A/N: It's been over a year since I've last updated. That's ridiculous, I know. I'm so sorry—it was a combination of college and lack of inspiration. However...I just watched the second Iron Man movie. Can I take a moment to say that I love Tony Stark? Because I love Tony Stark.
Unbetaed, because that's how I roll, and my one option is currently in the process of moving away from her childhood home. This is for you, Jane. Just a little bit of fluff to cheer you up.
Anyway, to finish up this long author's note: I'm going to try a series of one-shots again, except not about the first kiss. So...this is The Proposal, Take One.
Please read and review? I'd really appreciate it! It's been a while since I've written, and I'd love feedback of all sorts. Thank you all for your support and constant encouragement. You guys are the best, seriously.
The Proposal, Take One
It's 6 a.m., as per usual. A Wednesday morning—grey, dreary, 50s outside, a bit blustery. Breakfast is really the only time that they're both free to eat together. It's a little hard, scheduling life around conferences and press interviews and oh, say, superhero missions to save the world. So they at least eat breakfast together.
She doesn't bother to look up from her bowl of cereal when she says, calmly: "Pepper Stark sounds horrendous."
She always eats Honey Bunches of Oats with skim milk. He's a bit more erratic in breakfast behavior, he must admit. Sometimes he devours his Cinnamon Toast Crunch (come on, you can see the taste!), sometimes he forgoes cereal for everything bagels or toast or blueberry muffins. Sometimes he goes all out—on those nights when he can't sleep, he likes to put together elaborate breakfast meals, eggs and pancakes and sausage. But she's all about her Honey Bunches of Oats.
This morning, he's eating Lucky Charms, his second favorite—because he's unceasingly fascinated with the putrid blue grey green color his milk turns by the end of his meal.
And then it hits him. What she just said strikes through his morning addled brain and hits him.
And then he's literally stunned speechless, frozen—like, milk actually drips down his chin and his precious, carefully trimmed goatee.
She wrinkles her nose, gives a little shake of the head, all without looking up. "And Virginia Stark sounds even worse, ugh. Like I'm some sort of...snooty prissy grandmother." She heaves a great sigh, chews another bite delicately. She's always been a delicate eater—everything about her has always been delicate—that softness of skin, the lightness of complexion, even her tiny ears. He's always loved her ears—the fragility of them. "My parents did me no favors when they named me."
She looks up at him. "Can I keep my maiden name when you marry me?"
He chokes on his Lucky Charms. Something goes down the wrong pipe. It's the red balloon that does him in, he knows it. They've always been his least favorite.
"Tony?" She cries, alarmed, when he starts to cough and hack violently. She rushes out of her chair and to his side, pounds his back in a panic. "Are you alright?"
He ends up spitting the whole mouthful of food out onto the table, gasps for air. The putrid blue grey green milk looks no better coming out than it did going in, especially with the mess of red balloon marshmallow (damn those red balloons) and chewed up cardboard of actual cereal.
She blinks at him as he clutches his throat and struggles for breath, tucks a strand of hair elegantly behind an ear. "Well, that wasn't quite as romantic as I imagined."
He just wheezes at her, but manages a pretty dirty look.
"I got tired of waiting," she says simply. "I know how dumb you can be, Tony. It took you ten years to realize you loved me. And I want this. I want us. And I'm tired of waiting."
He still can't quite speak, but he manages to grab her by the hair at the nape of her neck, tighten a hand at the divot of her hipbone, and pull her to him. And then he's kissing her, milk in the goatee and near death experience and all. When he's done, they're both gasping for breath, and for very different reasons than before.
In the background, Dummy cleans up the Lucky Charms spit-up.
A/N: Shout out to Honey Bunches of Oats and Cinnamon Toast Crunch as my favorite breakfast cereals ever.
And as a sidenote—I had no idea where this was going when I started it. And now it's done, hahahaha. And I'm still not quite certain as to where it went, and if I like that destination. Pleasepleaseplease read and review? I figured I should get back in the swing of things, even if I'm unsure. Your feedback will encourage me greatly .