Tony and Natasha's friendship as the gay & lesbian duo I need.
When they meet in IM2 Nat is flirting with Tony for her job and Tony has to pretend to be into it as a cover.
And then later they realize they were both faking it and are like "oh thank god" so now there isn't anything weird between them and they can just bully each other. Queer solidarity 💪. Tony sets Natasha up with Pepper because the only flirting Nat can do is the kind that doesn't matter (aka with men)
Tony: I think I like Steve...
Natasha: Oh he's a pretty good kisser, I approve
Tony: EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME?
Natasha: Don't worry he didn't even grab my ass so he's either a virgin or gay
Maybe 60 and 46, Pepper / Natasha? (Based off our conversation from the other day :P )
“Dance with me.”/“You look like you could use a hug.” introducing: evil businesswoman pepper and her lovely assistant, natasha
Pepper didn’t like dealing with other businesses early in the morning. In fact, she usually didn’t. She did her worst in the mornings, and it was clear to see.
There was a man still lying in his chair when she comes out of the meeting room, and asks for a clean-up crew.
She hates tech start-ups.
Her assistant didn’t last. They never did, although this one had shown promise: he was with the company for five months.
She was sad to see him go, in shock at another mess she had made.
“Maybe you could stop killing other businesses,” Tony tells her while they’re eating lunch. It’s a nice place, where they’re at. They have a good balsamic vinaigrette.
“I could, but then where would the company be?” Pepper asks. “They need to know that I like to be impressed. I want success. That’s how you get what you want.”
Tony makes a face.
He wants to say something, but he can’t. Not when he signed the company over to her, and she’s improved it, been allowed to make her own choices, bring everything up to her standards. She’s put everyone at her heel, and by god has it been satisfying.
But she still needs a new assistant.
-
Natasha Romanoff is not liking the current assignment. Then again, she doesn’t like a lot of SHIELD’s assignments.
She likes the company, really. They’re altruistic as hell and like going through the proper channels to get the proper work done.
But she misses the feeling of getting yourself immersed, getting your hands stained beyond belief.
An assistant.
They want her to be a damned assistant for Stark Industries. Investigate the CEO, figure out what kind of dirt they can dig up and get out.
It’s insufferable. She should be doing high-speed car chases and seducing oil barons to make sure their finances get drained.
She shouldn’t be asking what kind of creamer goes in coffee and what kind of pens they want to be ordered.
But here she is for the interview process, and she’s wearing her best office dress, which is still a bit risky for what an office job is, but she pays everyone else no mind. She taps her heel on the floor.
-
Pepper hates interviewing candidates. But she has to observe who is going to be working with her, who can handle what they’re going to throw at her.
There’s a woman in the middle of it: Natalie Rushman.
She’s been abroad with various companies, used to do some amateur modeling, and is wearing a dress that would probably get her in trouble with HR if Pepper didn’t appreciate it so damn much.
She’s interesting.
Her eyes flash when Pepper asks her how comfortable she is in slightly dangerous situations.
“What, like copy paper being out?” she asks. Pepper laughs.
“Something a touch more dangerous than that, Miss Rushman.”
The interview ends.
Pepper thinks about her through the whole thing.
-
Natasha is excited.
Finally a job where she can use her skills. Where she can do what she needs to do, and it will be wonderful.
Natasha shouldn’t be excited.
But she can’t help herself as she buys four new pairs of shoes and debates on a skirt that she should bring.
After all, she will be getting the job if Ms. Potts’ posture gave any indication.
-
Miss Rushman starts officially on a Wednesday after two days of training. Usually it would take anywhere from one to two weeks. But she’s scarily efficient and has apparently worked with the same kind of things.
Pepper finds that she’s the best assistant she’s ever had. She’s already taken notes on what Pepper does throughout the day, knows when she needs to take a break for a headache, and also knows the extremely specific coffee creamer that she uses.
It would almost terrify her, if she could still get terrified at the mundane details that people could know about you.
But Miss Rushman makes it seem easy, and so she lets it slide. After all, it’s not like Natalie can just leave. She’s signed four different sets of paperwork that basically say if she so much as breathes wrong, Stark Industries gets her soul for eternity.
She’ll be trapped.
Natasha finds that aspect exciting.
She shouldn’t find the act of Pepper Potts holding a letter-opener to a business associate’s neck hot.
It shouldn’t be.
But Pepper got a lovely crimson-red manicure, and she’s smiling so sweetly as she discusses what they agreed upon versus what’s happening.
It takes Natalie Rushman a moment to process.
“Miss Potts?” she interrupts.
Pepper’s head slowly turns. Her strawberry-blonde hair moves smoothly over the letter-opener, over the hand clutched, trying to hold onto a way to live.
“Yes, Miss Rushman?”
“I have some paperwork for you to sign. Regarding the new hospital tech installment.”
“Set them on my right. I’m finishing up some...loose ends.”
Natalie doesn’t react to the loud noise other than a displeased hum and asking the other members in the room if they want lemon-water.
It’s refreshing in the afternoon, and she needs to clean the cabinet behind them anyways.
-
Pepper gets adjusted to her assistant. And Natalie gets adjusted to her life.
She’s comfortable with it. It’s easy, to lean on who she had to be.
It’s a rude wake-up call when she gets lunch with Clint, and he asks how the mission is going.
“You any closer to taking her down?”
She blinks for a moment. Pokes at her cake.
“Nat, come on. You know she can’t keep getting away with this, right?”
“Why does the world need more businessmen?” Natasha murmurs.
Clint stares at her.
“Come on. You told me when I brought you over here that you didn’t want to turn into who they made you into again. Just because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s worth it.”
He’s right.
Of course he is. Clint usually is about this type of thing.
Pepper Potts is...well. Natasha can admire the dedication she takes with her success.
But usual bosses don’t really kill the competition.
Literally.
-
Pepper’s noticed a change in Natalie Rushman.
She doesn’t like it.
She doesn’t watch for as long, doesn’t talk as easily with her anymore.
Tony says maybe all of this terrible shit is catching up with her, her conscience finally clueing her in on the situation.
No, that’s not it. That can’t be it. Not after how she stared at Pepper, not after her smile, not after those nights where they stayed late and both gazed but never said anything.
Natalie is in the breakroom, staring into a coffee mug that has nothing in it.
“You look like you could use a hug,” Pepper says dryly, sidling up to her. She takes a step away.
Hm.
“I’m fine, just a busy day,” Natalie says.
God, she’s not even trying to lie. That’s infuriating.
“Your days are about to get a little bit busier,” she starts in. “I’ve decided to host a little celebration for all of the companies we’ve worked with over this past year. We’re going to have a real ball of a time, and I want you to help plan it. And attend.”
Natasha looks at her. Really looks at her.
Shit.
Pepper’s onto her. She knows something is different, something is off.
And if Natasha’s to get away, she’s still going to have fun toying with her. She’s going to make life hell.
The saying goes that if you can’t handle the heat, get the hell out of the kitchen.
Natasha’s been cooking for a much longer time than Pepper, and she’s known her way around more kitchens than most.
Bring it.
-
Putting together an honest-to-god ball for an eccentric, threatening CEO is fun. It shouldn’t be fun, but it is.
The caterers are scared into arriving early, the invitations are embossed with actual gold, and the music costs way more than it should.
Natasha is having so much fun with it that she completely forgets about her dress.
She’s cursing as she’s tearing through her closet, looking for something that would be remotely appropriate for a ball for a sadistic CEO that she kind of has a crush on.)
There’s a knock at the door.
She rips it open, expecting it to be Clint or Maria to make fun of her, but it’s not.
“Um. Delivery for Miss Rushman?”
Oh.
It’s a midnight blue ballgown, long-sleeved. She never would have chosen it for herself.
The notecard attached said:
Wear this one. I know you best. -Potts
A shiver runs up her spine.
She’s not sure for what reason she’ll assign it to.
But she puts it on, and it fits perfectly. She doesn’t want to think about how much it will cost.
-
Pepper, of course, looks like a dream. Or a nightmare. A terrifyingly beautiful nightmare.
Her dress is burgundy, her lipstick matches. Her hair is loose, not kept in the high ponytail that is customary.
Her eyes are a brilliant blue. They see right through her.
“You look gorgeous, Miss Rushman,” she says, looking her up and down. “As to be expected, of course.”
“Of course,” Natasha murmurs.
The night will be long.
They mingle. Natasha dutifully informs Pepper of who the lesser players on the field are, and fetches drinks.
It’s...odd.
It feels like something big is going to happen. And maybe it will, maybe it won’t.
-
“Dance with me,” Pepper asks her. “Please.”
She’s adding the last part in so that it sounds nice. But it’s a demand all the same.
Natasha takes her hand, and maybe she should be more reserved about it, but she can’t help it.
It’s captivating. It’s dangerous. But she accepts all the same.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Pepper murmurs. “You far outshine every other woman here.”
“Even you?” Natasha asks.
Pepper rolls her eyes, but smiles.
“Obviously, Natasha. Who else would?”
She doesn’t notice that slip-up. Maybe it’s because she’s blown away at their close proximity, maybe it’s because Miss Potts’ perfume is absolutely intoxicating. But she doesn’t notice.
They dance and they talk.
“I’m happy you wore the dress.”
“It’s not like I had anything like it in my closet,” Natasha says as Pepper smiles.
“I figured. Not many host balls anymore.”
“You’re a different sort.”
“I am, aren’t I? But I think you and I are one and the same.”
They’re isolated.
And Natasha realizes it too late. She was a fool.
“You haven’t quit after a year, after everything we’ve been through. Everything that I put you through. A regular person couldn’t do that, could they?”
“You’d be surprised at what people can handle,” Natasha says.
Pepper smiles.
“You and I both know you’re far from an average person...Romanoff.”
She tenses.
“You knew?”
“It’s a relativity new tidbit of knowledge, but having a tech genius as a colleague is...nice.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Reveal you,” Pepper says. “You’re a spy. You make your bread and butter off the fact that no one knows you for very long. And me? Well, you can’t kill me. The only thing that could possibly have an effect on me is if you killed the business. Which you don’t have the infrastructure for.”
“And if I don’t want that? What do I have to do?” Natasha asks.
Secrecy is her safe spot. It’s the only place where she’s ever been secure.
“Stay. Leave that Strategic-Homeland-Whatever, and come with me. Stay with me.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” Natasha says. “Your life and mine are too similar for that.”
“But think of all we could do together,” she says. She brushes a hair back from Natasha’s cheek.
It’s unbearable, that feeling. It’s a feeling that Natasha will spend all her life denying that she’ll chase.
“I can’t.”
Pepper looks at her. It’s a look that’s chilling.
“Very well, Miss Romanoff. Then that will be all.”
Pepper won’t fight her physically. She would lose that way, especially with how well-tailored the dress is on her body.
felicity-smoak-is-my-goddess said: awwwwwwwwwww!! winterhawk and pepper/nat !!! so cutie! HOW DID PEPPER HELP WINTERHAWK GET TOGETHER?!!
(Original post HERE)
@felicity-smoak-is-my-goddess like this:
“James, so glad you could make it.”
Bucky frowned as he closed the door with his foot, handing Pepper a coffee. “You only call me James when you want something from me.”
Pepper shrugged, drinking her coffee. “You’re not wrong. My courier called in sick; I only have the one delivery that needs to be delivered today.”
“And you can’t possibly leave the office?”
Pepper smiled. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”
Bucky blew out a breath. “What’s the package?”
Pepper handed over a white box, tied with a purple ribbon. “Cupcakes. Deliver to the address on the box, come back afterwards. Call me if there’s any problems?”
“Of course,” Bucky looked at the address; not far from here. “Why cupcakes?”
“Oh, you know,” Pepper gestured with the coffee around her office. “Wedding type things.”
“Uh huh,” Bucky walked back to the door. “See you soon.”
“Have fun!”
~
It was two minutes after knocking before the door was answered.
The address was for an apartment building with no working elevator. Bucky wouldn’t have waited, but he heard a dog on the other side, indicating that someone was probably home.
“Huh?”
Bucky did not expect the door to open to such a.... such a... there were no words to describe the beauty who had opened the door.
He looked like he had just woken up; indeed, his tattered purple tracksuit pants and lack of shirt seemed to suggest just that. The dog sat at his feet, looking at Bucky with a tilted head.
“Do I know you?”
Bucky cleared his throat, looking back at the man’s face. He held up the box in front of him. “Hi, I’m here to deliver this?”
“De...” the man looked down at the box. “What?”
The dog got up, trotting back into the apartment. The man squinted at Bucky.
“I didn’t order-” the man stopped when the dog returned, bag in hand. The man picked up the bag, pulling out his phone. He squinted the screen, before looking up at Bucky. “You Bucky Barnes?”
Bucky’s eyes widened. “How?”
The man turned his phone around:
His name is Bucky Barnes. You should talk to him.
Bucky looked at the man. “I guess I’m lacking a name.”
Bucky’s phone vibrated in his pocket; Bucky gestured with the box. “Could I come in? I need another hand.”
Clint stepped back, head tilted as he watched Bucky walk into the apartment. Bucky put the box down on the kitchen counter, before pulling out his phone.
His name is Clint Barton. You should talk to him.
~~~
Are you setting me up on a date Ms Potts?
The lack of reply was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He turned around when he heard the man- Clint, I guess- come in, wearing a shirt and poking at his ear.
“So, hi?” Bucky waved his hand. “My name’s Bucky, though you know that.”
Clint nodded, patting at the dog who was sitting at his side. “And I’m Clint, this is Lucky. Tasha didn’t say why I should be talking to you though?”
“Tasha.... Natasha, dating Pepper?” When Clint nodded, Bucky rolled his eyes. “I do believe we have been set up Clint.”
“Aww, Tasha,” Clint looked down at is feet. “She’s been trying to set me up for about a month now.”
“Huh, Pep’s been doing the same to me...” Bucky trailed off when he met Clint’s eyes. “You don’t think?”
“Knowing them? Probably.”
Bucky pointed at the box. “I got told to deliver those to you. What do you say we eat them over coffee?”
Clint opened the box, staring at the cupcakes. “These are coffee. And, uh, I don’t have any mugs in the place. So if you’re fine sharing from the pot?”
Bucky shrugged a shoudler, leaning on the counter opposite Clint. “I got no problem. This is going to be an interesting story one day, you know?”
Clint turned around from seeting the pot to boil, frowning at Bucky. “Huh?”
“I said this’ll be an interesting tale one day,” Bucky repeated. “Telling people how we met.”
“Oh?” Clint leant on the counter, within reachable distance of Bucky. “Is it now?”
Bucky nodded. “I imagine good things will happen as a result of this.”
“Aw, Tasha doesn’t need more reasons to be perfect,” Clint muttered as he picked up the cupcakes, offering one to Bucky. He held his own out. “But I’m all for good things.”
Bucky tapped his cupcake against Clint’s. “To good things.”
~
“So?”
Bucky rolled his eyes as he kicked Pepper’s door closed, unsurprised to see Natasha also there. “Hello Natasha.”
“Bucky. How was it?”
Bucky shook his head. “You both know how it went.”
“Yes, Clint is excited for the date tonight.” Pepper stood up, hugging Bucky. “Where are you going?”
“Pizza. Coffee.”
Natasha nodded. “Approved.”
Bucky bowed to Natasha. “As always, i live for your approval.”
“And I yours,” Natasha tilted her own head.
Pepper laughed, moving to sit on the arm of Natasha’s chair. “Come now, we have a date to plan.”
Bucky shook his head, moving to lean against Pepper’s desk. “Nope, we’re hearing about yours.”
As Pepper and Natasha talked, Bucky’s phone vibrated.
Iz too erl 2 tx
Bucky frowned at the text. Natasha leant over to see it.
“Is it too early to text,” she deciphered, patting Bucky’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out; Clint has his own unique brand of language.”
65: “Did you do something with your hair” with Tony in any capacity??
Tony had stopped using hair dye. He was tired of the process, hated the constant touch-ups, so he decided to slowly let his hair go.
There was salt-and-pepper at the sideburns, and a little silver glinting in the goatee. He doesn’t think much of it.
It’s only when Natasha returns from a mission that she pauses.
“Did you do something with your hair?” she asks. “There’s gray.”
“It’s just age,” Tony says. “And I didn’t wanna buy hair dye every couple weeks.” Natasha nods, coming up and hugging him.
“I like it. And I missed you. I need chocolate croissants.” Tony grins, hugging back.
“Luckily, I have some.” Natasha and Tony are found at the kitchen island, discussing dyeing Nat’s hair either a deeper red or maybe going for a brown. Bucky voted a deeper red, while Clint voted brown. Pepper superseded them by greeting her girlfriend with a kiss and a vote for a darker red.
“Running a bar for that Stark heir will land you nothing but trouble,” Pepper’s mum had told her as she walked out the door five years ago. And Pepper hadn’t had a reason to doubt her decision since.
And then Prohibition happened. And the bar hadn’t collapsed; rather, it had repurposed as a coffee house, and become a popular meeting place. It’s proximity to the Opera House certainly helped in matters.
The Iron Bar made sure to be open both before and after performances, something few other places did. They catered for both audiences, and performers.
One am, and the Russian Ballet Company was making their way into the Iron Bar. Pepper knew they had spent the two hours between the end of the performance and coming here drinking their alcohol, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not when she had her eyes on one member of that company in particular.
The red haired beauty had caught her eye the first time the company had come in, just over a month ago. The pair had quickly worked up a rapport, and Pepper looked forward to each evening she got to spend in the woman’s company.
This evening, she could not see the tell tale shade of red among the crowd. Slightly disappointed, she went about filling the company’s orders.
“Busy night?”
Pepper looked up; a blonde woman was smiling at her across the bar.
Pepper shrugged a shoulder, sliding a coffee to a waiter. “Usually is when the company rolls in. What’ll you have?”
The woman leant forward on the counter, very obviously running her eyes over Pepper’s body. “You.”
“I hate to say,” Pepper spoke as she came to stand across from the woman. “But I’m already taken.”
“Oh? She must be a beauty, to have your heart.”
Pepper nodded. “Oh yes. Her hair, red as the flame. She’s the principal dancer, you know.”
“Ah, I know her,” the woman said, reaching a hand out to run over Pepper’s. “And I happen to know that she feels the same for you.”
Pepper smiled, leaning back to turn to her assistant. “Do you think you can handle things without me?”
At the nod, Pepper turned to the woman with a smile, holding out a hand. “My apartment is upstairs.”
“Perfect.”
Pepper and the woman walked upstairs arm in arm. Inside Pepper’s room, she held one arm against the door, the other in the woman’s hair. “Just one request?”
“Name it.”
Pepper leaned in, whispering in the woman’s ear. “Lose the wig, Nat.”
