One of the generally
accepted truths of working for Anthony Edward Stark, Pepper thought,
was that he generally didn’t do things on a small scale.
Often that was a pain, but now and then--as in the now right
now—it was a lot of fun.
She sat next to him on the upholstered sofa in the penthouse suite,
looking out over the bay and towards Kowloon, where the sky was
periodically alight with pinwheels and stars and blazing sparkles of
green, white and red. Every time another round of fireworks went
skyward Pepper smiled, delighted with the garden of glittery glints in
the night.
“I,” Tony announced, “Am a
tiger.”
“I,” Pepper replied, “Am not
surprised.”
“It’s true, year of the tiger,” he warmed
to the topic, looking over at her. “Makes me a dynamic
leader, charismatic charmer and all-around stud. Ask anyone in this
city.”
“Since I don’t speak Chinese, I’ll go
with the official description,” Pepper murmured, and tapped
on her BlackBerry. “Ah yes—Tony the Tiger. Care to
hear your characteristics?”
“Throw them accolades at me,” Tony murmured,
leaning back on the sofa.
“Hmmmm. Unpredictable, rebellious, colorful, powerful,
passionate, daring, impulsive, vigorous, stimulating, sincere,
affectionate, humanitarian, generous. Can also be restless,
reckless, impatient, quick-tempered, obstinate, selfish.”
He winced a little. “Okay, yes, but I’m getting
better—So what are you,
Potts? I’m thinking year of dah Wabbit . . . cute, fluffy,
sweeeeet little tail . . .”
“No, I’m a bitch,” Pepper told him, just
to see him do a double take.
Tony laughed, his teeth very white in the semi-darkness of the suite.
“Now, now, Pepper, mustn’t be so hard on
yourself.”
“Year of the Dog,” she sighed. “Not the
best sign for a woman, you have to admit.”
“Yeah, that could be rough,” Tony admitted, his
smile twisting. “Neither dog nor bitch fit you in the
slightest. Characteristics, please.”
“Honest, intelligent, straightforward, loyal, sense of
justice and fair play, attractive, amicable, unpretentious, sociable,
open-minded, idealistic, moralistic, practical, affectionate, in a
word, dogged,” Pepper told him, and added softly,
“can also be cynical, lazy, cold, judgmental, pessimistic,
worrier, stubborn, quarrelsome.”
“Nailed you.
All but the lazy and cold parts, anyway,” Tony smirked.
“Speaking of nailing you---”
“I’m a dog; I bite,” she warned him, a
twinkle in her eye as he slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“That’s okay, I’m a tiger; I claw and
growl and generally get my way because I’m bigger and meaner
than you.”
“Whereas I just nip at your heels and herd you
around.”
“Precisely. And that’s what makes us soooo
compatible,” he murmured, brushing his mouth against hers.
“Want to make some fireworks of our own?”
“Woof,” Pepper whispered softly, her arms going
around him.
end