to their other duties. It’s something they’re working on, and she doesn’t like that she had to essentially put him and an important milestone in their relationship on hold for the last few hours. She reminds herself that now that Stark Solutions is sorted out she can give him her full attention — and, oh, how she wants to.
She steps out of her heels and walks over towards Tony, glancing around to ensure they're alone — you never know when a rogue Avenger will appear — before sitting sideways in his lap. He looks up in surprise and she smiles at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He puts his tablet down and places his hands on her hips, holding her possessively. He's been putting on a strong face lately but she knows he's still feeling insecure after the mess with his old team.
“Your girl,” she replies, cheekily raising an eyebrow at him.
“My, er, woma— no, that's worse. Hmm. My CEO who I am incredibly proud of—”
“That's not what I meant,” she says before he can panic that he's said something wrong. “I only thought you'd have a… stronger word in mind. One starting with the letter ‘f’ perhaps?”
It takes Tony a moment; she feels his hands freeze on her hips, and then his whole demeanour changes. All the last bits of tension drain out of him and his lips stretch into a wide grin. She feels butterflies in her stomach when she looks at him and she loves that he still makes her feel this way after so many years.
“I thought you weren't interest—”
“I only hate the idea of a public proposal, Tony,” she explains, running her fingers through his hair gently and feeling her heart start to race. “I know you've got that ring on you… Ask me.”
“Right now?” he says, still grinning widely, and she finds she's matching him with an equally huge grin.
“There's no time like the present,” she says breathlessly.
“Really? ‘Cause I thought I'd maybe wait another eight years,” he jokes and the smile lines around his eyes that she loves so much make an appearance. She giggles and shakes her head at his antics, and feels him take his hand off her waist to reach into his shirt pocket.
She can't help but think back to the time this happened eight years ago. She thought he drunkenly blacked that night out but it seems he does remember it. She wonders if he’s also comparing the differences — this time he's sober, he’s not her boss, it's not a shock, and she's hopelessly in love with him. Well, she was in love with him back then too, she just couldn't admit it.
“Pepper Potts. Will you marry me?” he asks, holding up the ring, and even though she knew it was coming, the sight makes her eyes well up.
“Yes, God, yes,” she says, too overwhelmed with love to worry about being a cliché.
She leans in to kiss him, wanting to pour all of her heart and soul into this kiss, wanting to make sure he knows how completely devoted she is to him, how much she truly wants to spend the rest of her life with him. The few months they were on a break were painful and she doesn’t ever want to experience that again. They may always have their small issues but she knows that after all this time together they can make it work. His hands are tight around her back and she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, giggling slightly when the enormity of the situation crashes over her. They’re engaged.
They pull apart after a while to catch their breath and smile at each other stupidly, foreheads pressed together. She runs her hand along his jaw, stroking his goatee and feeling tears running down her cheeks. Tony laughs happily and reaches up to brush the tears away, leaning back so that he can properly look at her. He’s still holding onto the ring and they both suddenly have the same thought; she guides her hand towards his so he can slip the ring onto her finger. It’s a gorgeous diamond in a beautiful cathedral setting — large but not ridiculously so — and it’s absolutely her style. She bites her lip, trying not to cry any more as she looks at it on her finger and thinks about how he bought this for her all those years ago.
“Has Happy really been carrying this around since 2008?” she asks.
“Yep. Well, not 24/7, but, uh, any time I thought it might be pertinent—”
“Wait… You weren't really going to propose in front of the media were you?” she asks, wiping away her happy tears and continuing to admire the beautiful ring on her finger.
“Er… it was a possibility,” he says with a wince and she shakes her head.
“Well… I guess that shows how madly in love with you I am because I still would have said yes.”
“Good. I don’t think I could handle rejection a second time,” he quips but there’s still a darkness behind his eyes.
“Did you really mean it back then?” she whispers, remembering how she entertained the fantasy for a while afterwards. She wonders what would have happened had they gotten together while she was still his PA, before the palladium poisoning, before she realised how she couldn’t bear to live without him.
“Yes. It’s you, Pepper, it’s always been you. I only realised it when I was in the cave… and it’s taken me a few years to iron out the kinks… but we’re good now, right?” he asks, his eyes darting between hers, and she nods emphatically.
“We’re good. We’re more than good…” she allows a seductive smile to creep across her face as she lets her voice drop into a familiar flirty tone. “And, Mr Stark, I do believe I just accomplished six months of work in three hours…”
“I like how you think, Miss Potts.”