2013.06.25 - To Torches. And Practical. And Paisley.

Downstairs at the Stark Tower garage, Phil Coulson and Lola pull into the parking garage, his ID scanned by JARVIS at the garage gate. The cherry condition Red Corvette rumbles into the garage growling like luscious thunder.
Phil finds a parking spot right next to the elevator shaft, exits the car, and gives her rear fender a buff with the sleeve of his shirt. He plucks the to-go containers from the back seat and carries the large bag toward the elevator.
"Coulson to See Pepper Potts, Please," He says. Under one hand he carries the take-out, in the other, he's carrying a blush teal orchid in a small sculpted vase.
"Good evening, Agent Coulson," JARVIS's voice replies as the elevator opens. "Miss Potts is waiting in her office."
"Miss Potts, Agent Coulson is on his way to your office." Pepper looks up from where she's getting a few last bits of paperwork taken care of. She quickly saves off her work, locks down the computer, and stands to smooth her clothing as she walks over to the wet bar in her office and sets the tea kettle to boil. A quick request of the AI, and the TV in the corner of the office starts playing classical music softly enough to not be distracting.
Agent Coulson would normally be juggling a briefcase or tablet computer or something, but for tonight, he's managed to go all out. Instead of a white oxford tonight, he was wearing a blue oxford, so unconventional. And a Tie he'd never wear at work. Something purple and paisley. Ordinarily, not what he'd be wearing.
The elevator doors ding, and he steps out of the elevator. "Good Evening Pepper. I hope you don't mind having a working dinner to start the evening, I'd just feel better about the rest of the evening getting it off to a good and quiet start." He proffers her the white orchid vase. "I would have brought a rose, but that would have been so conventional." He holds up the bag of take-out. "I ordered take out from Butter, I wasn't sure if we should go out out..."
Pepper Potts smiles as Phil enters her office, accepting the orchid. "Good evening, Phil. I don't mind at all, especially considering a last minute conference call I ended just a little bit ago." She accepts the orchid, studying the blossom for a moment. "And this is beautiful, much better than cut flowers that are only going to wilt." She gestures into the room while turning to set the orchid next to the one given to her by Sif, the pair of plants complementing each other. "Would you rather sit at the table, or...?" Wow, is the unflappable Pepper Potts possibly a bit nervous? "You look very nice today, by the way. Blue is a good color for you."
Phil gives Pepper a winning smile and says, "The table will be fine to lay it out." He starts pulling things out of boxes. "I got a selection, so you can pick and choose."
On the table are pure white paper boxes that open to reveal roasted asparagus and morels with a lemon-marsala. There's also a Rack of lamb with goat cheese and olives and mint leaves. There's also a Hatfield Farms Pork Milanese with a frisee salad and grainy mustard.
"I like this one, it's a side of Chilled Sugar Snap Peas with Lemon. Oh, and a side of fries."
A phone call rings in to Coulson's phone, the caller ID showing up as 'Susan Storm'.
Coulson takes the call. He always takes the call. Almost always takes the call, at any rate. "Hello, Sue? It's Phil Coulson, what can I do for you?"
Pepper Potts ohs? and smiles as she pulls a bottle of chilled Panna Acqua from the mini-fridge in her bar. "All of that sounds amazing. What would..." She stops and lets Phil answer his phone call. she knows how it can be.
Phil Coulson says, "Of Course, Sue, just let me know what you need. Is this an emergency at all?" (On the phone.)
Pepper Potts takes the intervening time to open the bottle of chilled water and fill two glasses already on the table, wine glasses still empty and waiting. One thing she learned quickly and well on this job was how place settings for the rich and famous work. 'Cause it's sure not the same as how she grew up.
Phil Coulson says, "I... I think I have the number for their townhouse. I'll text you all the numbers I have. I might have Sif's as well as the Townhouse. I don't remember getting Thor's number. I'll text everything I have to you." (On the phone.)
Phil Coulson says, "Always happy to help, Sue. Call if the texts don't come through, otherwise I'll talk to you soon." (On the phone.)
Phil Coulson hangs up the phone.
Pepper Potts glances at Phil curiously, but knows better than to ask. So instead she uses the now boiling kettle to start a pot of tea brewing.
Before he can take a glass of water or even start compiling a plate he's twiddling with his phone, forwarding Sue Storm some contact information to Thor's Soho Townhouse and Sif's cell phone. 
He turns the phone on vibrate and slips it into his slacks pocket. He gives Pepper a tentative and slightly nervous smile. "Plates and decent plastic wear, good." 
He starts putting together plates, big stiff paper ones with grooves and portions and starts piling half of everything onto each plate. He does take out a knife from his pocket to portion things.
Pepper Potts blinks and can't help but smile. She'd been just about to get the real plates and flatware she keeps in the wetbar for working lunches, but there's just something more ... comfortable about paper plates and plasticware. "Only the best, hm? If the food had allowed, I would have gone for the fine china, myself." She indicates the paper napkins.
Phil Coulson just chuckles and shakes his head. "I should have known that we wouldn't need paper plates. But I'd rather clean up could be quick. We don't have much time and It'll take us a little while to get uptown." He sets each plate on the table at chair places and then fetches the Sugar Snap Peas and the Fries.
"Hm. True." Pepper decides it's best not to mention that the housekeeping services here also take care of dishes. "So, what are the plans for after dinner, again? A museum exhibit?" She settles into one of the chairs after bringing the teapot to the table. "Oh, and I forgot to ask, did you want red wine or white with dinner?"
Phil Coulson finishes placing the sides on the far side of the table. "Well, I wouldn't mind a red, but if you prefer whites we could open the white. I'm probably not going to be having more than just a little, since I want to drive."
"What are you having tonight?" he asks after a slightly awkward pause.
Pepper Potts smiles. "Honestly, I'm fine with just the water and the tea." Because getting drunk on wine on a first date? THAT would be just TOO undignified. She picks up a plastic fork and starts by claiming a spear of asparagus. "You know, I was once told that if I didn't properly appreciate asparagus I shouldn't eat it." She eats the spear almost contemplatively. "This I can properly appreciate."
Phil grins back. "Water and tea will be fine with me. I'm sure we can grab a cocktail if we really need one toward the end of our trip. At the show or perhaps after. If I skip the wine, I can have extra dessert." He takes his seat and eyes Pepper's asparagus. "I'm glad you can appreciate. I would have got the lobster, but I just don't feel it travels well. We'll have to go there sometime and get it there from the tank."
Pepper Potts shakes her head with a faint grimace at the mention of lobster. "You're right it doesn't. And I don't really care for lobster anyway. I can't really eat anything that's staring back at me." Her asparagus spears disappear quickly enough, and then she starts in on the main entree.
Phil Coulson nods and starts with the Sugar Snap Peas, while they're nice and cold and shrugs. "I guess I've gotten... used to eating strange cuisine. It goes along with the job from time to time." He glances over toward the hot water. "How long do you think before the tea's done?" He's gotten really bad at small talk. Time to shift gears. "Has Tony talked to you or put any plans in JARVIS that you can access regarding the time frame for the implementation of Project Red Sun?"
Pepper indicates the already brewed pot on the table, then picks it up to pour some for Phil. She seems immune to the awkward gear shifts... of course, maybe there's a reason for that. "I haven't heard anything specific, but I haven't really had time to ask. JARVIS, do you have any updates that you can share?"
"I do not, Miss Potts. My apologies."
"Sorry, Phil. I'll make a point of asking tomorrow, though."
"Oh, you can just text me, if you like." He smiles as the tea is poured. "What do we have today?" He leans over to smell it. "Smells suspiciously like Earl Grey." he says with a bit of a grin.
"So, what other social invitation are you blowing off for me tonight, Pepper?" he asks around a bite of the asparagus. "Mmmm. Delicious! You know what we need? We need a secure heroes only restaurant that caters. You know... Crime scenes and events."
A nod to acknowledge texting results as Pepper learns about them. "I'm sure JARVIS can do so as well in case I forget." Unlikely, but it's on the table. At the comment about the tea, she chuckles and rolls her eyes slightly. "It's Assam. Can't drink Earl Grey constantly. It's probably the teapot." She's steadily working her way through the meal, contemplating the catering idea. "That sounds like a good idea except for the potential of contaminating crime scenes. Events, though, definitely. I'll put my ear to the ground to see if there's anyone out there already."
Agent Coulson nods. "Assam will be just fine." They fall into an awkward silence that lasts a good twenty or thirty seconds as they both eat. "Mmm. This lamb is delicious... very delicate. The mint leaves are surprisingly mild."
Pepper Potts lets the silence stretch, almost as if testing Phil. When he finally comments on the lamb she opts to be merciful. "It truly is. I'll have to remember this for next time I go by there. I usually get the chicken because I have no imagination. You said you eat all kinds of things because of your job. What kinds of things, if I may ask?"
Phil Coulson says, "One time, on location in Alaska, I was served Seasoned Blubber. That was unremarkable. Well. Chewy. Very, very chewy." He takes a bite of the Pork Milanese."
He chews, takes a sip of tea. "Beirkase... in Germany... I have to admit, I like their spaeztel but I don't really care for blood sausage. Fried Grasshoppers in Thailand once."
Pepper Potts nods slowly. "I once ate a skewer of scorpions in Hong Kong. Happy dared me." She pours herself some tea at this point, apparently pretty much done eating. "They tasted okay, but the legs were ... disconcerting. Still, I think I would prefer insects and scorpions over blood sausage any day. Ugh."
Another long silence brews between them as Phil sips his tea. "You know... I was thinking, maybe we could do desert first, change things up, then do the gallery and then I can take you home. To your home." He flushes a little and falls silent. He forks up the rest of the asparagus in quiet desparation.
Pepper Potts watches Phil try to hide behind the asparagus, then smiles once she feels she's made him squirm enough. "Sure. I really don't have to have my entire life planned down to the milisecond. Spontenaety is sometimes very appealing."
Phil nods. "I do a dance with my schedule every day for just a little more time in it. But I'm glad we could wiggle a little more time out of our schedules for one another." He shoves a mushroom into his mouth and says. "Oh, this would be heaven with some red wine. A burgundy or a pinot noir though. Or a light merlot I suppose. Boujoulais Neuvo would make it a superior addition to a Thanksgiving Day buffet." THere's a bit of a silence as he swallows and clears his throat. 
"Uhm, Pepper... About that shooting...?"
Another thing Pepper is secretly very good at: remembering details. There will be mushrooms with pinot noir in the future. But then Phil brings up the incident with Rescue in the Tower's gym. "Oh. When I mentioned it to Tony, he said he was surprised you didn't empty the clip." It's her way of either testing the man yet some more, or proving to him that she didn't take it personally.
Phil nervously smiles about that. "I think if it had just been the two of us, I'd have done the whole clip, or perhaps just you, me and Janet Van Dyne. Captain America would have broken my wrist if it had been more than just one shot, I think." He takes a drink of his water.
"Dessert, I was thinking of heading up to the Bronx. I brought my car. It's a fine night for a drive, I think. There's Mama Anita's. We can drive up. Or I can completely abuse my authority and order some delivered to us en route. But I'd rather drive. It's my night. I'm cleared for two drinks tonight. I intend to get them. But not before driving." 
He'd be blushing still but his training was too good for that. He managed to conceal his blush entirely. "Would you like to get some dessert, Pepper? Go for a little drive?"
Pepper Potts nods at that, as she can see Steve taking exception to more than one bullet very easily. "Nothing to forgive, and already forgotten." And then Phil starts to get kind of rambley about going out for dessert, but as amusing and endearing as that is, she is also too good to let a blush show. "I would like that very much. I don't think I've simply gone for a drive since.... gosh. College."
Phil says, "Excellent. We should finish our tea first though, don't you think? It's quite good." He twiddles with his tie. "Thank you for complmenting my tie. I don't wear this one very often."
He takes a long sip of his tea. "It's the perfect temperature to enjoy," he comments. It's a bland comment. Like Coulson is most of the time. Bland interspersed with flat out running action and adrenaline. He jingles the keys in his pocket. "I think you're going to like Lola very much."
Pepper Potts smiles and takes another sip of her tea. "It's quickly becoming one of my favorites." She doesn't elaborate whether she's talking about the tea or the tie, though. Mention of Lola, however, does get her to quirk an eyebrow. "Lola? Really?" By the included key jingles she can guess he means his car, but if she doesn't get a chance to tease him now, she might not get a chance ever again.
Phil nods and finishes his tea. Or mostly. He's got about a quarter of a cup left at this point. He just looks at Pepper and from where he's sitting it looks like the orchid he bought her is resting on the top of her head, just to one side.
He takes a deep, appreciative breath and just lets the moment sink in. "I almost want more tea. But maybe I'll settle for coffee with dessert."
"How about a compromise?" Pepper stands, ruining the visual effect of having an orchid sprouting up from her hair, and rummages about in the wet bar for a moment before producing a thermos. "Let's take the tea with us. Better than letting it to go waste."
Phil Coulson nods. "A capital suggestion. The gallery will have wine for sure as well." He offers to help with the tea. He wonders briefly if he should call Sue back yet. No, no, it was night and if it was an emergency, she would have said so.
He asks for the elevator. "JARVIS, Elevator to b2, please." Parking *is* underground at the building, isn't it? He holds the door for Pepper. He watches her coach bag, expecting it to come along for the ride.
Of course the coach bag comes along for the ride, and it even does a fantastic job of carrying the thermos and two cups on top of everything else that usually travels around with Pepper. And regardless of where parking actually is under Stark Tower, JARVIS gets the gist and takes them to where Lola is waiting. As soon as they step out and Pepper sees the car, her eyes go wide and she steps toward the car in something resembling awe. "Is this Lola?" She walks slowly around the 'Vette as if studying every line of the vehicle but doesn't actually touch her or reach out a hand to try.
It is Lola. In the chrome and red. She's a 1962 Vette in mint condition, with the top down. "I only take her out when she's not going to get her hair wet." He comes around to open the door with a meaty thunk of metal.
"Pepper, meet Lola, Lola, this is Pepper. I think you two will get along just fine." He holds the door and fishes for his driving gloves with his other hand. The buttery leather seats are softly burnished to a perfect light brown sheen.
Pepper Potts smiles at Phil and Lola both before settling her coach bag on the floorboards and taking the passenger's seat gingerly. She clearly learned to appreciate vintage cars SOMEwhere. "Hello, Lola." She then watches Phil fuss with driving gloves and can't help but be highly amused. It's silly and endearing both at the same time.
Agent Coulson closes the door firmly but gently behind her and runs around the back of the car and slides into the drivers seat. He inserts the key and the engine roars into life, and then settles into a throaty, growling purr of engine. 
Phil pulls out onto the New York Streets, the minute someone breaks to check out his car, he's in front of them and proceeding down the crowded New York City Streets, top down and doing about 20 miles an hour.
Pepper Potts relaxes into the seat and enjoys the drive. How could she not? There's not even really any need to carry on a conversation. The only way this drive could be nicer were if they were driving through the country instead of the middle of midtown New York City.
Phil turns on the radio, big band music from the 40's and 50's comes out of his radio, and they ease through traffic. A long, leisurely, music accompanied drive to relax the nerves. Sort of. Phil drives somewhere between maniac and grandfather. 
"Hey! I'm driving here!" He yells only once in awhile. Fortunately though, because it wasn't Tony Stark in the car, no one was taking photos. "Next time, we should consider taking a helicoptor to Brooklyn." He draws to a halt at a stoplight and turns the engine over with a little extra muscle.
"I'd rather take Lola to go visit someplace green. Like Sleepy Hollow. Or Cold Spring." Pepper seems entirely content right now, though, and the driving or shouted comments don't seem to perturb her at all. Maybe having spent so long as Tony's PA /does/ have its perks.
Phil just leans back and drives for about six blocks. His GPS tells him to take the bridge but he takes the tunnel instead heading for the Bronx, his expert eye picking out the best path.
In the cab of the vette, the wind is blowing and the horns are wailing. Bah-duh-bump! Bah-duh-bump! Phil starts playing along to the music tapping the steering wheel as they drive. "It's nice to drive to Washington in the spring," he shares.
Pepper Potts smiles, pitching her voice above the traffic noises. "That's a bit too long of a drive for my taste, not to mention Washington usually means meetings and social events I can't avoid." She does actually hum along with one song faintly, clearly one she recognizes. Yeah. Perfect pitch is NOT amongst her skill sets.
Phil winces internally at Pepper's choice of keys, but bravely joins along, in the same key, lower register to help nudge her back to true. He's a pretty decent actor so it comes off okay.
"I wouldn't take Lola to Washington unless it was Spring. Take some photos with the Cherry Trees. Impress a senator or something like that. You and I both know how Washington works, Pepper."
Pepper Potts ohs and nods, though she doesn't really cotton on to Phil's humming to nudge her closer to the correct key. It works, though, because that's how human hearing works. "You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen one of those cherry trees up close while they're in bloom."
Phil Coulson nods and says over to Pepper. "I like getting there in the Spring, when the National Gallery has changed their main exhibit. It's a lovely stroll. The midprice cab they have on their menu is the best vitage they actually carry too."
The drive continues for awhile in companionable sing along big band tunes. Eventually though they come to a halt in front of Mama Anita's in Brooklyn, many tunes and snippets of dry and boring conversation between them about the weather and such and what's showing at the Met.
Pepper Potts has thoroughly enjoyed the leisurely drive to Brooklyn, and seems unaware of the fact that her previously neatly coiffed hair is now all little flyaway strands around her face. "So, is this the place those evil evil cannolis come from?"
Phil Coulson says, "Indeed, this is the very place. I think the owner's husband is in the kitchen tonight. It's a shame we already ate, or I'd get to try his pizza." He manages to find a spot close to the shop, only a half block or so away. Miracle parking in this city. He actually pulls into a pay lot and swipes a card. "This is the famous: Mama Anita's Ristorante: ANITA BELLA," he says enthusiastically."
Pepper Potts ohs and nods. Mental notes being stored. "Considering how many people comment on just the desserts... I'll have to make a point of coming by here sometime for the actual food."
Phil leads Pepper back to a back corner booth that's just getting cleaned. When the busser takes his tray of dishes back, Phil dusts the bench seat for Pepper and then his own and tucks the handkerchief back into his breast pocket. "Their lasagna is great, but if I tried to eat more, I think I'd bust at this point."
Pepper Potts smiles and slides into the booth. "Oh, no, I'm right there with you on that. It'll definitely have to wait for another day." She looks around, then comments idly, "If the cannolis are so good, should I dare try the tiramisu?"
Phil Coulson shrugs. "I'll order cannoli, with a half dozen to go, and you order the tiramisu. If you don't like it, share my cannoli and take the rest home in a box."
Lola eventually gets them to the Bronx. It takes about 25 minutes. Not bad for New York Traffic. "Have you been to Tavern on the Green lately? They replaced the pianist with a harpist, and she's quite good. Though they bring the pianist and the harpist there on the weekends, make them play duets."
They find a parking spot a miraculous half block away. Phil eases Lola into place with smooth practice and then hops out of the car, gesturing for Pepper to wait. He makes his way around the car and opens her door, offering her a gentlemanly hand out of the car to the street.
On the corner of a nearby roof, a SHIELD observation agent peers down at the street scene and says into her wrist mic, "Blandman is in the Bakery, over, Blandman is in the Bakery, over." One of the hassles of being such high security. They want to know where you are at all times.
Phil closes the door behind pepper and uses his auto-lock function to lock the car up. Bald Chrome faces flip out and cover the dashboard as Phil leads Pepper toward the restaurant. "Thanks for not making a federal case out of that handgun incident. Believe me it wouldn't be the first odd F-27 I've filled out in my career."
Pepper Potts looks at Phil with a raised eyebrow and amused expression as he helps her out of the car. "F-27? Why am I not surprised that there would be paperwork involved? And really, it just caught me by surprise." Bag back on her shoulder, she follows him to the restaurant. "Tony's insisted on helping me learn how to control moving around in the suit more easily. It's been ... interesting."
Phil Coulson regards Pepper in the streetlight for a moment before they go into the restaraunt. He just shakes his head and chuckles to himself as he reaches for the front door to Anita Bella's.
The door chime is quaint and old fashion and jaunty as the door swings open, inviting Pepper to come in and take the lay of the land herself.
It's not fancy. Middle of the road decor, mostly from the 70's.
The smells coming out of the kitchen are incredible.
"You want the patio?" the hostess, Mama Anita herself there, supervising the seating of guests. "Oh, Phil, who's this charming creature?"
"Mama Anita, Pepper Potts. Pepper, Mama Anita." He leans in and gives Mama a big hug and a kiss on both cheeks. "Your canolli, Mama, I think you saved us a diplomatic incident earlier this week."
Pepper Potts hangs back for a moment as she takes in the restaurant's decor (quaint) and the way Phil greets Mama Anita (familial). Interesting, on both counts. And neither anywhere near approaching bad. She offers the hostess and restaurant owner one of her more genuine smiles but doesn't speak up. She's a newcomer here, after all.
Mama Anita takes Pepper by the hands and offers a quick buss of both cheeks before she pulls back and looks at Pepper and Phil together. "You make a cute couple. You look too smart for him though. You're too good for him, even though our Phil is a good boy."
"Your usual table in the back is ready, when you called earlier I made sure I put it on the book." She leads Phil and Pepper back to a four person booth near the kitchen.
Phil stands while Pepper deports herself and then takes his seat.
Pepper Potts knows enough European etiquette to handle Mama Anita's greeting gracefully enough, clearly amused by the older lady's assessment. She follows the hostess to the back of the dining area then settles into the booth they're escorted to. Her bag rests on the seat next to her, the medallion glowing for a brief second as she checks to make sure the thermos of tea is still intact.
Mama waits on Phil herself. He's been bringing a lot of business her way, naturally, she's fond of him. "So... you want fresh coffee? Half dozen Canolli? Tiramisu?"
Phil gives the friendly old lady a smile. "Yes to all of it, except I think Pepper would prefer just a tea cup and the Tiramisu. I'll have a half dozen canolli, and another three dozen for delivery before I go."
Mama glances over for Pepper's approval of this plan before scurrying off. 
Phil smiles at Pepper bemusedly. "She's right you know. You are too good for the likes of me. But would you do me the honor of attending a wedding with me? I've been invited to Thor's wedding but have no +1." He almost doesn't know when to shut up this time.
Pepper Potts nods her approval to Mama then smiles back at Phil with growing amusement as he rambles on a bit. He was doing the same during dinner, and she finds it endearing and highly amusing. Mr. Unruffled gets all teenager on a first date nervous. It's cute. "I think I got my own invitation as well, but that sounds like a plan..." wait. Clint. Drat. "Though..."
Phil tugs the cuffs of his sleeves briefly as Pepper responds. At first he's covinced she's said yes. Then his brow furrows. "What are you saying, Pepper?" he asks before leaping to any conclusions.
Pepper Potts tries to think of a polite way to phrase this, but can't think of any. So, she opts for the simple truth. "I was planning on inviting Clint to go with me." By the tone of her words, it's not a 'date' invitation she was intending to extend to the archer.
Phil does that fast processing thing he does so well. "Oh, so..." he waves his fingers back and forth gesturing at Pepper and an imaginary Clint. "Just like a brother, right?" 
He has forgotten how many brother's Pepper has. "So have him ready to pick up as well, you can glide on in with one of us on each arm." He chuckles at watching Tony's brain sizzle a little at the sight. "I was about to worry I had more competition in the room than a normal man ought to have to face." 
Billionaire, philanthropist, playboy... Phil could handle. Concerned, patient Tony? That was the Tony that worried Coulson the most.
Pepper Potts looks clearly relieved that Phil didn't misunderstand her. And then the thought of arriving at Thor's wedding with Clint on one arm and Phil on the other makes her start to giggle helplessly. "Okay. I might have to look into a doggie daycare for Arrow so Clint doesn't stress about him, or see if Thor and Sif will be okay with my having a full harem of an entourage."
Phil Coulson nods. "We could call Sif right now and ask her if you like. I have her phone number." He reaches for his cell phone as a server (not Mama this time) arrives with a french press coffee and a teacup for Pepper.
"Your desserts will be right out," says the server, a twentysomething young man who looked like he did a lot of auditioning as well as serving. "Will there be anything else while you're waiting?"
Pepper Potts ohs and nods to Phil when he offers to call Sif, she could have done so herself easily enough, but thought it might be kind of rude in the middle of a date. She doesn't mind at all if Phile calls, though. Then when the young man brings out coffee and a teacup for them, she smiles up at him. "May I have a glass of icewater, please?"
The young man nods and says, "Waters, right away as well." He zips away to take another order from the family that sat down right behind Pepper and Phil.
"They get a little busy here," says Phil. "You know what..." he puts the phone away. "I'll call Sif later, shen she won't have time to return my call and call us off. Then we can beg forgiveness if required, but mostly we'll be laughing up our sleeves at Tony. Perhaps we shouldn't tell Thor either and let him guess too." He chuckles.
"Oh, that's just evil. I like it." Pepper grins briefly as she pulls the thermos from her bag and carefully pours some of the still steaming beverage into the teacup. "I was mostly planning on inviting Clint because, well, a couple of weeks ago I ran into him in the lobby and he seemed... lost, maybe? Like he was trying a bit too hard to be happy about having nothing to do."
Phil Coulson shakes his head. "I've been worried about Clint for awhile. Just don't tell him I said so, he'd take it the wrong way. There are some private firms out there that would pay top dollar for his services, even if he's hard of hearing."
He just shakes his head. "It's sad. I never thought he would quit being an Agent. I thought he had it in his blood." 'Like me' goes unsaid. He fiddles with the french press until he can pour himself a cup of black coffee with that brighty oily sheen on the surface. "The man's dynamite in a crisis. It's the inbetween times that can get tough, Pepper." His own voice is a little wistful, thinking about all the opportunities he's traded over his life for his career.
Pepper Potts nods, picking up on the subtext of Phil's words. "I gave him a contractor position in R&D, to stress test new inventions, so he'd have something to do whenever he might need it. And, I've insisted on spending at least a couple of days a week eating lunch with him. Pizza all day every day just can't be healthy." 
Taking a sip of the Assam, she can't help but think on a few opportunities she's let pass by as well to keep her job with Stark Industries. Not that she has any true regrets, just ... what-ifs.
Phil nods. "I think we need to re-look at what sort of official contact and liasing is possible with ex-agents." Another master's thesis level of beauracromancy. Pepper knows it all too well, he's sure. "Is that a new shade of lipstick or have I just never been lucky enough to spot it?" he asks with a shadow of a grin.
Pepper Potts nods a bit absently at Phil's comment, but then blinks as he abruptly comments on, of all things, the lipstick she's wearing. As her brain catches up, she abruptly blushes. She actually blushes. "Um, no, not a new shade. Just one I don't wear often." It's more of a lip gloss, one of those silly things that supposedly changes shade to match each individual's personal complexion/skin chemistry/something arbitrary like that.
The server returns with two large waters, a tiramisu for Pepper and a plate of canolli for Phil. He deftly places the desserts on the table and retreats after a quick, "Bon Apetite, I'll be right back."
Phil would ordinarily be watching the desserts, or the door or something, but he can't really take his eyes off Pepper's blush. "I really like it. It suits you." He takes one chocolate dusted canolli and takes a bite, pure bliss.
"Pepper Potts. Practically Perfect in nearly every Pertinant, Pleasant and Punctual way," he says after swallowing and taking a sip of coffee. There's his real smile at last.
Pepper Potts looks at the tiramisu as it arrives, then can't help but stare at Phil. And then she starts laughing softly, still with a bit of a blush on her cheeks. "Okay, that was just silly." Clearly, though, silly isn't a bad thing. And that genuine and honest smile? Very definitely not a bad thing. And you know what? Turnabout is TOTALLY fair play.
"You need to smile like that a LOT more often. No, wait, I take it back. I'm feeling selfish all of a sudden and I don't want to have to share." And she's not talking about the tiramisu, as she's got her fork in hand but hasn't actually touched the dessert yet.
Phil just nods and smiles back at Pepper for a little bit before blowing on his coffee. "If you decide you'd rather have a bite of canelloni instead of your dessert, you'll have to decide what it's worth to you, Pepper." He takes the second canolli and prepares to consume it right in front of her.
The observer station is bored, but they can't really hear what's going on at the table. Or they might just be tuning in a little harder. Phil says, "Tony really has no idea how big a torch you carry for him, does he?" He doesn't know why he's said it, but there, it's out on the table. He knows how this is going to end. Flame out to the billionaire. But go down swinging. He shakes his head again. "Genius, but his blind spots are staggering."
Pepper Potts returns the smile for that little bit before paying the tiramisu attention again, and just as she's cutting off a small piece Phil tosses out that cannoli comment. She pauses with the small forkful of pastry in midair, one eyebrow raised, and a bit of a smirk on her lips. "Is that a challenge, Phil?"
Of course, then he goes on to mention Tony and, yeah. Ouch. She sets her fork down and sits back a bit in the booth. "No," she says softly, "he doesn't. That's kind of why I'm still there. I stand in his blind spots to make sure no one takes advantage of them." Even Pepper herself.
Phil Coulson toys with a third canolli, considering holding out for a bit on it and decides he can wait for it's perfect goodness, crisp, creamy, sweet, chocolately. Divine. "Stuck my foot in it right there, didn't I." 
He dabs his mouth with his napkin and waves for the check.
Phil flushes a little. "I'm screwing this all up. We were having a great time for a second there and I had to go and open up my big fat mouth and ruin it. Forgive me?" he asks.
Pepper Potts smiles and nods at the request for forgiveness, though there's a tiny hint of sadness behind it. She picks up her fork again and holds it as if making a toast. "To torches and practical perfection. And purple paisley."
Phil nods solemnly, "To Torches. And Practical. And Paisley," he says. He leans over and tinks her fork with his and takes that third canolli. Three left. "How's the tiramisu?" he asks before he pops his bite in his mouth and chews.
Pepper Potts finally tastes the tiramisu and can't help it, her eyes close as she smiles. "It's actually better than the cannoli." The varying flavors and textures of the pastry in question are balanced perfectly. "Here, want a piece?"
Phil Coulson just grins and leans forward and reaches with his fork. "That's just not possible!" he exclaims. He takes a bite. He freezes. "Oh, crap. You're right Pepper. It *is* better." He enjoys the bliss for a moment and follows it with coffee. "Canolli are portable though." he defends his desert.
Pepper Potts chuckles softly at that. "Ah, but the tiramisu is good enough to make you want to stop and savor it." She finishes the tea in her cup and uncaps the thermos for a refill.
Phil Coulson nods. "Superior in every way. I have to give you that, Pepper." And with lip gloss to boot. He pondered another canolli, but it seemed like a hollow victory in comparison to the tiramisu. "Well, it's official, we'll always have Mama's." He nods to her over his coffee cup, sipping contentedly.
Pepper Potts smiles at that. "You make it sound like that's all we'll have."
Phil Coulson shakes his head. "Not at all, Pepper, not at all. I'm just appreciating what I have, while I have it." His hand reaches across the table to twine his fingers in hers a little. "Isn't that enough in this crazy world we live and seem to thrive in?"
Pepper Potts gives Phil's hand a gentle squeeze. "It's enough for a start."
Phil Coulson just gives Pepper a smile. He waits a moment before untangling his fingers, and pays the check. "We should get to the art show or we'll never make it."
Oh, that's right! The art show! Pepper nods. "Right." The thermos goes back in her bag, and the last of the tiramisu disappears along with a sip of the ice water. "Ready when you are."
Phil Coulson escorts Pepper back out to the street, carrying a small box with a half dozen canolli in it, courtesy of Mama Anita. He offers Pepper his arm as the merge into the semi-busy Bronx sidewalk and make their way out of the restaraunt. As he walks up the street, Phil winks up at the observation team watching him, as he casually sets the canolli box on a ledge, in one smooth move.
"So, it's a quanit little place, but the food is first rate." He flashes a bit of a grin at Pepper before resuming is normal somber appearance. "I'm glad we got to do this Pepper. I'd hate having to make first date conversation at the Asgardian wedding.""
Meanwhile the observation team has dispatched a member of thier team to aquire said canolli, and possibly fresh coffee.
Pepper Potts takes Phil's arm and enjoys simply walking along. She misses his wink up at the observation team, but does notice the cannoli box getting left behind. She is about to ask when he mentions the wedding. "It's a fantastic little place. I'm honestly amazed I'd not stopped by there sooner. And I'm glad too. It would have definitely been way too awkward, especially considering how many friends I know both Thor and Sif have." She's quiet for a few more steps, then adds almost as an afterthought, "You should smile more often."
Phil gets Pepper the half block to Lola, still pristine. She's gathered a crowd of admirers. Phil tries to smile, but the threat to Lola is too high. "I'll keep that in mind. Maybe I just need more reasons to smile." He gives Pepper a little wink as he steps her up to the car through the crowd.
"Dayum! Hot car, hot babe! Who da hell are you mang?!" gets called out, among other things as Phil hands Pepper into the car and takes out his driving gloves, slipping them on as he banters with the crowd. "Don't touch Lola. She's very picky about who touches her."
He walks around the front of the car briskly before the crowd can turn on him and gets in, calling out, "Hey, and before you ask, the Car is Lola. My date and I are none of your business." SLAM! goes the car door. VROOOM! goes the engine. He takes off down the street to catcalls and drunken macho braggadocio, leaving them in the dust.
He turns toward Pepper for a moment, grin flashing. "Yeah. Smiling more is important." He turns around and heads for Upper Metropolis, the Upper East Side.
Pepper Potts takes the crowd around Lola with as much aplomb as can be expected of anyone who does pulic appearance stuff with Tony Stark. She simply offers the car-oglers a smile as Phil guns the car's engine and they start off. "Very important. Especially if Lola is going to draw that kind of crowd all the time." 
She settles more comfortably into the car's passenger seat, almost able to imagine driving along a country road with a pair of sunglasses shading her eyes and a silk scarf protecting her hair like a starlet from a 1960s movie.
Phil keeps the vette in second gear, until they're on the bridge, and then it's a low third gear. Phil weaves his way expertly off the expressway to the 80th street exit and takes it. He pulls into an alley and down the street where he approaches a driveway. 
The car's RFID activates the secure garage door and the door to the back of a plainish brick building open up into a two car gargae space, one plain blue sedan and Lola, parked side by side. There's a door to inside the building, to the main stairwell.
Phil takes off the gloves, leaves them on the dash and opens Pepper's door, and offers her a hand up. "Now, we take a shortcut..." he says, leading Pepper toward the door to the lobby. He opens the deadbolt and then unlocks the door and opens it for Pepper. "After you, Pepper..." he says with a casual drawl. He joins her when she passes through, locking the door behind him, with a set of keys she hasn't seen him with before. But they go back in the slacks pocket.
Pepper Potts looks at the blue sedan curiously as Phil helps her out of the vehicle, then follows him through the door. "This is awfully ... secret agent of you, Phil." Her eyes examine the area they're in, looking for clues. "Do I want to know what strings you've pulled to get such exclusive parking?"
Phil Coulson chuckles. "Don't worry, we're not breaking any laws." He crosses to the front door and holds it open for a nice lady with a cane. "Good evening Mrs. Dumbrowski... Pepper Potts, this is Eva Dumbrowski. She's one of my tenants." He holds the door open for her long enough for Mrs. Dumbrowski to toddle up and gawk at Pepper. She regards Pepper with a twinkle in her eye. Her voice is surprisingly deep and raspy. Perhaps she's a smoker. "Pleasure to meet you Pepper..."
Pepper Potts chuckles also, then smiles politely at Mrs. Dumbrowski until her mental DVR rewinds and replays what Phil just said. It's clear on her face when she actually picks up on what he said. Tenants? As in... he owns this building? "Oh, um, yes. A pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Dumbrowski."
Mrs. Dumbrowski makes her way down the hall to the elevator beside the mailboxes and presses the button. "You two make a very nice couple. You're so lucky, dear, he never brings lady friends over," she says and pats Peppers arm as the elevator arrives. Her departure and Phil's toward the door to the street again, he says, "The gallery is across the street and a few doors down on the right." He gives Pepper a real smile.
Observation team two is reporting in now. "Lola is in the building, looks like targets are moving to the street."
"And yet another layer of mystery is revealed," Pepper says in clear amusement. "Do you actually own this building, or are you simply a superintendent?" Because if it's the former, she will be understandably impressed.
Phil chuckles. "What's the difference betweent the two? Oh, I own it. I usually have a property management firm on scene, I'm a very hands off kind of landlord. I keep the one of the top two apartments for when I'm in town."
Coulson guides her out onto the sidewalk, and in front of a stopped car in the middle of the street to the other side of the street and up to the sidewalk. "Just over here," he says, indicating The Ash Fine Art Gallery, the name of the gallery painted in bold large letters across the top of the front door to the gallery.
Pepper Potts smiles and nods, then ohs as she looks at the gallery building. "I've been meaning to stop by here at some point, I just haven't had the time yet." She's drinking in the sight of the building as if the architecture itself were part of the exhibit... which is possibly true. Of course, then her eyes turn to see if there really is a public gallery showing or if this is another bid to impress her in the form of a private walk through a normally-closed gallery.
The gallery is indeed open, and there's a buzzing party going on as well, with wall to wall hipsters and other dates and people minging all around. Phil leads Pepper through the gallery though to the back of the gallery and then produces the key to yet another door. This one leads to the loft of the artist, where she lives, where she works.
On a table near the top of the stairs is a bottle of good red wine, two glasses and a note card that simply reads: "For Phil ~"
Downstairs the mingling creates a wall of white noise. The observation team two says. "We've lost audio on them."
"Do we override a cellphone?""
"We'd better not, no telling what he'd have to say about this given how much work he's gone to to make the date run smoothly."
Upstairs in the work space Phil says, "Lorinda told me I could show you the stuff she's currently working on. But I promised there'd be no touching, and no tripping."
Pepper Potts smiles as she sees the bustling party going on, but her expression goes toward confused then amused when he leads her to the artist's private work space. "Wait, really?" She smiles delightedly at that and actually sets her bag down next to the table that holds the red wine. "I can't tell you how many times I've tried to purchase one of her pieces, much less get to see them before they're ready."
Phil's smile is muted but genuine. "I've got one of her early pieces in my dining room, floral motif. It's lovely, if a little rougher than some of her current stuff." He expertly decorks the wine, check the cork for cracks or breaks and then pours a taster into the glass. It's a deep burgundy red, with a cherry finish and a hint of blackberry. He waits for Pepper to taste and approveb before pouring.
Pepper Potts accepts the taster of red wine and takes a sip, then smiles and nods approval. It's REALLY good. She'll have to be careful to not drink too much. "Really? I might recognize it, then. I've been following her work for a few years now. I /almost/ got one of her paintings to put in the Tower's lobby, but unlike Tony I refuse to pay ridiculous amounts over the actual value of items."
Phil nods as he pours for both of them, slightly more than a regulation six ounce pour of wine, more like an eight ounce pour and sets the bottle down on the table. He takes his wine glass and wanders over to a canvas that's being stretched and primed. "What kind of price range are you looking at? I'm sure that I can get Miss Ash to fit you into her schedule at some point."
Pepper Potts picks up her slightly overfull wine glass and follows Phil. "Ohhh, no. No pulling strings to my advantage. Half of the fun of curating an art collection is getting that perfect piece to add to it based on my own research and bargaining skills."
Phil Coulson nods his head to Pepper and says, "As you wish, Pepper, I'm just always happy to help."
Outside, observation team two continues to monitor. "Two heat signatures on the second floor, they're just walking and talking."
Back inside, Phil wanders over to a piece that's all but finished. Delicate lines and bold colors combine to make a lovely work that captures the power of a sunrise, with minimalist lines. "Oh, I like this one." He pauses and stares at it, until he's lost in thought.
Pepper Potts wows faintly. It would look STUNNING in her office, but there is NO way she's saying that out loud in front of Phil. Or Tony. So, to try and NOT seem too enamoured of the painting, she steps over to look at the one next to it, that's not quite as close to completion. The smooth combination of blues and greens make her think of an underwater landscape, which is pretty but not so much her taste.
Phil just looks at the painting for a little while longer. "What do you look for in art, Pepper?" He knows what he thinks, he's just not going to lob it out there like a conversational grenade. He takes a large sip of his wine as he looks at the really stunning piece.
Pepper Potts looks over at Phil and smiles briefly. "It's going to sound silly." She hesitates, stalls for time by taking a healthy swig of wine, then blinks as she realizes that's not the smartest thing to do, and finally answers. "I look for pieces that evoke an emotion in me. Like this," She gestures lightly to the blue and green piece, "is lovely and all, but that's it. No emotions attached to it."
Pepper Potts smile is like crack to an addict. Phil nods. "I'd say the same thing. You'd have liked my art history professor. Fran Lautenberger. Taught me introduction to art history at Northwestern. She always said: "If it doen't provoke an emotional response, it's not art, simply coloring to one degree or another."
Pepper Potts chuckles softly. "You're right, I would have liked her." She moves to another painting that's clearly only half finished. She looks at the vague shapes blocked out in red and gray, then after just a moment has to turn away and blink rapidly for a second to clear her eyes. Yeah. Shouldn't have taken that huge gulp of wine. It's already going to her head.
Phil Coulson finishes looking at the painting that was almost done. "That's a really electric work. I think I need to think about it." He retreats to the fully primed and blank canvas as his focal point and drinks more of his wine, his cheeks flushing slightly. "When I go to galleries..." he says, "I wander from room to room and I walk right up to a painting or scultpture or work that moves me, the one that moves me the most in that moment, and just gaze at it. Let it sink into my unconcious, and hope that it stays there." He gives Pepper a direct gaze with the beginnings of a smile on his face. "It's important to rememember that there is beauty and goodness in the world, to go along with all the evil and sloth and incompetence." And then it's like Pepper is the masterwork painting, and he can't look away.
Pepper Potts nods perhaps a bit quickly, not returning Phil's look but instead focusing on the sunrise painting again. "I can understand that." She clears her throat to try and make her voice more level again, then takes another sip of her wine. "I think for me," her voice sounds closer to normal again, "they remind me to stop rushing about and take the time to appreciate what's around me." Finally, with the help of the soothing sunrise painting, she feels calm enough to turn back and look at Phil. And notice his expression. And then turn very, very red.
Phil has enough sense to look away, his eyes settling on the blue and green number beside her. He's okay with uncomfortable silences though. He thinks for a little while and swallows a big swallow of wine. He fans himself. "Getting a little warm up here, don't you think?" The heat from the bodies below is oozing through the floor at last, making the warm summer night even warmer. "Maybe I should open a window."
Pepper Potts takes a hasty sip of wine as well, the glass now mostly empty. "Maybe that is for the best."
Phil Coulson nods and finishes his glass, setting it on the table next to the bottle and the card. He moves to a front window and opens it with some effort. He returns to the wine and pours himself another. "I think I can have another, I'm not driving home." He offers to refill Pepper's glass as well. "There's one more glass here if you like."
Pepper Potts is definitely already feeling the wine as she watches Phil force the window open. "I probably shouldn't." she did admit to being a lightweight, right?
Phil Coulson nods and says, "That's fine... I'm not going to try and get you drunk and take advantage of you." He'll just leave that last glass in the bottle on the table then. He takes a sip. "I don't get to drink often, but two is my hard limit." He adjusts his tie slightly and looks down and away briefly. "Would you like to see the piece of hers I have in my dining room? I can call a car service for you from my apartment."
Pepper Potts snorts indelicately, then puts a hand over her mouth in mortification. "Sorry. Um, sure. Yes. Please." She finishes the wine in her glass even if that's probably not the wisest thing she could do, then sets it carefully back on the table with the bottle.
Phil Coulson escorts Pepper back downstairs and locks the door behind him and seeks out the gallery owner to give her the key. "Left you a glass of expensive cab in the bottle upstairs, Ms. Ash," he says before introducing Pepper. "Lucinda Ash, Pepper Potts, Pepper, Lucinda..." He's not sure if they've actually met before or not.
Pepper Potts reclaimed her bag and follows Phil back downstairs, where she's delighted to meet Ms. Ash. "A true pleasure to meet you, Lucinda. And thank you for letting us take a sneak peek at the new pieces in progress. They're already very striking, and I can't wait to see them completed." The main gallery floor is much cooler than the upstairs area was, and it's helping mitigate the effects of the wine.
Lucinda Ash is always vivacious and bubbling. "Oh of course, darling, it's lovely to meet you. Did you two like anything? No, don't tell me, they're not done and I don't want to know."
Phil just smiles, knowing Lucinda's preferences in this area. He urges, "You should give Pepper a shot at owning one of those, you know. She's a real fan."
Lucinda just beams and squeezes Peppers fingers. Phil finishes half his wine and offers the glass to Lucinda who accepts and finishes the glass with gusto. "Oh, Phil, you have such good taste in wine..." she says. "And women," she adds, quite softly with a wink in Pepper's direction.
Lucinda is called away by a gushing fan offering to buy one of her pieces on the floor and it had to happen *right now*. Phil leads Pepper back to the street and opens the door for her.
Observation team two records: "They're back out front of the gallery, picked up primary and secondary targets."
Pepper Potts is delighted by Lucinda and actually lets Phil's comment about her wanting to own a piece slide. She steps out of the gallery and waits for Phil to join her, and for the first time (maybe due to the wine?) can't shake the sensation that someone is watching her. She looks around but of course doesn't see anything untoward.
Phil Coulson escorts Pepper back across the street to his brick townhouse and then into the lobby. He calls for the elevator and then he can't decide what to do with his hands. At the sides? Feels awkward. Behind the back? Too standoffish. Fiddling with something? Right, he could probably fiddle with his keys now. He starts to dig his housekeys out and then fidgets with them, making them jingle a little as he smiles at Pepper. The elevator arrives and Phil holds the door open for her and enters after her.
Pepper Potts can't help but notice the fidgeting, but the elevator arrives before she can do anything about it. However, once they're in the elevator and on their way to Phil's apartment, she forestalls any further fidgeting by taking his hand in hers. Maybe it's impulsive and a bit premature, but the fidgeting would have gotten to her if she'd let it go on.
Phil Coulson calms down almost instantly as Pepper grabs his hand, it's like his blood pressure just dropped fifteen points. The elevator plays Vivaldi on the way up and then they're at the sixth floor. Phil shows her to his door, a plain, but freshly painted white door that says 6B on it.
He slips the key in the lock and opens the door. "Let me show you around..." He enters the sizable apartment. The entrance leads into a large single living space that contains a living room, kitchen and dining room all combined into one. The furniture is modern and tasteful and the art is thought provoking.
Over in the dining area, Phil's got one of Lucinda's early works there, and it's stunning and complicated, with red and beiges and pale blues of autumn. It's wry and rustic and pastoral at the same time and yet, she was already developing her spare style even then.
Phil just leads Pepper over to the dining table and turns on the light that makes the painting glow golden in the soft amber light. He returns to her side and takes her hand again. "This is it: She says it's named Autumn Ephemera." He thinks hte name's a little pretentious, but it doesn't really detract from the work.
Pepper Potts looks around the apartment as they step into the great room, and it's clear when she sees the painting. Her attention is riveted to it, and she follows Phil over to study the colors and shapes now that the dining room light is on. "It's stunning." She looks ready to stand here and stare at the painting for at least a while longer.
Phil Coulson stares companiably at his painting with Pepper's hand in his for some time. Then he realizes he's about to start staring again. Must be getting tired. He goes over and sits on the couch and picks up his land line. "Do you want me to call you a car, Pepper? It won't take a moment." He yawns, pretty big. It's been a long day. "I do have a guest room, with it's own bath if you prefer." He's quite while Pepper ponders this. When she turns to answer him, he's slumped over on the sofa, wine blitzed out and exhausted. He's leaning over the phone that's managed to dangle out of his hand back onto the cradle and his lush comfy couch has swallowed him to dreamland.
Pepper Potts ohly half-registers Phil's question about calling for a car, as she's still engrossed in the painting. By the time she's aware enough to look around, she sees Phil sitting on the sofa and walks over to ... oh. Poor guy. She debates waking him up, but worries that he's enough like Tony that he won't go back to sleep again. So instead, she gently frees his hand from the phone cord, slips his shoes off of his feet, and looks to see if there's an afghan or something of that sort within easy reach.
The couch has a coverlet that works nicely, made of a charcoal grey polar fleece throw. Not too warm, not to light. Just right. Phil is completely passed out.
Observation team two reports in: "Subjects are in easternmost sixth floor apartment. Residents of westernmost apartment are already in bed. Looks like things are gonna be quiet until morning."
"So, Fruit Ninja?"
"Fruit Ninja it is."
And Phil sleeps on, giving Pepper full run of the house, really, and an insight into the buttoned up fellow.
Pepper Potts settles the coverlet over Phil and after a moment of deliberation reaches to loosen his tie. It's the best she can do. It crosses her mind that she could text JARVIS to have a car sent over, but she'd feel bad about leaving Phil's apartment door unlocked. So she settles in for the night as well, taking off her shoes and settling into one of the couch's matching overstuffed chairs. Sinfully comfortable. Another coverlet is claimed, and after a few more minutes Pepper is asleep as well.
Category:Log