[For Peter] Backdated to 28 Jan 2012

[wildlyconflicted]

The closer they edged toward the end of January, the more Pepper couldn't help but hope that this year they'd get through the month unscathed. She'd never been a superstitious woman, didn't put the flimsiest stock even in horoscopes, and she knew very firmly and very logically that the timing of past disasters had been coincidental. Hadn't there been other altercations in other months? There shouldn't have been anything inherently imposing about the first month of the year. She was born in January, for god's sake, and objectively she knew better. But even so, the feeling of anxiety was pervasive, and didn't seem likely to wane until they'd crossed into February.

Part of that feeling, she thought, could very well be due to Peter having moved out of the mansion. That he was fully capable of taking care of himself, Pepper had little doubt. It made her feel better, though, to keep an eye on him. Especially now, with the threat of something awful looming over the three of them. She turned up on his doorstep with frightening regularity these days, and about two weeks ago had stopped making excuses for why she was there. They both knew the truth of it.

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[daretodo]

"Door's open!" I call out from the kitchen, only my legs in view. Laying flat on my back, I'm underneath the sink to fix some of the plumbing that's been acting up lately. Given that I more or less built everything in this place, it seemed only right that I be the one to play Bob Villa when it breaks.

Especially when I'm the one who did most of the breaking, too. I did a real number on this place all those months ago, and I'm still paying for it, now -- in more ways than one. It's a sight fairer than it was after the snow first disappeared, but there's work left to do in every room save the lab, which was my priority for science's sake, if nothing else.

[wildlyconflicted]

"I've brought you lunch," Pepper announced as she strode into the room. After a confused moment wherein she thought Peter was perhaps in the bedroom, she caught sight of his feet around the other side of the kitchen table and deposited her bag into a chair before stepping around to peer down at him with interest.

"If you can pull yourself away from your DIY, Mr. Fix-It."

[daretodo]

"I prefer Captain Fix-It, thank you very much," I say, pushing my glasses up my forehead to get a good look at her from the ground before I make to sit up properly. "Or Fix-It-Man, pretty sure that one's not taken yet."

Pulling myself up to my feet, I look from Pepper to the bag. "It's really already time for lunch? I only got up..." My face falls as I glance down at my watch. "...hours ago, wow. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess."

[wildlyconflicted]

"How is it going?" Pepper asked with a slight jerk of her chin in the general direction of the sink. From inside the bag she pulled out several plastic containers and a thermos and set them neatly on the table. "Making some progress in all those hours, I hope."

It was a bit odd, the domestic small talk, but not in a bad way. Sometimes you needed the mundane, Pepper thought.

[daretodo]

"It's a way to unwind," I reply, shrugging before I collapse, bodily, into the nearest chair, dragging forward one of the containers to see what she's brought today. It all reminds me a bit of something Aunt May used to do, honestly. Checking in on me, bringing food, making sure I'm not running myself too ragged. While a part of me thinks I should feel a bit crowded, it's too appreciated for me to bother with any bogus kind of front.

"Frees up the ol' brain to think about different problems, yanno? I've never been too good at the whole uni-task thing. I'm a multi-guy all the way."

[wildlyconflicted]

"You and Tony both," Pepper knowingly remarked as she set about dispensing each of them a plate, utensils and glasses. Settling into an adjacent chair, she poured herself some juice and cast a quick, uncertain glance Peter's way.

"We're nearly out of January," she said, tone deceptively casual.

[daretodo]

I lean forward almost immediately at the comment, pressing two fingers to my lift, and holding my other hand in front of me, palm facing her to stop her from going further down that train of thought.

"Shh, you'll jinx it!"

I'm not superstitious, but given our January track record, it's pretty much up there with 'what's the worst that could happen?'

[wildlyconflicted]

In response, Pepper curled the fingers of her right hand under and rapped her knuckles on the top of the wooden table. Her smile, while reserved, relayed that she wasn't superstitious herself, yet an underlying uncertainty remained in her eyes.

"Feel better?" she asked after, and resumed dishing some food out onto her plate.

[daretodo]

"Nope, we need salt," I say, making a show of looking around for the shaker that I don't even have. "And-- What else are you supposed to do again? Is there an anti-bad luck dance? Some kind of ritual?"

[wildlyconflicted]

"Yes, I think it involves a skinny man with brown hair impersonating a chicken," Pepper replied with a quirk of her smile, and then waved her fork Peter's way. "Please, go right ahead. Better safe than sorry, after all."

[daretodo]

I know she's joking, but I jump up, anyway, pressing the backs of my hands behind me so that I can simulate wings with my arms. I get about as far as lifting one leg to scratch at the floor with my foot before I fake a look of realization, and point an accusing finger her way.

"Hey, waaaaitaminute! That's not right. Everyone knows it's the redhead that's supposed to do the chicken dance!"

[wildlyconflicted]

"Not in my world," Pepper was quick to counter with a brief shake of her head and a laugh. "You did it so brilliantly I think we're safe regardless. I applaud your enthusiasm for the task." Putting down her fork, she literally did so, bringing her hands together in a brisk little clap.