What's Up, Doc?
Jun. 10th, 2017 11:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Iron Man Genderbend (Iron Maiden)
Summary: Pepper and Obie are enough to overrule Tony's desire to avoid the doctor following the events in Afghanistan.
Word Count: 1379
Rating: Gen, brief mention (at the beginning) of possible sexual assault (avoided in March of the Iron Maiden in which the threat was there but wasn't actually followed through on), thought I'd mention anyway so readers can make an informed decision
Pepper bites his tongue and reminds himself of his resolve to pretend he’s not here. It’s less embarrassing this way. Usually, he’d insist Tony was a big girl and could handle it on her own, but right now he’s not sure if he could trust her to tell him everything or not just slip out once his back is turned.
She sighs. “Look, doc, I’ve been celibate for…months.”
He notices the hesitation, as does the doctor. That’s the one consistent thing he’s noticed, besides the fact that her usual manic tendencies have been amped up to eleven, is that her sense of time was completely lost. Of course, it’s not unlike Stark to be clueless—she’s accidentally stayed days working in the lab with no breaks if there’s no one to remind her to come up for air. Jarvis doesn’t count, mostly because she has a good opportunity to ignore or turn off the AI if it’s saying something she doesn’t like. People are harder to buy off or mute, assuming they like Tony, which is sometimes a question. Well, like and care about her well-being.
“It sucks,” she continues. “I don’t think I’ve been dry this long since I gave sex up for Lent in ’05.”
The doctor reacts with surprise, probably wondering about religion, since Pepper can guess with some certainty that they’ve never talked about it. He carefully doesn’t react. It’s entire possible that it was a whim, or Tony’s messing with them to see how they’ll react.
“In this case, I think you should be grateful of that fact,” the doctor says dryly, which—well, humor is the only way to deal with Tony on an extended basis and retain some shreds of sanity.
“I’m not,” she says bluntly. “The whole thing was awful.” She pauses for a few moments. “I guess it could’ve been worse.”
The doctor nods carefully, and then stares at the glowing circle nestled between Stark’s breasts with as much interest as she had been previously concealing. “Now, what is that?”
“That,” Tony answers, prickly, “…is my night-light.”
“Tony,” Pepper warns, the only word he’s spoken this whole time, and Stark—the hurricane herself—flinches on her usual rampage. More gently, Potts explains, “What if you’re unconscious, or something? Or you end up in the hospital?”
Tony manages to produce the most put-upon sigh he’s ever heard her produce—and having worked for her for seven years, Pepper knows that’s a feat. “Fine,” she acknowledges and then yanks off her shirt in one smooth motion. She chuckles a little at his scandalized blush, but he swallows down his pride. At least she’s wearing a bra. Maybe it’s mean but if embarrassing him is the only way she can deal with her nerves? It became part of her job description some time ago. The doctor looks a bit startled but she, too, has had to get used to Stark’s eccentricities.
“Remember the RPG I designed a few years back?” she asks, voice horribly flat and emotionless. Like she’s a zombie. Like she’s dead. “I got to personally product test.”
He tries not to, but he can’t stop the gasp.
Tony glances in his direction, but she’s not really looking at him. She’s not seeing Pepper. “That shrapnel thing really works. Goes straight through a bulletproof vest.”
“Stark, you designed the thing that could kill you?” the doctor asks, trying desperately to keep her voice flat and professional.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Tony glances at her hand with a look of confusion, as if she’s wondering why the hell she doesn’t have a glass with some type of alcohol in it.
It’s times like this when Pepper wishes he didn’t have as good a memory as he does. When he wishes he hadn’t actually looked at some of the product descriptions. He’d avoid doing it entirely, but sometimes he has to deal with clients complaining about merchandise (usually trying to get a discount, since faulty shipments are rare). “T-Tony. Isn’t the shrapnel…heart-seeking?”
“I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for…” she taps the glowing thing in her chest. “It’s powering an electromagnet.”
The two stare in horror for a few seconds too long, because her face twists in anger. “Yeah, okay, go on, stare. Tony Stark’s now the circus freak everyone always said she was. Should I do a strip-tease, too, or—”
Pepper can’t stand it. The announcement suddenly makes a lot more sense. Horrifying sense.
He steps forward and pulls Tony into a hug. She flails, trying to get out of the embrace, but Pepper won’t let her, because despite it all his boss is human and has a heart and never deserved any of this. “You also designed the thing that saved your life,” he mutters as reassuringly as he can, rubbing her back. Usually, it’d be awkward—she’s half undressed, after all—but he doesn’t let himself feel awkward, because she needs him, and if that’s not his job description or, you know, his general sense of decency as a human being, he doesn’t know what is. “Don’t let Obi guilt trip you. You’ll take the company and forge something new out of it. Driving us all crazy along the way, I’m sure.”
He hears her breathing stutter before she buries her head in his shoulder. There’s a wetness there as she shakes in his arms, but for what’s left of her pride, he pretends he doesn’t notice.
Usually, he hates how short he is, to the point his shoes have extra height added, just for good measure. Now, though…now he feels like it’s perfect. It’s what he needs to be there for Tony, and he’s always cared.
“A part of me enjoyed it,” Tony gasps into his shirt. “Once I was over the whole fear of death thing, here I was, I was McGuyver, I could do something Dad never did, I could save myself with scraps in a cave. So many died because of my ego…”
“You’ve always enjoyed a challenge. You’re at your best when you’ve been procrastinating and you’re on the edge and it’s do or die time,” he whispers reassuringly, kissing her on the forehead. “Don’t let anyone tell you how you’re feeling is wrong. They haven’t gone through what you have. They don’t know what it’s like.” He’s not sure what else to say. Until he finds the words. “You did what you had to. To survive. And I’m glad you did. You aren’t responsible for what they did.” And then he remembers something else, something that’ll make her smile at least. “If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. You’re hardly the only government contractor. Maybe it would’ve been Hammer.”
She chuckles wetly into his shirt and backs off, wiping a knuckle at either eye. “Wish it had been. They would’ve blown themselves up. Shoddy worksmanship.”
“And maybe you can point out where Hammer goes wrong to Rhodey. Not like a consulting gig or anything,” he corrects when she begins to look alarmed. “Just…I’m sure she doesn’t understand what’s going through your head right now. Like that’s anything new. But still—remember those parachutes he undercut the bid on?”
“The ones that won’t deploy?” The instinctual recoil is being replaced by something else—true thoughtfulness. It’s a rare enough look on Tony, but it’s worth it. Because if nothing else, giving her a project, something to fix, something to make her feel in control again? And something to help her not drive one of her oldest friends away, just because Jaime doesn’t understand what’s going on, because it’s different to be a soldier and a civilian in a war zone? It’ll help. It won’t fix anything, but it’ll help. “Serious design flaw.”
“You could say that again,” Pepper mutters, picking up her shirt and handing it to her.
“Serious design flaw,” she says with an impish grin, and it’s enough hope that, yeah, Tony went through some awful things, but she’s still in there, somewhere.
Iron Man Genderbend (Iron Maiden)
Summary: Pepper and Obie are enough to overrule Tony's desire to avoid the doctor following the events in Afghanistan.
Word Count: 1379
Rating: Gen, brief mention (at the beginning) of possible sexual assault (avoided in March of the Iron Maiden in which the threat was there but wasn't actually followed through on), thought I'd mention anyway so readers can make an informed decision
The doctor insists on checking to make sure Tony wasn’t raped. Pepper keeps his eyes firmly fixed on her face, which is why he notices when she rolls her eyes at the doctor’s shock. “Tony Stark tells the truth. You could make that a headline,” she snarks.
Pepper bites his tongue and reminds himself of his resolve to pretend he’s not here. It’s less embarrassing this way. Usually, he’d insist Tony was a big girl and could handle it on her own, but right now he’s not sure if he could trust her to tell him everything or not just slip out once his back is turned.
She sighs. “Look, doc, I’ve been celibate for…months.”
He notices the hesitation, as does the doctor. That’s the one consistent thing he’s noticed, besides the fact that her usual manic tendencies have been amped up to eleven, is that her sense of time was completely lost. Of course, it’s not unlike Stark to be clueless—she’s accidentally stayed days working in the lab with no breaks if there’s no one to remind her to come up for air. Jarvis doesn’t count, mostly because she has a good opportunity to ignore or turn off the AI if it’s saying something she doesn’t like. People are harder to buy off or mute, assuming they like Tony, which is sometimes a question. Well, like and care about her well-being.
“It sucks,” she continues. “I don’t think I’ve been dry this long since I gave sex up for Lent in ’05.”
The doctor reacts with surprise, probably wondering about religion, since Pepper can guess with some certainty that they’ve never talked about it. He carefully doesn’t react. It’s entire possible that it was a whim, or Tony’s messing with them to see how they’ll react.
“In this case, I think you should be grateful of that fact,” the doctor says dryly, which—well, humor is the only way to deal with Tony on an extended basis and retain some shreds of sanity.
“I’m not,” she says bluntly. “The whole thing was awful.” She pauses for a few moments. “I guess it could’ve been worse.”
The doctor nods carefully, and then stares at the glowing circle nestled between Stark’s breasts with as much interest as she had been previously concealing. “Now, what is that?”
“That,” Tony answers, prickly, “…is my night-light.”
“Tony,” Pepper warns, the only word he’s spoken this whole time, and Stark—the hurricane herself—flinches on her usual rampage. More gently, Potts explains, “What if you’re unconscious, or something? Or you end up in the hospital?”
Tony manages to produce the most put-upon sigh he’s ever heard her produce—and having worked for her for seven years, Pepper knows that’s a feat. “Fine,” she acknowledges and then yanks off her shirt in one smooth motion. She chuckles a little at his scandalized blush, but he swallows down his pride. At least she’s wearing a bra. Maybe it’s mean but if embarrassing him is the only way she can deal with her nerves? It became part of her job description some time ago. The doctor looks a bit startled but she, too, has had to get used to Stark’s eccentricities.
“Remember the RPG I designed a few years back?” she asks, voice horribly flat and emotionless. Like she’s a zombie. Like she’s dead. “I got to personally product test.”
He tries not to, but he can’t stop the gasp.
Tony glances in his direction, but she’s not really looking at him. She’s not seeing Pepper. “That shrapnel thing really works. Goes straight through a bulletproof vest.”
“Stark, you designed the thing that could kill you?” the doctor asks, trying desperately to keep her voice flat and professional.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Tony glances at her hand with a look of confusion, as if she’s wondering why the hell she doesn’t have a glass with some type of alcohol in it.
It’s times like this when Pepper wishes he didn’t have as good a memory as he does. When he wishes he hadn’t actually looked at some of the product descriptions. He’d avoid doing it entirely, but sometimes he has to deal with clients complaining about merchandise (usually trying to get a discount, since faulty shipments are rare). “T-Tony. Isn’t the shrapnel…heart-seeking?”
“I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for…” she taps the glowing thing in her chest. “It’s powering an electromagnet.”
The two stare in horror for a few seconds too long, because her face twists in anger. “Yeah, okay, go on, stare. Tony Stark’s now the circus freak everyone always said she was. Should I do a strip-tease, too, or—”
Pepper can’t stand it. The announcement suddenly makes a lot more sense. Horrifying sense.
He steps forward and pulls Tony into a hug. She flails, trying to get out of the embrace, but Pepper won’t let her, because despite it all his boss is human and has a heart and never deserved any of this. “You also designed the thing that saved your life,” he mutters as reassuringly as he can, rubbing her back. Usually, it’d be awkward—she’s half undressed, after all—but he doesn’t let himself feel awkward, because she needs him, and if that’s not his job description or, you know, his general sense of decency as a human being, he doesn’t know what is. “Don’t let Obi guilt trip you. You’ll take the company and forge something new out of it. Driving us all crazy along the way, I’m sure.”
He hears her breathing stutter before she buries her head in his shoulder. There’s a wetness there as she shakes in his arms, but for what’s left of her pride, he pretends he doesn’t notice.
Usually, he hates how short he is, to the point his shoes have extra height added, just for good measure. Now, though…now he feels like it’s perfect. It’s what he needs to be there for Tony, and he’s always cared.
“A part of me enjoyed it,” Tony gasps into his shirt. “Once I was over the whole fear of death thing, here I was, I was McGuyver, I could do something Dad never did, I could save myself with scraps in a cave. So many died because of my ego…”
“You’ve always enjoyed a challenge. You’re at your best when you’ve been procrastinating and you’re on the edge and it’s do or die time,” he whispers reassuringly, kissing her on the forehead. “Don’t let anyone tell you how you’re feeling is wrong. They haven’t gone through what you have. They don’t know what it’s like.” He’s not sure what else to say. Until he finds the words. “You did what you had to. To survive. And I’m glad you did. You aren’t responsible for what they did.” And then he remembers something else, something that’ll make her smile at least. “If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. You’re hardly the only government contractor. Maybe it would’ve been Hammer.”
She chuckles wetly into his shirt and backs off, wiping a knuckle at either eye. “Wish it had been. They would’ve blown themselves up. Shoddy worksmanship.”
“And maybe you can point out where Hammer goes wrong to Rhodey. Not like a consulting gig or anything,” he corrects when she begins to look alarmed. “Just…I’m sure she doesn’t understand what’s going through your head right now. Like that’s anything new. But still—remember those parachutes he undercut the bid on?”
“The ones that won’t deploy?” The instinctual recoil is being replaced by something else—true thoughtfulness. It’s a rare enough look on Tony, but it’s worth it. Because if nothing else, giving her a project, something to fix, something to make her feel in control again? And something to help her not drive one of her oldest friends away, just because Jaime doesn’t understand what’s going on, because it’s different to be a soldier and a civilian in a war zone? It’ll help. It won’t fix anything, but it’ll help. “Serious design flaw.”
“You could say that again,” Pepper mutters, picking up her shirt and handing it to her.
“Serious design flaw,” she says with an impish grin, and it’s enough hope that, yeah, Tony went through some awful things, but she’s still in there, somewhere.
