Fingers hover over the keyboard, half-heartedly tapping out an email to some VP about quarterly projections, like it actually matters. But let's face it—no one's buying it, least of all her. The numbers blur on the screen, blending together like the last three dates she tried—and failed—to save. Just when she thinks she's hit rock bottom, Peter's voice cuts through the silence, muffled by the Spider-Man mask he's stubbornly still wearing.
"So, this guy, Mrs. Stark—"
She closes her eyes briefly, trying to summon the patience she's so well known for. Peter doesn't notice. He's too busy talking, his tone more enthusiastic than it has any right to be for someone who should be focused on, well, whatever it is Spider-Man does when he's not swinging from buildings.
"—he's different. I promise. This one's a real catch. His name's Daniel Marks. He's the head of R&D at Oscorp. Super smart, like, so smart, and he's really into the whole sustainable energy thing, just like you. The whole 'save the planet' vibe going on, and not in the cliché way—he actually means it. And, uh, he's got this really nice house in the Hamptons. Very classy, but not in a show-offy way."
Peter pauses—she picks up on it, glancing up from his screen to see if any of this is landing. Pepper keeps her gaze firmly on the email, fingers still hovering, still not typing.
"And, uh, did I mention he's got this amazing reputation? Everyone in the industry respects him. Even Mr. Stark had a lot of good things to say about him. They met a few times at conferences, you know? And he's not married. No weird baggage. No, uh, criminal record, which is important, right?"
Pepper sighs. Peter doesn't understand. She appreciates the effort, really. But the idea of being set up by Peter on a date with the head of R&D at Oscorp, of all places, just feels... wrong.
"Peter," she says, finally tearing her eyes away from the screen to look at him. His mask is pushed up just enough to reveal earnest brown eyes, wide and hopeful, a puppy waiting for approval. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but—"
"But this guy is different," Peter insists, cutting her off. "He's not like the others. He's... solid. You know? He was at that Stark Foundation gala last year—you were amazing by the way, totally inspiring. Not in a weird way, just... with the company."
Pepper can't help the slight curve of her lips at that. It's not the worst compliment she's received, though it's probably the most awkwardly delivered.
Still, the last thing she needs is another doomed date with another supposedly perfect man. "Not yet."
Peter looks like he wants to argue, to convince her with more facts and figures about Daniel Marks and his carbon footprint, but something in her look stops him. He nods, the excitement dimming in his eyes as he pulls the mask back down over his face.
"Okay," he says, quieter now. "But if you change your mind... he really is a good guy."
"Forget about me for a second. You—why don't you start dating?" Pepper suggests.
Peter's eyes widen, and he scrambles with his laptop. "Me? Oh, uh, not like. Or, well, maybe I date. I mean, I've had dates. Just—"
Pepper casts another look his way, unimpressed. "Yeah, right."
"Name's Julia," Peter says, almost offended.
Pepper bites her knuckle, eyeing him with a skeptical face. "I'm gonna need more than that, Peter."
"That's all you get," he replies, waving her off. "If you're not interested in any of my picks, Mrs. Stark, fine. I made a list, and you're blowing me off like that. Totally disrespectful." He dramatically moves away. "Gotta jet—got a thing."
"Wait, no," Pepper says, clearly intrigued. She's never heard a peep about Peter's love life, and it's like, important or something. Peter's standing in the doorway, arms crossed, all suited up. She sighs, leaning in. "Why don't I know her?"
Peter shrugs. "I met her in college."
"You graduated two years ago." Pepper shifts awkwardly. "I'd really like to meet her," tapping her fingers on the table.
"No."
Pepper tries a different approach.
"What? No. You nosy little—whatever you are. Nice try. Where'd you learn to pout like that, anyway?" Peter leans against the doorframe, looking pained. "I mean, thanks, but that's a hard pass. See you later."
"Please," she calls out, her voice a touch louder as he struts out the door, his hips swaying just a bit too enthusiastically.
-
Pepper is at home, working through a pile of emails in her study. The soft light from her desk lamp casts a focused glow on her wrist. She's deep into her tasks when an email from an unfamiliar address catches her eye. The subject line reads: "Macallan Scotch."
She clicks on it and reads the following message:
Subject: Macallan Scotch
From: Daniel Marks
To: Virginia Stark
Date: August 23, 2029
Dear Ms. Stark,
I hope this email finds you well. I wanted to thank you for the bottle of Macallan 18-Year-Old Scotch. It was a very considerate gesture, and I was pleasantly surprised.
If you're interested, I'd love to arrange a meeting to discuss potential collaborations or just have a chat. I have a great deal of respect for your work.
Please let me know if you're available. I'm flexible with timing and would be happy to work around your schedule.
Warm regards,
Daniel Marks
Head of R&D, Oscorp.
Wait, hold up.
Pepper's eyes widen in disbelief.
No, no way. Peter wouldn't do that.
He just wouldn't. Right?
She grabs her phone, hits Peter's name on her recent calls list, and barks into the receiver, "Peter Parker, you and I need to have a conversation. Now."
Peter's voice comes through, slightly breathless. "Ms. Stark? What's going on?"
"Just received an email from Daniel Marks, thanking me for the Macallan."
Peter's voice is defensive but drenched in guilt—yeah, he's earned every bit of that. "I thought it would be a nice gesture, and—"
"A nice gesture?" Pepper snaps. "You've put me in a position where I have to—Peter, this is not okay. I've let you play matchmaker twice. First guy? Fine, he's got great teeth and is a gentleman—bit young, but whatever. Then he's a no-go because he works too much and lacks doctorates. Who cares? And fine, he never called back. Second guy? Manageable. Awful manners, bit of a jerk, but hey, great kisser. I tell you he doesn't open doors, and you say, 'Mrs. Stark, he can't kiss you on the first date.' Really? I'm a grown woman, Peter. And you can't just Parent Trap me into finding Morgan someone she'll absolutely despise anyway. And Oscorp, really? You have any idea of—that could end up public, did you know? Did you even think about the implications?"
"Sorry," Peter's voice takes on a pleading tone. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I thought he'd be a good match, someone who shares your interests."
"Well, your 'help' has landed me in a terrible situation. I need to figure out how to handle this, and it's all because of your well-intentioned meddling."
There's a pause on the line. Peter clears his throat, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I'm really sorry. I didn't think it through. I'll stay out of your personal life from now on."
"Good," Pepper hangs up, her irritation still simmering.
- -
For the next two weeks, Pepper's living in a weird silence that's downright eerie. Peter, who had been a constant presence at Stark Industries and basically lived in her office, has completely ghosted her. He's been showing up at work, Pepper's noticed him checking in—just conveniently avoiding running into her.
The silence in Peter's wake is almost disorienting. It's not just the absence of his constant chatter or his well-intentioned, if sometimes off-target, matchmaking schemes. It's the daily routine he'd woven himself into—his infectious, if occasionally irritating, enthusiasm was like a background hum she'd grown used to. Now, that hum is gone, and the empty left behind makes her realize just how much she relied on his presence.
She responds to Daniel's email at some point, a polished and professional tone, setting up a meeting to explore the potential collaboration he'd mentioned. The correspondence is all business. She chooses a convenient date and time, and Daniel promptly confirms.
The day of the meeting rolls around—four days later, to be exact—and Peter is still MIA. The silence has gotten under Pepper's skin. Morgan has taken to calling it "awkward", and the office staff gives her puzzled looks when she randomly mentions wanting a sweet treat after a particularly grueling debrief with the head of procurement. Sugar? Pepper's about to lose it.
Channeling her zen despite all this... stuff, she dons a navy blue dress that hits just below the knees. Her hair's down, and her makeup is minimal—because she's not trying to impress anyone. She's just trying to look like she's got her act together.
Pepper strides into the restaurant, the one with a nice outdoor patio that she's practically on a first-name basis with. She's had her fair share of dinners here with Morgan and Peter. She takes her place at the reserved table, her eyes darting around the room. As time crawls by, she mentally reviews her checklist—this isn't just any meeting. It's critical for sizing up Daniel Marks as a potential business ally and, if the universe is feeling generous, a candidate for something a bit more personal.
That's it—she's had it. If Peter wants to waste his time arguing with her over something as trivial as being single, fine. She's getting herself a boyfriend—whatever decent candidate crosses her path first. Tony's probably getting a kick out of this episode of her life.
When Daniel arrives, he's every bit the gentleman Peter sold him for. Dressed in a sharp, tailored suit and effortless charisma. His dark hair is nice too, touching his cheekbones. "Ms. Stark, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person," Daniel says, extending a hand as he takes his seat.
"The pleasure's mine, Mr. Marks," Pepper replies, shaking his hand firmly. "Thank you for coming."
As they begin their meal, Daniel's conversation smoothly transitions from professional pleasantries to more personal topics. To Pepper's surprise, he confesses, "Honestly, I wasn't really interested in talking about work tonight. I'm more interested in getting to know you. You're a beautiful woman, and I've admired your work for a long time."
The directness of his compliment is unexpected. She finds herself... blushing slightly. "Well, that's...refreshing," she says, trying to maintain her composure.
He's engaging and respectful, and the chemistry is undeniable. Peter's right—he is impressive. But no amount of credentials or eco-friendly accolades will change the fact that he's not Tony. And that's the problem, isn't it?
Maybe. Any guy could be fine, but none will ever compare to how Tony made her feel, or touch her the way he did. They're not supposed to. The evening unfolds with laughter and glances, and for once, Pepper allows herself to genuinely savor the moment.
But then reality checks in—Morgan's babysitters are the Avengers, and she keeps texting Pepper pictures of Bucky's new knives.
As she heads toward the exit, still relishing the pleasant evening, she spots a familiar face in the corner of the restaurant. Her breath catches—there's Peter, and he's not alone. He's with a blonde who's clearly older. Pepper, who's no stranger to the mirror, knows all about the aging game and how facial serums are more of a "best effort" than a miracle.
But this woman? She's definitely seen some more summers. Just the two of them, looking all cozy. Pepper's biting her lip, Trying to keep—Like, this is no big deal—why should she even care? It's been less than a month, seriously—why is seeing Peter making her heart race and palms sweat? Oh, feeling all kinds of remorse now, are we, Pepper? Next time, maybe remember not everyone has a two-second rebound rate. Not everyone's going to let your snappy attitude slide every time you lose your composure.
Pepper hesitates, caught between strolling over to say hello or making a swift exit. Watching them laugh and enjoy each other's company nudges her toward the latter. Yeah, this isn't the kind of confrontation she needs right now. She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and heads for the door, where Daniel's waiting.
- -
A bouquet of white orchids and deep red roses arrives at Pepper's office. There's a note attached, neatly folded and tucked into the flowers, but it's the sender's name—Daniel M—that catches her attention.
She picks up the note, flipping it open with a manicured nail. "Looking forward to our next meeting. —Daniel." Simple, classy, exactly what she'd expect from a guy like him. Her phone buzzes the second she's slipping the note into her drawer. She glances at the screen—'Peter Parker' flashes across it, and for a second, she thinks maybe she's gotten a little dizzy.
She picks up the call. "Oh, am I finally off the coldest shoulder in the world?"
But what greets her isn't Peter's usual adorable, nervous, and slightly anxious charm. Instead, it's a ragged breath, followed by a fit of coughing.
"Fuck, shit, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Pep."
Her heart skips a beat—no, it's racing now, because Peter's voice sounds like it's coming from a battlefield, not an average spot of the city. "Peter? Where the hell are you?"
More coughing, labored breathing. "I just... wanted to say that."
Panic seizes her, and she's out of her chair before she knows it. "I'm gonna kill you, Peter. Don't do this to me. Where are you? What happened?"
But all she gets is the same delirious, breathless apology. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
"Peter, focus! Tell me where you are, right now!"
A weak whisper, "Don't... worry about it, Pep, I—"
Silence. The kind that makes her blood run cold.
Pepper's hands are a blur as she scrambles through her phone contacts, the panic clawing at her insides. Wilson is the first one she sees, but voicemail is the only response. She dials Rogers with the same desperation, but it ends up the same. Her frustration mounts as she curses under her breath.
The TV in the waiting room hisses, displaying a breaking news alert. The screen flashes with a report about an unidentified man with stab wounds being rushed to Metropolitan Medical Center. My God. Pepper abandons the room and bolts toward the door. Her heels pound on the marble floor as she races through the lobby, ignoring the stares.
Peter's fine—he'll be up and swinging again soon enough. Yes. Pepper pulls a few strings to get him transferred to the compound.
But the adrenaline crash is hitting hard. She's trying to shake off the feeling that she's about to pass out, die from sheer stress.
As she's stumbling out of the hospital, a woman steps into her path. Of course, it's her—the same woman from the restaurant. Her eyes are puffy, and she's clearly been crying, but she manages to look... good? Pepper's eyes narrow. Not this woman, with her perfect mascara run.
Pepper's been crying her eyes out too, but she looks like a goddamn strawberry.
"Excuse me," the woman says, voice shaky. "I saw you talking to the nurse about Peter Parker. I was with him—came in the ambulance. We were at the bank when it happened."
"Oh?"
"I know you two are close," the woman continues.
Pepper takes a breath. "Yeah, you could say that. I arranged for him to be moved to a facility equipped to handle his needs—special care, you know," she says with a vague wave of her hand. "So, you've met him. You're his..."
"Girlfriend," she says effortlessly, comfortable with the term. Maybe it's just Pepper who's feeling judgmental. "Julia Carpenter. It's unfortunate we're meeting like this."
Pepper extends her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Virginia. Peter usually calls me Mrs. Stark. Others go with Pepper—he does, too, occasionally. I mean—" she trails off, mentally face-palming. "Just Pepper is fine."
Julia shakes Pepper's hand with a firm grip. "I know who you are, Ms. Stark. Everyone does. I have a lot of respect for you, especially for what you mean to my Peter."
Oh. Right. Pepper pulls her hand back, feeling a bit off-put by the possessives. "I can take you. I was heading there anyway. He'll be glad to see you once the doctors are finished with him. He's not the best patient, so it might be a while."
"Oh, I know," Julia says, adjusting her bag with a little amused smile. "He can be quite the handful, can't he?"
"Handful," Pepper repeats, hugging her left elbow and feeling a bit silly. "Yeah, I mean, he's narrowly escaped death at least once a month. But I love him, you know?" The confession feels like it's scraping her throat raw. It's the truth, but it's strange to say it out loud. She's never actually said it before—never to him, never to anyone. Peter's one of the few constants left in her life after Tony. He's there for Morgan, showed up during college breaks, and comes to her for minor bandages situations.
He came to her when May died. May had grown so close to her. To Morgan. Happy was distraught.
It absolutely wrecked Peter.
He distanced himself from his old crew, upgraded his wardrobe, and stopped twitching every time he was in front of a camera. And while he might be living more of a social life than Pepper is aware of, he still... stuck around. He's grown into a handsome man, intelligent, and absolutely dorky. They bicker often, absolutely. Morgan even calls him the youngest step-father-brother she knows, and they laugh about it. It's funny. Tony would've find it hilarious. It's not a big deal.
Peter's good—unbelievably good. With those big brown eyes and warm fingertips that linger a little too long when he hands her coffee every day, all while being a complete pain in her ass. Seriously, who spends their entire shift in a mask? And then it hits her. She loves Peter, but no, she's in love with Peter. It's absurd, utterly ridiculous, and she can't believe she... missed it. She's in love with Peter. Of course it's Peter.
Only Pepper would be blind enough to not see it sooner. It's Peter. Peter. Peter. Jesus Christ. Pepper will be sick. She'll need a chair, a sedative, and a public apology for her little jealousy meltdown in front of his concerned girlfriend.
Pepper's breath hitches as the revelation pulses through her. She's in love with Peter. It claws at her insides, makes her head spin. Julia's still standing there, waiting, and Pepper can feel the silence stretching between them, tight and awkward. Before she can figure out what to say, Julia's phone buzzes.
Julia glances at it, then looks up with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Ms. Stark. Should we head out? I'm not sure where to go..."
Pepper blinks. She barely registers the question at first. She has to get a grip. She forces herself to nod, the motion jerky, almost mechanical. "Yeah, yes, we should. I'll have my driver take us."
They start walking, Pepper leading the way through the bustling hospital corridor, her steps brisk. There's a shakiness to them that she can't quite hide.
As they reach the car, Julia gives her a curious glance. "Hang on, you sure you're alright?"
Pepper hesitates, her fingers hovering over the door handle before she pulls it open. "I'm fine," she says, though her voice lacks confidence. She slides into the back seat, taking a steadying breath. "Just a lot on my mind. Shall we go?"
Julia follows suit, settling beside her. There's a beat of silence as the driver starts the car, pulling away from the hospital.
Julia's presence is... upsetting. She's sitting there, looking very composed despite the tears that had stained her cheeks earlier, and Pepper feels a stab of envy. She's got it all together, while Pepper's emotions are... a train wreck.
She barely notices when the car slows to a stop outside the facility. It's only when Julia nudges her gently that she realizes they've arrived. Up they go, and Pepper frowns, catching sight of Steve standing near the entrance upstairs, waiting for them.
A flash of worry surges through her, tightening her chest. Steve strides over, his expression carefully neutral. "Pepper," he greets, but there's a flicker of whatever-is-that in his eyes.
She frowns harder, eyeing him critically.
Steve's face softens, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. "Peter's is fine. You need to stay calm."
She narrows her eyes at him. "I know he's fine, but he's not going to be when I get my hands on him."
Before Steve can respond, Bucky steps up beside him, his lips twitching with amusement. "Was that a threat, Mrs. Stark? Stevie, I say we remove her from the facility."
Pepper rolls her eyes. "Very funny, Barnes," she mutters. "You'll be next if you don't watch it." She clears her throat. "Steve, Bucky," she says, her voice more business now, "this is Julia Carpenter."
Steve steps forward first, extending a hand with that all-American charm. "Nice to meet you, Julia. I'm Steve Rogers."
Julia smiles, shaking his hand. "It's an honor, Mr. Rogers."
"Just Steve is fine," he corrects gently, and Julia nods, appreciative of the warm reception.
Bucky steps up next, giving her a nod and a small, lopsided smile. "Bucky," he says, his voice low and a bit gruff. "Welcome."
Julia laughs softly, clearly at ease. "Thanks, Bucky."
Pepper watches the exchange, her nerves humming, but she forces a polite smile, trying to ignore the twist in her gut. "Julia's Peter's girlfriend," she adds, her voice okay but a little too even. It's meant to be casual, but she's such an awful liar.
Steve's eyes flicker with a hint of surprise, though it's quickly masked with a polite smile. "Ah, Peter's mentioned you before," he says, a slight nod of approval in his tone.
So, everyone else knew, except her.
Bucky raises an eyebrow, glancing between Pepper and Julia with a subtle smirk. "Girlfriend, huh?" he muses, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Pete's been holding out on us."
She sees Julia actually blushing faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I guess he's a little private about these things."
-
"Well, look who's back," is the first thing Pepper says when Peter cracks his eyes open, confusion flickering as he glances between her and Julia. "Thought you were dead, you idiot."
"Yeah, I thought so too. Kinda embarrassing."
"I told you, Peter. I told you—if it's a goodbye call, don't waste it on apologies."
Peter touches the bandages on his bare chest, and she gives him a look.
A lot of muscle there—what you get from swinging around like a monkey all the time. He grimaces. "We'll get to that in a minute. Julia, sweetheart, you look... way better than I do."
Pepper hates it, that ugly, gross feeling that pulses inside her when he says that, when Julia leans in to kiss him. To kiss Peter. Right there, in front of her. She crosses her arms over her stomach as Julia says, "You look great. And yes, they went straight to jail if you're wondering."
"Got them good," Peter says, glancing over at Pepper. She can feel two suns blazing through her cheeks—so hot all of a sudden. "You've met Julia."
"I met Julia," she says matter-of-factly. "Was I not supposed to meet Julia?"
Peter glances at the ceiling—it's not quite an eye roll, but it's dangerously close, and Pepper can feel her heart pounding. "I was going to tell you," he says, "really, I was. But even Ned had some shit to say about it, and I was just waiting for the right time. I know. Julia is older. I know. Julia knows. We really—do have a lot in common."
Quietly defeated and utterly heartbroken, she keeps her face stoic. "Like what?"
Peter exhales heavily. Julia casually puts a hand on his shoulder and says, "Seriously, if you want to tell her, go for it."
"Tell me what?" Pepper demands.
"Julia's a lot like me," Peter says, glancing at Julia as he speaks. "You know Madame Web?"
First, Pepper knows about Madame Web.
Second, she really needs a chair.
-
"Lie down, right now, or I'll send you back to Cho," Pepper threatens. Peter hesitates but then slowly, and with evident reluctance, settles back on the pillow as she tucks the blanket around him. "Good boy."
Peter wrinkles his nose at this, absently touching a strand of her hair—and hah, it sends an immediate shiver down her spine. "I'm a grown man, you know. I could have gone home. I was discharged."
Pepper fluffs the pillow under his head. "Well, then go."
"I can't. There's a crazy woman holding me hostage."
"Dating Madame Web. What's wrong with you?" Pepper mutters more to herself than to anyone else.
"You smell great," Peter says, poking her cheek. She takes a cautious step back, fixing her hair in exasperation. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Still upset about that Daniel guy?"
"No," she bites her lip. "Not really. I actually went out with him the other day."
"I heard," he says, shifting his gaze away. "Morgan mentioned you were out with someone. I put two and two together."
"Could be anyone."
Peter whistles. "Pep, you naughty girl."
Her face flushes. She fumbles for a response, struggling to string together coherent thoughts for a few seconds. "Shut up."
"So, are you dating now?" he prods. "Maybe I should have gone to Julia's. Is your boyfriend the jealous type?"
"Not dating," she says pointedly. As for Daniel? She's not sure, but she's definitely the jealous type. "Don't be silly—go rest. This is your room. I wouldn't let anyone take you out of it."
He shifts around a bit. "You really mean that, Mrs. Stark?"
"Yes, Mr. Parker."
He gives her a small smile. "Pep, I missed you."
Her chest feels... tight, and a little unstoppable. "I missed you too. Don't disappear like that. Talk to me. Yell at me. I don't care."
He shakes his head slightly. "Never," he says, placing a hand on his stomach and closing his eyes. "I'd never yell at you. Come on."
"You better not."
"Now go, crazy woman. I need a nap. Got stabbed."
-
It's barely been a week, and Peter is already back to his usual self—ridiculously recovered. He's seen every bouquet and note Pepper's received lately, and it's driving her up the wall. Watching him stroll around, all oblivious and innocent—it's making Pepper question her own... morals? She's in love with Peter. She wants him close, everywhere—in her office, her home, her life.
Peter's lounging with grapes, headphones on, mask rolled up to his nose, while reviewing a speech Pepper has to give tonight. And Pepper? She's just... staring. There's no other word for it.
Some thoughts are making her see things that weren't there before. Maybe it's stage five of being in love—when the delusion kicks in.
He turns to snatch the highlighter from her desk and locks eyes with her for a moment, ripping off his mask. His hair's a mess. Pepper shuts her eyes, covering her face with a hand. "You okay?" Peter asks.
"Nervous," she blurts out.
"You?" He puts on a shocked tone. "The speech is great. You'll crush it. So, what is it? Daniel's coming by? Is he your plus one?"
A slow, weary growl escapes her throat. "No."
"Who is it, then?" he insists, glancing at her.
"Why do you—" Pepper watches as Peter spins around in his chair. "Why's it so important to you that I date someone?"
The spinning halts, and he keeps his back to her, eyes focused on the speech. "I just want you to be happy."
"Well, I've got Morgan and you. You two make me happy. Why's it so important to you that I date someone, Peter?"
"My God, you're so—"
"A reason. And I mean now."
He sighs, spins around in the chair, and drops the speech onto her desk with a theatrical thump. "Alright, you want a reason?"
"It would really make me happy."
"Oh, I see." He chuckles humorlessly, his tongue brushing his top lip. "You being unavailable."
Pepper twists her lips into a frown. "That's your reason?"
"Well, if you're unavailable, I'll just have to quit obsessing over telling you I'm ridiculously in love with you. And get over it."
Oh.
Pepper blinks.
Um, what?
"Look, I could eventually move on. But I'd still catch myself watching your lips when you talk, and your hair—still the softest thing I would've touched. I'd probably still wish you'd accidentally say my name when you're talking to your new boyfriend. I'd be jealous, sure, and I'd want you to like me more than him. But I'd keep all that to myself. Wouldn't mess things up. You know?"
God.
Come on. How did she not see it?
Pepper is... completely still.
Her stomach's doing backflips, eyes betraying her—traitors, all teary and too sensitive. "You— um, you and Julia."
"We had a thing going. Thought I was in love with her, and it stuck around for a while. But then I came back here, and you were just—awesome and stunning, and I felt like garbage. Total garbage. I was a mess for months. Julia caught on and I tried to explain, but we kept seeing each other anyway. She was a great listener, so we kept hanging out, but I knew it'd end, it was waiting to happen. Last week, after she saw you, she told me to like—stop. Told me that I can't be a scared kid forever. I don't know, Pepper, maybe she's right."
Pepper swallows hard, heartbeat thudding in her ears, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared too."
"Pep." Peter looks up, meeting her gaze.
"It's fine, I'm not asking anything from you."
"Not what I," Pepper stands up, her legs a bit shaky in her heels when she rounds the table to face Peter, still rocking a little in his chair. "You're actually serious about this, Peter?"
He holds up two fingers to his eye in a playful gesture, but Pepper can see that he's nervous—it's in the eyes. "If you're going to have security take me, I can see myself out."
Pepper rakes a hand through her hair, teeth clenched in hesitation. "Go ahead. Touch me."
"What?" Then, "Why?"
"So you're not scared anymore," she says, almost offhandedly, as she undoes a button on her blazer. "Thought this was what you wanted?"
"You—are you, like, a hundred percent sure about this?"
"What, you need a formal invitation or something?"
Peter's hand slides to her hip, pulling her down until she's straddling him, one knee pressed between his legs. He starts with a kiss on her collarbone, and yeah, maybe touch starvation is real because Pepper melts a little too fast. "Well, this is nice."
"You're nice," Peter's breath warms the curve of her neck, and her eyes roll back involuntarily. "And beautiful. I want my hands all over you."
"All over me?"
"Pretty much."
"We can schedule a meeting to discuss it."
"Would a meeting be required for a kiss?"
"That depends, first it depends on which—"
Peter cups the curve of her jaw, and her cheek and finds a kiss to the open of her mouth. Pepper responds with a soft murmur as his mouth warms her, his tongue stroking her slowly into static.
"Found a lid on that chatter of yours."
"Mm-hm," Pepper hums, her eyes closed as Peter's lips brush against hers in gentle pecks. "Keep going."
"Be patient," he says, reaching up to snatch a handful of her ass, giving it a firm enough squeeze that causes Pepper to squirm. "This table's starting to look pretty inviting."