1643/Kidnapping's no Party

Kidnapping's no Party
Date of Scene:	12 May 2020
Location:	Stark Tower: Penthouse
Synopsis:	Hungover Tony makes some declarations about kidnappings and lies to Pepper over breakfast.
Cast of Characters:	Pepper Potts, Tony Stark

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Pepper Potts has posed:
The morning sun streams through the windows, showcasing the view of the City in all it's glory. The Penthouse is situated such that it's the morning sun and evening sun that lights the interior, giving it a warm feeling.

Within now, the main level of the penthouse is clean, the furniture replaced, the bottles of alcohol back in their spots on the shelves, and clothes in dry-cleaning bags lying across the back of said furniture. The soft burble of coffee drifts like music across the open room, and Pepper is there, making breakfast. Scents drift through the air; fresh coffee, eggs, toast, bacon..

Pepper is dressed down; casual jeans that hug her frame with the bottoms rolled up, a pair of dark flats, and a layered camisole and billowy button down shirt. Strawberry blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail with wisps that frame her face. She's got a small holographic screen by her, and the images of the news flickers; it's never far from view.

Tony Stark has posed:
A rough night -- in terms of what was imbibed well before Pepper even became aware that it was a 'party' for one -- means a rougher morning. Tony is not a prince of Asgard, to shake off the night's revelry like so much dust. No, this dust clings, thick in his eyes and brain, like a painful desert storm.

"Deluminate," Tony says curtly from the door to his room, one hand lifted, a palm up to block the pain of the morning.

"That is no longer the voice command used for the lighting," supplies the helpful AI.

"...What did I change it to?" Tony questions.

The AI pauses, as if embarrassed, but sallies forth: "'It is too fucking bright.'"

"Let's revert that."

"Done, sir."

There's a pause, and the windows start to close.

Tony stays by his door a long moment, holding up the doorframe with one hand, with the impact of worlds in his face with that squint. Yuccccck. He's wearing the same thing as last night, predictably. He just rolled out of bed. Still just one sock.

Pepper Potts has posed:
And the best way to combat the morning 'yucks'? To be cheery as all heck.

The sizzle of the eggs and bacon in the pan promise that it'll be cooked to what could be considered perfection; bacon slightly crisp, the eggs over easy so the toast can mop up the best parts. As Pepper begins to plate them, the zombie from the apoco-- Tony begins to emerge from his room, and the room gets a little dimmer as the interior lights come on to continue to provide some illumination to the room. It's something that catches her attention, and as she sets the frying pan aside and turns off the stove, brows rise and a hint of a smile rises, even if her tones hold a tenor of complaint.

"Okay, it's one of the few really nice days out there. The sun is shining, birds are singing.." Her nose wrinkles slightly as she continues, her attention still on the newly emerged Tony, "And you could probably use a dose of Vitamin D."

The holographic news display is closed out, and turning about soon after, Pepper attends to the coffee pot. One cup poured, two.. and set up is now breakfast for two.

Tony Stark has posed:
"Fancy breakfast?" Tony wonders, coming across to the zone behind the couch, looking over at the breakfast with a curious quality, one dark brow lofted. His eyes move over the breakfast, then over Pepper, slightly intent. Tony can have a particularly focused look when his full attention comes onto something, and it's there now. He's hungover, of course, but there's a sharpness: he's seeing her just fine.

But then he looks back to the food again. "I'll go outside when my brain has returned to my skull," Tony promises regarding the vitamin D. He looks over himself, and makes a brief grunt of displeasure at his own disarray. He's cognizant enough to notice he looks ...smushed. That means he'll probably be fine: that he gives a crap.

"Hold that thought. I smell -- and probably taste -- like hot dog water." He can at least change his shirt... He turns and wanders back to his bedroom, yawning, pulling off his shirt as he goes and disappears back there. It only takes a minute to change out of the uncomfortable jeans he slept in and the crushed, sweaty and alcohol-infused shirt. He comes back in what he SHOULD have slept in, dark comfy pants and a faded gray tee. AC/DC.

"Mmmmkay," Tony declares, on re-entry, coming back to plop down in the chair his breakfast is clearly arranged in front of.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Nope," Pepper responds easily. "Bacon, toast, eggs over easy. My boss gave me the day off. Paid." The last word is given with something of an amused smile, but those green eyes.. while the humour does reach them, there's something else that sits back there. Concern. Every move he's making is watched and evaluated for injury and pain.

With the coffee mugs set, Pepper is setting up the bar stools and slides into one easily, taking hold of the handle to take those first tentative sips. "You know, they say that the best hotdogs in the country is right here, boiled in city water." She pauses to let that sink in before she shrugs with a single shoulder lift, "That's what they say in the travel brochures, anyway."

Pepper watches Tony as he retreats back into the bedroom to change clothes before she starts the holographic video of news again as she makes the grand attempt to distract herself.

Once Tony reemerges, Pepper looks up from her viewing, and sets her idle coffee mug down in order to take up knife and fork. The salt cellar and pepper mill sits on the table between them, and she makes prodigious use of the latter before cutting up the egg, allowing the gooey yellow yolk to flow, touching the toast. "I'm not even going to ask if you slept last night," which, of course, is a sneaky way of actually asking. "Because I probably already know the answer." She takes up the toast, ready to dip. There's a pause in her action though, as she looks up and actually looks into his face, into his eyes. There's a moment when she doesn't speak, and her expression is set to.. concern. Not the pitying kind, and certainly not a condescending kind. She's honestly worried, and it shows plainly, even if she's trying to mask it in lighter pleasantries.

"You know, Tony..." she begins..

Tony Stark has posed:
"I've had said 'best hotdogs' on the street corner," Tony reminds, "And I have /opinions/." Which he doesn't seem all that interested into segwaying into, because he instead just scrubs his face with his hand. He needs to shave; there's a scruffiness along the edges of generally perfect goatee. That state he's often in after a big party, before he makes himself more presentable to the world.

Tony looks over the eggs, but goes for bacon, picking it up and chewing on it, other hand wrapping around his coffee mug and drawing it closer, leaving his palm around it loosely for the moment, covering the '#1 Boss!' text beneath dextrous fingers.

"I was unconscious," Tony replies; he knows what she was asking, and doesn't mind giving that report. "But I'm great." Tony is always 'great', even when bleeding from the chest.

Tony chews his bacon, and looks at her directly as she begins to say something. "What's on your mind, Ms. Potts?" Tony asks, tone lightening, while he finally has a drink of coffee.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Great, right," Pepper repeats and exhales in a soft sigh. The piece of toast is still lifted, and before she finishes her statement, she delicately sops up the yolk and takes a bite, all without letting it drip anywhere. Another bite is taken, and with a napkin lifted, she briefly hides the chewing and daubs at the corner of her lips.

Setting it down again, her gaze flickers away and back again, and she gets her slightly tight-lipped, awkward smile, complete with her face scrunching slightly. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad you're back. I know it was hard on you.. and I was terrified for you. I... I absolutely wouldn't let anyone tell me I couldn't go, and I'm not sorry about that." She shakes her head and bites at her bottom lip before continuing,

"But I never, ever want to have to do that again." Have to. "It's not easy, and I'm afraid for you. For the position you're putting yourself in, that you're being put in. I just want to scream at the world and tell them to stop it." Pepper shakes her head and sets her jaw so her cheeks are tight, "But I can't. I don't know how."

Tony Stark has posed:
"Aw, not the first time I've been prime hostage. This was a great upgrade from a cave of terrorists," Tony jokes automatically, with a quick laugh and flash of smile. None of it is funny, though: he's using humor to deflect. It's so immediate and easy, that deflection: keeping anything from actually striking home, past the defenses of shameless fun and apparent unwavering confidence.

But Pepper knows, as some Avengers do, that Tony questions himself constantly, evaluates, and worries if he's doing the right thing or not. Under all of the bravado, there is that. And that's what has made him a hero: more than just the outward explosive show. It's that drive to do the right thing, and to see when change has to happen, like the change of Stark Industries out of weapons of mass destruction. Tony has a heart.

Tony's grin faulters and he stirs his eggs, leaning the elbow on the table. "I know I have to make a change, Pep," Tony says abruptly. He taps his forefinger on the fork handle he's holding, looking at the eggs clinging to it, before he eats them. "I know it too," he says, partially around the eggs. He lifts his brown eyes to meet her gaze, dark brows and masculine lash a little tensed, but focused and aware.

"Somehow I forgot I'm an Avenger, not a... political puppet and Hydra Pinata," Tony jokes, sliding back into the comfort of humor. "But I remember."

Pepper Potts has posed:
"I wasn't all that fond of that, either," Pepper reminds. "You made me cry." Tears of joy. She narrows green eyes, and tries to keep her tones lighter. "I really do hate job hunting." It was a message carried to him from the moment he'd come back from the cave, and the last sign-off message from her when he'd contacted her from the kidnapping.

If there's anyone that can see through most of that, it's the redhead sitting on the opposite side of the table. Here, there's no need to impress; she's seen him in many, many awkward positions, and will probably continue to do so. Given the chance, anyway. He does have a heart, and a soul. It's why she can easily deflect comments about how hard it must be to be Tony's Personal Assistant, and she is wasting her talent.. and some question if he's worth it.

He is.

Nodding at the acknowledgement of needing to change, she gives him that hint of a smile and a soft, airy laughed breath. "I hated that, you know. There was nothing about any of that that I liked. Steve didn't like it either. I could tell by what he wasn't telling me." She shakes her head soon after, adding, "Nick Fury is not allowed to attend any of our dinner parties. None. I'd be afraid of what I'd say to him." The wrath of Pepper!

With that, Pepper dips her toast into the rapidly cooling and congealing yolk and takes another bite before setting the toast aside, to pick up a piece of bacon. With elbows on the table, she pulls it apart piece by piece and pops it into her mouth. Once done chewing, she continues, her tones sounding amused as she teases, "Did you remember you have a board meeting next Thursday? Or is that too much to ask."

Tony Stark has posed:
"SHIELD is pretty high on lies," Tony agrees smoothly. "Originally, you remember the briefings they gave me, how to lie about who Iron Man was? Make up some bodyguard in the suit?" he asks, dryly. Of course she'd remember, she was right there, helping to prep him to give that major lie to the country.

"I'm /done/ with it," Tony says, finding his ground, and making the firm statement. It is as final as his decision to change a weapons factory into making aircraft parts instead. "Set the teams on pivoting out of the lie if you want, but I'm going to come out with the truth," Tony says. He seems to relax more, eating his breakfast more hungrily. The power of personality is coming back with having made some choices. He knew, probably, for days, but is finally forming it, now that he's not drunk off his ass.

"I'll teleconference the board meeting from Vegas," Tony says lightly. He may or may not be joking. But the behavior of partying and having a good time is quite common with the inventor after a spike of heavy stress. It's his way of distracting himself from feeling things about it.

Pepper Potts has posed:
This... this sounds so much like the Tony she knows and... knows, that she's trying not to cry. Again. There's a brightness to her eyes and there rises a breathed laugh as she nods. Relief is etched once again on her face.

"Right." It's the sound of Pepper being given her 'marching orders', as it were. "So my day off is cancelled." She's joking, and the lilt in her tones gives it credence.

When Vegas is mentioned, however, Pepper's brows rise and she asks softly, "Can we not go to Vegas? And by 'we', I mean you? I can give your usual excuses. I still have some I haven't used yet." Pretty impressive given the amount of time she's worked here, for him. "I think," and she pauses before continuing, "you may want to talk to Steve? If anyone can help on their end, you know he would do anything for you."

Shifting the plate with her almost finished egg, Pepper is actually very happy to see an apetite return on Tony, and as he works on his food, she can't help but smile. "If you liked breakfast, I might actually make lunch. But dinner? Dinner, I think I want to go out."

Tony Stark has posed:
Tony smirks, and addresses the ceiling without looking up. There's a 'tone', and the AI is smart enough to know that tone: "When is that meeting I made with Captain Rogers?"

"This evening at eight PM, sir." Tony flares his eyebrows, eyes widening in a cheeky tease at Pepper as he pops a piece of bacon fully into his mouth and grins, chewing it.

"Technically I hadn't planned the Vegas trip yet, so your excuses are safe. I had not entirely decided between that or Monaco," Tony comments. Because he's Tony Stark and can just make up trips off the top of his head like that. Rich people entitlement.

"So if you're going out, that works." Tony took it as her saying she was busy. "Unless I reschedule him." That happens a lot, Tony is musical chairs on rescheduling things all the time, fit to make many people get entirely frustrated. It's sort of an expectation to get rescheduled three times before finally getting Tony pinned in a room for much of anything: unless it's his idea.

"Anyway. I want a shower something awful. Hammer out my calendar, I'll look at it in a bit," Tony requests. There's a flash of charismatic smile, though, before he gets up (taking bacon with him), and swans off towards his shower.