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Summary: Not the most original title, but it'll do for now. Any FFAs that aren't part of the other stories. Just in: Satsu/Hajime Ichinose (Gatchaman Crowds)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Multiple Pairings > Ficlet Collections - FFA
Movies > Disney
(Moderator)JoeHundredaireFR184261,801635188,79924 Aug 0624 Aug 13Yes

Full Service (Willow/Pepper Potts)

Title: Full Service
Author: JoeHundredaire (
Rating: R/FR18.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Buffyverse or that giant tangled Marvel comic-slash-movie universe which has even more copyright claim issues due to the original material versus movie people versus producers and distributors… so yeah. Not mine!
Summary: "I do anything and everything that Mister Stark requires."
Joe's Note: Since what FlipSideofMadness did with the Tony/Fred FFA made me wince, I figured I'd take this one and run off with it before he/she could screw it up too.

     "Good morning, Mistress Willow. It's 7:00 A.M. and the weather in Malibu is seventy-two degrees with scattered clouds. The surf conditions are… completely irrelevant, really, since you take to water about as well as a brick. Your plans for the day include meeting with a 'Mister Angel' at the offices of Wolfram & Hart in Los Angeles, as well as meeting with your husband to discuss upgrades to my program. You do remember your husband, correct?"

     "Mmmph. Shuddup, Jarvis, or I'll overwrite your personality subroutines with something patterned after this girl Harmony I used to go to school with." Willow Stark née Rosenberg opened her eyes, squinting at the light now streaming into the formerly dark bedroom. Eventually they focused and she took in the various bits of information being projected on the unique and high-tech windows that looked out over the Pacific. Stark Industries stock was up, as always, and her daughter corporation Red Tree Programming was progressing nicely as well. It was a symbiotic match made in heaven, much like herself and Tony. He made the toys, and then she helped make them work. He helped her find rare magical texts and spell components, and then she made magic. Heaven.

     Well, almost heaven. Tony had to travel far too often both as the CEO of Stark Industries and as Iron Man, while Willow had commitments to both the Scoobies and the Fang Gang that kept her from being an obedient little wife-slash-shadow that followed him around. So they each had their own life, enjoyed what time together they could make, and when they were apart… well… "Jarvis, what does Pepper have on her agenda this morning?"

     "Miss Potts is supposed to be at her desk in two hours, and remain there until proceeding to the Stark airfield at noon to receive Master Tony. I assume from there, he will dictate her schedule for the remainder of the day." A ghostly figure appeared on the windows, staring at her as it polished a pair of glasses. "I personally recommend you two send for the cleaners to remove what must be an overbearing odor from your constant fornication."

     Chuckling against Willow's breast, Pepper brought one hand up to tuck a long strand of red hair behind her ear. "Where should they start? They need to air out the bedroom…"

     "…and the kitchen…"

     "…and the dining room…"

     "…and the living room…"

     "…and there's no way we can let them into Tony's workshop." The two redheads looked at each other before giggling. Pepper stretched languidly before sighing and flopping back down atop Willow, their matching green eyes locking. "Well, I guess I know what you're doing with your morning, since I have to get to the office."

     Willow scrunched up her nose in displeasure. Ugh. Cleaning. She'd been spoiled over the last year, living with a man who had several maids, a personal chef, a chauffer, and a personal assistant to make sure they all applied themselves to the needs of the Starks at optimal efficiency. She hadn't cleaned since… well, since she'd dumped Kennedy and struck out on her own, away from the Scoobies. Although without her friends and their constant worrying, there was a way she could speed the thoroughly undesirable task along. "Maybe I can just magick the smells away."

     Sitting up, Pepper stretched again and then yawned as she ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. "Two problems with that. One: your magic and Tony's toys mix like you and television interviews." Willow stuck out her tongue at that; was Pepper ever going to let her live that disastrous Entertainment Tonight segment down? "Two: even if you magick the smell away, that doesn't help the fact that we did it on his desk and all those papers and gadgets are still scattered all over the floor."

     "Oh. Pooh." Willow furrowed her brow as she tried to figure out another way of getting out of cleaning, but was distracted as Pepper continued to stretch and twist, working out the kinks. Licking her lips, Willow reached out and slowly let her hand drift up and down the smooth skin of her lover's back. "Don't suppose you know when Tony's next business trip is going to be?"

     Pepper paused in her contortions, shivering as she pressed herself back against Willow's touch. "Yes. You're not going to like it, though."

     Hmm. That meant… what? Either it lined up with her period (and how embarrassing was it that Pepper had THAT little tidbit committed to memory) or… Willow pouted. "I'm going to be in Scotland, aren't I?"

     "Mmmhmm. At least for the first half. He's still got a week and a half of his European tour after you get back, though." Oh. So yay. Willow sat up, wrapping her arms around Pepper from behind and resting her cheek on the taller redhead's shoulder. "And your period falls during that week in Scotland, so it's not like we'd be able to have much fun anyways. Although with both of you out of the house, it gives me time to restock all your favorite foods and such before you get back."

     Blush. Looking over at the window, Willow grinned. 7:15 AM. "You know, you don't have to be at work for nearly two hours… and it's only a forty-five minute commute. Thirty if you let Happy drive and fifteen if you decide to Iron Pepper it for the day." Pulling back on Pepper, Willow tipped the taller woman back onto the bed and then swiftly slung a leg over her hips to straddle her waist. "Gives us at least an hour before we have to get up, right?"

     Pepper looked over at the window and then bit her lip as she smiled up at Willow. "You know, we haven't taken advantage of that giant tub you got Tony to put in last month… and we both know you and he can't because of the arc reactor…"

     Oooh. That sounded like fun. "You're on." Hopping off Pepper, Willow tugged her fellow redhead upright and led the laughing woman into the bathroom. A second later, she poked her head back out and waved her hand. Drawers opened and articles of clothing began to jump across the room to hover beside her, and then the closet door slid open so Pepper's business suit could join the mix. Willow did a quick check: two bras, two pairs of panties, one Pepper suit, one pair of jeans, one t-shirt, one pair of stockings, one pair of rainbow toe socks… yup. Clothing accomplished. Giving the clock one last look, she ducked back into the bathroom.

     7:17. Time was a-wasting.

     Punching the security code into the keypad, Tony Stark opened the door and stepped into his private lab. Once upon a time, he'd brought many a camera crew down here to give interviews as he showed off his collection of vintage cars. Now it was home to the single deadliest piece of weaponry in the entire world, and had the security system to match. Every conceivable kind of sensor he could find, encompassing most of the electromagnetic spectrum, air quality testers, pressure pads, the works. All with the world's sole true artificial intelligence to monitor it. "Jarvis? Any visitors while I was gone?"

     There was a brief pause, which made Tony arch an eyebrow, but eventually the basement's holoprojectors whirred to life and a male figure appeared. When pressed, Willow had admitted she'd based it on a figure out of her past… some British chap named Rupert Giles. Tony didn't particularly care: it wasn't one of her exes and therefore something creepy, and it really did fit the personality he'd coded. "Yes, sir. Miss Potts and Missus Stark ventured down here several times." Tony's other brow went up and while Jarvis didn't elaborate, the hologram's eyes drifted over to look in the direction of the larger of the two desks in the workshop.

     Tony was many things, but an idiot wasn't one of them. Taking the hint, he wandered over and frowned. Someone had been messing around with his stuff. And not even in a subtle way; the entire surface had been rearranged. The papers were stacked neatly and, upon quick inspection, using Willow's preferred method of sorting. The bits and pieces of new Iron Man tech he'd left behind had likewise been sorted by purpose. Well, that told him who. The question now was… why?

     Just as he was about to turn away from his desk, Tony paused as something caught his eye. Purple? Lifting a thick folder, his eyes widened as he discovered a pastel purple thong. That was… interesting. Checking the tag, he frowned. Too big to be Willow. Not by too much, though; only a size or two. Using his model ex-girlfriends to establish a rough size guide, he let his mind wander over who Willow knew that was roughly the right size. The only possibility he could come up with was… Pepper?

     Which was more likely: Pepper doing something questionable by herself and Willow cleaning up in an attempt to hide the evidence? Or Pepper and Willow doing something questionable together and Willow cleaning up in an attempt to hide the evidence? Given how much Willow despised cleaning… and that she'd been with women in the past… he was going to go with Door Number Two. "Jarvis?"

     "Yes, sir?"

     "Did you at least get any good video?"

     "Yes, sir. Several terabytes. Would you prefer to view it on a conventional screen, or using the holographic projectors?"

     Hmm. Choices choices. "Let's go with the conventional screen for now, Jarvis. Dummy, get me scotch, on the rocks." Tony grinned as he dropped into his computer chair and leaned back. So his wife was cheating on him. As far as upper class marital problems went, that was near the low end of the scale. And at least she had damn good taste.
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