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Back to school time was the worst.
Peter and MJ weren’t the only ones sulking about the return of school. Pepper loathed this time of the year, too.
NYU always started in September, exactly at the same time as all of the primary and secondary schools of New York did. Forget Black Friday; this was the busiest time of the year for New York Brewing. The cafe was only a few blocks from the university. This practically dominated the amount of business the New York Brewing got. Exam season was worse, but this was a pretty close second. The move-in week always brought a lot of tired, sweaty parents and students.
Two years ago, Pepper had been excited and pleased to have as much business as they did in September. But now, she dreaded it more than ever. School starting meant Peter and MJ had to change to later shifts and it was just Pepper and Sam for four hours straight. At least now they had Maggie in the back to come and help if rush hour got really bad. September was still hot as ever, only lightened by Pepper’s ability to wear shorts as she worked behind the espresso machine. There was a slow hour before the younger students would get out of class and then it was another hour of chaos and praying that MJ and Peter would come soon. Sam was in the back with Maggie, preparing sandwiches and testing out new menu items. Pepper had agreed to stay in the front, on the condition that she’d get to run the register when the rush began again.
The cafe was empty now, so she stepped out from behind the counter and grabbed the sanitizing spray. She sighed and tried not to think about the fourth oncoming rush of the day.
For once, Tony Stark was out of his workshop.
On a normal day, he’d be tucked away in his workshop on one of the basement levels of Stark Industries, hiding from shareholders and anyone else who wanted something from him. He preferred to spend his time around machinery instead of people: people always wanted something more than what he was able to give. Machines didn’t care, they only needed a purpose and they were perfectly content with what he gave them.
Today was not a normal day. He had to leave the building and fast.
In less than a month, Stark Industries’ fiscal year would end and, in three months, it would be ten years since Maria and Howard Stark vanished from public view.
The media still speculated that they were alive and well, still managing Stark Industries and choosing not to go out. The weirder, conspiratorial magazines had a tendency to claim that they’d been abducted by aliens.
If only they all knew the truth.
Ten years ago, Maria and Howard Stark were found off a road in Long Island, having crashed their car into a tree. Autopsies had found that Howard was intoxicated at the time of death. Maria was transferred to a hospital but was pronounced dead upon arrival. Tony had been seventeen at the time.
Surprisingly, the company had managed to keep the entire thing under wraps. Only three people were present at the funeral upstate. NDAs were drafted and signed and the world kept moving forward.
It was commonly known that Tony had never publicly accepted the CEO position of Stark Industries. Sure, there were representatives there every time the company had to be present at anything, but most believed Howard Stark was alive and kicking. To be fair, no one had ever contradicted these claims.
In the beginning, the board had assumed control, pushing their own agenda. Still, the longer they put it off, the more people started to ask about the heir of Stark Industries. Tony was facing internal and external pressure from the company and the media. Even he seemed to be wondering how he was going to measure up to everything his father had done.
This morning, they’d dragged him into one of the building’s many, many meeting rooms. They proceeded to demand to see a plan for the next fiscal year. Tony had shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders so high that they nearly reached his earlobes.
“Unbelievable,” one of the board members had said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Jesus, Stark, when the hell are you going to grow up?”
Tony had said something akin to “fuck off” before walking out and slipping into a private elevator. A few of them had tried to go after him but by the time they reached the elevator, he was already sinking down beneath their feet.
If Happy Hogan was here, he’d be with Tony, escorting him down to the garage and climbing into a sports car with him in the driver’s seat. Instead, Happy was on vacation for a few days, probably needing time and space in order to stay sane around Tony 24/7.
Once Tony reached the ground floor, he slipped his glasses on and stepped out into the hot, sticky September afternoon. As soon as he was on the corner, he raised a hand. A yellow taxi pulled over a few feet away, waiting patiently as Tony practically raced over, stepping in almost hastily. He ducked his head and brought it close to the grate.
“Uh, fuck. Washington Square?” Tony tried, trying to remember where his therapist’s office was. He knew it was around NYU, but Happy usually did the driving. A crowd of college students would definitely harass him, but he’d promised Happy that he’d be able to get himself there and back without too much of an issue.
Tony had been in therapy for about two years. He’d gotten ridiculously drunk and attempted to rewrite his own will the night of their death anniversary, eight years after they’d passed. Luckily, James Rhodes and Happy arrived on time to steer him to his bed. The next afternoon, after a painful hangover, they had a long intervention. They had another one later in the week, where Tony finally relented and started researching for therapists nearby. Under the section “reasons why I want to start therapy”, Happy had written the following: to control impulsivity and self-destructive thoughts in a healthy way. Tony declared bullshit.
Happy had submitted it anyway.
“Everyone wants to go to NYU. Think they just started classes again,” the cab driver said as he pulled away from the curb.
“Oh, nice.” Tony waited until Stark Tower was out of view before leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes. He’d escaped them for now, at least.
They were only a few blocks away from the square when Tony asked to stop. The cabbie lifted an eyebrow as Tony paid, wondering why he decided to change the stop only seconds before.
“Keep the change,” Tony said before dusting himself off and climbing out, letting the cab leave him on 10th Street.
The nearly empty cafe in front of him was a place he’d stopped by many times before, though he’d never been inside. Happy always insisted on getting Tony coffee to make his bi-weekly, hour-long, torturous therapy sessions somewhat bearable.
Tony wasn’t a big coffee person, but he had to admit that the type sold at New York Brewing was good. It wasn’t too bitter or sweet, always familiar and comforting. Almost homey.
Without a second thought, he twisted the handle and walked in.
Pepper was taking that bell off the door tonight. If she had to hear it ring again, she was going to go to the back lockers and scream. More people trickled in. Pepper swallowed the urge to ask all of them to leave.
The ten minutes of peace was better than nothing, she thought as she headed back to the counter, putting on her best “How can I help?” smile.
“Welcome to New York Brewing.” God, she could hear the fakeness in her voice. “Are you ready to order?”
She had just finished ringing up the third customer when a man with square, red sunglasses came in and cut the line. The customer who would’ve been next glared at his back.
“Sir, you have to wait your turn,” Pepper said with exasperation. “There are five other people waiting to put in their order who were here before you.”
“I got an appointment in ten minutes and I don’t know what the address is.” He made a little “hurry up” motion with his hand.
Pepper could feel the headache building in the back of her head. Today had been particularly full of entitled, rich people like him and she was five seconds away from losing her patience.
“I understand that, but these people have been waiting for longer. You can’t put yourself before them,” Pepper said coolly. “Who exactly do you think you are?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He took off his glasses. “Tony Stark.”
She stared at him blankly. “Well, Mr. Stark, you’re just going to have to wait at the back of the line as everyone else did.”
“You’ve never heard of me? Heir of Stark Industries? Genius billionaire?”
“Billionaire or not, you need to go to the back of the line.”
He glanced at her nametag. “Pepper, is it? Can I call you Pepper?”
She gave him a look, trying hard not to lose her temper.
“Usually I send my driver in and it’s easier than this. I got an appointment down the street once a week and he always stops by here. We could go anywhere, I’m not picky. Well, that’s not true. My pick is this place. And even though it’s a little cheap for coffee in Manhattan - way, way too cheap for the quality and quantity, like you could definitely raise the prices here - my endorsement would boost sales even more. If you let me cut the line, I could do a lot of great things here.” He smiled at her charmingly. Pepper seemed to be immune to this, maintaining her blank stare.
“Well, if you send your driver here, then you can send him somewhere else. I’m sure a simple cup of coffee is cheap for a billionaire like yourself. And for the record, Mr. Stark? This cafe is doing alright on its own, even without your business. However, you’ve been holding up the line for at least a minute or two and if you want your coffee, you have to go to the back of the line.” She gave him an innocent smile and made a gesture for him to go away. “Next customer, please! Sorry for the wait, everybody.”
Tony spent the next eight, agonizing minutes in line trying to remember what the address of the therapist’s office was and what Happy usually ordered for him at the cafe. Happy said the order out loud every time he brought it to Tony, but for some goddamn reason, it was impossible for him to remember anything.
He was tempted to go look for something stronger than coffee to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth that had been there since the board “meeting”. Still, he’d waited in the line; albeit not very quietly.
When the person in front of him had been staring open-mouthed at the menu for at least a minute or two, he stepped closer. “The Bucky special’s good. I don’t know who Bucky is, but the description sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.”
Pepper tried not to glare at Tony as he handed out this advice. She wasn’t a pre-school teacher. She didn’t need to micromanage him. The sooner he got out of the cafe, the sooner Sam would take over and she could hide in the back.
“Anyone who says “this has hints and sweet tones of cocoa” is a coffee expert. I mean, seriously. That’s what people say about wine and beer. He’s probably using the same logic. Of course, there’s always the rose-infused coffee, which might be up your alley,” he kept going. The guy didn’t seem too phased by Tony’s recommendations, eventually giving Pepper his order. He looked at Tony in disbelief before walking over to the pick-up counter.
“What can I get for you?” Pepper asked.
“Normally my driver comes in around now twice a week, do you know him? Happy Hogan. This tall and kinda wideset,” Tony made several gestures to better describe Happy. “He usually orders for me.”
“So you’ve just spent the last six minutes in line after you demanded to cut it and you still don’t know what you want.” Pepper fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“I do. Kind of. It’s got vanilla and is sweet and bitter at the same time? It’s like a super particular thing-” He stopped when he got another blank stare.
“Mr. Stark, not everyone has an abundance of time and money.”
“And it seems you don’t have an abundance of patience today,” he said irritably. She gave him a seething glare. “I mean, seriously. You’ve been pleasant to every customer besides me.”
“That’s because every other customer didn’t cut the line and try to wave his money around.”
“Would it kill you to be nice?”
“Only if it guaranteed I didn’t have to deal with entitled people. Are you going to order or not?”
“Well, ordering means the conversation would be over and I’m interested in why you think I’m entitled,” he shrugged.
Pepper stared at him, trying very hard to not flip him off and walk away from the counter with the last ounce of her dignity.
“So, you’re ordering a black coffee. No cream, no sugar.” She said, mentally recomposing herself after a brief pause. “Just follow the instructions on the tablet.”
Tony didn’t go to therapy that afternoon, instead choosing to return to Stark Tower, beelining for his workshop. Even if he had gone, he would’ve been at least ten minutes late. It was easier to just cancel the appointment and call in sick. He ignored the buzzing of his phone.
“Mr. Stark, Happy Hogan has tried to call you six times and has asked me if there is a crisis,” FRIDAY announced after he’d been down there for at least five hours. “Should I put him through?”
“Just send him a text, FRIDAY.”
“Mr. Hogan is calling again. It seems urgent.”
Tony finally pulled out his phone, sighing loudly before answering. “What?”
“Why did I get eight, very angry emails from the board members today?” Happy Hogan’s annoyed voice was on the other side.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words flew out of Tony’s mouth instantaneously.
“FRIDAY told me that you didn’t go to therapy, either. I thought you said you were going to be okay without me and Rhodes around.” Happy’s annoyed voice turned into one of concern. Tony wrinkled his nose.
“I tried,” Tony argued. “They’re literally all assholes.”
“Okay, I can understand the board members, but why wouldn’t you go to therapy? Did you go to the cafe we usually go to before your appointments?”
“Do you need to interrogate me for this?”
“Not important,” Happy dismissed. “The cafe?”
“I walked in and stepped up to the counter, and the barista started antagonizing me and talking about how it was unfair of me to cut the line. I told her who I was and got nothing. Even after I offered to promote and endorse the cafe with my appearance, she sent me to the back of the line!” Tony huffed.
“Was she the woman with strawberry blonde hair and freckles?”
“Yeah. Pepper, I think?”
“Tony, that’s the woman who takes our orders every time. She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met,” Happy explained exasperatedly. “How the fuck did you manage to piss her off?”
Tony stayed silent for a moment. “She said she’d only be nice if she didn’t have to deal with entitled people.”
Happy must have been drinking something when Tony said that because that was the only explanation for the spitting and choking noises that followed shortly after.
“So you need to apologize,” Happy said when his coughing fit had gone away. “Maybe you both were having bad days.”
“The only time I’d need to apologize is if I’d threatened to buy out the cafe.”
“Wait for me to come back and then we’ll go to apologize together. You can even practice with the therapist.”
“Happy, no.”
“Try not to piss off anyone else. I’m on vacation for about 72 more hours and I’d like to enjoy it,” Happy threatened cheerfully. “If you can’t handle that, I’m gonna call Rhodes and tell him you need a sitter.”
The next week, Mr. Stark was back with his driver. Luckily, Sam was in the front with her this time. “Easy,” he warned as her shoulders tensed.
Across the cafe, Tony and Happy stood, arguing in harsh, not-whispers. This was the third time they’d had this particular argument today.
“You have to apologize first,” Happy said for the umpteenth time. “And then, you need to order for yourself.”
“I don’t even know what you usually order for me,” Tony argued. “Why can’t I just send over an apology bouquet?”
“Forgiveness can’t be bought, you gotta earn it. And that starts with a genuine, spoken, in-person apology.”
“That’s going to take too long.”
“Well, the longer you drag your feet, the later we’re going to be for your appointment.” Happy pointed out, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Now, I’m going to order and after I do, you’re going to apologize to the nice woman.”
Tony shot him a pained expression. Happy was not amused. He herded Tony to the front counter and gave him a pointed look before turning to Pepper.
“Ah, Mr. Hogan.” Pepper smiled, relaxing a little. “On duty, I see.” She drummed her fingers on the counter, patiently waiting for his order.
“Call me Happy, ma’am. The usual for me, but we’re ordering separately today.” Happy put on a charming smile. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, scribbling something on a cup and handing it off to Sam.
“3.50, please.” She turned the tablet to face them, drumming her fingers again as Happy finished the transaction. “That’ll be right out for you.”
Tony stepped up to the counter and her fingers stopped moving, her shoulders tensing again.
“Mr. Stark,” Pepper greeted, smoothing out her apron. “What can I get you?”
“Anything other than plain black coffee. I think my soul died. I’m sure someone likes it plain but it was a lot,” Tony said.
“Okay.” Pepper tapped away and started to move away from the counter. “That’s 4.50, then.”
“The other day was childish. I mean, I think we were both pretty annoyed with the situation because neither of us got what we wanted. The offer to endorse the cafe is still open, though. I could bring in more customers.” As Tony explained, Pepper slowly moved back to the counter, folding her arms.
She glanced at Happy, who gave her a sheepish smile. He’s trying, Happy mouthed.
“How do I know you won’t bother my customers or try to repeat what you did the other day?”
“I am sorry about that,” Tony started. “I won’t do it in the future.”
Pepper looked unimpressed. “Is that an apology?”
Under Pepper and Happy’s watch, Tony let his bravado fall back for a moment. “I’m sorry for asking to cut the line because of my financial status.”
She was still waiting for something else, so Tony continued. “And I’m sorry that I implied that the cafe needed me more than any other customer. I was a total asshole that day. I mean, more than I should have been.”
Pepper studied him for another minute, trying to understand his motive. Was the cafe important enough to him that he felt the need to risk his nonchalant reputation? Getting someone to apologize was never easy, but Pepper had honestly thought that she’d never see the day that a billionaire would apologize to her personally.
“Okay,” Pepper said after a long pause. “That’s still 4.50.” She left the counter to help Sam hand out the other orders and start on Happy and Tony’s drinks. When he’d finished the transaction, he caught her looking over at him. The corners of her mouth upturned slightly as he pulled a twenty out of his wallet and dropped it in the tip jar.
He’d almost forgotten Happy was behind him until -
“I’d call that progress.”
Tony had never been so happy to see the cafe.
Pepper had forgiven him only a week before. Today had been particularly awful because a press conference had lasted longer than expected, cutting into the time Tony and Happy would usually use to stop by New York Brewing before his appointment. He’d sulked the entire session, longing for coffee and waiting for his miserable day to end.
Happy had noticed and quietly walked Tony to the coffee shop, nudging the billionaire to look up when they finally arrived. “We can stay as long as you want,” he promised Tony, opening the door and ushering him inside.
Tony had never been to the cafe after therapy. It was still mostly empty, though he suspected that would change once school got out. Pepper was behind the counter, but she seemed to be explaining something to the kid who was also back there with a laptop.
When he finally caught her eye, she straightened up. “Peter, why don’t you sit at a table and try to finish your homework before the next rush?” She suggested.
“Ms. Potts, I can always do it later, I have time. The essay is due tomorrow but if I need to I’ll stay up,” the boy argued. Pepper pointed to one of the empty tables.
“Homework before adult work,” she said, shooing him off. Tony stepped forward. “Mr. Stark, what can I get you today?”
“Mr. Stark?” Peter froze on his way to the table Pepper had pointed at. “Tony Stark?”
Tony took off his glasses. “Is there another son of Howard Stark named Tony, too?”
Peter nearly dropped his books. “W-well, you could be from an alternate reality or just share the same name. String theory and all that,” he said, nearly buzzing with excitement.
“This is Peter Parker. He’s on the afternoon shift with me, although he’s supposed to be doing his homework before we get busy again,” Pepper said pointedly. Peter ignored the slight for what it was. “My other part-timer’s sick today.”
“Mr. Stark, I’m a huge fan. You know, I actually went to Stark Expo a couple years ago with my uncle and we saw a demo of the drones SI was developing-”
Pepper placed a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Peter, why don’t we let him order and get settled first?”
“Can I make his order?” Peter asked, giving her a wide-eyed look. “Just one and then I’ll go do homework.”
Pepper waved her hand, feigning annoyance before letting him set his books down in their original place and step behind the espresso machine.
“Are you ready to order, Mr. Stark?”
“You know, I’m still trying to figure out what my regular order from this place was. Happy won’t tell me,” Tony huffed. Pepper rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. “So I guess you can pick something for me, as long as it isn’t plain black coffee.”
“Here, Peter,” Pepper said, scribbling down an order onto a cup and handing it to the teenager. “That’s 5.12,” she told Tony, absentmindedly drumming her fingers as she waited for him to complete the transaction.
“You’re not tense anymore,” Tony said, watching her fingers tap the counter one by one.
“Am I always tense?”
Tony grinned. “Well, you only tap your fingers like that when you’re serving a customer you like to talk to. You did it when you were talking to Happy a few days ago.”
“Hm. Must be a force of habit,” Pepper hummed. “We’ll call your name when the coffee’s ready.”
“Thanks,” Tony dropped the tip into the jar next to the register and sat down at a table in the corner. He watched Happy order before dropping his attention to his phone.
A few minutes later, Peter came to deliver their drinks, grinning. “Enjoy your coffee, Mr. Stark and Mr. Hogan!” He chirped, practically skipping back to the counter to grab his books.
Tony took a sip of the coffee after a minute of waiting for the drink to cool down. His eyes widened as he recognized the taste.
“What’s up, boss?” Happy asked, eyeing the now delighted look on Tony’s face.
“This is the order you used to get for me every week,” Tony grinned. “I thought I’d have to go through the entire menu before you or Pepper told me what it was.”
“Didn’t Pepper write something on your cup?” Happy pointed to the scribbles on Tony’s cup. Tony raised it for a better look.
In a messy script, Pepper had written down “Vanilla Flat White w/ HB”. Tony’s eyes softened at the writing.
When he was done looking at the writing, Tony stared at Happy. “It was that simple?”
“Most of the time. Sometimes I’d ask for them to sneak in cinnamon or nutmeg. During the holidays, Pepper would add mint and I think they added lavender a few times, too,” Happy shrugged. “If you were having a bad day, I let them add their own topping, just to change it up. You never seemed to notice the difference.”
“You did this every week for over two years?”
“About as long as you’ve been in therapy, yeah. I figured if you had something to look forward to, it’d make things easier. Pepper always said to drag you inside, but you never wanted to go on your own until a few weeks ago.”
“I hope the coffee’s to your liking. Our bakers were testing some ideas for biscotti earlier for our fall menu this morning and left some for our regulars to sample. I figured you’d want to try them,” Pepper appeared with a plate with six different biscotti on it. “Pumpkin spice, cherry almond, and saffron.” She pointed to each one respectively. “There are two of each, so don’t feel obligated to share.”
“It’s great,” Tony blurted out.
“Maybe we should start coming here after your appointments so coffee can be your reward,” Happy suggested. “It’s quieter and probably a little more relaxing than rushing off to the next meeting.”
“Either way, we appreciate the business,” Pepper smiled before disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she re-emerged with a large tote bag and a jacket slung over her forearm.
“See you next week, Mr. Hogan and Mr. Stark.”