Chapter Text
The voices on stage droned on as Tony adjusted his tie, looking over his cue cards and reflecting on what he had done, just a few minutes back.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Or maybe it was? This was what was eventually supposed to happen, considering that at any other time, Pepper was almost always the one to help him out of his messes.
Except this time it wasn’t a mess. It was.. it was..
He sighed. He didn’t know what it was.
All he knew was that Pepper knew it. She had seen everything. She knew how it had gone. She was one of the few people who knew why he was doing it.
Really, he could actually visualise her sitting at the end of the sofa, working away on her laptop, the day Obadiah had told Tony about the woman he’d found for him. His perfect type.
Or at least good enough to hold his fancy for a straight six months.
“Her name’s Amanda. She studied economics at Harvard, she was part of the academic circle there, she’s a columnist for the New York Economic Times, and now she’s also writing a book. So she’s intelligent, she’s famous, and her stream means that she can carry a conversation with you, is presentable in the circles you travel in, but at the same time, she’s not someone who can takeover your business empire or dream of running it, so you don’t have to worry about ‘what if things go wrong’. And she’s really hot. Like, not those stupid busty blond model type girls you bring home. Sophisticated hot. Beautiful. The kinds I know you secretly like- ‘ She impresses you with her mind ’- kind of hot. Really. You might not want to look outside at all.”
Yeah, she was attractive, with beautiful green eyes, and aware of it. She also had a curious mind, asked the right questions, listened keenly. She dressed formally, except when they had gone out for dinner twice- on both occasions she had dressed classy, almost conservatively- none of that cleavage flashing and boob showing game. She knew what she had going for her, and her silent confidence was impressive- she even knew how to hold his attention without sounding needy or desperate. She was intelligent, and knew what she stood to gain, and though they did not talk about it explicitly, made it clear that in case things went wrong, she was okay with moving ahead ‘mutually’, and even signing a prenup.
If it had been any other time, maybe Tony would have been bowled by her beauty, wit and intelligence. He definitely would have bedded her, at the least. She was mysterious and he liked a challenge, plus her practical nature was definitely appealing, a trait he felt he shared with her. Knowing that he was meeting up with her contemplating marriage, however, made it different than the usual. He had never been comfortable with her once in that one month they dated, and physical proximity seemed like a task (even though she was undeniably talented with her tongue). A feeling of doom stepped in every time they went out, (as advised by Obadiah), and went over their expectations with each other. It was the reason why he never slept with her. The sinking feeling never left him. It felt as if he was walking towards a guillotine. Doing something terribly wrong. Fucking up his life.
Why?
Probably because it did not feel like marriage. Or even dating. It felt like a freaking business contract. Not that he was an expert on relationships, or marriage. All he was an expert on was in the pleasures that could be given to, and taken from, women. He had done it successfully for years.
Marriage though, not a clue.
“It’s not very different from a business contract, honestly.” Obadiah had said easily, when he had voiced his fears. “I mean, that’s how your Dad did it- and he was not unlike you. He faced a similar situation as you after years of frolicking, and eventually got married too, and his reasons were not very different. With age and wisdom and of course, industrial expansion, he realised he couldn’t keep on living the irresponsible and brash Playboy life forever. He realised that people around him were right- he needed to stop embarrassing himself, gain a better reputation, live a more disciplined and balanced life, settle down, have a family, have a child and set down proper rules of inheritance to avoid conflict and jeopardy; and he chose the one who fit in best and with whom he felt he really had a future- your Mom was the family type who wanted kids and to take care of them, wanted nothing more than a successful marriage, and thanks to her family background and social standing, elevated your Dad to the classy circles from the initial trashy and later brash playboy circles he belonged to. Don’t think your Dad was in love with your Mom initially when they got married. But it worked out well and they had a good marriage because they managed to avoid conflict. And of course, because women weren’t financially independent in those days so divorces were rare.” He coughed uncomfortably and leant in closer. “In the end, you just need someone who is honest and is okay with fulfilling the expectations you express in advance. In your case, it would primarily be some credibility, and a heir. And of course, taking care of said heir.”
“Obie, Dad and Mom had plenty of conflicts- trust me, I know- I lived with them, I heard those arguments. But their marriage stood ground because all said and done, they understood, admired and loved each other, and because of that, they were willing to work on their relationship all their lives. They were truly together until they... you know.” Tony exhaled deeply. “In my case, however, this doesn’t feel right. I’m not sure Amanda and me will last together for even a year.”
“That’s fine Tony! She agreed for a prenup. And even if the marriage doesn’t work out, our purpose would be fulfilled in like, a year.”
Yeah okay. Thanks for saying that out aloud, and embarrassing me just a teeny bit more in front of Pepper, reminding her again of what an asshole I am, he had thought.
Then again, this was not the worst that she had seen.
(Not that she would say anything to him though. Their Cold War hadn’t ended yet.)
The worst thing was there were no fatherly feelings at play or the wish for a real blissful married life, it was just about appeasing a group of boring old people who were worried that the company would face an internal chaos and disaster of kinds if he had a freak accident, again . (And of course, a little guilt on his part, made worse by Pepper’s cold behaviour to him, after said recent inebriated car accident.)
He normally would have ignored them, as he had done countless times in the past, but it was difficult this time after he had had a vision of what it would be like if he suddenly died- the press speculating who the company would pass down to, and stocks for Stark Industries falling down by 240 points while he was recuperating in hospital, with widespread chaos regarding administration and employee concerns, government and military concerns about unfinished weapon contracts and design patents, while stockholders and members of the Board argued- with Rhodey, Obadiah and Pepper bearing the brunt of everything.
It was evident now that most people thought he was hardly responsible anyway, was a genius but had no focus and was just ruining his life with the women and alcohol and rashness, and would likely end up hospitalised or dead in the coming years- either with liver failure or in a freak accident or a drug or alcohol overdose or in a security breach thanks to one of the girls he called home- the possibilities seemed absolutely endless.
That he was unpredictable, hardly contributed to company administration, didn’t even bother to attend meetings on time or sign papers, or even stick to the cards in press conferences, and had a wild reputation- was a long established fact already.
No wonder then that were murmurs that the Board of Directors was petitioning for a proper CEO to replace him. One who was actually reliable.
Thankfully, he had survived the accident and managed to live another day. But now HE was being made to take a good hard look at himself and do damage control. And as he saw it, he had limited options:
- Listen to the Board, get a CEO and himself slink back to being Chairman, and get married only if he wished to. (Yeah. He would be holding no more power in his own life or company. What next, giving up position of Head of R & D as he wasn’t accountable? Hey, what if he got married to the CEO? Noooo.. that would be way too much power given away to one person.)
- Listen to Obadiah and focus on generating positive press- get married to carefully selected person with a prenup in place, for as much time as he could possibly stay with another person in peace, have a child, hope for the marriage to work out, also meanwhile appease the Board and Press, design some awesome stuff and make them rich and happy and get his credibility back and ... well that’s it. (Hopefully the divorce settlement isn’t bad and he doesn’t turn out to be as bad a Dad as HIS Dad, he thought wistfully, thinking of the unease he felt around Amanda.)
- Listen to Pepper, but she wasn’t speaking to him! (Damn!)
- Listen to Happy, who advised him not to push Pepper’s buttons any more at the moment as the matter was already bad.
- Listen to Rhodey, not marry impulsively, and bounce back with another awesome weapon design and multibillion dollar contract to appease the Board. Money always convinced everyone- be it the Board or the press.
- Listen to the invincible Tony Stark- the one who owned the company, and flip the Board, asking them to leave if they couldn’t work under him. (Baaaad idea, but hey, who knows, the threat might actually work?!)
- Listen to that little voice at the back of his mind, which said that the easiest way out would be to appoint his trustworthy long time business partner and father figure Obadiah Stane CEO and his heir. The Board loved Obie, and he himself had relied on him for years. Everyone would be happy and nothing would have to change. (That one was surprisingly getting louder every single time he met Amanda.)
Tony shut that little voice again. His father had never been proud of him anyway, but if he just turned everything over to Obadiah and renounced his role in the company, he would be letting his Dad down in the worst way possible, disappointing him even in death.
The Stark legacy, in the hands of outsiders.
Maybe they were all right somewhere, and he needed to listen to all of them- he finally explained himself. Maybe he didn’t need to bend before the Board or quit CEO, just do a bit of damage control, for them and for himself. Maybe he needed, really needed to get away from his hedonistic lifestyle- the alcohol, the multiple women, the wild sex, the insane hours of waking and sleep, the adrenaline ladled frenzy- and have a semblance of a more ‘normal’ life if he wanted to stay alive and sane, and the company to keep working peacefully. Maybe he needed to improve his image in the media- the current one might be exciting but was doing him no good.
Maybe he needed to date seriously for once, find himself a good woman and get down to a boring quiet settled life, at home and in his office, and hope for it all to improve from there?
Except that he couldn’t seriously imagine dating any of the women he met.
Maybe Rhodey was right. Maybe he didn’t need marriage or too much change. The upcoming Jericho AI guided missile system was a stunner, it would bring everyone back to him, clamouring for attention. As for a heir, well.. there were other ways to have children.. yes, surrogacy would be better, after all, behind all their big words, all that the Board really cared about was a system of inheritance and will in place, if his liver gave up from the constant torture it was subjected to!
At least surrogacy ensured that one didn’t need to have a marriage arranged for you as if you were incapable of finding a wife for yourself.
Except that he hated, absolutely hated the idea of surrogacy for reasons that he couldn’t explain. Just like he couldn’t explain why he had sent that goddamn crazy note to Pepper a few minutes back.
What would she think of him, knowing the truth behind his thought process and intentions to get married to Amanda?
*****
Back in the present, in the press conference, he looked in the front, where Obadiah was on the stage now, addressing the crowd of reporters. Next would be his turn.
He gave a sigh and felt in his pocket for the 20 carat solitaire ring Pepper had handed over to him in the car in the morning. Yes, it was still there in his breast pocket. Size adjusted as per Amanda’s ring finger.
And it still created this weight on his heart.
He looked ahead at his long time driver and bodyguard Happy Hogan standing near the gate. The genuine and simple chap he was, he had given a very practical suggestion- if Amanda didn’t feel right, why not date someone else and then decide about marriage.
The abrupt dismissal of this suggestion had made him realise the truth.
The problem wasn’t Amanda in particular. It would be the same with any woman in her place with whom he was forced to spend the rest of his life.
All, except one.
He looked at Pepper now, standing backstage, looking at her Blackberry pensively, no doubt still thinking over the note he had sent her. His eyes focused on every small movement and expression, he tried to guess what was going on in her mind. Even from the distance, he could see her nimble fingers type.
The next moment, his phone pinged.
He jumped to pull it out, his hands trembling, and he had no doubt people around him were turning to look over the commotion. He smiled meekly, and hid his phone with his cue cards, as if shielding a precious secret from the world. With his heart beating fast, he opened the messages to check Pepper’s answer, and found a single word.
‘Yes’.
Yes?
Yes???
Yes!?!
Yes!!!
It took a few minutes to realize that they were calling his name now on stage, and he got up in a daze, walking with legs made of mud, which felt as if they would give away any moment.
Yes? But how? How could she say yes knowing what he was, and why he was suddenly contemplating marriage in first place. How could she say yes when she’d been so angry at him all these days, even threatened to resign? And hadn’t she said that if she had been in his place, she would not have bent before the Board? He could hear her words now, the way she’d said it then, the one time he had asked her.
“I’m no one to advise you on such personal matters Mr Stark,” she had said in her usual unflappable air, pretending to be absorbed in her laptop. “But from what I have understood so far, the Board wants to reform you, like they really think it can be done *eyeroll*- and by marriage, they’re hoping it would make you settle down, and want to live, like your Dad. What Obadiah, and they, by extension, are doing however, is just making sure you are more ‘prepared’ to die, when it happens.”
“I really don’t see much of a difference between the two.”
She had looked squarely at him. “And that is why my personal thoughts on the matter are reserved to me. Will that be all?”
Of course it had not been all, but back then she had been edgy and he too hadn’t exactly been comfortable in sharing more, knowing she was still mad at him. They had hardly spoken ever since the accident, even though she had slept outside his room in the presidential suite in hospital and stayed with him all the time, helped him change, eat, attended to every of his little needs, called out to the nurse when he needed assistance which she could not give, reminded his medications, spoken to the doctors and looked after the company. (She had also done the uncomfortable job of addressing the press regarding the accusations of him being pitch drunk during the accident, but that was a whole different story altogether, mainly because of how guilty it made him feel).
Like a wife. She had taken care of him just like a wife would.
And just like a wife, she had also been (rightfully!) angry, and he had been embarrassed of the person he was and the life he led. Thus he had gone along with Obadiah’s plan to repair his life, wondering if it would work out as well as it had for his Dad.
Of course, that plan ended 5 minutes ago.
He was aware that his speech about their new military contracts and proposal for the year, written meticulously by Pepper and handed to him before the conference, was now over (yes, he had managed to stick to the cards, thank you very much) and the reporters were jumping up and down in their seats, hoping to grab his attention and get a few bytes. Of course, as previously planned, he selected one that he had met a few minutes back in the briefing room.
“Mr. Stark, you had a bad accident recently at the Formula One event in Monaco, where you took part.” The reporter named Jock asked. “What do you have to say about it? Has it in anyway changed your life?”
“Yes, it has definitely changed the way I deal with my left arm now.” Said Tony, wincing as he lifted his arm up. Everyone laughed and he grinned too, thankful that the alcohol part of the accident had skilfully been covered up by his PR team. “But more than that, it’s made me aware of my mortality, and my limits, as a human being. Made me aware of the lives that are intricately linked to mine, and how if anything happens to me, they are affected too.. It.. definitely, set me thinking.”
He remembered his first glance of Pepper from inside the operating room- even in that post anaesthesia muddled state, the glass screen separating the two had conveyed sufficiently her red eyes and little sobs. He could never forget the pang of pain in his heart on seeing her state. A Cold War had existed between Pepper and him in the following days, when she had been by his side throughout but staunchly refused to talk to him. That is, until Obadiah had broken news of the concerns of the Board regarding Tony’s fast life, worsening reputation, will and matters of succession, even discussions of bringing in a new CEO- and how to salvage the situation. Then she had spoken, curtly saying that he needed to grow up first before being responsible for a second human being.
And now she was ready to marry this man child.
Or was she?
She was directly in front of him now, seated in the first row, looking up at him and the other reporters, and he looked at her steadfast gaze. She did not pry away her eyes, but instead brought up her fist, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair, and her face on her fist.
The ring on her finger reflected the light from the cameras.
No wonder it did. He had recently polished his MIT graduation brass rat, just in time for the MIT alumni meet next week. He remembered slipping it on and off his finger, on the way to the conference today, his nervous trait, eventually dropping it in the car, and then crouching to look for his only valued piece of jewellery.
“Stop ruining your suit!” She had snapped, her ear to her Blackberry. “We have a press conference in a few minutes. Now is not the time for play!”
Nevertheless she had bent down too, to look for it, and eventually handed it back to him. All said and done, she did know what it meant to him, he had thought, looking at her face, as she evaded his eyes, instead frowning and fussing over his ruined hair, tucking a few stray strands carefully into place, adjusting his pocket square, brushing a few specks of dust from his coat, muttering all the while about the logistics of the press conference. Finally, she fell silent, still not looking at him, her hands barely touching the lapels of his coat. This Cold War had created so much distance between them in the last few days, he had hated every minute of them not being able to be ‘normal’ with each other.
“I hope you didn’t lose the ring I gave you.”
“No, I have it.” He nodded. “I’m still not sure though..”
“Of what..” she finally looked up to face him. In her sapphire blue eyes, he could see the earnestness, and something else which he could not place. Even through the layers of makeup he could catch sight of the freckles on her nose. They had never failed to capture his attention, often making him wonder to what extent they spread.
One of the unsolved mysteries of his life, that would now forever lay unsolved, he had thought.
Lost in his thoughts, he touched her nose with the tip of his index finger, a small smile playing on his face, and she drew back, puzzled.
“What?”
“Your concealer is off.” He told her, smiling. “I can see your freckles.”
“Oh..!” She muttered, pulling out a small mirror from her magical handbag, which somehow always seemed to have whatever she, or he, needed. One day, he would turn it upside down and see what all it held, or whether it was an endless pool of stuff, as he had always thought of it.
Then his mind went back to the diamond in his pocket and he straightened up. As if by itself, his hand went to his brass rat, pulling and pushing it up and down.
It was what he had sent to her a few minutes later, with a 4 word wedding proposal, hastily scribbled on a tissue paper in the dressing room.
It was what she was wearing now, as if daring him to go ahead with what he had started.
He looked at her for a few more seconds, and then proceeded to go ahead with the first of many impromptu announcements that would change his life.
For once, she would not shout at him for not sticking to the cards.