2014.02.27 - Commiseration One Pint at a Time

Pepper is rarely ever THAT angry. Though really, she isn't even truly angry. She's more hurt than anything. Tony hasn't said anything that assholeishly insensitive in a LONG time, and she thought she'd learned to shrug off insensitive comments almost as long ago. 
But no. 
She and Clint are already back in New York, pints of Ben & Jerry's in an insulated tote bag and on their way to his apartment to hang out with Pizza Dog and watch whatever horrible movie they find on TV. And yet, Pepper still can't get Tony's voice out of her mind. "yip yip yip". "bark bark bark". Over and over. She's trying to maintain a calm expression, but she can tell she's not succeeding.
Man, Clint isn't sure how to handle this. He was never good when Bobbie was upset, either, because he had this really bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth. Probably /still/ has it, actually, which is why he's being quiet for the most part. Ice cream should help, though, and he's already ordered pizza to be delivered to his place not long after they arrive.
Because he has an app for that. Of course he does.
"Hey, buddy," Clint says, when he opens the door and of course Pizza Dog is there to greet him. Enthusiastically, as always, though he's a bit more sedate when he approaches Pepper next. Dogs know. They really do. "Do you want something to drink? Think I have a bottle of wine from my housewarming party somewhere...."
"Just some water, thanks." Pepper offers the sweet and sensitive dog a smile, then lets Clint take all but one pint of the ice cream to the kitchen. She kicks off her shoes just inside the door and -- oddly -- she leaves her shoulder bag there as well. Shedding her winter coat to throw over the back of the sofa, she claims one corner of the sofa, tucking her feet up underneath her legs and allowing Pizza Dog to crawl up on her lap... if he's allowed on the sofa. You know what? Screw it. Rules be damned for ONE evening. She'll BUY a new sofa for Clint if he's much of a priss about it. Though she knows he won't be. "Oh, and may I borrow a spoon, too?"
Pfft. Pizza Dog is basically his roommate, of course he gets to be on the couch! Clint rummages around in the kitchen for a while, and re-appears with spoons, his own pint of ice cream (no sharesies) tucked between his arm and side (cold cold cold cold) and drinks. Water for Pepper, as requested, and a beer for himself. He's only just unloaded everything, taken his own coat off, and sat down when there's a knock on the door.
Sigh.
Pizza Dog knows that knock, though, so Clint gets back up, answers the door, and makes with the exchange of money for goods before he finally gets to sit down for REAL, with two piping hot pizza pies. "Remote's all yours," he says, motioning to it sitting on the arm rest next to Pepper.
Pepper Potts takes up the remote flips channels seemingly aimlessly for a few minutes before stopping on a recently released movie about Romans or something of the sort. Setting the remote aside, she finally reaches for a slice of pizza, trying to do so without unsettling Pizza Dog from his spot draped across her lap. "Thanks, Clint," she finally offers quietly. "For not making me try to explain that."
"Is that Channing Tatum?" Clint asks, and then, yeah, those are Channing Tatum's abs. He takes a sip of beer and shrugs. Dude's built. He opens the top box- pepperoni, ham, sausage and hamburger- and there is a clear amount of conflict in Pizza Dog's doggy face. Pizza, or staying in Pepper's lap.
To be honest, Clint's kind of surprised he doesn't move. Even when Pepper gets her own slice, he doesn't try to beg. "Good dog," he mumbles, and pats PD on the head before feeding him a piece of ham. "You don't have to explain anything."
Pepper Potts shrugs slightly, having picked the movie as something she's not seen before. "I wasn't really paying attention. I can change it if you want." The fact that the actors are easy on the eyes is simply a bonus, and she's not in any frame of mind to truly appreciate the eye candy on the screen. She also rewards PD by sharing all of the sausage off of her pizza slice, so the dog likely has a LOT of incentive to stay right where he is. It takes just the one slice, the dog on her lap, and Clint nearby offering no annoying platitudes or questioning to give her the time she needs to calm down, and for that voice in the back of her head to go away. The sign of a true friend: someone who knows when to pry and when to just share pizza, ice cream, and a movie.
Category:Log