We step out of the elevator, and the soft music from the upper floor washes over us the moment the doors open.
The room is wide, modern, with floor-to-ceiling glass and an ocean view that almost looks like a hologram.
"Happy," Tony says, turning around barely a step into the room. "A little privacy, yeah?"
The bodyguard frowns.
"Are you sure about that, Tony?" he asks, unmoving. "If something happens, I—"
"If it makes you feel any better," Tony replies, raising a brow, "you can wait in the other room. That one."He points at a side door.
Happy snorts but moves. Reluctantly. Without taking his eyes off me until he crosses the threshold. I can almost feel the unspoken "if you do anything, you're dead."
Tony just makes a gesture like he's hanging an annoying coat on an invisible rack.
"Good. Now that mama eagle left the nest…"He waves toward the sofa facing the ocean.
"Take a seat, kid. Want something to eat? I'm starving."
"Thanks… I guess," I said, sitting down.
Instantly, a small assistant robot appeared with a tray. Appetizers. Mini bruschettas, brie cheese, serrano ham.
I took one. It was really good. Tony grabbed another, but instead of sitting, he paced back and forth like he needed a stage and spotlight to complete the scene.
"Like I said earlier," Tony began, pointing at me with the bruschetta as if it were a magic wand, "I'm not letting you work with me for free. I'm not that kind of billionaire. Bad for the image."
I ate peacefully while he kept talking, more hyped by the second.
"I offered Banner a lost island in the Atlantic. Private lab, zero paparazzi, zero idiot soldiers, zero stress. See? That's thinking about your employee. That's being a damn good boss."
I couldn't help raising a brow. "Employee." Sure. I'm sure Banner was thrilled.
Tony kept pacing, making me nervous with how often he pretended he was about to eat the bruschetta only to point it at me again.
"And since I don't know you that well, I went with the fairest option: absolute freedom. You can ask for whatever you want. Thousands of dollars. Land. Yachts. A full scholarship to the university I'm opening in a few months. Beautiful women. And when I say beautiful, I mean magazine-cover level. You can pick all of that together if you want. I'm Tony Stark! Getting it is easy."
I stayed quiet for a few seconds. Not because I was tempted, but because I was trying to figure out if he actually believed that's what I wanted or if he just enjoyed listening to himself talk.
I was about to answer when Jarvis's voice cut in.
"Sir," the AI said with polite firmness, "you have an urgent call from Director Fury."
Tony rolled his eyes dramatically.
"I'm busy, Jarvis. Tell him to leave a message. I'll call him later."
"I wouldn't recommend that, sir," Jarvis replied. "Judging by his tone… ignoring him would be unwise."
Tony sighed like he'd been asked for a kidney.
"Kid, excuse me a second," he said, already walking away. "Jarvis, send the cyclops to my phone—if he tells me where he hid the treasure, I don't want anyone else hearing."
I was left alone in that huge room, with the ocean stretched before me and an appetizer half-eaten in my hand.
I took a deep breath.
Tony Stark was… exhausting.
Even so, I took the chance to finish every last crumb of the appetizer. Stark may be unbearable, but his chef… now that's a genius.
I was about to get comfortable on the couch when I heard footsteps coming down the side staircase.
I looked up.
Ah. Perfect.
A blonde supermodel came down wrapped only in a white comforter, clearly just rolling out of Tony's bed. I really don't want drama with naked strangers in someone else's house, so I freeze into the stiffest posture possible. Arm straight, back straight, visor lowered—if I don't move, she won't see me.
She looks around for Stark. Nothing. Then her eyes land on me.
"And what's this thing?" she says, approaching without shame. "Let's see…"
She taps my helmet with a finger.
"Seriously? This design? Tony's testing some weird stuff. Also, it's tiny… he's never fitting in here."
I stay silent, still. Breathing very slowly. If I don't move, I don't exist.
She's about to examine me again when a voice stops her.
"I'd recommend not touching Stark's property," Pepper says, entering with perfect balance between kindness and threat. "Some things are more dangerous than they look."
The model lifts her chin, smiling cockily.
"Tony and I have a level of trust you wouldn't understand. I doubt he'd get mad if I look at one of his suits."
Pepper keeps her professional smile, but her eyes… her eyes say, "please, try to look even more ridiculous."
She sets a neatly folded outfit on a nearby chair without breaking eye contact.
"Trust," Pepper repeats softly. "Right. Well. He shares his bed with different women almost every day. 'Trust' isn't the word I'd use."
The model arches a brow.
"What a… resentful comment."
Pepper doesn't blink.
"Realistic."
The model drops the comforter deliberately, letting it pool at her feet as if she's on a runway.
I… well. The view is nice. I won't pretend otherwise. But I hold the pose. Armor. Pure metal. Nothing to see here. I'm… invisible.
As she gets dressed with painfully slow, theatrical gestures, the model continues:
"It must be tough, huh? Being so close to him and not getting his attention. Maybe you should try, I don't know… a style change. Something less… stiff."Her eyes flick over Pepper's immaculate outfit. "More eye-catching."
Pepper gives a professional smile.
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm not trying to get Tony's attention."Pause, as she looks her up and down. "He already has enough plastic in his life."
The model chokes on her pride.
"Excuse me?"
"I said," Pepper repeats with lethal delicacy, "that he prefers synthetic materials. Disposable, quick, replaceable."She places a folded coat in the model's arms. "He likes fast food."
"You know what?" the model snaps, fuming as she buttons her blouse, "this is pure jealousy. Mr. Stark would never look at you twice."
Pepper answers without losing one ounce of politeness:
"Exactly. Because Tony looks for entertainment. And I have work."
Ouch.
The model, ego punctured in twenty places, adjusts her purse and says:
"I'm leaving. Some of us actually have social lives."
Pepper gestures politely toward the door.
"The car is waiting outside. And don't worry—Tony won't be back for at least a week. He went to Switzerland to try the 'homemade food' there."
The model opens her mouth to retort… but finds nothing. She huffs and storms out, muttering insults I don't bother deciphering.
Pepper closes the door with the same elegance she used to dismantle the supermodel minutes ago. The click of the lock sounds like silent victory.
Then she turns.
Her eyes go straight to me: the human statue.
She watches me for a few seconds… then smiles, amused.
"If that woman had a brain bigger than a peanut," she says, "she would've noticed you're not one of Tony's suits."
I exhale slowly. Loosen my neck and shoulders. Pepper is reasonable—I have nothing to fear.
"Well…" I answer, "if it worked in Jurassic Park, why wouldn't it work here? Her vision clearly relies on movement."
Pepper covers her mouth slightly to hold back a laugh, but her shoulder trembles. She walks closer.
"Sorry for that scene," she says. "Not the most… elegant thing to show you today. Although something tells me"—she gestures subtly toward my visor—"that the view didn't bother you too much."
I shrug.
"It wasn't bad. But I'm more into… natural. Dolls aren't my thing."
Pepper finally lets out a soft, genuine laugh.
"I didn't expect the famous Legion to be like this," she admits.
"That's why you should never meet your heroes," I say, standing up.
I extend my hand.
"Legion. Nice to meet you."
She shakes it with professional firmness—but with warmth.
"Pepper Potts. Pleasure's mine."
Her handshake is steady, kind—an aura completely different from the model's. Tony may have his crazy world, but Pepper… she keeps everything running.
The redhead releases my hand softly but stays close, observing me with a mix of cordiality and… concern?
"Sorry if Tony's been bothering you lately," she says finally, choosing her words carefully. "I tried to convince him he didn't need to insist so much, but he can be… a bit energetic. Especially lately."
I stay quiet, giving her room to continue.
She sighs lightly. A tired sigh—not of annoyance, but of someone who cares more than she realizes.
"Ever since the Battle of New York… he hasn't been okay. He does nothing but lock himself in the workshop."She presses her lips together. "I managed to get him out a few days, but not more than a couple hours. Even those parties he supposedly organized to invite you… he didn't even come out. He prepared them, but never showed up."She shakes her head. "I'm worried about him. Physically, emotionally… both."
I nod slowly.
Tony Stark is a brilliant man with a great gift, but it can also be a curse. It has been for many great minds across Earth—fictional or… 'real'?
"I understand," I say. "Tony's brilliant. But when it comes to everything else… he tends to neglect himself. The battle was rough. And what he saw up there…"I think of the portal, the aliens, how close he was to dying in space."…it might've affected him more than he lets on."
Pepper looks at me, attentive, as if seeking external confirmation of what she's suspected for months.
"I'll talk to him," I add. "I'm not promising he'll get better right away… but I'll at least try to make him open up. Take the first step."
She nods in a small but grateful gesture. Her shoulders relax slightly.
"Thank you," she murmurs. "Really. Sometimes I think if I talked to a wall, I'd get more conversation than I get from Tony… maybe he'll listen to you better, you know, because you're both heroes."
Then her expression shifts—like a teacher about to scold a student.
"And speaking of listening…" she continues, "I admire everything you're doing. Truly. But don't overwork yourself. You're going out every day, all over the world, since New York."She tilts her head."You're young. You should be with friends, focusing on your studies, spending time with family. Don't drown yourself in work the way Tony does."
A small smile escapes me.
"Don't worry," I tell her. "I have everything under control."
Maybe I'm more like Tony than I want to admit.
Pepper holds my gaze. And although she clearly doesn't fully believe me… she gives me a small smile.
"I hope so," she replies.
Suddenly she looks at me more closely, like she just remembered something.
"You look healthier than the reports said," she says, narrowing her eyes slightly. "The first images of you… you were thin, small. Now you look better fed and…"tilts her head "maybe you even grew a few centimeters?"
Before I can say anything, she places her hand on my head—well, on the helmet. She lowers it a bit, comparing my height to hers. She's tall, and with those heels she looks even taller—maybe 1.80? Compared to that, my 1.65 is a bad joke.
"How old are you?" she asks.
I sigh and look up at her.
"You know I'm not answering that."
Pepper smiles, amused.
"Kids today really love being mysterious."
Before I can reply, footsteps sound behind us.
Tony appears, crossing the room with his phone still in hand, probably finishing an argument with Fury. When he looks up and sees us—Pepper's hand on my head—he freezes instantly.
His expression shifts to a sly smile.
"Pepper," he says in that tone, "…don't tell me you like them young?"
Pepper blinks, confused at first. Then she realizes he's joking and purses her lips.
"Don't be ridiculous, Tony."
But before he can enjoy the moment, she rests her hand on my shoulder with natural ease and replies, with elegance and softness:
"I like those who act with maturity."
I freeze.Tony freezes even harder.Pepper, unfazed, removes her hand and walks toward him confidently.
"And since you're finally out of the workshop," she continues, back in full professional mode, "I'll take the chance to bring you to a few meetings with me. Don't take too long."
She walks past him without stopping. Before leaving, she turns to me and gives me a small goodbye smile.
The door closes.
We stay frozen in silence.
Tony slowly turns his head toward me with a "did you hear what I heard?" face. I turn to look at him with the exact same expression.
Then we see Happy in the other doorway, also frozen, holding a tray and looking like his brain blue-screened.
Tony drags a hand down his face.
"…That woman is going to kill me," he mutters.
I can't help laughing.
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HOW'S IT GOING? THIS CHAPTER WAS SHORTER THIS TIME, LOTS TO DO AND LITTLE TIME TO WRITE. SOON I SHOULD GET MY WELL-DESERVED VACATION AND FINALLY BE ABLE TO WRITE IN PEACE.
I'll try to have the next chapter soon, it annoys me because I was doing well but ended up falling behind.
ANYWAY, WE'LL SEE EACH OTHER IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, GUYS. HOPE INSPIRATION HITS ME SO I CAN GET IT OUT QUICKLY :/
TAKE CARE AND KISSES :)