Written for Day 2 of the Tumblr Pepperony Week Challenge: Pre-Relationship. And while we're on the subject, check out my tumblr, h0ldthiscat. Thanks y'all.

"Have you ever met Mr. Stark before?" the driver asked.

Pepper Potts looked up from her Blackberry in the backseat. "We've never been formally introduced. I've heard him speak at company events, been hit on at the Christmas party."

The driver—did he say his name was Happy? Was that real?—chuckled. "Sounds like Tony all right."

"How long have you worked for Mr. Stark?" Pepper asked, surprised to hear his driver call their employer by his first name. In R&D he was referred to as Mr. Stark only, and before when she had worked on the ground floor he was barely even mentioned by name.

"Eight, nine years now," Happy replied. "I was a security guard for most of the time, but I've been Tony's personal bodyguard for almost three years."

Pepper didn't miss the pride in his voice. She gave him a small smile. "That's very nice."

"Here we are," Happy said.

Pepper had been looking down at her phone and hadn't noticed that they were approaching the famous Stark mansion, but now, here it was before her with its fountains and parking circle and sprawling groundplan, and she couldn't do anything but drop her jaw in surprise.

"Pretty nice, right?" Happy asked as he opened the door for her. His voice was strong with pride again.

"Thank you, Happy," Pepper said with a polite smile.

"This is as far as I go," he said. "Once you get inside, JARVIS will tell you where to go."

"JARVIS?"

She'd heard rumors—none of which she believed, of course—that Mr. Stark had an electronic butler that ran the whole house.

"It can open the windows and adjust the thermostat and even talk," an intern in R&D had gushed last week, to which Pepper had snorted and rolled her eyes.

Mr. Stark was somewhat of a living legend, even in his own company, and people who had never met him seemed to have him built up in their minds as some sort of demigod. Pepper knew the type: trust fund baby, happens to be blessed with some useful skills and talent, uses his parents' fortune to fund his elaborate lifestyle and keep the company from going under. He was just another spoiled brat, and she wasn't afraid of him.

"Like I said," Happy repeated, "JARVIS will tell you where to go."

The car pulled around the circle and exited the driveway as she made her way up the short staircase to the front door. Because it was glass, she saw through it to the opposite side of the room—a huge window, a wall made entirely of glass. What was it she'd heard once about people in glass houses?

Pepper didn't have time to remember the quip, because an electronic voice chirped, "Welcome, Miss Potts."

She jumped and looked around, heart thumping loudly in her chest. "I'm here for a meeting with Mr. Stark," she said, her voice not as strong as she wanted it to be.

"Of course. Please enter."

There was a small metallic click and Pepper pulled one of the glass doors open. Inside, the temperature was cool and calming, almost like being inside a cave. Her heels clicked on the concrete entryway and she couldn't help but stare at the waterfall that marked the centerpiece of the spiral staircase to her left. Now that she thought about it, she was pretty sure she'd seen this room on one of those "Top 100 Most Expensive Rooms" lists in a magazine once. And if memory served her correctly, which it almost always did, it was in the top ten.

Pepper gave a small jump again when JARVIS said, "Mr. Stark is downstairs in his workshop. He requests your assistance presently."

Not sure whether or not to thank the AI, Pepper nodded curtly and crossed to the staircase, wishing she'd worn a pair of trousers instead of a skirt as she descended. One wrong move and she'd be on her ass with more than that showing. One at a time, one at a time, Potts… The spiral flattened out as she reached the bottom of the staircase and continued twenty or so steps until she reached another glass wall. What was behind it was like nothing she'd ever seen.

It looked like an antique car dealership crossed with a CIA intelligence center crossed with a man cave. Mr. Stark was nowhere to be seen. The man behind the curtain, she mused. The door clicked and she pushed it open. The sound that met her ears was deafening. She'd never heard music played this loudly before. It was Led Zepplin, or maybe Def Leppard; she had never really bothered with that sort of thing. But as quickly as it begun, it was over.

"Soundproof glass," came a disembodied voice. "Good up to five hundred decibels."

"Are you sure you weren't over that just now?" Pepper jibed, her ears still ringing.

From the back of the workshop there was a shuffling of feet, and a man with unkempt hair and a rag slung over his shoulder emerged into the center of the room. If Pepper hadn't seen him before at company functions, she wouldn't have known that the man before her was Tony Stark.

"Ever changed a fan belt before?" he asked.

"Have I—what?"

"Come here. Just come here."

Uncertainly, she followed him to the back of the workshop—past holographic computer screens and space-age robots—to a purple car that looked older than both of them combined, though Pepper knew nothing about cars. With the hood open, she could identify the engine and that was about it, but even on this model that was difficult.

"See that right there?" Stark asked, pointing to what looked like a long, thin piece of sandpaper. "Fan belt. You're going to hold this—" he pointed to a knob on the side of the mechanism, "—while I replace this—" he pointed again to the fan belt, "—with this." He held up a newer-looking version that seemed to glow blue along the outside.

Pepper chewed her bottom lip and cursed herself for not researching Mr. Stark's interests before the interview. She should have known that being his personal assistant would require at least a little bit of knowledge on the subject.

"I didn't think they still manufactured parts for these cars," she said, hoping that she sounded at least a little like she knew what she was talking about.

"They don't, I made this. Now will you hold that?"

He said it so nonchalantly that at first she barely noticed. "You—what? You made that?" Then she had another thought. "In here?"

"It's where the magic happens," Stark said with a cheeky grin, and Pepper couldn't help but crack a smile of her own. Focus, Potts.

"Mr. Stark, about the interview—"

"Are you holding it?" he asked. He put the new fan belt in between his teeth as he reached across to the other side of the engine to make an adjustment.

"Mr. Stark, with all due respect, I came here to interview for the position of your personal assistant—"

"That's what you're doing, you're assisting me," he said with gritted teeth against the fan belt.

"Yes, but I was under the impression—"

"On three, okay? One, two, three!"

Pepper yelped and held the knob he'd instructed her to. As she did so, something clicked and the old piece slid out of place, leaving it free for Stark to snatch up and replace with the new one.

"Okay, take your hands out, take 'em out quick!" he said, backing up.

"Why?" Pepper asked as she leapt back, hands above her head like she was being held at gunpoint.

"Cause I don't know if it'll work or not," Stark admitted.

"You've never done this before?" Pepper asked in disbelief.

"No, have you?"

"How will we know if it works?"

"When the old wiring accepts the new electromagnetic current it should click into place."

"And if it doesn't?"

Stark shrugged. "You're not a bad looking woman. I would be okay if you were the last thing I ever saw. What'd you say your name was again?"

Suddenly there was an earsplitting crack. Pepper shrieked and Stark whooped as the new piece of the car clicked into place. Stark gave a sigh of relief that turned into a full-blown laughing fit.

"It's Potts," Pepper answered finally when he had composed himself. "Virginia Potts."

She reached into the bag she'd brought and pulled out a copy of her resume, but Stark put up a hand. "I don't like to be handed things."

Pepper spluttered, "Mr. Stark—"

"Virginia?" he wrinkled his nose as he crossed away from her, to the desk that held more computers and electronics than she thought one person could possibly own. "Do you have a nickname? A middle name? Anything's got to be better than Virginia."

"Well, some people call me Pepper but that's really only my close friends and my mom—"

"Because of your freckles?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's the freckles, isn't it?" Stark closed his eyes and smiled, having a private moment to himself. "Pepper Potts. Not too bad. Has a certain cheekiness to it."

"Mr. Stark, I'd really like to—"

His eyes reopened. "I'm Tony, you're Pepper."

She shook her head. "I really don't think that's appropriate."

"Very few things I do are appropriate. Tell you what, I'll call you Potts if it'll make you feel better."

"It will," she said, relieved that she had finally appeared to win on something.

"And you'll call me Tony."

She narrowed her eyes. "We'll see."

"What time is it?"

Pepper checked her watch. "10:16."

"Great, do you know how to drive stick?"

"No, but I don't see what that has to do with—"

"Your loss. I guess I'll drive then."

Tony sauntered over to a rack on the wall and picked out a jingling pair of keys. He pressed the button and a ferocious looking sports car at the end of the lineup flashed its lights.

"Where are we going?" Pepper asked incredulously.

"I'm a busy guy, Potts," Stark said with a shrug. "I've got places to go."

Reluctantly, Pepper walked to the vehicle and ducked her head to climb inside. When she was this much closer to Stark, she couldn't help but notice his distinctive musk—expensive cologne mixed with the smell of oil and sweat. It was oddly comforting. She also didn't miss the less-than brief look he took at her legs, pushed front and center because of her heels in the cramped sports car.

"If I didn't know any better, Mr. Stark," she teased, "I'd say you were ogling me."

"Well clearly you don't know me at all," Stark replied with a devilish smile.

Before Pepper could answer, he accelerated and the car sped off down a winding tunnel and then burst into the sunlight.

Pepper was instantly glad she'd gone with a more modest look and worn her hair up; she could only imagine the mess it would be if she'd left it down to blow haphazardly in the blustery winds of Malibu's mountain highways. Stark wasn't a bad driver, per se, he just didn't seem very cautious. He didn't slow down around curves, in fact, he seemed to go faster. Needless to say, her knuckles were white from gripping the side of the door.

"Come on, Potts," Stark teased over the nearly deafening wind. "Don't tell me you've never gotten a speeding ticket."

"I haven't, actually," she shouted back.

Stark laughed, booming and boisterous. For some reason it made Pepper blush. "No speeding tickets. Next you'll tell me you brush and floss and say your prayers every night before you go to bed."

Pepper had the overwhelming urge to shove his shoulder, but considering she didn't know him well enough, and that doing so would probably cause them to careen off the road and over the cliff into the ocean, she settled for a disapproving look that would soon become trademark in their exchanges.

"Touchy subject, I get it," Stark said with a nonchalant shrug. "Not to fear, Miss Potts. I'll learn your bedtime routine soon enough."

At this, Pepper audibly scoffed in disbelief. This was, by far, the most unique job interview she'd ever been on. "Mr. Stark, I don't think this arrangement is going to work well for either of us if you continue that sort of talk."

Stark bristled and shifted in his seat, and it seemed to Pepper that he was… was he turned on? She scoffed again and rolled her eyes, and the car sped down the road.

Some twenty minutes later they came to a stop in a small, unlabeled parking lot that overlooked a wide beach. Not another car or person was in sight.

"Welcome to my backyard," Stark drawled as they exited the car and walked down a narrow set of stairs to the beach.

"Bit of a drive, isn't it?" Pepper asked, shading her eyes. Why hadn't she packed sunglasses?

"Well worth the wait," he said, strolling out onto the sand.

Pepper made a face, not anticipating that this interview would require a wardrobe change.

"Come here," he encouraged.

"These are Italian leather," she said, gesturing to her elegant camel-colored heels.

"So take them off," Stark said with a shrug.

Pepper gave a dramatic huff and removed them, traipsing out to meet him.

"That's better," he said with an approving nod. Giving her another once over, he asked, "How tall are you, Potts?"

She indulged him. "Without the heels? 5'9"."

"Me too." Stark smiled. "Without the heels."

"You're not intimidated by a tall woman, are you, Mr. Stark?"

He gave her a wolfish smile. "Intimidated? No. There are several other emotions I'm feeling but intimidated is not one of them."

Pepper made a face but no comment.

"Why do you want this job, Potts? I saw your resume. Business degree. Several years in the company, climbing the ladder. Certainly overqualified for executive assistant. What's the deal?"

Pepper took a breath, letting it fill her cheeks and then expelling a puff of air. "Honestly? Do you ever just take a chance to take it? Just to see if you can do it?"

"Of course. All the time." Stark shrugged.

"This is kind of the first time I've done that," Pepper said, biting her lip.

"Seriously?" Stark let out a burst of laughter. "The first risk you take and it's applying for a job you're more than likely going to get with the company you already work for?"

"I didn't say I was good at it," Pepper said, wrinkling her nose.

"We'll make a risk-taker out of you yet."

Silently, they looked out at the water. After a moment, Stark said, "You're hired, by the way."

Pepper felt pride swell in her chest but managed to keep her voice even as she said, "I figured."