Timeline: Movie-verse, no real spoilers

Category: Humor, one-shot

Rating: PG-est thing that ever flirted with G


La Pepper-ony Pizzaz

Tony Stark clicked his heels together, more than once, in a way that was not at all like Dorothy Gale because obscenely affluent grown men did not in any way seek to embody the traits of a meteorologically-challenged pig-tailed child, despite the fact that an obscenely affluent grown man could absolutely do so, if he should choose to, and no one would say anything because he was, after all, Tony Stark. In response, little white and red text blinked on the board above him, beside garish photos and an excess of dollar signs.

"Miss Potts, refresh my addled and mildly inebriated cerebellum: why are we here?"

Pepper Potts rifled through her purse, an activity she would not normally do in her boss's presence, but he wasn't in any shape tonight to notice a temporary lack of organization. "Why are we here in line for pizza, Mr. Stark, or why are we here in the multiverse at large?"

"Um, the pizza. I like that you said multiverse, though. I knew you were bright when I hired you."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. We are in a pizza parlor because we ran out of gas, and it's late, and you have a highly aggressive grudge against Denny's that you refuse to explain to me despite its going back several years prior to my employment and regularly costing your own company 3 million dollars in shared stock options. You personally are in line at a pizza parlor because you threw up in the limo and couldn't wait through the smell. What would you like on your dinner?"

Tony stark swayed a little, but he was a superhero and Iron Man is most definitely not the kind of superhero who collapses in places that are so...so... public.

"I want...I would like...what are you getting?"

Miss Potts gave him a level stare and her most pleasant personal assistant smile. "Cheese and peppers."

Tony Stark giggled. Then he realized it, and stopped. He coughed, and everything swirled for a moment before righting itself again, centered on the elegant and somewhat distant face of Miss Potts. He thought she might, might, be annoyed, but it was powerfully hard to tell with her sometimes. "Uh, I'll split with you. Pepperoni on my half." He smothered another giggle.

Her level look continued. Flat, even, and totally unreadable. Oh, she was definitely annoyed. "Of course," she said at last, and gave the clerk their orders with a voice smooth as lacquer.

Eight minutes later, the pizza appeared on the counter before them, lid open to verify they were getting their fair worth of grease per dime. Stark looked down at it, smiled big, and put an arm over Miss Pott's shoulder companionably.

He pointed at his chest, then hers. "Tony, Pepper. Pepper, this is our creation, La Pepper-ony Pizzaz. I'm sure many more fantastic collaborations are sure to follow, though we probably ought to name them respectable things like Charles, or Jessica, or Sue if I really hate the youngest boy."

"Mr. Stark."

"Yes?"

"I quit."

"Oh, that's not necessary. But I'm not at all surprised you're taking the legalities into account; that's very you."

Miss Potts sighed. She ducked under Stark's arm and snatched the pizza box. "Let's go outside, then, and while we eat we can discuss how expensive it will be for you to rehire me."

"Great idea. Do I get to ask you the invasive personal questions I hear you aren't supposed to ask?"

"Have you ever been interviewed for a job, Mr. Stark?"

He pushed through the doors to the parlor and held them for her, but not in a very secure way. "I don't think so. Hmmm... no. Can't say I have."

"I expect it will go swimmingly, then."