RP for aestark: Movies night!

[takingouttrash]

It wasn't as though Pepper hadn't accompanied Tony Stark on a wide variety of public appearances.

It was just that the role of the date for them was usually otherwise (and often, by more than one ... person) occupied and that was making her nervous.

... maybe not telling her sooner hadn't been a bad tactic. Otherwise she'd have had more time to get MORE nervous. At least she'd been satisfied with her choice of dress. Blue again. If with slightly more back to it than the last one. Though it made up for it by the skirt being split ridiculously high (she thought).

She also made sure that whatever color coordination was possible, in Tony's black suit ensemble, was available for him - if he felt like it.

Eight pee emma she was ready, heels, loose curls, and everything.

And maybe a little eager to see the movie. Just a little. Not that she had a vested interest in superheroes or anything, not at all.

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[takingouttrash]

... at least the jolt didn't get any Dr. Pepper on them her the way her other arm moving up in surprise did now?

After all, even Pepper Potts has moments when she gets information overloads, and this? Was one of them. Movie story, Bruce Wayne, explosion, and a kiss... from Tony?

She flinched away at the feeling of the still-cool liquid she'd spilled on herself. No, it wasn't exactly flinching back because of the kiss. But would he be able to see the actual cause of it and the following gasp, in the dark?

[aestark.livejournal.com]

It felt weird. Scratch that...it felt incredibly and infinitely stupid. He was suddenly thirteen years old again. She had gasped in surprise but it was hardly one that indicated the kiss was welcomed or pleasant. He retracted almost instantly.

Before she could get a word out he was on his feet, moving down the aisle towards the exit of the auditorium. "Fuck!" he cursed to himself out loud...of course to one who wasn't looking for it it blended with the commotion on screen. He left the dialogue far behind when he walked straight out the doors of the theater, standing in the plaza shifting uneasily and throwing his head back in a sigh.

"Real nice job, you son of a bitch."

[takingouttrash]

Pepper actually lost a moment staring in space, after he flew off, more or less... shocked.

What did just... Oh god! "Tony!"

Stilettos have their advantages. They really do. But not when you're trying to run down IMAX steps in the dark. (Of course, if somebody could pull it off, it would be Pepper. That, however, by no means made it easy.)

It was a little less strenuous running through the lobby, although she had to look around to try to see which way he'd gone (alas, it wasn't deserted as one might hope... yes, of course. If something happened, it would be public!) - until she caught his figure through the exit door glass. She pushed the door open.

"Tony?" She stepped closer to him, carefully. It was quite possible that the darker spot of spilled drink was visible now in the lights outside, but she wasn't exactly thinking about it. "What was... what was that?"

Somewhere she knew that it was a rather stupid question. She was aware what it had felt like - a kiss.
Still... the overreaction?

[aestark.livejournal.com]

Tony had kept his gaze level as she approached. His fight of flight mechanism had told him to get as far away from the scene as he could: he could kick himself for it. "Hey," he swallowed a bit as a subtle nervous reaction, not bringing himself to look down towards her just yet. There was no processing the Dr. Pepper spill on her dress, just a great view of a planter full of flowers and cigarette butts.

"I...should probably apologize for that," he lowered his eyes slightly, not enough to take in the ground (he was too proud for that), just enough to avoid her at a new angle. "Bad timing on my part."

[takingouttrash]

Her heart was actually pounding, though she thought it may have been the running... or maybe not.

That was... was...

Tony Stark, as far as she knew, never actually ran away from a woman.
He never avoided Pepper's eyes when he was talking to her.

And he never really apologized. Not like this, not for what she thought he was.

It was just wrong.

"You should apologize. I don't think the fabric will recover from the spilled drink. I don't exactly react perfectly to being startled." She swallowed, then went on. "At least I didn't get any of it on you. The sudden cold is a little unpleasant."

God, I can't go on beating about the bush much...

"I think this is going to be sticky." The dress? The situation?

Take your pick.

[aestark.livejournal.com]

Spill? His eyes were led away to the fabric of her dress and the dark stain the lights of the plaza brought out quite wretchedly. "Oh. Oh," he had started to piece the mishap together. He smoothed his hair back to calm the sporadic activity in his brain. At least he felt like Tony Stark again.

"I believe I said it was bad timing on my part, but you did spill the drink on yourself," he teased if not to break the thickness of the air. Calmly he brushed a strand of her hair back into place before she could tend to it, the active hand cupping her jawline delicately and lingering a moment before it began to slip away. "...You had a...it was in the way."

She could fill in the gaps.

[takingouttrash]

For a few moments, as his entire body reacted to the realization, all she could think of was, it's all right. I made it all right.

Then it dawned on her again that it left them back in the sticky situation they'd 'danced' around since that night on the roof of the Disney Hall.

No. Closer. This time it had definitely been him who set things up - no crazy random happenstances about it. No chance that he was taking advantage of in a spur-of-the-moment decision.

And then thoughts were drowned between the half-hypnotizing look of those dark eyes, seeming to glitter in the moonlight, and the feeling of his hand on her chin. This close, this way, his magnetism, on top of what she'd felt for way too long - was just counterproductive for effective thought processes.

What happened was her taking an unconscious half-step... closer to him. And her blurting the first thing that came up, without fully registering it until it was out in the air around them. "I don't feel like any more drinks. No martini."

... what?

[aestark.livejournal.com]

Disregard everything that had happened: this moment felt strangely fulfilling. It made Pepper seem brand new. He couldn't have traded her for the world (she knew his social security number), and yet a clean slate could do them both some good. "Yeah?" he questioned softly, smiling as their lips drew in close again, his hand slipping around to find the small of her back.

No sooner hand the tips of his fingers touched the fabric a bright flash intervened. Tony was used to the harsh truth of the camera, but admittedly this one had caught him off guard. He leaned away slowly hoping she would follow suit, then smiled, still holding her around the waist for a few more photographs. "I didn't think the movie was that bad, but I can see you all needed some air too." After he put his sunglasses on he directed his attention to the first reporter who questioned his leisure when a hostage situation taking place downtown and another brought up the heroics interfering with the Stark Industries board of directors' views of him. His fists clenched briefly on the tails of his coat and his eyes hardened. He could answer, but his place in the headlines was secured either way. The charming smile had long dissipated. He could only think of two words to excuse himself...two words was as apologetic as he was going to get. Those two words could convey a lot and he had said them for what felt like an eternity. They were formal and sought the approval of being dismissed.

"Miss Potts..."

And he was pushing through the media mass with his own strength, headed for the car.

[takingouttrash]

When the first flash caught Pepper, she only closed her eyes tight for a brief instant, that was all the way she showed whatever surprise and disappointment she felt. After that, she followed his lead automatically, as she had drilled for years now, and her smile for the photographs was as perfect as any in her long-ago modeling career.

She didn't begrudge the two words of farewell. Under the circumstances, it was probably for the better, not humiliating either or both further. She was not, however, best pleased at being left alone to deal with the questions - especially since a few of them actually set her work-related alarms off. She'd need to check a few of those out. On the grounds that being prepared, even on media information, was better than not.

Some of the reporters turned and flocked after To-- Mr. Stark, but enough remained around her to make her too much in the spotlight, and uncomfortable. She muttered a faint, "excuse me" and set off in the direction of her own car.

If this time she didn't step with her heel on somebody's toes, it wasn't for lack of trying.

She didn't drive directly home, though. She parked besides one of the beaches, slipped her shoes off in the car, and walked barefoot across the sand till it was moist under her soles. She stood alone in the dark - well, under the moonlight still, technically - trying to figure out what was going on and what she was going to do about it.

Whatever it was... it was definitely not meant to be. That was her conclusion. The night breeze tugged at her hair and the skirt as she reached her conclusions. No more letting her hair down, so to speak. Sticking to professional had worked for years and years, and though things were different, it would still work.

She'd be at work on time in the morning, crisp and business-like and as willing to criticize and be truthful as the first day when she'd started. And only that. That's what he was paying her for, and whatever he asked, she'd do for him. Professionally. Her feelings... really shouldn't have gotten involved in the first place.

And yet she stood there, on the beach, a while longer, fingers touching her lips absent-mindedly where he'd kissed them.