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Dr. Virginia Potts first met Tony Stark when he came in S. Lee Memorial Hospital for an appendectomy.

He came in through the ER, his arm slung over a friend's shoulder as the latter helped him walk.

"Help!" Mr. Stark groaned. "I've been poisoned! Someone's trying to kill me!"

His friend rolled his eyes and hissed at him to shut up. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

Virginia watched from a nearby curtain as her interns helped the patient to a bed and immediately assessed his condition. She stayed back, only deciding to intervene if her ducklings needed her to.

"Sir, can you describe what you're feeling?" asked Lee, the intern with the most potential.

"He has stomach pains," the friend replied. "It's probably alcohol poisoning. He had too much to drink."

"There's never been a time where I've had too much to drink, Rhodey." Mr. Stark clutched the intern's arm and gravely said, "Someone is out to get me!"

"Yeah. Karma," replied Rhodey, pulling him back against the bed. Mr. Stark shot him an icy glare.

"Rhodes, this is a security threat! I have to get out of here!"

"No," Rhodey said, firmly pushing him back on the bed. "I know you hate hospitals but your ass is staying put." Rhodey then addressed the intern, "He drank too much, began experiencing stomach pains halfway through dinner, drank some more, and now we're here."

Mr. Stark glared at Rhodey while Perez, another intern, asked, "Where specifically does it hurt, Sir?"

Mr. Stark grumbled but pointed at his side. The intern then applied gentle pressure on the area.

Virginia continued observing from her corner as her interns tried ruling out possible diagnoses. From the look in their eyes, they were jumping from alcohol poisoning to possible liver failure and then…

"Sir, we're going to need to run some tests but it's possible you could have an inflamed appendix."

Bingo.

"Appendicitis? That's... That's surgery! That means I'm gonna stay here for... For two or three days!" Mr. Stark threw his head back and groaned while his friend patted him consolingly on the arm.

"That's usually how post-surgery recovery goes, Sir."

Mr. Stark began shaking his head. "No. Rhodey, get the car." Mr. Stark tried to swing his feet over the bed and groaned painfully when he couldn't do it. "I'm not getting cut open, potentially die, and then never leave this hospital!"

His friend sighed. "Look, man, I don't like seeing you like this either."

"Yes, you do."

"Okay, just a tiny bit. Like really tiny. But I'll be with you, alright? You'll be fine." Rhodey worriedly looked at the intern. "He will be fine, right?"

"We'll know as soon as we do a urine test."

Because Virginia's interns were still, well, interns, Virginia took Mr. Stark's case as the lead surgeon and had come to see him pre-surgery knowing from his behavior in the ER that this man disliked hospitals and wanted to assure him things would be fine.

When she entered his room, Mr. Stark had already been given pain medication and was much calmer than before. In fact, he hadn't once complained or asked his friend to go home while Virginia explained the procedure to them.

"Do you have any more questions?" Virginia asked when she was done.

Mr. Stark raised his hand. "Yes. You have such smaaaall hands," he drawled, alerting Virginia that maybe he had a little too much pain medication. He extended his own hands at hers and made grabby gestures. "Tiny. I'd looooove to have them wrapped around my—"

"You've said enough, Tones," Rhodey said, stepping closer to the hospital bed, color rising to the tips of his ears.

"—screwdriver," Mr. Stark continued like his friend never spoke. "My hand's too big to fit under the car sometimes. I can't reach certain places, but your hands are really something."

Virginia glanced at his friend who sent her an apologetic look. "It's the drugs," Virginia assured him. "I'm not offended, don't worry." She's had patients with tumors pressing down their lobes and saying more inappropriate comments than that.

Rhodey snorted. "Ohhh, with him, I always worry."

Mr. Stark took that moment to whisper loudly, "Rhodey, don't embarrass me in front of the small hands doctor! I'm gonna ask her to fix my car and I can't have her saying no."

Virginia pressed her lips together, trying to maintain a professional expression. Now that she was face to face with him, she saw that Mr. Stark wasn't an unattractive man by far. He sported a neatly trimmed goatee, had big brown eyes with lashes that Virginia would kill for, an attractive cocky smile that should be a turn-off (she hated arrogance) but was endearing because he was high and by default, hilariously honest.

Mr. Stark looked up at her through his lashes, his brown eyes wide and almost... vulnerable, if Virginia could describe him like that. Funny. He didn't seem vulnerable in the ER, but here in his private room, pumped up on morphine, he was like a three-year old as he batted his eyes at her and clasped his hands to his chest, asking, "Will you help me fix my car?"

"You don't have to answer that," Rhodey said to her.

"It's fine," Virginia said to him and went for a diplomatic answer. Mr. Stark wasn't going to remember this exchange anyway. "Ask me again when you're sober."

Mr. Stark's eyes widened at that. He slowly turned his head to Rhodey. "Did you hear that, Rhodes?" He whispered loudly again. "I have to survive this surgery, okay! I can't die!"

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark, appendectomies are routine procedures and my tiny hands are very good at what they do."

"But, just in case, could you give me a kiss for good luck?" He comically puckered his lips and this time Virginia couldn't stifle the amused snort that came out of her nose.

"Okay, big guy. Time to say goodbye to the doctor." Rhodey was still blushing but Mr. Stark barely noticed.

"Bye-eee," Mr. Stark sang.

Virginia operated on him an half an hour later and visited while he was still asleep. She explained to his friend that the surgery was a success, the appendix hadn't ruptured, and all was well.

"Thank you so much for tolerating him," said Rhodey who hadn't left his friend's side since. "I know he was really inappropriate—"

"He was, but it was the drugs talking."

"He's like that without the drugs too but a lot smugger and a little less cute."

Virginia remembered how Mr. Stark behaved in the ER and did not find Rhodey's statement all that surprising. She assured him with a smile, "I didn't take any offense, honestly. And just as a warning, he might still be a tad bit high on the pain meds when he wakes up."

"Will you be visiting again? 'Cause you know he'll ask."

"I will if post-surgery complications develop, but if not, my interns will be entertaining you." Virginia didn't have the time to romance her patients much less fix his car. Even if that patient was cute. "Let's hope for the latter."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Potts," Rhodey said, shaking her hand.

"Just doing my job, Mr. Rhodes."

Virginia didn't see Mr. Stark again after that, but she did hear some comments from her interns.

"He asked about you, Dr. Potts," said Lee, grinning from ear to ear. "Something about fixing his car? Ugh. I'd offer to fix it just so I can look at him longer. He's so hot."

Virginia was surprised. She didn't think he'd remember.

Perez cringed. "You do know he's a famous playboy, right? He's got like a different girl on his arm every week." For evidence, she lifted up her phone and showed them all Google images of him; not all of them were flattering. There was one of him blurred out because he was naked, and another of him with two bikini-clad women on either arm.

Virginia was suddenly glad she didn't take him up on his offer to "fix his car" or whatever that meant.

"I don't care. He's hot. He's rich. I'd marry him," said Lee.

"I don't care how hot he is. He's insufferable."

"I think he's annoying you on purpose so you'd discharge him earlier."

Two days later, Mr. Stark finally got his wish and was discharged. Virginia signed the papers and Mr. Stark slipped out of her mind; he was simply a name on Virginia's long history of patients.

A week later, Virginia was at the Nurses' Station doing post-op paperwork and chatting with Natasha. "You should really switch to Cardio. You're wasted on general. It isn't too late, Ginny."

Nat had already declared her specialty and was trying to get Virginia to join her in Cardiology.

Virginia's eyes didn't leave the page she was working on. "Cardio is just so limiting. A heart's a heart, Nat. But with general, I get to assist in all the surgeries."

Natasha snorted. "That's what all the General Surgeons say so that they don't feel bad about the fact that they're doing appendectomies everyday."

Virginia looked up and pointed her pen at her friend. "Hey!"

Natasha laughed at her reaction. "Cardio is more challenging. Ortho too! Even Neuro could use you."

Before Virginia could reply, the overhead PA System blasted, "Paging Dr. Potts to ER. Paging Dr. Potts to ER."

Slamming her paperwork shut, Virginia sent Natasha a smug smile. "See? I get in on most of the trauma cases too."

Nat laughed, rolling her eyes. "Five bucks says it's another appie," she called after Virginia.

"Deal!"

Virginia went down to the ER and headed to the Nurses Station. "You guys paged me?"

One of the nurses handed her a chart. Virginia skimmed it, frowning. It wasn't an appendectomy so she won that bet, but neither was this a case made for her talents. In fact, Virginia was quite overqualified for it. She told the nurse so. "This guy has a head wound and needs sutures. An intern could do this. Also, it says right here that he specifically said 'the intern doesn't touch the face. The plastic surgeon touches the face.'"

"We did send him someone from plastics, but he only wanted you. I told him you weren't even in Plastics and—"

Virginia looked at the chart again and located his name. "Anthony Stark? Why is that name familiar?"

"He's the owner of Stark Industries. The weapons company," explained the nurse.

"No, I don't think that's it. I've heard it somewhere else." Virginia stared at his name long and hard. She frowned, remembering something the nurse had said. "Wait, he asked for me specifically?"

"Yeah. He said he wanted the redheaded doctor with the small hands and had the same name as the Beauty and the Beast teapot. We figured that was you." The nurse looked at Virginia's hands. "Your hands are tiny."

Virginia gave the nurse a look causing her to snap back to attention. "Where is he?"

The nurse pointed to Consultation Room 7 and Virginia saw this Anthony Stark through the window. She relaxed a little when she remembered who he was and all that went through their last interaction, his compliments about her hands, the invitation to fix his car, the puckered lips.

She thanked the nurse and walked in the consultation room.

"It's a surprise to see you again, Mr. Stark!" The man still looked handsome despite the wound on his temple.

"Mrs. Potts!" he said, grinning. From the way he emphasized the word Mrs. Virginia had a feeling he was fishing for details on whether or not she was married.

She didn't let him in on that information. She wasn't going to be drawn in by this playboy. "Actually, it's Dr. Potts."

"I've been waiting a long time to see you, Dr...Mrs. Potts?" He raised a curious brow.

Virginia smiled, amused at how much effort he was taking. "Just Dr. Potts, Mr. Stark. May I see your head wound?"

He gestured at her to take a look and Virginia put on a pair of steril gloves and studied his temple. "There are some shards of glass. How did this happen?"

"Bar fight."

Virginia vaguely remembered him being drunk when he came in the ER the first time. "Are you drunk? Do I need to put an IV in you?"

"No. But the man who hit me with the beer bottle was."

"Why did he hit you?"

"Because I told him to lay off the women he was bothering." Mr. Stark hissed when Virginia touched a sensitive spot. "Don't worry. I'm fine. You should see the other guy."

"And where is the other guy?"

"Sporting a hangover in jail."

Virginia pulled her hand away, taking the gloves off and then took out a medical flashlight. "Can you follow the light for me, please?" Mr. Stark did as he was told. "Do you feel any headaches, any nausea, some double vision?"

He shook his head.

Virginia returned the flashlight to her breast pocket and said, "You know, you could've gotten the intern to patch you up, then you wouldn't have waited this long for me to see you."

Mr. Stark shook his head and insisted, "No interns."

"Or the plastics consult—"

"She wasn't you." He said this so seriously that Virginia wanted to tear her eyes away. Instead, she pushed down the warm feeling in her chest and said, "But why me?"

Mr. Stark shrugged as if the answer was all that simple. "'Cause you owe me one."

Virginia's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I owe you one?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "You said you'd go out on a date with me."

"I never said that!"

"Well, of course you never said that. I'm paraphrasing. I asked you to fix my car and you told me to ask you again when I'm sober." Virginia remembered that she did say that."Well, now, I'm sober and this is me asking and changing the conditions from please-fix-my-car to please-fix-my-head."

Virginia sighed. When she said that, she didn't think it would come back to bite her in the butt. "I'm going to get the glass out and suture the wound closed. I'll inject an anesthetic around the area so you won't feel it."

"Perfect! See? I knew you were worth the wait."

Virginia shook her head at his dramatics.

After she injected him with the anesthetic, she got a pair of tweezers and a small basin from a drawer and began to take the glass shards out. Mr. Stark sat very still, watching her silently, until he eyed her name tag and said, "So, your first name is Virginia, huh? Mine's Tony."

"I would say it's nice to see you again," said Virginia, "but that would be insensitive given your head wound."

"I don't mind. I think it's nice to see you again. Because, you know, you avoided me after you took out my appendix."

"I wasn't avoiding you," she said. She just didn't want to have to say no to him right after he survived a routine surgery. "I just didn't need to see you. I had other patients who did."

"Same thing. Did you know that I hate hospitals?"

"You may have mentioned that once or twice before."

"Yeah, well, I hate hospitals, but when the jerk hit me with the Heineken, my first thought was 'I need to go to the hospital and see Dr. Potts.' See, you've changed me! I'm a changed man! You're a good influence."

Virginia finally took out all the shards and began disinfecting the still open wound. "You have to give credit where credit is due, Mr. Stark. You conquered that fear all on your own. I had nothing to do with it."

"I never said I was scared of hospitals. I just hate them. There's a difference." He fell silent as Virginia began suturing. She could feel his eyes on her person; strangely enough, the heat of his gaze didn't feel disturbing or intrusive.

"May I ask you a question?" Mr. Stark finally decided to say.

Virginia weighed the pros and cons of humoring him. She concluded it wouldn't hurt to do so as long as the topic wasn't inappropriate for a doctor-patient conversation. "Shoot."

"What's in your other lab coat pocket?"

"What?"

"What's in your—"

"No, I heard you the first time, I'm just... That isn't a question I get asked often."

"Are you kidding?" Mr. Stark grinned like a child just discovered that he knew something an adult didn't. "That's like Mary Poppins' bag! You can fit a whole umbrella in there. And right now I can see a stethoscope, a pen, a notepad and that's just one pocket!"

Virginia laughed. So that's what he had been staring at. The things that went on this man's head.

"Well are you gonna answer it?"

Virginia didn't reply.

"What if I guess and you tell me if I'm right?"

Virginia pressed her lips together, considering. Playing this game would be less awkward than sowing him up in silence.

"Okay," she relented. "I have three things in my other pocket. You get three guesses."

Mr. Stark snapped his fingers. "Okay. First guess: condoms.

Virginia drew her head back, shook it, and gave him an incredulous look. "Why would I have condoms in my pocket?"

"I watch Grey's Anatomy, okay. Doctors have an active sex life," Mr. Stark said this with so much confidence that Virginia was almost convinced doctors did have an active sex life. "Unless you don't have condoms because you're not into men, then that's totally fine, but between you and me, I'm not getting a gay vibe and I have a pretty accurate gay-dar."

Virginia's mouth was agape. Did he actually just say all that? "First of all, Grey's Anatomy is inaccurate. Second of all, I barely have time to sleep. I'm not gonna spend what time I have on sex. Third of all, my sexual orientation is none of your business."

"Okay, sorry. You could've just said I was wrong."

"Fourth of all, you're wrong."

Mr. Stark winced but that was more from hurt pride than any physical pain. She smirked.

"First time for everything. Uhh, second guess: food! You gotta have a vending machine in there." He tried to peer down at her other pocket but she stopped him by grabbing the back of his head and making him look straight ahead so she could continue her sutures.

He grinned. "Well?"

"You're correct."

Mr. Stark pumped up a fist. "I knew it!"

"Not about the vending machine, but about the food. I always have candy with me. To give me the extra energy boost. Last guess?"

"Eyeglasses?"

Virginia laughed and shook her head. "I have 20-20 vision."

"So do I and up close, I can see all the flaws you don't have."

Virginia rolled her eyes but told herself that she walked right into that one. What did she expect from a sweet-talker, really?

"Fourth guess," Mr. Stark began again.

"Hey, I only gave you three."

"I'm on overachiever. Ask my teachers. Fourth guess: wallet."

"Nope. That's in my pants pocket. Yield?"

"Are you going to tell me if I do?"

Virginia took pity on him and said, "It's Pepper Spray."

Mr. Stark was rendered mute for a minute. And then, he said, "You're pulling my leg."

She sat straighter, sort of proud that she awed him into silence; that meant she won this game, right? "Nope. I'd show you but I can't get my gloves dirty."

"Pepper spray? What do you need Pepper Spray in a hospital for? Does it double as hand sanitizer?"

"No. It's for protection!" Virginia said in a tone that said that should've been obvious.

"You work in a hospital." Mr. Stark pointed out. "Unless Pepper Spray cures diseases, that's pretty useless in a hospital."

"Clearly you've never had to tell a violent drunk person to lie down on a bed so you could stick a needle in them."

Mr. Stark pointed at his wound. "I've told a violent drunk person to stop bothering a lady and her friends. Does that count?"

Virginia laughed. "See, you could've avoided all that if only you were packing Pepper Spray."

"I still don't get it. Why bother with Pepper Spray when you have sedatives for the unruly patients?"

"I do use those, but Pepper Spray is sort of like the first line of defense. I don't need to come near the patient and risk a black eye, and when they're busy covering their eyes, I inject the sedative in them."

"Wow." Mr. Stark fixed his gaze on her, eyes boring into hers.

Virginia shifted a little. "What?"

"You surprise me is all," he paused. Then, he grinned and she knew—she just knew at that point—that she was going to regret telling him about the Pepper Spray for the rest of her life. He opened his mouth and said, "Dr. Pepper."

"Oh, my God! Don't call me that." But she was smiling so of course Mr. Stark wasn't going to take her seriously

"You'll get used to it."

When the wound was finally closed, Virginia wrote down his prescription on a prescription pad and handed it to him.

Mr. Stark read the list. "Antibiotics and Pepper Spray. Nice."

Virginia reached for the spray in her pocket and showed it to him. "Ha."

Mr. Stark wagged the prescription at her. "You know what, I'll take you up on that Pepper Spray advice. Make sure every soldier's packing one."

She remembered he manufactured weapons for a living and knew that no matter how attractive he was or how many come-on lines he said to her, she would never be able to find herself in a relationship with someone who made money off of war.

Virginia saved lives for a living while his legacy was a body-count. He literally thinks of ways to efficiently kill people. She told herself he was protecting the country, that his weapons were used against the enemy… but doctors recognized no distinction in a war zone. She didn't hold it against him, though. It was his job and this was hers.

"If you could just wait here, I'll go get your bill." She picked up his chart and was about to exit the room when she was stopped by the doorway by his question, "Are you free tonight?"

Virginia clutched his chart to her chest, turned and said, "I don't date my patients."

"You don't? But in that one episode, Izzie even got engaged to Denny! But Denny died." Mr. Stark pouted. "What if I had died and you never had the chance to go out with me?"

Virginia scoffed. "Get over yourself."

"Fine. You don't date your patients, but technically, I won't be your patient anymore once I get out of here and pay my bills."

"It's still a 'no,' Mr. Stark." She had expected him to insist, to charm her into saying yes because wasn't he a playboy and wasn't that how they worked? But he nodded and accepted it gracefully. "Okay. I respect that. Thank you, Dr. Pepper."

She chuckled. "You're welcome."

…

"Whoa," said Natasha, coming to a stop in front of the Nurses Station where a five-feet high stack of Dr. Pepper cases waited. "Who saved the life of the CEO of Dr. Pepper?"

Virginia moved out from behind the stack and sighed. "I did. And it wasn't the CEO of Dr. Pepper. Just the CEO of Stark Industries." She handed Natasha the card that came along with the "gift basket."

Natasha read it and gave Virginia a look. "Do I even want to know why he calls you Dr. Pepper?"

Virginia shook her head. "Don't ask."

…

Everyone started calling her Dr. Pepper after that.

…

Pepper hated that he was right.

She did get used to it.

…

…

…

It was a freaking bloody mess in the ER and to top it all off, three ambulances just pulled up wheeling in more patients.

It was all hands on deck. Literally. Passing by Virginia, were five interns crowding a moving gurney as they tried to put pressure on a dozen different wounds so that they could reach the OR in time before the patient bled out.

Pepper had just gotten out of one consultation room to go the next as the latest patient was wheeled in, the paramedic rapidly saying the patient's status. "Tony Stark, 38, presented with symptoms of alcohol poisoning, hypothermic, lost consciousness en route…"

Pepper immediately stopped where she stood and stared as what could only be Tony Stark's slightly purple tinged face passed her by, the smell of vomit accompanying him. She watched them lift him and then transfer him to the bed, watched Natasha take over the situation.

"Sir, you're gonna have to step aside—"

"I'm his bodyguard! I'm not going anywhere!" barked a bulky looking man who was blocking most of the room surrounding the bed. He planted his feet firmly on the floor, squared his jaw, and glared Natasha down but she took his arm firmly and pinned it behind him. His face contorted in pain.

"Mr. Stark doesn't need a bodyguard in here. He needs a doctor. Now, get out of my way or I'll break your arm."

"Are you even a doctor?" he squeaked, bewildered at her strength.

"Yes. And I would much rather be saving your boss' life than doing this. Now, I'm gonna let go of you but I need you to stay back and let me do my job."

The bodyguard nodded and Natasha released his arm. "Does he have any allergies we should know about?"

The man shook his head, wringing his hands nervously. "He did say he wanted a Dr. Pepper, though."

"What?"

"Right before he passed out. He said something about Dr. Pepper, you know the soda."

"No, it wasn't the soda." Natasha turned to find Pepper but Pepper was already by the bed, taking over the intern.

"Is he gonna die?" Pepper heard the bodyguard ask.

"He's in good hands." Nat assured him.

…

They were in the waiting game now, waiting for Tony's blood alcohol concentration to go down, hoping he didn't fall into a coma. Somehow, between cutting his vomit stained clothes off of him and watching the intern put a catheter in him, Pepper had begun calling him Tony and not Mr. Stark in her head.

He was on an IV drip and was still out of it. His friend Rhodey had come to replace the bodyguard called Hogan and the former was now asleep on the couch while the latter had gone home to get some rest for the next shift.

Pepper didn't know why she was doing paperwork in Tony's room, why she sat in the chair beside his bed and monitored his BAC levels every so often.

She was in between signing discharge papers when she heard the softest of moans. "Mom."

Pepper quickly put her paperwork aside and hovered over Tony.

"Mom?" he asked again, blinking at her. He was still confused which wasn't at all surprising.

"No. Sorry. It's Pepper. Dr. Pepper."

"Pepper?" He blinked, eyes glassy. "What are you doing here? My car doesn't need fixing."

She chuckled and looked over to see Rhodey was still asleep. She kept her voice low in a whisper. "No, but you do. You're in the hospital, Tony. You drank so much. One more drink would have killed you."

Tony sighed and shook his head slowly. "That's not gonna happen. If I'm gonna die it'll be skydiving, driving through the Grand Canyon, maybe even during the best sex I've ever had. Not in a hospital."

Pepper sat back down, watching him with the softest of expressions. She had Googled him once, after he sent her the cases of Dr. Pepper. She watched videos about him, read news articles. Everybody said he was a genius, graduated young and top of his class. In summary, a rich and intelligent son-of-a-bitch but why was it that every time she saw him in person, had a conversation with him, he was stripped bare before her like this—vulnerable and frank, an open book for her to read.

Was his public persona only a mask he wore to hide whatever it was he was struggling with? And what was all this drinking for?

"I would never die here. Like, I'd crawl out to the parking lot and die there. That's how much I hate hospitals," he grumbled not unlike a child.

"I know," Pepper said.

"You wanna know why?"

"You don't need to tell m—"

"My parents died in a hospital."

"I'm so sorry."

"It was a car crash. They were still alive, but barely." He closed his eyes at the memory. "When I got to the hospital, they were gone. Now, every time I go to a hospital, all I know is the smell and memory of death."

He wasn't scared of hospitals, he said to her before. And Pepper knew now that he wasn't. He disliked the pain it reminded him of.

"But I met you," he said, opening his eyes and looking at her. Pepper froze, unable to look away. "Somehow, hospitals don't seem all that bad."

Finally, she tore her eyes away and looked down at her hands. "Why did you drink so much, Tony?" She looked up at him through her lashes. "What happened?"

"It's my mom's birthday today."

"Happy birthday to your mom."

He smiled. A dreamy smile. And then his eyes fluttered closed, sleep pulling him back down. "Thank you for not letting me die in a hospital."

…

The day Tony got discharged, Pepper sent him home with a case of Dr. Pepper.

"Are you returning the gift I sent you?" he asked, brow arched. His bodyguard stood beside him, silent but watchful. "I know I sent you a lot of Dr. Pepper but returning it is just bad manners. It hurts my feel—"

"Drink these instead of alcohol," she said, "And if you run out, I've still got like… two cases left in my house."

Tony turned away as he laughed. He looked at Hogan. "Can you believe this woman?"

Hogan only gave him a deadpan look.

Tony and Pepper shook hands. "Thanks for saving my life again, Doc."

"Not to be rude, but I hope I never see you here again, Mr. Stark."

"I can't make any promises, but I'll try."

…

Pepper didn't see Tony again after that which was a relief considering that every time she saw him at work, he was either bleeding, in pain, dying, or a combination of all three.

She thought he was maybe skydiving like he wanted… until she saw the news.

TONY STARK MISSING.

"Hey, put up the volume," she told one of the nurses who pointed the remote at the TV in the waiting area.

"In an official statement by Stark Industries' CFO Obadiah Stane," reported the news reporter, "it was revealed that Tony Stark, the CEO and owner of the multi-billion dollar weapons company, was kidnapped in Afghanistan. Mr. Stark was in the country for a weapons demonstration when his convoy was ambushed by terrorists and Mr. Stark abducted in the resulting chaos. The Military has sent out search parties but have yet to locate Mr. Stark or to apprehend the terrorist involved."

"Isn't that the Stark guy?"

"Yeah," Pepper whispered. So much for you promising to avoid dying.

…

Pepper followed the news after that. Even her interns were engrossed in the topic.

But days turned into weeks and then the weeks morphed into months but still the news was the same. Tony Stark was still missing.

He was most likely dying.

Who was she kidding? With his track record, he was probably dead.

At the back of her head, Pepper could hear his voice saying, I told you I wasn't going to die in a hospital.

Like dying at the hands of terrorists is an improvement, she mentally told the voice.

…

TONY STARK RESCUED.

…

They were all crowding in the waiting area again 'cause that was the only place with the TV aside from the patients' rooms but why would they go inside there? It seemed wrong, and also, they'd get in trouble.

"He looks good for someone who came out of three months of captivity," said Natasha. The last time Pepper saw him, he had just recovered from alcohol poisoning so, seeing him a little thinner and paler and moving was an improvement.

"What do you think he's going to announce?" asked Lee.

"Ten bucks says he'll declare war on Afghanistan," stated Perez.

"You can't just declare war on Afghanistan! He's not the president! And it wasn't like Afghanistan was involved in his kidnapping!"

"Right. He'll make more weapons to destroy the terrorists in Afghanistan."

"I think he's resigning and then moving to a beach with a hot chick."

"Ssh!" Pepper hissed because Tony had stood up now, going behind the podium.

"…is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International until such a time as…" whatever Tony said next was drowned out by the clamors of the reporters.

"The terrorists definitely got to him," said Natasha.

The two interns looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"If he's not making weapons for America, then he's making weapons for the enemy. I mean, come on. They probably tortured him and played mind games with him. I wonder if he's already had a psych consult."

They walked away chatting, leaving Pepper standing and thinking about what Natasha just said.

Would he really side with terrorists after what they did to him?

What did they do to him?

...

Tony Stark was in the ER.

But he wasn't bleeding.

Or dying.

Unless all the bleeding was internal which meant that Pepper needed an MRI for that or a CT scan to know for sure. But from the way he was smirking at her, Pepper had a feeling he was as healthy as a man like him could be.

So, why was he here?

He sauntered over to her, his bodyguard hovering behind him with a small briefcase in hand. "You miss me?"

Pepper stood right where she was, thinking of what to say. Her eyes roved all over his person, to his hair, his immaculately trimmed goatee, the small scar an inch beside his left eyebrow. "You better not be dying right now," slipped out of her mouth.

He laughed. "Even better. I'm alive."

She took two long strides and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank God!" She realized a little too late at what she just did and quickly took a step back, looking around them to see that the nurses and some of the doctors had stopped to look at them. "Sorry. Um, are you here for something medical related?" She forced her voice to sound professional and not relieved.

He scrunched up his face and angled his head slightly to the right. "Sort of. Can we talk somewhere privately?"

Pepper knew their audience was probably not helping him feel at ease, so she got them an empty consultation room. Hogan stayed outside but handed Tony the briefcase which he settled on a nearby chair.

Tony locked the doors and pulled down the blinds. Pepper crossed her arms, watching his somewhat paranoid behavior. "Okay. We're alone. What's up?"

Tony didn't reply but immediately started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" She came forward and pulled his shirt together. She wasn't a prude. She was a doctor for crying out loud, seeing a naked body sort of came with the job. But this was different. Was he out of his mind? "This isn't one of your TV shows!"

"This isn't what you think!" Tony swatted her hands away and continued unbuttoning his shirt. "I need your tiny hands to fix my—."

"I'm beginning to think 'fixing your car' is code for—" whatever she had to say next fell away and she stared transfixed at a glowing thing that was currently on Tony's chest.

He took his shirt off completely and tossed it aside. "Like I was saying, I need your tiny hands to fix my heart."

The switch back to doctor mode was instantaneous and Pepper immediately came forward, pushing Tony back against the examination table so she could analyze the object closer. It was circular in shape and it was cool to the touch despite it glowing and all. She'd thought it would be warm like an overused phone battery. It was completely lodged inside his chest, inside a… some kind of cylindrical tube.

The first thing she thought of was that Natasha was right. The terrorists got to him, did scientific experiments on him, then put this bomb in his chest and threatened to blow him up if he didn't do whatever they wanted and he came here to have it taken out. The second thing she thought was that this was like that episode in Grey's Anatomy where there was a bomb inside a man's body and it was going to blow up any second now. The third thing was that she needed to get Natasha in here. Cardio was her thing. And she also probably needed to call the bomb squad.

"What did the terrorists do to you?"

"What did I do to myself," Tony corrected her.

Pepper frowned, staring at him. "You did this?"

He nodded. "When I was ambushed, shrapnel got embedded in my chest. This is a miniature arc reactor that houses an electromagnet, stopping the shrapnel from working its way into my heart and killing me."

How he was not even wincing as he spoke, as his chest rose and fell, was a complete wonder to her. Was he numb to pain at this point?

"I have to get Natasha." She turned but he caught her hand, yanking her back. "No! No one else can know. Pepper, please. You're the only one I trust to help me."

"Do what? Take it out? Tony, even if I did, there's a gaping hole in your chest. I can't—I'm not qualified—"

"Relax. You're the most qualified person to do this."

Pepper glanced back at the closed door. "What about your bodyguard? This probably falls within his job description."

"Have you seen Hogan's hands? They're huge! Boxer's hands. I would ask my robots but their claws are a centimeter too big. There's only you, Dr. Pepper."

She sighed in defeat. "You still haven't told me what to do."

Tony moved to get the briefcase he left on the chair. Inside was another similar arc reactor. He raised it up and then hopped on the examination table, swinging his legs over as he lay down against the cold metal surface. "I need you to use your tiny hands to switch the old unit for this upgrade because there's an exposed wire that's causing it to short. Think of it as replacing a cellphone battery except that you have to do it in a matter of minutes."

"Or what?"

"I could go into cardiac arrest." Her eyes widened. "Which is no big deal," Tony added hastily. "I mean, cardiac arrest, pfft. Nothing you haven't handled before right?"

She wanted to hit him, but settled for a glare. She was a surgeon. She was all too used to working under pressure but at the same time this was nothing she was ever trained for. This was literally a foreign object lodged into his body. She was supposed to take foreign objects out, not exchange it for something else!

But she was also a doctor and damn it, she had to admit this was pretty cool and she would fangirl over this medical mystery if she had the time. But not now.

She took a deep breath. "Talk me through it."

He told her what she needed to do: reach into his chest socket, relieve the pressure on his myocardial nerve, and move the housing away from the heart.

Pepper put on a pair of sterile gloves even though he insisted she didn't need it, and then inserted her hand in his chest. She had done heart surgeries before but this wasn't like that. For one thing, this felt oddly sexual. She didn't know why and frankly, she didn't want to dwell too much on that at the moment.

She kept going deeper until she felt what she was looking for, some sort of latch release. She pressed down upon it and Tony's head flopped back in what was supposed to be an attempt to look like cardiac arrest.

She hit him for real this time using her free hand and he laughed, head snapping back up. "Didn't work, huh?"

"I'm a doctor, not an idiot." She extracted her hand and when she pulled it out of the socket, found that it was covered in pink slime. She didn't bat an eye at that. Next, she cleaned out the discharge from the opening, threw the gloves into the Hazardous Waste bin, put on a new pair and then put in the new unit.

"All done," she said and he flashed her a grateful smile. "See? I told you you could do it."

She wrapped the old arc reactor in a bag and put it in the briefcase. She handed it to him after he finished putting his shirt back on. "Don't ever ask me to do that again. I'm not this kind of doctor."

"I don't have anyone else." He said it so matter-of-factly that once again Pepper wondered at where the mask ended and the real Tony Stark began. Even with her hand having been inside his chest in that personal, intimate way—the way that told her he trusted her enough to let her do that, which she couldn't say the same for other people—she still had no clue.

Instead, she said, "Do you need a psych consult?"

Tony rolled his eyes at her, getting up. "Not you too. I'm not traumatized, Pepper!"

"Really? Because you basically quit your job and there's that thing in your chest that's probably giving you chronic pain every single time you breathe! I'm surprised you're even up on your feet, Tony! What happened to you was—"

"—was terrible!" he finished. "I saw people die. And did you know what killed them? My weapons at the hands of terrorists." Her heart sank at the expression on his face, like he had some kind of nightmare but it was actually real. "I thought I was protecting people, saving lives by making bigger bombs, but all I did was displace families, kill American soldiers. I didn't stop weapons manufacturing because I have PTSD. I stopped it because it's the right thing to do. I don't want my legacy to be a body count and that's something I thought you, a doctor, would understand."

She opened her mouth to apologize but no words came.

He unlocked the door and gave her one last look. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Potts." Then he was gone.

Natasha came in soon after that and locked the door behind her. "What happened? Does he have any scars? Did they turn him into a drug mule? Is he missing his genitals, what is it?"

"Nothing." Pepper shook her head, feeling terrible. "He's fine. Perfectly fine."

…

Pepper finally made a decision regarding her specialty.

Natasha's grin was infectious. "I KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO CAVE! WELCOME TO CARDIO, BITCH!"

…

A couple of days after Tony showed up in the hospital, Pepper got a call in the middle of the night—the one night she got to sleep in her own bed.

It was from an unknown number and she squinted through the brightness of her phone's screen. She pressed ACCEPT and said, "Dr. Potts. Who is this?"

"Hello," said a British man. "I am Jarvis, I run Mr. Stark's personal household."

Pepper sat up immediately, sleep dissipating as she listened to this Jarvis fella go on about Tony being in serious medical condition and that she needed to drive to his house as soon as possible.

"Text me the address," she said, already getting out of bed.

…

Tony Stark smelled. He also had a bloody nose, a swollen eye, and looked like he got hit by a sledgehammer. Who knows what other injuries he had going on internally. From the way he was lying down on the bed, Pepper could guess he either had a broken rib or a couple broken ribs.

"You came," he groaned. Pepper rushed to his side, putting her first aid kit down on the bedside table and pulling out a stethoscope. "I thought you would've after how I left things."

"That was my fault." She gently turned him on his side and he let out a long moan. She pressed the stethoscope's chest-piece on his back asking him to breathe in deeply.

What came out was a wheeze that made her frown in concern. She did the same thing to his chest.

When that was done, she pulled the stethoscope's eartips out and asked him, "What happened to you?"

"Fought a couple terrorists using a suit of armor. No big deal."

"No big deal?" she echoed, eyes widening as she began cleaning the superficial wounds on his face. "I just said the words 'terrorists' and 'suit of armor' but all you got from that was 'no big deal?' Ow! Easy, that stings!" He glared at her but it didn't look very convincing given his swollen eye.

After she patched up his wounds, she said, "I have to bring you to the hospital."

"No."

She fixed him the most serious look she could manage, one that booked no arguments. "I wasn't asking you."

"And I didn't tell my butler to call you here so you could drag my ass which I'm pretty sure is fractured all the way to the hospital where I can make the front page of the morning news." Tony struggled to sit upright but she pushed him back down.

"Tony, I can't fix you like this. I'm not a trauma doctor who can work with limited medical supplies! I need—I need an X-Ray, an IV—"

"Give Jarvis a list. He'll get them for you."

"An X-Ray isn't just something you can order like takeout. I need the X-Ray now! I'm pretty sure you have a broken rib or two!"

"Then just give me some pain killers. I'll be fine."

Pepper gave him an incredulous look. "Did you not hear me say that you have broken ribs?"

"They'll heal."

"We won't know that without the X-Ray! You could have a rib puncturing your lung or broken into several pieces—"

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Pepper wanted to tear her hair out. God, he was impossible. "Do you have a medicine cabinet?"

"Jarvis will tell you where."

The body-less butler instructed her on where to find the pills and thank God he had painkillers. She made him take some and then stepped out to buy what she needed for the intravenous drip and other drugs. Soon, she was back in his room, the painkillers had knocked him out cold. She attached an IV to his arm and watched him sleep, arguing with herself on whether or not to call an ambulance.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking at his sleeping figure and wondering when on earth she became the kind of doctor who made house calls and "this will have to do" treatments.

"Dr. Potts, the guest bedroom is available for you," said Jarvis. "You may use it to regain your strength until Mr. Stark awakens."

Pepper figured she could have a little shut-eye and located the bedroom. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When she woke up, she didn't find Tony in his room. She went down to the workshop where Jarvis told her he was, crossing paths with another man who she knew was Tony's personal assistant from the news articles but never met until now.

The man let her in the workshop by giving her his passcode and seeing Tony there, seated on a swivel chair, rolling around with the IV still attached to his arm, almost caused Pepper to have a stroke. She was sure a vein just popped in her head. It wasn't helping that a big red and gold robot was hanging from the ceiling and Tony was doing some sort of operation on its abdomen.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she cried, marching towards him in all her fury. "You are supposed to be resting! Get your ass back in bed! Don't make me use my Pepper Spray!"

Tony dared to roll away from her and say, "I'm healing. It's fine. I'm fine. You did your job. I'm alive." He stood up slowly almost as if to prove the truthfulness of his statement. "Chest still hurts a bit but I'm fine."

Pepper scowled but had to admit that he wasn't wincing with every breath he took. She sighed. "Fine. But no more fighting, Tony." She gestured to the robot warily. "Is this the suit of armor you were talking about?"

Tony nodded as Pepper stared it in fascination. "Yeah. That's actually how I escaped Afghanistan."

She looked at him, stunned. It was never revealed how he did it; Pepper just assumed he was rescued. "You escaped?"

"I built a suit and I flew out of there. Rhodey found me walking in the desert, close to dehydration." She realized this was probably also the first time he ever talked to someone about what happened to him. "When I got back, I made a better suit and yesterday, I found where the terrorists were hiding the weapons they stole from me and I destroyed all of it."

"That's good, right? So, it's over now?"

He shook his head. "I've still got a lot of work to do."

"But Tony, you're still recovering—"

"And if I wait, whoever's been selling these terrorists my weapons could do more damage. They could get away and I won't let them."

"Tony, why won't you just report this to the police?"

"I can't trust anybody, okay? It's just me and Jarvis and my assistant who I sent to hack my company and… and you." He walked towards her, eyes wide as he willed her to understand. "All my life, I've reaped the benefits of destruction and I should be dead, Pepper, but I'm not. If I'm alive, it must be for a reason. So, I can't just rest or hand this over to the police. It has to be me. I have to make this right. "

For a while now, Pepper had wondered at who the real Tony was behind the mask he put up. And now, she didn't need to search any longer because here he was, stripped bare and bruised before her… like he's always been every time they met.

This was Tony Stark

How had she only seen him now?

He was walking towards her now, a wrapped box in his hands. He handed it over to her. "It's for you."

"What's this?"

He had a small lopsided grin that told her he was about to make some kind of joke to lessen the tension in the room. "My heart."

She squinted her eyes at him, head extending forward as she studied him. "Are you still high?"

"No. That's literally my heart."

She knew it was impossible for it to be literally his heart so unless he found a way to cut his heart out of his chest, she didn't know what she was going to find inside. She unwrapped the package and inside was the old arc reactor mounted on Lucite. Proof Tony Stark has a heart was written around it.

She looked at him and he looked a little shy, watching her reaction. "Oh, Tony. I never said you were heartless."

Pepper set it down on a nearby table and turned to him as he said, "I know. I just thought you'd like it as some sort of thank—" He never got to finish because Pepper had kissed him.

She had kissed him.

"This is nice," he murmured against her mouth, hand moving to her back and pushing her against him so he could kiss her properly. They pressed their foreheads together when they pulled apart for air. "I thought doctors don't kiss their patients."

"I never said that." She kissed him again.

...

Pepper left him in the workshop after making him promise he'd take it easy. Then, she drove back to her house to get some change of clothes and to pack an overnight bag because she sure as hell was not going to let him out of her sight until she was sure he was really okay. It was also because she wanted to harangue him into going to the hospital until he got tired of her and agreed.

Before heading back to Tony's, Pepper stopped by the hospital to ask Natasha to cover for her while she was playing mother-hen slash doctor.

"Okay, but I get all your good cases when you come back."

"Deal."

When she went back to Tony's house, the front door was open which was weird because she didn't remember leaving it open. Besides, even if she did, Jarvis would've closed it behind her.

A sudden chill ran through her and she quickly got out of her car. She ran into the house, calling for Tony.

"Tony?" There was no answer. "Jarvis?" None either.

Something was wrong.

The silence was deafening and Pepper felt her pockets for the bottle of Pepper Spray. Just in case. But her hands came up empty and she cursed at the fact that she left it in the car. The one time she might actually need it outside the hospital!

She quickly bolted up the stairs to Tony's bedroom. When he wasn't there either, she ran down to the garage, grateful that his assistant gave him his passcode, but didn't find him after a quick sweeping glance of the place.

She was about to head back out when she heard it. The sound of uneven breathing.

One of Tony's robots chirped and whirred urgently, its arm moving back and forth, almost as if it was calling her over.

Pepper ran and threw herself to the ground at the sight of Tony, pale and shivering on the floor.

"Pep," he managed to croak out.

"Tony, what happened?" She feared his broken ribs punctured a lung but no, that wasn't it. She turned him over and saw that there was a hole in his chest, right where the arc reactor should be.

He was going into cardiac arrest, the shrapnel making its way into his heart.

"Tony, where is it? Where's the arc?"

His eyes darted away from and her and landed on the Lucite a foot away from them. Pepper didn't know where the new arc reactor was but the old one would have to do. She took the Lucite and smashed it on the ground. Then, in quick familiar steps, she inserted the old reactor back in his chest.

Tony inhaled audibly, and then Pepper was helping him up. "Who did this to you?"

"Obadiah."

"Isn't he that guy who works for you?"

"Old family friend," Tony spat, walking to his computer and keying a series of strokes. "Jarvis, wake up."

"At your service, Sir."

Tony walked over to the suit. "You know what to do, J." Mechanical arms extended down from the ceiling and began assembling the suit around Tony.

"Where are you going? Tony, you—" he was what? Still recovering? Going to die? Would that even stop him? He was going to make this right, he told her. But that didn't mean she wasn't afraid for him.

Right before his face mask was assembled, he looked her straight in the eye and said, "You complete me." And then he was off.

Pepper was left looking up at the sky from the hole in his garage's ceiling.

…

The last thing Tony remembered was the arc reactor blowing up and the star-filled sky beckoning him to come up to them.

When he woke up, he was back home in his bed, the usual medical tools attached to his person, IV, bandages, the whole works.

Pepper had moved a chair beside his bed and was seated on it, her head in her arms, having fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up.

He reached out a finger towards her but groaned because damn everything hurt.

Pepper stirred awake at the noise. "Tony!"

"Hey," he said lamely. "Dr. Pepper, we have to stop meeting like this."

She laughed and kissed him.

God, why did his mouth hurt too?

"Sorry, sorry," she said, sitting back down.

"So, I'm not dead," said Tony. He honestly didn't know what kind of luck he had, but he wasn't complaining.

She shook her head, chuckling. "Not on my watch."

...

…

…

TONY STARK: I AM IRON MAN.

…

…

…

It was 3 in the morning and a phone was ringing.

Tony rolled over, feeling for his phone on his bedside table. "Is that yours? Please, let that be yours."

Beside him, Pepper felt for her own phone on her side of the bed, checked it for any incoming calls, and sleepily said, "No, no, it's yours."

Tony groaned, sitting up and answering his phone. He didn't say anything intelligible except for a few grunts and a "Yes, Sir," before hanging up.

He turned to Pepper, envious of how she could still steal a few moments of sleep while he had to go and deal with a situation in the Middle East because that's what he did now. He got calls on all hours of the morning and where they told him to go, he flew.

Another phone rang and Tony nudged Pepper awake. "That's yours."

She groaned, pulling the blankets down in exasperation. "Noooo. I want to sleep."

Tony couldn't help but laugh. He reached over for her phone and answered, "Dr. Pepper's phone. Iron Man speaking. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks. She'll be right in."

Pepper sat up, glaring at him for answering. She looked adorable with her bed-hair.

He gave her a quick kiss. "Come on, Dr. Pepper, it's a beautiful day to save lives."

She sighed and got out of bed, following after him to the bathroom they now shared.

"Be careful out there, okay?" Pepper told him, changing out of her pajamas. "Just because you bought an X-Ray for the house doesn't mean that I'm in a hurry to use it."

He hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "And you be careful too. I mean, I don't want to come home to another report of you attacking the patients with Pepper Spray."

She laughed. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nope."