*EDITED 8/5/2020*

I hope you guys enjoy this one! feel free to request oneshots, as long as there's no strong language or mature themes. Thanks!!

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*takes place in between Iron Man and Iron Man 2*

Pepper had always been a well-organized, down-to-earth kind of person - she respected and understood the difference between strict business and personal matters and had always chosen to commit her life entirely to her work. Which initially had been the right decision. That was until, she was hired as Tony Stark's personal assistant. Then things changed.

It wasn't that Pepper didn't enjoy the job - she knew there were millions of people that would kill to have it - but such a title came with loads of new responsibilities, and lots of new unforeseen problems that Pepper never knew she would need to combat.

One of those problems, being falling in love with your boss (well, 'love' was a strong word. She preferred to think it was a harmless crush, but was it really?).

Pepper hated herself for even considering it . . . she knew she would never have even the slightest chance with Tony, which made their dance and the rather intimate moment they had shared on the balcony a while back even more frustrating.

Tony held a rather . . . strong reputation when it came to women and relationships - they never lasted more than a night (sometimes two if he was partial to their "tactics," as he so pleasantly put it), and Pepper didn't want any part of his frivolous endeavors. Getting involved with Tony Stark was a road long foreseen by heartbreak, crisis, and all-around disaster – all things she could easily evade if she simply smothered these childish feelings.

So, she was perfectly aware of the fact that this - he - wasn't worth her time. But that thought didn't seem to erase the feelings that fluttered around inside her or caused her to blush whenever she saw him, which did nothing but trigger her annoyance.

Sighing, she closed her laptop and slung her purse around her shoulder, before leaving the office to head back to Stark's Malibu mansion.

By the time she had walked through the enormous front entryway, all was quiet around the massive place; the lights were dimmed, and the curtains were drawn, creating a peaceful, relaxing setting.

As much as she would've wanted to plop on the couch and read a book, there was work that needed to be done, as Pepper was still busy putting out the fires that Stark had ignited after the whole Obadiah Stane situation and the entire, "I am Iron Man," fiasco. It was a PR nightmare.

"Tony! Tony!" she called, her voice echoing throughout the walls. She knew that it was probably useless and rather pathetic to be calling out to him from the main floor - the place was massive, and he almost certainly couldn't hear her.

"JARVIS, where is Mr. Stark?"

"Mr. Stark has insisted that he not be disturbed at the moment, Miss Potts," the AI called back to her.

"Well tell him it's important. I need signatures and a report on these documents that I've told him about repeatedly for the last two weeks, and the company's expecting them by tomorrow and will be extremely disappointed if they don't receive feedback."

She sighed. She wasn't going to press Tony any further, as she knew he was probably stressed beyond belief, though he covered it well. He was good at hiding what he was really feeling, but every now and then Pepper was able to see through his snarky comments and sassy comebacks, and she was smart enough to notice when something was bothering the billionaire.

Either way, she wasn't about to barge in on Tony's privacy, for reasons better left unsaid. So, she settled for taking a seat in the living room with her tablet and her paperwork, reading through her new emails and adjusting Tony's schedule for the week to come.

An Hour Later~

It was almost ten-thirty when Pepper heard the doors from the lab slide open, and the sound of stumbling, dragging footsteps floating up the stairway caused her to jump.

She hastily put away her things and snatched up the packet Stark was supposed to have read, before pacing over to the stairway that lead to the laboratory.

If she were honest, she half expected to see Tony and another woman crawling their way up the stairs, practically attacking each other's faces . . . but what she was left with, was something different and new than she had seen from Tony before.

He was drunk, that was evident based on the way he stumbled, and the bags hung around his eyes; but there was something different about him, as if he were determined to do something.

Whether that determination was from the alcohol or not, Pepper hadn't a clue, but all she knew was that she needed him to at least sign the papers, to give some satisfaction to the company interested in making a deal with Stark Industries.

"Tony, listen up I need you to-"

She was cut off as Tony came slamming into her, knocking her clipboard from her hand as it fell to the ground in a flutter of papers and a clack as the metal hit the floor.

She all but screeched as her skin burned at the sudden contact, heart fluttering quietly confined in her chest.

He was drunk. This wasn't anything he'd remember come tomorrow morning, so she quickly heaved him off of her with a not-so-gentle shove.

Relentless, though, was Tony Stark as he swayed on his feet in the aftershocks of being shoved, before regaining his footing and sauntering back over to her.

Knowing she should back up, Pepper went to step backwards but was stopped by familiar, callous hands on the collar of her blouse, his grip so hard his knuckles turned almost a ghastly white. In such close proximity she could smell the distinct odor of alcohol on his breath, combined with the dangerously masculine and familiar smell that she distinguished as Tony's own unique scent. She inhaled deeply.

"Pepper, I need you to know, I need you to know . . . know I need you to . . ." He kept stumbling over his words, his eyes unable to focus in on her face as his drunken body wouldn't allow it.

"Anthony Edward Stark, let me go," she ground out with venom, praying that, albeit drunk, could recognize how serious she was being. She latched onto his wrists and jerked him away from her with force she didn't know she had.

He wasn't hard to shake off, and Pepper straightened her skirt and blouse as the drunken man stumbled backwards, his reaction delayed. "Hey-"

"No, Tony, I'm not listening to your drunk rambles right now. I need you to fill these out-"

"Pepper," he cut her off again, stumbling back towards her. She took a step back. "Listen to me Pep, I need you to listen to me listen to- no wait . . . I mean listen to me to listen to you tell me . . . no . . ."

"Tony, you're drunk," she snapped, starting to get rather annoyed.

"What?" he shot back, looking hurt. "No I'm not. I'm perfectly fine!"

"Sure," she rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "Just get to bed. I'll wake you in the morning to finish this up." She sighed again as she pushed Tony out of the way to gather the papers that had fallen to the floor.

"Pep-"

"Tony, go to bed."

She gasped when he grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the wall, staring her down, his eyes powerful even in his drunken state. His grip wasn't terribly strong, but it was threatening in a way that said, 'you're staying here,' and she knew better than to struggle. He pressed on. "Pepper, I needed to tell you . . . I need you to listen . . . " he paused to clear his throat before going on, trying to focus. "I needed you to know that I appreciate you."

Pepper blinked at her boss, trying to take in his words. What was that supposed to mean? Part of her hoped he'd meant it in a way her heart wanted it to – the way a secret little piece of her wished. The other half of her, however, kept reminding her that he was drunk and was may probably trying to take advantage of her by sweet talking his way to her heart.

Well, it wasn't going to work.

She shut him down with another shove and a few curses and instructed JARVIS to make sure he got straight to bed. The papers could wait. They weren't as important as her emotions.

It wasn't until she had reached her bedroom did the tears start to pool. Refusing to let them fall, Pepper angrily shut her door and putzed around her room with a frantic need to distract herself. This was all so incredibly pathetic. Why on earth should she have any faith that Tony could ever see her differently than he saw the countless other women he'd bedded? What hope did she have that she could be special? It was foolish to assume such a thing.

There was nothing unique about her. She was Tony's assistant, and that was all she'd ever been, all she could ever be. Maybe it's all you're allowing yourself to be.

"Miss Potts, Mr. Stark is approaching," JARVIS informed her.

She tensed at the mention of his name before letting out a long sigh, checking herself in the mirror for any trace of glassy eyes or stray tears.

"Pepper please, you know I love you-" he trailed off into a chuckle at towards the end, and her stomach flipped. Those words hit harder than either of them knew.

"Go away Tony."

"Potts, come on!" he exclaimed dramatically. "Let me in, I can kiss it – you – better."

Anger and frustration stirred in her gut – anger at herself for being this gullible, allowing herself to become this open to her employer; and frustration because of the situation she was in – pinned between a rock and a hard place, unsure of how she was supposed to handle her feelings and cope with the acceptance that she'd never be more than another pretty face. "Tony, please go away," she pleaded finally.

"JARVIS, let me in to see my beautiful assistant," he corrected.

Pepper held her breath as she heard JARVIS explain that she wanted to be left alone, leaping from the bed as she heard Tony override the order and storm through the doors. She was thankful to be facing away from him, as she couldn't stand to see his face right now. There was an odd silence, one that began to worry Pepper.

"Pepper. I'm not drunk," he said suddenly, sounding dead serious and very stern.

Her eyes shot open in shock and she stiffened. After she had fully processed his words, she swiveled around to face him and stared blankly in confusion. "I really don't have time for this," she grumbled.

"I'm seriously not drunk," he insists anyways, eyes never leaving hers.

She stares at him for a moment. "Stop it. You could smell the alcohol on your breath from a mile away."

"I did have a drink. Drink as in singular, not plural."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then why in God's name would you fake being drunk?"

He shrugged, not at all fazed by her words. "I wanted to test my theory."

"Your theory?" she deadpans. "What are you on about?" comes her annoyed hiss, her brain unable to keep track of all the different emotions that were currently clouding her judgement.

"I wanted to see if I was right," he continued, tilting his head at her in what she thought was curiosity. Still, there was something in his eyes that was genuine and sincere, something she was afraid to investigate. "To see if you were really as affected by me as I thought you were. And they say drunk words are sober thoughts, so I thought that if you were under the impression that I was drunk, I could say the things that I..." he paused briefly, breaking eye contact before quickly looking back up to her. "...the things that I wanted to say to see if I was right."

That caught her off guard. He wanted to pretend that he was drunk so he could say things he was too "scared" to say otherwise? Is that what he means?

Pepper spoke, more subtly, "that's horrible to do to someone, Tony. Faking being drunk just to test someone's emotions? Mr. Stark, that's low, even for you. Do you have any idea how you made me feel?"

She wanted him to look guilty or regretful but wasn't too surprised when he didn't. Instead, he lifted an eyebrow as a smirk played at his lips. "I bet it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You blushed. Real hard, Potts. The same beautiful scarlet I see whenever I 'accidentally' touch you. Really Pepper, you didn't think I noticed how flustered you get around me? Pft, I'm not an idiot."

"Pretty close to it," she sniffed, still agitated.

He snorted and came a step closer. "Pepper, I've known you for years. I can read you like a book. You're really not as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are."

"You think so, huh?" she quirks a brow at him.

"Well . . . yeah. From what I can tell, you agree with that."

"Shut up, Mr. Stark."

"Ouch, last names. I must really be in for it."

Pepper winced, a mix of embarrassment and frustration surging through her. Great, now he knows. What was she supposed to do, play it off? There was no use in faking her feelings when he'd already gotten to the bottom of everything. She exhales.

"That wasn't funny at all, Tony. I don't know what you're trying to get at, but I don't find it humoring to play with someone like that."

Another shrug. "Pepper, I meant no harm by it. Just making sure what I was seeing was the real thing."

"Oh yeah, and what are you 'seeing'?"

"Please," he said sarcastically. "I know you have the hots for your boss."

Her heart sank at hearing him finally say it, as if hearing it aloud somehow set everything in stone. "No," she says on instinct. "I don't."

"Pep," he sighed, sounding frustrated as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Please don't act surprised. There's no way you thought that after nearly what – seven? Eight years? I wouldn't notice the not-so-subtle glances at my ass you steal when you think I'm not watching, or the sneaky little touches on my arms and back whenever you're dragging me to bed when I'm drunk out of my mind." Pepper burns bright red; she can feel it.

"I never-"

"Yes you do," he grinned. "Don't deny it." His eyes sparkled as he shrugged. "I guess it's only fair. I have spent a great deal of my time gawking at your more pleasant parts. You have lovely legs, by the way, have I told you that?"

Despite feeling fluttery and even a tad giddy, Pepper frowns. This is exactly the reason she was afraid to say something about any of this in the first place. She should be able to scold him for admitting that he'd openly ogled her for the past decade, but the words fall short. Truth is, she knows how frequent Tony's own glances are, how could she not? It's not like he tried to hide it like she did. The man had no shame, none whatsoever. Which was also what made this so bittersweet.

Pepper wanted Tony to look at her, of course she did. She wanted him to admit to finding her attractive, unable to look away whenever she was in the room. The only problem was, Tony Stark did that to so many girls, looked and talked to them the same way he did her, and that was not what she wanted. In reality, all those flirty compliments about her stunning complexion or her lithe legs and perfect curves meant nothing, because she'd heard it all before.

It's obvious he notices her frown when a similar one appears on his own features, and she instantly misses that billion-dollar smile that could make any girl, or boy for that matter, swoon. He looks about to speak but she beats him to it, taking matters into her own hands once she finally gets her composure.

She straightened her shoulders and tried her best to look and act a whole lot braver than she felt. "I doubt that calling out your personal assistant on her seemingly 'lovely' ladyparts is appropriate," is what she tries, hoping he gets the memo and backs down. Honestly, it's more for her sake than his; Pepper isn't sure how much more she can handle.

"But you're not just my assistant, are you Pepper?" he says with such genuine candor that it terrifies her.

Unsure of how to respond, she shakes her head slowly. "Tony-"

"Come on, Pepper. We can't just keep ignoring all this," he interrupts softly.

"Wha-" is all she can manage, before that same sincere glint is back in his eyes, and what he says next causes those darn butterflies to nearly explode within her chest. The sudden shift from teasing to serious in both his voice and his poise has her thrown for a loop.

"The night I came back from captivity, my first night back in the house..." His voice was gentle with unfamiliar honesty. She knew where this was going; those dark eyes locked on hers and she nearly shrank under the pure weight of his gaze. He continued, "...when you helped me get ready for bed because I could barely get my own shirt off...by the time you'd come back upstairs with the water I'd asked for, you were certain I'd passed out." She could no longer meet his gaze as the memories of that night came flooding back in waves. "You sat there for a while. I know that much. I was half asleep, so my gage of time wasn't the greatest; but I was awake enough to feel it, Pep – the kiss, the gentle touch to my cheek. I remember it like it was yesterday."

Pepper was silent. He knows about that. He knows.

He had remembered correctly. The first night he'd returned from Afghanistan – she'd been tempted to stay in his bed that night, terrified that at any time she could wake up the next day and he would be taken away from her again. Pepper had helped him to bed by choice because he never would've been able to manage on his own, being in the physical state that he was. That had also been the first time she'd seen the ARC reactor, though then wasn't the appropriate time to be asking questions; she was simply glad he was home.

He had asked her for a glass of water after a few exhausted and raspy coughs, but by the time she'd returned he had already fallen asleep, chest fluttering lightly, and arms thrown carelessly across the bed. Or, that's what Pepper had thought.

She had approached him with gentle eyes and a flush brushed across her cheeks. It wouldn't have happened if she had any control over it; but the urge was there, as it always had been – with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, the longing was simply overwhelming, too strong to resist. So, she'd surrendered, if only slightly, allowing herself a moment to just be thankful that he was alive, and he was safe, back in her care.

It had only been light, lingering kiss she placed directly into his hair, nothing more...but it was a kiss; Pepper had never done anything that impulsive before, never before crossed that fine, paper-thin line she'd expertly drawn between them over the past several years. Yet, in the moments after her lips had left those soft, deep brown locks, she couldn't help but reach out and touch, feel the course roughness of his goatee and run the pad of her thumb over the tiny scars that rested solemnly on his skin. His skin had been warm, almost eerily so, as her fingers traced the lines of his face, his jaw, the shell of his ear; perhaps she figured that she'd already broken the rules once, what harm was there in doing it again?

Even sleeping (as she thought he was), he didn't look entirely at peace, and it broke her heart; she shouldn't be shocked. After all, he'd just returned home after three months of torture, abuse, and God knows what else – but it hurt her, to see him like that – so weak, exposed, vulnerable; it was nothing compared to the arrogant, selfish, egotistical playboy she had known only three months ago. It was then that she knew for sure that he had returned an entirely different person.

Pepper never forgot that night; the pain, the relief, the sorrow she felt for this broken, hurting man. In those few moments, they had been more than employer and employee. Nevertheless, she never planned on him ever finding out about it. She was however, eternally grateful that at the very least, his eyes had been closed – she couldn't stand the thought of him knowing how hard she'd been crying.

Pepper didn't notice the hand that rested on hers until he was speaking again, bringing her back to the present as she wrestled with oncoming tears. In all honesty, she didn't know what she was feeling – maybe she wanted it to be shame, but it most certainly wasn't that; there was sadness, that she could be certain, but the PA couldn't piece together what else there was that gave way to this heavy weight in her heart.

He gave her hand a little squeeze as he spoke. "Seeing what I did tonight, and what had happened then, I'm guessing everything I'm implying is hitting pretty close to home." He offers a small smile.

She wants to smile back but can't find it in her. She's sad, really sad, because while she may have some feelings for her boss that go beyond a co-worker relationship, she's almost certain that Tony wouldn't reciprocate...after all, no one could change that much, could they? Besides, the two of them were opposites in every possible aspect – Pepper needed stability while he chose to live life on the wild side; Pepper was careful, meticulous, while on the other end of the spectrum, Tony tended to be reckless and negligent.

Tony Stark doesn't do relationships; Tony Stark doesn't do commitment; and most importantly, Tony Stark doesn't do love. At least not in the ways that mattered.

As she looks at this man – the face she's gotten so used to seeing nearly every day for almost a decade, her heart swells in her chest. She knows their relationship has always been different, the connection they had went beyond a working one. It wasn't love, as she had decided already – but perhaps it was something, something tender. A good friendship, at the very least.

Still, there were so many red flags, so many bumps down a road best left un-walked down, that left Pepper with no other choice than for her relationship with Tony to stay exactly where it was – caught somewhere between longing and mystery of what could be, yet restrained by the barrios and walls between them.

Her words are slow and air on the side of caution; she isn't too sure how to go about this situation. She's flying blindly into uncharted territory. "What does it matter?" she starts. "Even if there was something there, such a relationship is inappropriate for what we are...you're my boss, Tony. Even then, you're not exactly known for your...commitment...with relationships. And we have to face the facts – we're two totally different people, we want different things, we lead different lives. It would never work out."

He looks dejected. That's the first thing she notices. Then he looks offended, almost, but in a sad way – like he knew what she was saying was true and he couldn't bring himself to accept that truth. She expects him to fight back – wants him too, maybe – but he...doesn't.

Then there's a moment they share, where Pepper's sitting there looking deep into those eyes, and Tony's sitting there looking deeply into hers, and it's all raw and moving and she's not sure what she wants to feel. Maybe the man in front of her was complicated, maybe there was still a lot she didn't understand about him, but it could be that there was a reason for all this mystery; and maybe that reason was something she'd want to understand someday. But right now, neither of them was ready for whatever lay untouched between them.

"Maybe you're right," is what he says, and Pepper regrets calling him out for his track record of poor allegiance. Perhaps she's misjudged his character – or at the very least undermined this new and improved version of the formerly narcissistic and entitled man.

He releases her hand and she instantly misses his warmth; tapping his knees, he sighs before standing. "No. You're right, it's probably for the best." He nods several times and meets her gaze for no more than a second before his eyes find the ground and he shuffles his feet.

Pepper stands as well, frowning at the strange person in front of her that no one can seem to really figure out. "Yeah, probably," she smiles sadly, and her heart lurches. She knows this isn't what she wants; god, she wants more than anything to fall into his arms and stay there forever; it would be so easy, he was right here, and after nearly losing him once, was she really willing to waste another chance?

Before she can change her mind, he's bid her goodnight and disappeared from her room, turning down the hall and presumably down to the lab. Pepper swallows the fierce urge to storm out of her room and say what she actually wants to, but when did anyone ever get what they wanted?

Frustrated and angry with herself and at the world that keeps them at arm's length, Pepper not-so-gracefully plops on her bed and turns the TV on, nearly blasting the speakers with how high the volume is.

She doesn't care. She needs to drown out her thoughts.