{Chapter: 146 - Shopping with Pepper}
Pepper Potts arrived with her usual grace—efficient, elegant, and composed in heels. Her presence alone carried the weight of experience, and though her expression was businesslike, there was a spark of familiarity in her eyes the moment she saw Aiden.
"Aiden," she said, giving a curt nod, her tone crisp yet warm. "Sorry for the wait. I was busy instructing the workers."
"I was starting to wonder if you were going to make me wait like Stark does," Aiden teased with a grin.
Pepper smirked. "You're not important enough to be stood up for dramatic effect."
Aiden chuckled. "Ouch. That cut deeper than it should've. I think I'm bleeding emotionally."
"Good. Keeps your ego in check," she said as she handed him a digital tablet. "Here's a brief summary of the company I mentioned. Official name: U.S. Department of Damage Control—or Damage Control, Inc. for its private arm. Their record post-Battle of New York was exemplary. They rebuilt Stark Tower's entire lower infrastructure in under five months. Quietly, efficiently, and without a single breach. That's almost a miracle considering Stark's tendency to 'improvise' building specs."
"That sounds very… Stark," Aiden replied. "And you just happened to keep tabs on them?"
"I keep tabs on everyone who might one day clean up after Tony," she said with a faint smile. "Old habit."
Aiden eyed her admiringly, not bothering to hide it. "You know, I'm starting to get really used to having you around, Pepper. And frankly, I'm a little terrified of the day you leave. I might have to retire early. Or cry into my billions."
Pepper laughed—a real laugh, not the polite corporate kind. "You've known me for what, two weeks? Try surviving ten years with Tony Stark before getting sentimental."
"Touché." Aiden raised his hands in surrender. "But still. If I get used to your efficiency, I'll never survive normal assistants again."
Pepper waved off the compliment with a slight roll of her eyes, but there was a subtle blush in her cheeks. "Flattery only gets you so far. You still need to meet the woman who actually runs the business."
"You mean someone besides you?" Aiden quipped.
"No, someone who doesn't pretend she wants to quit every month," Pepper deadpanned as she changed the subject. "Anne Marie Hoag. Operations Director. Runs the Manhattan division of Damage Control. Iron backbone, sharper tongue. She's what happens when you combine a drill sergeant, a Wall Street executive, and a librarian who hates noise."
Aiden laughed again. "Now I'm nervous."
"You should be."
---
Later – Outside the City
At Pepper's suggestion, they skipped Blink's portals this time. Aiden wanted to enjoy the trip, and she wanted something faster and smoother than public transport. So naturally, they flew.
Standing at the edge of the Island, the forest glittering behind them, Aiden manifested an armored suit around her—sleek, smooth, and dark green, tailored to her build and movement.
Pepper blinked, startled by the suit forming so seamlessly around her. "You did this?"
"I dabble," Aiden said smugly. "Dark green's the new red, by the way."
She looked down at the armor, flexing her arms as the plating moved with her. Then, her boots lit with soft energy and she instinctively lifted off the ground a few inches.
"Oh wow... this is way smoother than Tony's first suit," she muttered.
"Don't tell him that," Aiden grinned as he took off into the sky beside her. "He'll cry. And then redesign the world."
---
Manhattan – Fifth Avenue
The Damage Control headquarters was as fortified as it was elegant. The front lobby had the aesthetic of a high-end tech firm and the security of a secret bunker. Clean, modern, and quietly intimidating.
As they entered, heads turned. Pepper in her elegant suit, and Aiden with his calm, deliberate stride. He wore confidence like a tailored coat, and even among Manhattan elites, that meant something.
They took the express elevator to the top floor, where Pepper guided him through tight security. Along the way, she briefed him quietly.
"She's sharp. Don't try to bluff her, Aiden. She eats corporate sharks for breakfast and uses their teeth for bookmarks."
"I was just planning to smile and ask smart questions," he said innocently.
"And flirt?"
"I'm insulted. I never mix business with women who aren't my type—"
"—whatever it is you do?" Pepper raised an eyebrow, finishing for him.
"Exactly."
She laughed under her breath. "You're impossible."
---
Top Floor
Anne Marie Hoag was already standing when they entered, hands folded neatly over a folder labeled Confidential Infrastructure Schematics. She was a tall woman with neatly styled salt-and-pepper hair, smart eyes, and the posture of someone who didn't care about your wealth or connections.
"Ms. Potts," she greeted, offering a firm handshake.
"Ms. Hoag. Thank you for seeing us."
Then, she turned to Aiden. "And you must be the young man everyone's whispering about. Aiden, was it? With the green, the tech, the huge spaceship... and the tendency to improvise."
"Guilty," Aiden said, shaking her hand. "Though I prefer the term 'adaptive genius.'"
Hoag didn't smile. "We've dealt with those before. They usually leave explosions in their wake."
"Only small ones."
"Let's hope you're different."
They sat in the glass conference room with a sweeping view of Manhattan. As Pepper and Marie talked business—cost breakdowns, reconstruction efficiency, materials sourcing, AI-driven logistical support—Aiden observed Hoag closely.
This woman wasn't just competent. She was a strategic powerhouse. Every answer was precise, every report flawless. It wasn't just a job to her. It was purpose. Responsibility. Legacy.
Then Aiden leaned forward and asked the real questions.
"What about proprietary designs? Can we ensure that our classified sections stay off the grid? No AI access, no contractor gossip, no reverse-engineering?"
"Every vault, bunker, and server room we build comes with multi-tiered protections. Physical, digital, and legal," Hoag replied. "We've rebuilt alien-torn ground zeroes without a single data leak. You're not the first man in armor with secrets."
He nodded approvingly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Good answer. I like it," Aiden said, his tone rich with appreciation as he glanced at Pepper.
Pepper Potts, ever the professional in her sleek cream blazer and signature poise, tilted her head at him with an amused smirk. "It's not a dating profile, Aiden," she said dryly, arching a single eyebrow.
He grinned, completely unfazed. "Neither was the Trojan War, but people still fought for the pretty girl."
Pepper gave a short laugh—half exasperated, half entertained. "Please don't compare ancient bloodshed to your sudden admiration of construction ethics."
"Touché," he said with a mock bow, before returning to the subject at hand.
Aiden had only asked a few seemingly routine questions—on the surface, it was about blueprints and structural design: layouts, internal logistics, some hidden access routes. But beneath the surface, his curiosity wasn't casual. He wanted to know exactly how this place was put together—and more importantly—what secrets were baked into its bones. After all, any base, no matter how secure, became vulnerable once you knew where the doors were. And he wasn't the kind of man to walk into a fortress without knowing where the exits were.
To his pleasant surprise, Marie had answered with a clarity that impressed him. Her experience showed not just in the delivery of answers but in the tone—confident, measured, and transparent. It wasn't hard to see how Damage Control had flourished under her command. There were procedures in place: once the construction was completed, the blueprints would be destroyed, and the employees involved would undergo strict vetting to prevent leaks. Nothing is foolproof, of course, but it was as good as any mortal organization could manage in an imperfect world.
Satisfied, Aiden withdrew the faint mental tether he had been using to keep her memory nudged in a cooperative direction. He didn't enjoy using subtle mind control—especially not on people who he was only going to meet one time. With a snap of ethereal will, he sealed the gaps in her awareness, editing her memory just enough so she wouldn't remember being influenced. That was important. Free will mattered.
After the formal contract was signed, ensuring project completion within a month, Aiden stood up and dusted off his coat with flair. "Well, that's enough seriousness for one day."
Pepper rose as well, straightening her blazer. "Where to now?"
Aiden smiled, glancing up at the afternoon sky. "Well, since I got my little field trip out of it, why don't I return the favor? Anything you want to do? Clothes? Jewelry? Galactic artifacts? A pet starwhale?"
Pepper chuckled. "Just some clothes, Aiden. I didn't pack much when I left. I wasn't exactly planning to stay long."
"You wound me, Pepper Potts," he said with an over-the-top gasp, clutching his heart. "Don't tell me you're one of those business goddesses who forgets to accessorize?"
"I am one of those goddesses. The kind who balances corporate empires before breakfast," she replied with a grin, walking beside him.
The two strolled down the bustling sidewalk, eventually dipping into a boutique that radiated taste and elegance. As Pepper sifted through hangers, picking out the kind of clothing that mixed femininity with functionality while also picking long very feminine dresses,
Don't look at Pepper, who is very serious and dignified, but because she often has to deal with business, she has to wear it. In private, Pepper's dress style is very feminine.
Aiden hung back, a quiet observer—until his arms were full of shopping bags.
And he didn't complain once.
When going shopping how can he let a woman carry it? And these things are from Aiden's pockets since he is very grateful to Pepper for her hard work!
Although Aiden's pockets aren't as deep as Tony's for the time being, it is only temporary. What's more, he can earn money from outside this world. After all…he had countless planes to explore.he said as they found a table near the window.
Outside, when she tried to take a few bags from him, he shook his head firmly. "No way. When a woman shops, a gentleman carries. Or at least a man with abs sculpted by time compression training in twelve dimensions does."
Pepper laughed again. "You're so humble."
"Only on Sundays. And during galactic peace negotiations. But today?" He gave her a wink. "I'm full of myself and loving it."
Despite herself, Pepper was having fun. She hadn't laughed this freely in a while, and Aiden—despite his theatrical behavior—had a sincerity about him that made his absurdities charming rather than obnoxious.
Eventually, he pointed toward a sleek café across the plaza. "Coffee shop. You, me, caffeine. A perfect trifecta."
Pepper hesitated. "I haven't had a day like this in a long time. Got a little carried away. Are you sure I'm not boring you?"
Aiden gave her a look that made her pause.
"Pepper," he said, "you could read corporate tax laws aloud and make it sound like poetry. And besides, I'm not made of glass—I'm just worried you might be tired. Those heels? Killer. And don't get me started on those gorgeous, long legs—"
"Stop," she said quickly, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Stopping," he said, raising both hands in surrender. "But for the record, if you were a spy, you'd never have to shoot anyone. Just walk in a room with those legs and a power suit, and everyone would surrender."
She burst into laughter and shook her head. "That was both the worst and the most charming line I've ever heard."
"Thank you. I workshop my material in dreamspace," Aiden said with a smile then the two went to the coffee shop. He said as they found a table near the window.
The waiter just sent the coffee to their table and Aiden was about to speak but suddenly heard a turmoil.
Just as their drinks arrived, a sudden commotion broke out outside. Screams. Shouting. A blur of movement.
Pepper sat up straight, alarmed.
Aiden was already turning, placing his coffee down carefully. He rose, scanning the chaos with an eye honed by battles across worlds.
Through the glass, he spotted him—steel claws lashing out, mechanical arms clanging against the concrete. Doctor Octopus. The infamous Otto Octavius. His thick glasses reflected the sun as he slammed a young man against a wall with brutal force.
Pepper was shocked and the crowd was in a panic.
"Doctor Octopus…" Aiden muttered, his tone laced with curiosity and annoyance. "I thought this was supposed to be my coffee break."
But his eyes caught something else—a flash of red and blue. The man pinned to the wall was Peter Parker, half-unmasked, his head spinning from the blow.
Above him, crouched on the wall like a vulture made of nightmares, was another figure. Inky black. Pulsing. Muscular.
"Venom," Aiden said under his breath, and now he was smiling. "Well, isn't this turning into a family reunion?"
Pepper looked at him, wide-eyed. "Is this normal for your coffee dates?"
"Only on Tuesdays," he sat down again. "Stay inside. This is going to get messy."
******
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