A\N: At this point, I shouldn't be allowed near my laptop. Or have hands.

Pepper was asleep at her desk again. Her head cradled in the fold of her arms as she leaned heavily against the solid structure. She was going to be sore in the morning; the angle of her back and neck unnatural, something that her body long since grew too old to rebound from without a compress and some painkillers.

It's not like Pepper wanted to sleep like this, nor could she help her poor sleeping habits. Her workload had increased tremendously since Tony had grown less and less interested in running Stark Industries.

He was too busy running around saving the world with his new super-friends... not that Pepper was resentful of that. If Tony didn't save the world, there would be no Stark Industries or Pepper for that matter; the aliens, sentient robots, maniacal gods, or what have you, would make sure to destroy it all.

It was just that… well, damn it! She was his girlfriend; his business-partner; his confidant; his rock and every damned thing in-between. Shouldn't that put her somewhere higher on the priority list than getting a haircut or buying new parts for his suit?

Nah, instead she was the Aquaman to his Justice League of America.

Yeah, she was there but who needed her? Oh, Tony needs someone to pick up his dry-cleaning?—okay, now Pepper's needed.

She hated feeling so superfluous—before now, she thought getting Tony out of the office would do him some good but since she began pulling more all-nighters than she did in college, she began to grow more dissatisfied; both in herself and
Tony.

They used to be something special. Something great... now, it seemed as though he was avoiding her just as much as she was him. To quote the obnoxiously young intern who gets her coffee in the morning; Tony and Pepper's recent drifting apart 'sucked hardcore.'

When her alarm sounded in the early dawn, Pepper almost didn't hear it.

The quiet twitter of city birds zooming passed the window; the rushing traffic leagues below; the sound of the overhead analog clock tick, tick, ticking—all together, it was almost deafening.

Nuzzling her cheek against the coarse fabric of her sleeve, Pepper clung to sleep for as long as she could. The alarm was adamant, however; ringing louder and louder until she finally relented.

Huffing, Pepper freed one of her arms and reached out for her mobile. Her arm felt heavy as the sluggishness of sleep was slow to dissipate.

The ginger's hand found the cellular-phone after a few long moments of uncoordinated groping. Bringing it into her line of sight, Pepper yawned before sitting up gingerly to avoid any undue soreness.

Switching the device ON, she scanned through the menu before finding the alarm and shutting it off. Sighing, she thought about going back to sleep when she noticed that she had received a text-message sometime during the night.

Raising a questioning brow, Pepper opened the message and read it carefully:

"Hey, Pep, I was wondering if you and Tony were still coming to the vineyard with us... Neither of you has called since we set up the reservations... Clint and I are beginning to worry that you two have opted out without our knowing. Call me. Text me. E-mail me. Drop me a line on Facebook... whatever. Just get in touch as soon as you see this, 'Kay? If something's come up, let me know. I can always reschedule it." - B. Morse.

Pepper rubbed her brow bone; feeling more irritable than she ought to at reading her friend's message.

Barbara wasn't making any extreme demands; she was only wondering if Tony and Pepper were going to honor their commitment. The bride-to-be could have been a total Bridezilla about the whole thing, she could have called or visited, acting as belligerent as all outdoors as she threw the mother of all tantrums—instead, she waited until near time for the wine-tasting, giving them all the time they would've needed if something had actually come up.

Reading the text two more times to fully absorb the information, Pepper suddenly felt like the worst friend and maid-of-honor ever. She hadn't picked out a dress for the event; didn't mark it on her calendar; she didn't even think about it in the midst of all the paperwork and meetings.

Sitting upright, she buried her face in her hands, letting the phone drop onto her lap as she groaned pitifully.

"Ms. Potts, would you like me to prepare some coffee?" Came Jarvis' voice from somewhere over her head. Pepper nodded before voicing her agreement with an unintelligent noise. Rubbing the sting from her eyes, she stood and collected the tall stack of folders off the desk. Balancing them against her hip, she made her way to the kitchen.

The smell of freshly-brewed coffee made her feel alive; the thought of the likely scolding-hot, caffeinated beverage had her heart pounding eagerly. Depositing the files onto counter, she went to fix herself a cup of Joe. Getting a mug from the cabinet, Pepper didn't hear Tony enter. If not for him reaching over her shoulder to retrieve a cup of his own, she wouldn't have noticed his presence at all. "Morning," he said, more out of a feeling of obligation than anything. Pepper sighed, returning the greeting with equal enthusiasm.

No more words were exchanged between them for the moment as Tony began chatting with Jarvis and Pepper sipped quietly from her mug.

God, they were like old-people now; neither of them could stand to be around one another but preferred the 'couple' life to that of being single.

She thought of her own parents and grimaced at the notion that her mother had probably been counting the days until her dad's death; not entirely sure of just what she was asking for but pleading for it regardless. That she wasn't just wishing for the end of a bland marriage but the death of the man she had a child with; the man she grew old with; the man she watched the world change with; her equal, soul mate, and best friend.

Pepper wasn't counting the days, though, instead she was looking back through her memory-reel and trying to figure out just what the hell happened—why they were like Burt and Ernie, all of a sudden.

Finding her voice just as Tony turned to leave, Pepper cleared her throat. "Tony, you know... we promised Barbara that we would go to the vineyard with her and Barton on Saturday—" she rolled her eyes, pausing mid-sentence as Tony nodded noncommittally and kept his eyes glued to the screen of his tablet.

Stamping her foot to get his attention, and then pursing her lips when she saw him dig his ear-buds out of his pocket, she continued quickly. "Saturday's tomorrow, in case you didn't know. Are you in, still?" She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone even if she tried, "Or, will I be going to yet another event alone?"

Tony waved her off like he was swatting a fly, disappearing from the room without another word.

Pepper was pissed off beyond belief as she finished her coffee, more so as she sifted through a mountain of paperwork in the office, and even more than that when she found herself in the elevator with Natasha on the way to the office.

The other redhead looked a centerfold-model than a special agent. Today she was clad in her tight black dress with matching heels, blood-colored hair combed out until it was bone-straight and bound in an elegant bun on the top of her head.

Pepper felt an ache in the pit of stomach as she watched the other woman shift around out of the corner of her eye. Tony hadn't touched her in weeks even before he started growing distant—looking at Natasha stirred something within her.

A feeling she hadn't dealt with since her college days.

Pepper startled when Natasha cleared her throat, having had caught her staring. The businesswoman's cheeks flared pink. She looked away quickly.

"Is there something on my face?" Natasha joked imperturbably.

It was Pepper's turn to clear her throat. "No… I just…" Suddenly, she found herself pushed against the wall, Natasha's hot body pressed up against her own. She choked on a gasp as she felt every curve and the unbearably sensual warmth of the other woman's body through her thin clothing.

Before the ginger could complain or try to talk her way out of this, Natasha kissed her passionately; hands on either side of her head to keep her from getting away.

Arousal made itself known as Pepper was guided to the floor by Natasha and picked apart by her skillful tongue and fingers. Moaning and pleading for the redhead, Pepper squirmed helplessly. Her loins—

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" The ginger hollered; bursting into the bathroom and happening upon Tony 'churning butter' in the tub as Jarvis read the fan-fiction to the billionaire without shame.

The dark-haired man submerged himself in the water, trying to hide his engorged modesty from view. "Uh… research?"

"Mr. Stark requested that I locate and read for him, what is referred to as, "Literotica fan fiction" on the internet." Jarvis answered plainly.

"Jarvis, shut the fuck up!" Tony squawked.

"That is not a command I am familiar with, Sir."

Pepper, face red with fury, grabbed a bottle of Nair from the cabinet and dumped it on Tony's head. Stomping out of the bathroom as the man shrieked and whined indignantly, the ginger grumbled. "Natasha on top…? The nerve of some people."