1963-08-21 - Paper Airplanes
Summary: Tony's at work on a Sunday. The Annual Report is made into Paper Airplanes. Pepper comes in with her new date. Just a typical day at Stark Industries
Related: None
Theme Song: None
tony pepper bucky 

Stark Industries - Executive Office New York City
Sun Aug 21, 1963 — Sun Aug 21 14:03:34 2016

The executive office office of Stark Industries might almost be considered understated in compare to the glaring colors of outside. The shag carpeting here is a pale cream instead of gold, though a low-pile red rug does run down the center of the office. A tasteful heavy brown leather davenport sits tucked beneath the half windows, a brass-and-glass coffee table and two matching chairs in front of it. Opposite the sitting area is a huge old desk with a large leather executive chair behind it. Red and gold glass ash trays rest of every available flat surface. Wooden bookshelves line many of the walls, half hiding that robot-man wallpaper. A full little bar wraps around the corner of the room, completely with red and gold leather bar stools and more liquors than one can count. Lastly, in the far corner, there is a distended part of the wall that looks like it's just a large work of art (The City of Tomorrow) but, when pulled down, reveals a red and gold sheet set clad Murphy bed.

Tony does his best work when he's at home, three sheets to the wind, and inspired by who knows what, but every now and then he comes into the office during odd hours of the day. Maybe it's to keep people on the toes, or maybe it's because he ran out of specific booze at home that he knew was still stocked in his office bar. Most likely, that is the case today for there is a glass of something poured and resting on the desk nearby (coasters? Who needs coasters?).

The buzzer from the office to Ms. Potts' office has been pushed in increments of about thirty seconds for the last five minutes as if, for some reason, he expected her to actually be there on the weekend, at his beck and call and reading his mind that he was leaving his home to come to the office. The Annual Report actually caught his attention though and, almost as if it was his job, he reads through it.

Now, however, he has begun making paper airplanes and has aimed them at the window that has been opened in his office.

Pepper wasn't actually at her desk when the buzzing started. It's Sunday, she's tried to take her weekend to not TOTALLY work, and been enjoying the company of someone else. But, she did have the company ledger — which she balances every weekend after the markets close, getting it ready for Monday's opening bell again, so having finished that this afternoon, she decided to bring it down to put at her desk so it just wouldn't be in her sight any longer. That means, at the very end of that buzzing, she hears it. She moves from the elevator to double timing in her desk's direction. No buzzing comes again.

Pepper stands there a few heartbeats, in her heels and butter cream yellow dress, staring down at the desk top with a quiet frown. She had a choice. She could pretend she wasn't here, or she could see what Tony needed. While it's so tempting to go back to the apartment, she sighs to herself and walks around to her desk, sliding the ledger into it's drawer before turning on the ball of her heel and moving for HIS office door. If he was going to bother her on the weekend, it would at least be face-to-face.

"You're lucky I stopped down, you know, and just heard the buzzer. If you need me on a weekend, Tony, you know you need to pick up the phone." Pepper states flatly from where she stands, framed by the door of his office. She looks fresh and far softer for the weekend, none of the business-like lines she prefers to wear during the week. She might also look relaxed, but that look is rapidly fading.

"The traditional paper airplane has a much better aerodynamics than any other modifications," Tony starts as he takes another page to fold…from the Annual Report. "You think that if you make it sleeker or with a wider wingspan it would fly better, but nope." He makes another paper airplane quickly and tosses it right at Pepper even as he turns to see her there in the doorway. "Wow."

Paper Airplanes are forgotten.

"How come you never look like that in the office? You should wear that again."

Oh, right. He gestures to the bar, "We ran out of whiskey." Which is why he called her? On the intercom. "The phone is so far away."

A slight groan escapes her lips as he comments about the paper airplanes. She doesn't quite realize what he's using for the folds, but she steps the rest of the way into the room just as he's commenting on her outfit. She smirks to him, "Because this isn't for work. At work, I need some other people to at least take me SOMEWHAT seriously, so I need to be more business like. This is for the weekends when I'm not working and just want to look like a woman."

The annoyance only deepens more as she realizes why she was being called. She should have gone back up to her apartment, she shouldn't have listened. But, here she is. "…It's a Sunday. No liquor store is open right now. You'll have to drink scotch today. I thought you were on a scotch kick anyway." She's just about to bustle over to his wet bar when her pale eyes catch sight of the paper on his desk. Her gaze widens, fingertips immediately reaching for the stack of report that is left.

"TONY! This is the annual report! Did you leave ME a copy?! I need to read this, you know?!"

"Why don't you want to look like a woman at work? -I- want you to look like a woman…all the time. I mean, you'd make a very pretty man, but I prefer you," he gestures to her, head to toe, "Like this. The people who don't take you seriously…" he looks thoughtful for a moment, "Fire 'em."

Tony gets up from his seat and reaches for the glass to drain it, "A man want's -some- variation," as if she should know that.

The yell catches him with the glass just being lowered from his lips and he looks a little like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Only it's -his- cookie jar. There's a glance to what's left of the report before he moves to peer out the window and down the many stories before looking back. "Let me summarize: We're doing well. We're making money. They're mad we're not making weapons anymore and want us to reconsider." He then takes what's left of the report and hands it to Pepper. "It's pretty dry. No plot. No characterization. Terrible dialogue."

Downstairs, on the executive floor of Stark Industries, where Pepper Potts works, it is a Sunday — and people seem to be working. She had stopped at her desk and put away that ledger, but it seems she was caught up in things otherwise. The door to Tony's office is still open, so the sound of their voices trickling into the front secretary's and waiting area can be heard. Pepper sounds exaspertated — beyond exasperated.

"…Tony, I realize that's all that matters to you, but when I need to write your letter to the board defending the lack of weapons, I'm going to need to respond to all parts of this! It's not for paper airplanes!" She huffs, taking what is left of the report and hugging it almost protectively against her chest as she finally finishes her step over in the wet bar's direction. Now, well out of Tony's reach, she puts the report down and crouches expertly (still in her high heels) to go through the wet bar's contents.

"You still have Legavulin, the 36 year aged Glenfiddich, and the Morgan scotch. That should all hold you over until tomorrow. Which do you want?" She is not saying another word about her dress.

Bucky had stopped to drop off some papers Pepper had left in her apartment— things he knew she'd meant to bring to this meeting. He'd risen to find her already at work, which wasn't unusual, but there was something tugging him to find an excuse to see her one more time.

He slips into her office with that quiet, canny deference that keeps eyes from him, and spots Pepper's office assistant, nodding at the girl. Before she can stop him, though, he catches Pepper's voice and moves on quiet feet towards the offices, opening the door and holding the sheaf of papers up.

"Pepper, you— oh." He sets the papers aside and starts to retreat, wearing his janitor's outfit and clearly in the Wrong Room. "Didn't realize was a meeting. Please excuse," he says, backpedaling.

Tony still keeps his eyes on Pepper as she crouches at the bar, appreciating the view. Oh, she asked him something, didn't she? What was it? Oh, alcohol. "Morgan." There was something else and it finally flicks into his mind, "Let me write the letter. I can do that. It's just a letter, right?" He can write a letter. "I had pen pals as a kid…"

His voice trails off as someone new comes into the office. Someone unbidden. "Security breach," but he doesn't sound too worried. The man's uniform is noted and he then looks to Pepper, "You have people working on the weekends? Who works on the weekends?" A hand is waved, "Go home…enjoy the rest of the day. Want a drink for the road? We've got…Scotch and Scotch. Pepper, get this man a scotch."

Well, this was awkward. When did he put the uniform on? Maybe he felt better with it coming into the work areas. Pepper shakes off the thoughts and stands abruptly, eyes going a bit wide. "Jack!" Clearly, she knows the man. Also, there is no hiding the warm in her voice when she says his name. She doesn't just know him, she's affectionate towards him. And, unlike the stiff, ready to work gaze she often gives Tony, the presence of this intruder seems to actually set her at ease. Her smile is, somehow, more calm for him being in the room.

"…Uh, Tony, this is Jack. He's…we're… Seeing each other. He's also the new janitor I brought on. The one from the VA?" Maybe he wasn't listening when she told him that. "…Jack, this is Tony, my boss…" And she's moving to pour two glasses of the Morgan, because Tony asked and she does whatever he asks.

'Jack' stops on the threshold, then finally relents and steps back into the room, because it'd be really rude to just leave Pepper standing there with two drinks in her long fingers. He steps into the room slowly, eyes flickering around to take in every little detail of the expansive offices.

"You're Tony Stark." His eyes go up and down, assessing the fellow, and he takes the scotch into his left hand. Oddly, he doesn't seem terribly impressed— or intimidated. There's a surety about the fellow that a regular janitor wouldn't have. Maybe it's a soldier thing? He does seem keenly alert, moreso than a regular blue-collar joe.

Tony may be sloshed, he may be seemingly distracted, but he is observant. He is oh, so observant. It's second-nature to him so he doesn't actually expect anyone to notice what he does, or even -that- he does. Maybe he isn't always as drunk as he seems…or as crass as he seems, or even as distracted as he seems.

"You're seeing the janitor…" is repeated as if he needs to say it to believe it. Tony then gets up and takes the drink, in his right hand, and makes his way over to the other. The glass is moved to his other so he can offer his hand ever so politely, "That's what the name on the door says." Of course, he's not going to leave it at that. Tony Stark walks around the Janitor before asking, "You treat her nice? I mean, if you don't, I know people. Well, people who know people." Dark eyes flicker between the two and he points two fingers to his eyes and then Jack's eyes. He's going to be watching.

No one hurts his Pepper.

A slight wince crosses Pepper's features at, pretty much, everything Tony says. The implication that a janitor isn't good enough for her, and then the subtle threats. She doesn't actually know how that's going to go over, but she suspects not well. She takes in a tense breath, handing Tony his scotch and then slipping herself ever so subtly between Tony and Jack as she gives the ex-soldier his scotch. Maybe her presence can calm any instincts that come up.

"He…he treats me very well, Tony. He takes good care of me and reminds me to relax. And yes, I am seeing a man who works here as a janitor, who has fought in a war for our country. So. Yes." She states that with a stiff sort of pride to her voice. It also might explain the yellow dress she's wearing today.

Jack looks at Tony's handshake and grips it back, staring at the fellow with a blank, unreadable expression. "I treat her as well as I can." His fingers curl around Tony's. Oddly, the right hand is ungloved, though he balances the scotch in his leather-wrapped left. His fingers tighten around Tony's hand. "She is too good for me, I agree. But she says I am making her happy." His fingers… keep tightening. Like a vise slowly screwing down, and almost as strong. "But if I think I am not doing right by her, I will be sure to let you know." Tighter, tighter, tighter, no strain on his face. "If you're worried, of course. I can tell you care about her and she says many kind things about you." His accent is… off? There might not /be/ an accent. It's very peculiar, as if he's struggling hard to make the words come out precisely.

Also, in lieu of threats, he seems content to continue the handshake until Tony taps out.

He was expecting a firm handshake, but he wasn't expecting that sort of challenge. There's a sideways glance at the Janitor before Tony tries to pull his hand away before bones are bruised. He then gives his hand a little shake, "That's quite a grip you have there." Ow. He flicks a glance at Pepper before he looks back to Jack, still taking the particularly intense janitor in. "In a war, huh? Which one? Korea?" The man looks old enough for that at least.

There's a quick turn to Pepper, "Relax? I thought you hated to relax. I thought you loved being busy!"

"I…I do! But I also like to sometimes relax. And…need to, sometimes. So, he's good for me, Tony." Pepper, if she noticed how badly that handshake went down, is trying to ignore it. She does, however, loop one arm through Bucky's and try to tug him back towards the door. "But…Jack and I have dinner tonight, so, really…we should probably get going. I will go over that report in the morning, I promise. And I can handle the letter, you don't have to do it, Tony, I promise. I'll do it. But… we really should go…"

Pepper just seems like she'd like to diffuse the situation before anything else happens. Perhaps she's a bit too worried, but she also knows there are some monsters in Jack's head she'd rather not come out here. So, with her ever sunny smile and a bit more insistance to her grasp, she's trying to guide him to the door. She's flustered enough that she's ACTUALLY forgotten the annual report on the wetbar. She'snever going to read that damn thing.

Bucky releases Tony's grip. There's no smugness or cruelty in his expression— whatever else he is, he's not the sort of man to rub victory in Tony's face. "I work out," 'Jack' says, shrugging his right shoulder. "Yeah. Korea. Tenth Mountain," he explains. "Staff Sergeant." All of which is perfectly easy to corroborate with the War Department.

He lets Pepper drag him off with little show of resistance, setting the scotch aside as he goes. "Thank you for the drink, Mister Stark. And the job," he adds, before Pepper can haul him completely away.

Tony most likely will corroborate the man's story — first he's going to get the employment records from HR and then make a few phone calls to make sure that Pepper's not dating a psychopath. Has he done it with any other dates? Probably. In the meantime though, he watches as Pepper goes to drag Jack off on their date, "Make good decisions!" he calls after them, "And don't come to work on the weekends! Workaholics!"

His scotch is downed before he looks to the Annual Report that made it's way back to his desk. Well, he's here, it's here, and Pepper said she enjoyed relaxing. The glass is set down, he cracks his knuckles, and sits back down at the desk, some paper pulled out from a drawer.

Time to write a letter to the Board. It shouldn't be too hard.

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