Tony appreciated bras. They presented some of his favorite attributes to the female form, and did a damn fine job of it.
Or at least, he did, until they started filling his drawers.

It wasn't the fact Pepper was leaving clothing at his place—she had always done that. No, it was the sheer amount of bras now living in his closet.

Sports bras, front clasps, strapless and the ones with the straps that crossed in the back—she had them all and multiple pairs at that. Pink, black, white and at least one that reminded him of watermelon that he had yet to see her wear—they had started out with just one, then two. Now, by his estimation, there has to be at least thirty, and he had a sneaky suspicion the bag she was walking up the driveway carrying contained yet another one, from the Victoria's Secret label on the side.

Then again, he considering the smile on her face and the way she walked just a little bit faster as she saw him watching – maybe the over-abundance of bras wasn't such a burden.

He could always build a new closet.

Or house.

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