Tin Man

By ZionAngel

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She doesn't know what to do with herself.

She'd had no plans for the evening other than filing documents and answering emails and making sure Tony didn't blow himself up testing some new addition to the suit. But then he'd come upstairs out of the blue, barged into her office, insisted that he didn't need her for the evening, and practically shoved her out the door and into her car with orders to "Relax for once, will you, Potts?"

She drives away very slowly, trying to think of something she might do. A quick check of her Blackberry confirms that there aren't any movies worth seeing. She isn't dressed for any kind of halfway-decent restaurant, and she doesn't feel like driving all the way home and changing just to drive back and wait half an hour for a table. Too cold for a walk on the beach - in heels no less, which presents the same problem as dinner. She doesn't have the energy or desire to do any kind of shopping. Too late for a manicure, and she doesn't feel like making smalltalk. A drink might be nice, but she isn't up for lying to half a dozen men and saying she's already seeing someone, or - God forbid - having to deal with one who recognizes her and wants to know what it's like working for Iron Man. And this lack of options eliminates the possibility of spending the evening with any of her friends - the ones she still has time to keep in touch with; and besides, they probably all have plans by now anyway.

So, a bit reluctantly, she ends up driving towards her condo. She stops at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall Mexican place she used to love, but hasn't eaten at in forever, orders way too much food and takes it home, where she changes into an old t-shirt and shorts, and settles down in front of the TV.

She's flips through channels as she starts on the first taco, and she's halfway through it when she finally stops. The Wizard of Oz has just started - Dorothy is running around trying to tell her aunt about all the horrible things Miss Gulch did to Toto.

This was always her favorite movie when she was little. It's probably been twenty-five years since she last saw it. So with a little smile, she settles back against the couch cushions, and sets the remote down beside her. She's full by the time Dorothy's house lands on the wicked witch, and she takes the rest of the food to the refrigerator during the commercial. She comes back and curls up under the throw blanket, finally starting to relax.

And then when the Tin Man appears on screen, she bursts into laughter. She's not quite sure why, but the sudden insertion of real life into her night of escapism amuses her to no end. She's not altogether opposed to the man of metal worming his way back into her life this evening, but it is a bit out of place.

"Beautiful! What an echo!"

"It's empty. The tinsmith forgot to give me a heart."

"No heart?"

"No heart."

Well, she thinks as they break out into song again, maybe the Tin Man and the Iron Man aren't so similar after all. The rest of the world, people who don't know him but think they do, might - probably would - call the comparison perfect, say that the former Merchant of Death and current living weapon is a carbon copy of the hollow man on-screen. Even some of the people close to him might not be able to see the fundamental difference between them.

But Pepper does. She's always been able to see his heart - even when it was covered by a pile of women's clothes to be dry-cleaned, even when its beating couldn't be heard over the sound of missiles being launched, and even when the dazzling arrogance of his personality washed out everything else in the room. Even when no one else in the world could see Tony Stark's heart, Pepper always could.

She smiles again as she snuggles down further into the warmth of the couch. She's glad that Tony sent her home, and that, for once, she listened.

When the movie is over, when the Tin Man finally has the heart he wasn't fortunate enough to be born with, she shuts off the TV, and crawls under the plush blanket of her bed for a good night's sleep. She drifts off slowly, feeling content. When she's nearly asleep and her thoughts become bizarre, she wonders if she might be able to convince Tony to be the Tin Man for Halloween if she'll be Dorothy, for whatever costumed party or benefit they end up attending. He'd have a hell of a time making the costume. And she thinks she might have just the right pair of Ruby Red Stilettos to convince him. (Because really, if the man thinks she's never noticed him staring at her legs….)

When she dreams, the man in silver has a funny looking metal goatee, and his chest isn't quite so hollow anymore with the glowing arc welded into the center. He smiles lovingly, places the heart-shaped pocket watch into her hands and presses them over her own heart, and tells her those Ruby Red shoes would make lovely dents in the back of his metal thighs.