windsorblue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
windsorblue) wrote2013-07-11 12:24 am
windsorblue) wrote2013-07-11 12:24 am
Entry tags:
(ficlet) Game 6 (Avengers/Iron Man 3 - Tony/Pepper) (PG-13)
I wrote this during the Stanley Cup playoffs and have been too chickenshit to post it. >.>;; Congrats, Blackhawks. We'll get you next year.
"Miss Potts is calling," Jarvis said. "I'm putting her through."
Tony couldn't help but grin a triumphant little grin. Instead of saying hello, he asked, "Isn't this supposed to be a girls weekend? Or do you miss me so much that you just can't stand to go another minute without hearing my voice? It's the second thing, right?"
He heard Pepper sigh quietly. "Listen, I need to ask for a huge favor and I need for this not to become a thing."
"A thing?"
"A thing that I never hear the end of."
"Do I make things into things you never hear the end of? I guess maybe sometimes I do…"
"Sure, let's pretend it's sometimes."
"What's the favor? It won't become a thing, I promise."
"You promise?"
"Absolutely. Swear to God."
"You don't believe in God."
"You know what I mean. What's the favor?"
"We need you to come to Chicago and bail us out."
Tony drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to Back in Black. "Bail you out of what? Some sort of mundane spa filled with dull corporate…"
"Jail," Pepper said flatly. "Not dull corporate jail, just...regular jail."
"You know, I could have sworn you just said jail."
"I did say jail." There was an uncomfortable quiet moment, and then Pepper sighed again. "There was an incident."
"An incident?" Tony asked.
"More like a scuffle," Pepper said.
"A scuffle..."
"Okay, fine - it was a bar fight."
"Are you…" Tony began, stopped, and began again. "Let me make sure I have this right. Are you, Pepper Potts, telling me, Tony Stark, that you, Pepper Potts, were involved in a bar fight? And that you were arrested and incarcerated for said bar fight and are currently, at this very moment, in jail?"
"That is what I'm telling you, yes."
"Huh. This is quite a switch, isn't it?"
"It really is."
"How's it feel to be the naughty one, for once?"
"Grimy, actually."
"Hang on…is it my birthday?" Tony asked.
"It's not your birthday," Pepper replied.
"Because I feel like it might be my birthday," Tony said.
"Your birthday was weeks ago," Pepper said.
"How exactly did your girls weekend end up in a bar fight in Chicago? I thought you were going to some sort of spa thing."
"There was never any spa thing. We came to see the game," Pepper began.
"What game?"
"The LA Kings versus the Chicago Blackhawks."
Tony said nothing.
"Western Conference finals. Game 6."
Again, nothing.
"Playoffs leading up to the Stanley Cup."
"Your girls weekend involved some sort of sportsball match?"
"Not sportsball - hockey."
"Sportsball on ice, then."
"You know Natasha loves hockey."
"I did not know that, actually."
"You should have - you gave her use of your seats at Staples Center when the Kings are playing at home."
"I did?"
"Yes, you told Natasha that whenever she's in town, they're all hers. She's been sharing them with Maria..."
"Listen, how many times do I have to tell you these people's first names are 'Agent'?"
"Tony, nobody likes for their name to be the same as their job title."
"It's very confusing for me, Pepper. I'm trying to maintain some professional relationships here."
Pepper snorted.
"Anyway, that isn't the point. The point is, how did you end up in Chicago being arrested for Natasha and Agent's bar fight over a sportsball on ice game?"
"Because I've been going to games with them. You have four excellent seats at center ice, you know. It's really quite exhilarating to see the games in person."
"Wait. So all the times you've been having a night out with the girls in the last six months or so, you've actually been going to hockey games?"
Pepper paused for a second. "Yes. Yes, I have."
"Huh. Who's been using the fourth ticket?"
"Usually Clint. He doesn't like going to the playoff games though, because Natasha and Maria get a little loud. I think it embarrasses him."
Tony's mouth opened and shut a couple of times. "How come archery boy gets invited to girls night out at the hockey game and I don't?"
"…really? After you just called it 'sportsball on ice', you have to ask why you don't get invited to girls night out at the hockey game?"
"Well, they are my seats."
"You only bought them because you saw Jack Nicholson getting TV time at all the Lakers games and didn't want to be shown up."
"Not true - I have no problem at all with Jack Nicholson and what he does with his money. The man's an American treasure. That DiCaprio kid, though - that kid needs to be taken down a peg or two."
"Are you going to come bail us out or not?"
"Sir," Jarvis put in, "I've notified your pilot to prepare the jet for you."
Tony hung a U-turn on Sepulveda. "I'm headed for the airport right now. Why was there a bar fight?"
"Well, the Kings lost. They're out of the playoffs."
"I see." Tony sped up as the light turned yellow. "Actually, I don't see."
"After they lost, we went for a drink. We were the only people in Kings jerseys in the bar. And possibly the six-block radius surrounding the bar."
"I take it there were words?"
"There were words. Natasha may or may not have called someone a needle-dicked motherfucker in Russian. I'm pretty sure Maria broke someone's nose."
"And you? What did you do?"
"I…am not entirely blameless. Let's leave it at that for now."
"I see. Listen, are you sure it's not my birthday?"
"I assure you, Tony, that it is not your birthday."
"Because I've had a recurring women in prison fantasy that starts out in a very similar fashion…"
"I don't want to hear about this," Pepper said.
"Just tell me this - were any of you strip-searched by a 6-foot tall Swedish model named Greta?"
"I'm not listening to this, and I won't respond to it."
"I mean, I'm not married to the name Greta or anything, but tall and Swedish are pretty much set in stone…"
"Tony, seriously. I have never felt less sexy in my life than I do right now. I'm cold, I'm tired, I've had to pee in front of an audience four times, I haven't had a shower in a day and a half, and there's a cockroach in our cell that's the size of my foot. I'm pretty sure it's sentient."
"Your foot is sentient?"
"The cockroach. Maria's trying to bribe it to steal the key to our cell. It's like the pirate ride at Disneyland, without the adorable robot dog and the fire made out of orange cellophane."
Tony parked the car, turned off the engine, and got out. He clicked the button on the key fob to lock it and slipped the key into his pocket. "I'm getting on the plane as we speak. Try not to let the hardcore stuff start without me."
"Thank you, and don't forget your checkbook."
"Of course not." Tony patted the breast pocket of his jacket and realized the checkbook was still in the car. "I have it right here," he said as he turned back to the car to fetch it. "You have nothing to worry about."
He could almost hear her smile through the phone line. "My hero," she said.
"See you soon," he replied.
It wasn't until well after the plane was in the air that he realized he didn't know which precinct they were being held in.
"Miss Potts is calling," Jarvis said. "I'm putting her through."
Tony couldn't help but grin a triumphant little grin. Instead of saying hello, he asked, "Isn't this supposed to be a girls weekend? Or do you miss me so much that you just can't stand to go another minute without hearing my voice? It's the second thing, right?"
He heard Pepper sigh quietly. "Listen, I need to ask for a huge favor and I need for this not to become a thing."
"A thing?"
"A thing that I never hear the end of."
"Do I make things into things you never hear the end of? I guess maybe sometimes I do…"
"Sure, let's pretend it's sometimes."
"What's the favor? It won't become a thing, I promise."
"You promise?"
"Absolutely. Swear to God."
"You don't believe in God."
"You know what I mean. What's the favor?"
"We need you to come to Chicago and bail us out."
Tony drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to Back in Black. "Bail you out of what? Some sort of mundane spa filled with dull corporate…"
"Jail," Pepper said flatly. "Not dull corporate jail, just...regular jail."
"You know, I could have sworn you just said jail."
"I did say jail." There was an uncomfortable quiet moment, and then Pepper sighed again. "There was an incident."
"An incident?" Tony asked.
"More like a scuffle," Pepper said.
"A scuffle..."
"Okay, fine - it was a bar fight."
"Are you…" Tony began, stopped, and began again. "Let me make sure I have this right. Are you, Pepper Potts, telling me, Tony Stark, that you, Pepper Potts, were involved in a bar fight? And that you were arrested and incarcerated for said bar fight and are currently, at this very moment, in jail?"
"That is what I'm telling you, yes."
"Huh. This is quite a switch, isn't it?"
"It really is."
"How's it feel to be the naughty one, for once?"
"Grimy, actually."
"Hang on…is it my birthday?" Tony asked.
"It's not your birthday," Pepper replied.
"Because I feel like it might be my birthday," Tony said.
"Your birthday was weeks ago," Pepper said.
"How exactly did your girls weekend end up in a bar fight in Chicago? I thought you were going to some sort of spa thing."
"There was never any spa thing. We came to see the game," Pepper began.
"What game?"
"The LA Kings versus the Chicago Blackhawks."
Tony said nothing.
"Western Conference finals. Game 6."
Again, nothing.
"Playoffs leading up to the Stanley Cup."
"Your girls weekend involved some sort of sportsball match?"
"Not sportsball - hockey."
"Sportsball on ice, then."
"You know Natasha loves hockey."
"I did not know that, actually."
"You should have - you gave her use of your seats at Staples Center when the Kings are playing at home."
"I did?"
"Yes, you told Natasha that whenever she's in town, they're all hers. She's been sharing them with Maria..."
"Listen, how many times do I have to tell you these people's first names are 'Agent'?"
"Tony, nobody likes for their name to be the same as their job title."
"It's very confusing for me, Pepper. I'm trying to maintain some professional relationships here."
Pepper snorted.
"Anyway, that isn't the point. The point is, how did you end up in Chicago being arrested for Natasha and Agent's bar fight over a sportsball on ice game?"
"Because I've been going to games with them. You have four excellent seats at center ice, you know. It's really quite exhilarating to see the games in person."
"Wait. So all the times you've been having a night out with the girls in the last six months or so, you've actually been going to hockey games?"
Pepper paused for a second. "Yes. Yes, I have."
"Huh. Who's been using the fourth ticket?"
"Usually Clint. He doesn't like going to the playoff games though, because Natasha and Maria get a little loud. I think it embarrasses him."
Tony's mouth opened and shut a couple of times. "How come archery boy gets invited to girls night out at the hockey game and I don't?"
"…really? After you just called it 'sportsball on ice', you have to ask why you don't get invited to girls night out at the hockey game?"
"Well, they are my seats."
"You only bought them because you saw Jack Nicholson getting TV time at all the Lakers games and didn't want to be shown up."
"Not true - I have no problem at all with Jack Nicholson and what he does with his money. The man's an American treasure. That DiCaprio kid, though - that kid needs to be taken down a peg or two."
"Are you going to come bail us out or not?"
"Sir," Jarvis put in, "I've notified your pilot to prepare the jet for you."
Tony hung a U-turn on Sepulveda. "I'm headed for the airport right now. Why was there a bar fight?"
"Well, the Kings lost. They're out of the playoffs."
"I see." Tony sped up as the light turned yellow. "Actually, I don't see."
"After they lost, we went for a drink. We were the only people in Kings jerseys in the bar. And possibly the six-block radius surrounding the bar."
"I take it there were words?"
"There were words. Natasha may or may not have called someone a needle-dicked motherfucker in Russian. I'm pretty sure Maria broke someone's nose."
"And you? What did you do?"
"I…am not entirely blameless. Let's leave it at that for now."
"I see. Listen, are you sure it's not my birthday?"
"I assure you, Tony, that it is not your birthday."
"Because I've had a recurring women in prison fantasy that starts out in a very similar fashion…"
"I don't want to hear about this," Pepper said.
"Just tell me this - were any of you strip-searched by a 6-foot tall Swedish model named Greta?"
"I'm not listening to this, and I won't respond to it."
"I mean, I'm not married to the name Greta or anything, but tall and Swedish are pretty much set in stone…"
"Tony, seriously. I have never felt less sexy in my life than I do right now. I'm cold, I'm tired, I've had to pee in front of an audience four times, I haven't had a shower in a day and a half, and there's a cockroach in our cell that's the size of my foot. I'm pretty sure it's sentient."
"Your foot is sentient?"
"The cockroach. Maria's trying to bribe it to steal the key to our cell. It's like the pirate ride at Disneyland, without the adorable robot dog and the fire made out of orange cellophane."
Tony parked the car, turned off the engine, and got out. He clicked the button on the key fob to lock it and slipped the key into his pocket. "I'm getting on the plane as we speak. Try not to let the hardcore stuff start without me."
"Thank you, and don't forget your checkbook."
"Of course not." Tony patted the breast pocket of his jacket and realized the checkbook was still in the car. "I have it right here," he said as he turned back to the car to fetch it. "You have nothing to worry about."
He could almost hear her smile through the phone line. "My hero," she said.
"See you soon," he replied.
It wasn't until well after the plane was in the air that he realized he didn't know which precinct they were being held in.
no subject
no subject
no subject