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"Hey, Miss Potts."
Pepper flinches so hard she reflexively grabs at her own chest. Or tries to, the suit is spectacularly in the way.
"Michelle, we talked about this."
"Did we?"
"Definitely."
Pepper takes another deep breath and the flashing lights in the HUD obligingly calm down, the outline around Michelle switching from a confused orange to green.
"FRIDAY, can we please review the list of people permitted in my suite? There seems to be a problem."
"I am so hurt right now," Michelle says. "Also? FRIDAY may not respond because I miiiight have put her in timeout. My bad."
---
"Oh my god," Pepper says for the third time, sitting awkwardly down in the nearest chair. It creaks under the weight of the suit. "This has to stop."
"What, you mean girls don't like it when you break into their houses and ask them out?"
"This isn't funny."
"It's so funny. It totally freaks you out that I'm here! Which is even more funny, because it freaks me out too. But you know, in a different way because -"
"Oh my god," Pepper says again. "You are too young to date me. We are never doing that! Please find somebody else."
---
Michelle sends flowers on her birthday. They are a thoughtful array of white gardenias and dark crimson tulips. The note attached to them reads 'that senator you spoke to last night is an a-hole who's trying to have you killed. these flowers died so i could send you this message. if you refuse them, their blood is on your hands'.
"You see?" Pepper says. Natasha is there with her, in case the flowers contained projectile thorns or poison, but mostly for moral support about the whole 'teenage vigilante with a crush' situation.
"What? She sounds great, definitely take her out."
---
"I am only here," Pepper says, very very firmly. "To show you how fundamentally incompatible we are and - oh my god, are those - ? How did you know I - ?"
She sits automatically, smoothing her brand new skirt down (she hadn't dressed up, she just had standards to maintain).
Maybe she could stay for one course. To gather intel and make an assessment.
"So," Michelle says, gulping down a very large mouthful of wine. "Um, like how was your day? Wait, no, I wrote down better questions than that."
"Oh my god," Pepper says. But instead of exasperated, it comes out fond.
---
They get slightly tipsy. It turns out when Michelle laughs, she leans forward and that one loose strand of her hair covers half her face. Pepper thinks, not at all longingly, that someone should tuck it back.
She's really attractive, too. And smart. And she knows how to disable FRIDAY all over again so Natasha definitely can't listen in when Pepper tells her about that one time, undercover in Moscow.
"Oh my god," Pepper keeps finding herself saying, in-between laughing so hard her sides hurts. "We have to do this again."
"Well, I'll have to check my diary, but sure."
---
I'm losing my mind, Pepper thinks, as they kiss under a fire escape in an alley.
Michelle cups her neck firmly, like she might've made notes about kissing, too. There's a fine tremor to her hands, as if she's nervous underneath all those jokes, and Pepper's stomach does a terrible perfect twist of what definitely isn't love.
She carefully takes Michelle's hands in hers, presses Michelle back against the (thankfully clean) wall, and shows her how it's done.
Michelle gasps, tenses, then clutches at her like a koala claiming its tree. Each reaction starts a new tingle in Pepper's toes.