Author's Note: wow. You guys have just blown us away with your responses to this fic. So many thoughtful comments! We love that you're loving this, though we're having such a good time with it that we'd probably still write it even if we were getting flamed. ;)

- 4persephone and NeonDaisies

She blinks at him a minute, but he keeps on rambling…"I mean I've said a million times I'd vouch for you but no one is listening anymore. Your second in-depth background check just raised too many flags…they need to 'debrief' you" He finally looks over at her with a bitter grimace. "You need to keep your head to the ground until I get this straightened out, because if you don't, your kid might just be born at Gitmo. Rhodey's new CO isn't just a dick, he's also an incompetent and overreactive prick."

It should be laughable. It shouldn't bother her that someone is digging into her past because for one thing she knows there's nothing there to find and for another she can have this matter cleared up by noon. What she's not prepared for however, is the surge of guilt that washes through her. She turns her head away the moment she feels it, but it comes up on her like a huge wave that moves much too fast.

"Pepper..." His voice is kind of quiet, but there's a wry sort of humor caught up in the pain. "I know you're innocent. I've had Jarvis monitor every file that comes in and out of the mansion since I was sixteen. For the record though, the next time you have prior experience working with the CIA, I prefer you just tell me."

"What?" Her head snaps around so fast her neck cracks. Her eyes are wide as saucers, and she's unconsciously gripping the armrest on her door. She wants to deny it…but it's all there in his eyes, and there's no point in lying.

The grin that he shoots her when he speaks again stings, but not in the way that she expects it to. "Here's a hint for the guys up top: if they're gonna plant fake interview subjects for your background checks, they should really make sure that they all know how you actually take your coffee."

She stares at him in disbelief, and then covers her eyes with one hand. "Oh god. Oh my God." She can't believe it. He knows.

He shrugs a little, face almost whimsical. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Pepper. I'm probably the only one who does know. I have to say...it adds a certain… clarity… to things. I mean, I always wondered why someone with your skills wasn't doing more than shit work as a PA when you could have been the head of your own company." He shakes his head, returning his gaze to the road. "Also I wondered about the thing on the roof...I mean I know there's chemistry there...but I didn't get where all the fear was coming from. Now though I suppose I get it. You must have to stick to a set of rules when undercover and not sleeping with the man you're supposed to spy on pretty much tops the list."

Her hand slips down her face and this time her head turns towards him ever so slowly. "Tony," she says in a voice that's chock full of warning. "I used to work for the government. Emphasis on used to, as in formerly. Getting your coffee every morning wasn't a ruse. I am not – was not – working for anyone but you."

"Come on now, Potts. Don't take it so hard. You wouldn't be the first plant I've had on my staff. At least you're loyal to the US of A." She only stares at him like he's grown another head. He continues on with a tone that almost sounds bemused. "I have to thank you for staying out of my bed, really...I mean a pretty face is a pretty face, but I'd really prefer not to have to spread my legs for my country."

She simply sits there and watches the world cave in. Stares at his features and knows he believes every word he's said.

"Actually, I think you're accusing me of being the whore for my country." It's so wrong…so fucked up. She has no idea what to say. "Or at least, you're implying I considered it. However, seeing as how I don't work for the government, the point is moot. I didn't sleep with you because it would have turned me into a cliché."

"Yes, well as it turns out I'm one myself. I mean I haven't even kissed you and I am one. A cliché I mean." He shrugs "In the scope of things, I suppose that makes us pretty much even."

He didn't believe her, wasn't going to believe her. Of course she could try and beat the reality into him, but it probably wouldn't do too much good. She could be on the phone to Jess in ten minutes and have the man completely briefed, but it would change very little.

He'd lived with the idea - with the doubt - for too long now. And sometimes fearing something might be real was as bad as having it happen. Sometimes it was worse.

She looks down at the baby asleep in her belly, looks back on all the agonizing choices she'd made to keep it. And then in that moment she wonders, for the first time if she'd done the right thing.

They get to his house and Pepper is out of the car before he had the engine turned off. She marches up the walk to the front door, blows past Happy who looks astonished, and goes into the kitchen to turn the heat on under the tea kettle. She slams around, looking for tea, sugar, cream, mugs, and just for the hell of slamming around. She's pissed off that Tony won't listen to her or believe her. He's essentially just said her only motivation for both working for him and resisting him was because someone else had told her to.

'I resisted him because he was an ass, and he proved it every fifteen minutes. The fact that he was hot as hell the other fourteen was a unfair distraction.'

Damn it! What did the man think she'd done at the frickin' CIA? Honestly, it wasn't much different than what she'd done for him, just without all the babysitting. She is – was – damn good at what she does, and he seems to think that it was all some ruse so that big brother could keep his eye on him?!

Unbelievable. The man is not at all observant. That's what Happy's job is. Honestly, the government also had a very big stake in seeing the bastard kept alive. He's been watching Tony since the man was twenty-four, and all Tony sees when he looks at the man is a smiling face that lets him eat too many cheeseburgers.

"Ms Potts." Happy has followed her into the kitchen. He has the biggest, dumbest shit ass grin on his face she's ever seen. "It is so good to see you M'am. He's been impossible, I'm telling you…." He hugs her than startles as the baby kicks, "Whoa, when did you get a kid?"

"She doesn't have one yet." Tony's voice is dry as he follows her in and hands Happy her only set of keys. "I believe the term that applies in her case is 'a new work in process.' Now I want you to find Larry and get him to bring the second car around. You and he are going to be bringing the lovely mama-to-be home just as soon as she stops glaring holes through walls and finishes her non-caffeinated cup of baby-safe tea."

"Why is he wandering around alone?" she demands, ignoring Tony and addressing her question to Happy. "Or are you wired to Jarvis too? You didn't seem to know we were coming."

Happy snorts. "He slips the leash so often these days we pick our fights. Besides he's more agreeable when he's let out to run for awhile. Jarvis hasn't spoken to me yet today; he was on babysitting duty."

"I'm so glad to hear you referring to me as if I were your dog," Tony barks out with derision. "For the record, after you drop off Pepper, I'm taking a shower, and then you and Larry are fired."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "You're not firing Happy, Tony." She looks at the bulkier man, "If this is 'agreeable,' I shudder to think what he's been like before today."

"You have no idea in hell, Ma'am," is Happy's morose reply. Tony snorts to himself and heads over to the refrigerator.

"For the official record, Happy, she's not on the payroll anymore. That means she doesn't get any say." He pours himself a glass of water and drinks it down, "That mean you're fired...after you get her safely home, of course. Now if this act of the three stooges is done, I'm going to change and head into downtown for the day."

"If I'm CIA then I outrank you," she snaps. "And you're not going anywhere." She slams a second glass of water onto the table in front of him; it sloshes everywhere, including on his dirty shirt. With a lesser slam she puts down a prescription bottle. "Bottoms up, Stark. Take your pills and then try and look pretty."

He all but snarls, "I don't need them. I can stay calm if people will fucking leave me alone." And he slams into what can only be the back bedroom, leaving the bottle still unopened.

Happy watches him go with a low groan and then he winces. "And he was in a good mood...well, what passes for it these days. He doesn't need the nitrates, Potts. If he's not having trouble breathing, he just needs to calm down... How in heck did you get here? Were you just feeling saintly today?"

"Jarvis said he needed them." She replies back with fervor. She ignores the dig about her return, because it doesn't really matter at the moment. Happy looks over head at her words, and calm voice rang out of the overhead speakers as Jarvis chimes in at last. "He did not take his morning meds, Happy. He was up and out to the beach by 4:30. And his breathing still is not as good as it should be. He and Pepper encountered one another by mistake…"

'Mistake indeed.' The universe has a sick sense of humor. Pepper makes the effort to calm down. She rubs her belly, wincing as the baby shifts and starts kicking at her spine. "Happy, leave my car where it is. I'm going to sit down for awhile. Then we're going to have a talk…I'm in this for worse or for better…"

Larry, who has also entered by now smiles and leads her to a stuffed chair in one corner. "You look amazing, and I can not begin to tell you how much we've missed you."

She sits there in silence and drinks her tea. It takes her fifteen minutes, and then Happy offers her another, which she accepts. By the end of the second cup the tsunami inside her has finally settled, and the room she's begins to come into a much better focus. The place is shabby. Far below usual Stark standards, which makes no sense. With all the five star hotels down by the river in the city, what were they even doing here? "Happy, why in hell aren't you all at the Hilton? This place is a pigsty. I can't believe he's actually staying here."

Happy's been in the kitchen all this time, washing dishes in the sink. He puts down a plate and comes to squat down in front of her, shaking his head with a wry smile. "We do have a regular suite back in town at the Hilton, Pepper. He just refuses to use it." He draws a deep breath, "He's supposed to be here recovering, but he's not exactly towing the line. Rhodes arranged for a doctor to make regular check ups and he went AWOL on us. We found him down in a tent on Tybee beach with a huge umbrella and the keys to this pathetic little place."

The headache is back and she rubs at the back of her neck without much hope. These tension headaches have been killing her for weeks now. "How long has he been on that prescription? And don't sugarcoat it. I have never seen him this out of control before."

She trusts Happy to be honest. He's Tony's employee. The fact he was once her friend has nothing to do with it at the moment, which is why she asks.

Happy shrugs. "After the heart attack they put him on several drugs...before that it was just a bad temper...now he's easily dizzy and surly." The chauffer shrugs again and shakes his head. "He and Colonel Rhodes had a falling out that was nasty, Pepper – I've honestly never seen anything like it. Rhodes has been trying to get him to talk to him for weeks but Tony won't even acknowledge he exists."

Pepper looks at Happy. Goes for broke. "Tell me the truth: how much of this is my fault? And again, don't sugarcoat it."

She waits for an answer almost dreading the outcome. The man is personally responsible for Tony's physical wellbeing. His first loyalty has always been to his employer. Pepper figures it is going to be as unprejudiced an answer as she can hope to get.

Happy only shrugs. "That's a matter of perspective, Pepper. Depends on how direct you are with the whole subject of cause and effect."

She shoots him a glare, and Happy sighs in defeat, then he stares up at the ceiling a minute before he tries again with a clear explanation.

"Look…your leaving hurt a lot. You know how much he hates change. You….the two of you fit together, Pepper, better than any other friends or working colleagues I've ever seen. Still..." The bodyguard looks apologetic, "you didn't know how much kerfuffle you absence would cause. And you didn't cause the worst of this mess." Happy sighs in frustration. "He was already obsessed, Potts. He worked for days on end and never ate or even slept. That's not your fault. Still, if he hadn't insisted on flying out personally to identify what they thought at the time was your body…" Happy grimaces, "I don't think the heart attack would have happened, Pepper. He simply had nothing left."

She shudders. "God, I thought he was exaggerating." Then she opens her eyes again and looks at Happy with a tightened jawline. The woman she becomes when she starts giving orders is someone she hadn't thought even existed anymore. "Look, I want you and Larry to leave. Take a break until I call you. I'm perfectly capable of babysitting for a couple of hours, and he needs the space. I'll let him come to me." She smiles, a little, down into her glass. "Hell, if he'll stop pushing my buttons for ten whole seconds I bet we can even have something resembling an adult conversation."

Happy nods a little, looking incredibly relieved. She doesn't process that he's actually acknowledging her superior authority when he agrees to the idea. "Probably best to get out of Dodge then. I've noticed if you stop harassing him about stuff, he actually manages pretty well." The chauffer heads for the door the, barking one last set of orders. "Jarvis...please act as back up for Pepper if she needs it and let us know if he leaves the property...though you don't have to try and stop him. Frankly I don't care if he wants to spend another afternoon making god-damn sand castles as long as we know where he is. Just make sure he takes in enough water – he's off-weight and sunburned bad enough as it is."

And that's all there is to it. The house empties out. Once they are gone the whole place is silent, apart from the low hum of a monitor on the desk across the room. "Jarvis," she whispers into the air.

"Yes, did you need something, Ms Potts?"

"Where's the phone? I need to call home."

"In the kitchen next to the fridge. Mr Stark is fine, by the way. He is currently showering."

"Thanks, Jarvis." Pepper hauls herself out of the chair by sheer force of will. The armchair's comfortable, but soft and deep and she doesn't have as much flexibility as she one did.

She wanders into the kitchen and finds the phone. As she dials and waits for Mick to pick up, she finds the bread and pops two slices into the toaster. She's starving, and experience tells her that her brother usually takes ages to actually answer the phone.

"Bob's morgue, you stab 'em we slab 'em." The guy on the other end's far too awake.

"Hey, Mick. It's me." Lord, she hates when he does that.

"Ginny?" There's a pause and a relieved string of swearing, "Where in the heck are you, Virginia? It's almost ten!"

"Is it?" No wonder she's starving. "I, um…I ran into someone I know. He needed...well, needs some help, I suppose. I'm here at his house for the moment."

There's a long pause at the other end. "Oh god, did you run into the bastard?" He uses his preferred nickname for the guy who's knocked her up, since she refuses to provide an actual title.

"No. But Tony Stark just charged back into my life. I'm going to be here awhile"

There's a long pause, before Mick lets out a whistle. "Mr 'Hot and Steamy?' Be still my heart."

She cringes at the way he sounds like a bad impression of someone doing a bad impression of a thirteen year old fangirl with too much caffeine. "My god, Michael, could you sound anymore gay? But seriously, we both know you're not his biggest fan."

"Of course I'm not. Because he's a bastard. You've been here five months and you still won't talk about him. This doesn't strike me as a man I should particularly like. Especially since he knocked you up."

"For the last time he is not the father, Michael, and there was never any chance that he could be."

There's silence on the other end. She can feels his skepticism. She draws a breath in irritation. Why does he refuse to believe her anyway? "It's just...hard, Mick. And complicated. And getting more so by the moment. So curb your tongue and give me a goddamn five minute break."

Pepper digs the butter and strawberry jam out of the fridge, then also pulls out the bottle of orange juice. There are eggs inside, but she's not sure she has the energy to make an omelette.

"He's the prick who obviously didn't return your affections, Pepper. How on earth do you expect me to feel about the guy who broke your heart? My only real question when I meet him is can I kill him with my bare hands or should I use a sharpened baseball bat?"

This was so typical. This was so Mick. It was almost kind of sweet, though it was also undeniably annoying. "First of all, Tony's got a robotic suit at home that could make mincemeat out of you. Second of all, if I wanted to hurt him I know how to kill him with my bare hands."

She tries to hold it together. "He thought I was dead Mick. And I just found out he had a heart attack after IDing what he thought at the time was my body..."

There's a long pause on the other end. "And one more thing, when I left he kind of didn't know I was pregnant. I never shared that information"

"Well, shit," her brother says after a moment's contemplation. There's a exhalation of breath and a low, disbelieving whistle. "Does this mean I actually have to be civil to the guy? Because that's going to take some time to wrap my head around."

"Um...only if you meet." She prays to God that never happens. There's a long silence on the other end, and then she can hear Michael moving. He sounds like he's packing things up, and she feels her stomach start to sink.

"Oh, you can bet your sweet little rear we're meeting, Virginia. I'm coming over there right now. Address, please. I can't bring over the coffeecake I so thoughtfully made if I don't know where you are."

"Um, no?" she says with no little amount of panic. "I'm the oldest, this is my life, and did I mention I know how to kill people with my bare hands?"

"The hot bastard is in town, Sis. There's no way in hell I'm not coming over there to meet him. Not if he's not a bastard after all."

"Will you stop calling him hot? It's creeping me out." Pepper holds the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she used both hands to make her toast. "Besides, this is no big deal. We both agree that I don't work for him anymore. This is just a temporary situation…"

"I made the good coffee cake, 'Pepper.' The one with the apples and caramel swirls on the top. Now you can either tell me where you are, or I can call up Stanley in tech support and have him trace the call from my cell phone. He thinks pregnant women are hot, Sis. Do you really want to mess with me here?"

"Michael...please." She pleads in exasperation, "One unreasonable man is all I can deal with in one day. And you didn't wake up soon enough to make it to the top of my list."

"So I'm right then...you are glad he's here. So what's he wearing? Something that shows off his chest?"

Pepper laughs, resigned. "I'm hanging up now."

"Cool. I should be over in about an hour. You can make up the coffee."

"Death. Bare hands." Brothers were a little like puppies. They messed all over your shoes and yet you got attached to their big puppy eyes. "If I catch you drooling over him in public, Mick, I'm going to put up those pictures from your sixteen birthday up on youtube. And yes, I mean the one with you in that damn dress."

Pepper hangs up then, hoping rather desperately her half-crazy brother's not going to show up on Tony's doorstep. Apparently having your pregnant and very much alone sister show up at your house for the first time in years does strange things to a man. He's been trying to hook her up with everyone he knows while simultaneously protecting her from every man who as much as looks at her twice. It's both endearing and creepy.

He and Tony are either going to kill each other or they are going to bond. The second in particular is frightening. She does her best not to dwell on it. 'Well...' If she left now she could probably get home before Mick left the house, and that would keep him from driving over here because he'd be too distracted by fussing over her to worry about Tony for long. And how long could Tony possibly be planning to stay?

"I've got to get out of here," she mutters to herself as she tries to remember what happened to her keys.

"Good luck with that," comes a sardonic voice from behind her. "After all, according to Jarvis, you just ran off Happy and Larry and they were your only ride home. I've apparently been 'grounded.'"

Pepper's head flies up in surprise and she braces herself against the counter as she wobbles a little. Damnit, after all those years of walking around in heels all it's taken is a severe case of pregnancy to throw off her whole center of gravity. At least she can comfort herself with the belief that she wouldn't have wobbled if she'd heard him come into the room in the first place.

When she sees him staring at the hand she caught her balance with she pulls it away from the counter and tucks it behind her. "What are you looking at?" The words come out in a whisper. She's blushing even if she doesn't want to.

His voice is soft. "Your knuckles are swollen, and I've never seen you act even slightly off balance. I assume it's all because of the pregnancy."

His tone makes her heart hurt. This is the Tony she tried to keep alive in her memory. This kind of puzzled, kind of shy, kind of awkward man in front of her who can't tear his eyes away. His eyes are on her now, truly on her for the first time since the 23rd of December. She can see his detailed observations running behind his eyes as he pieces together everything about her that's become the new reality. She tries to distract him, tries to remind him that she's nothing special. "I'm swollen everywhere, Tony. Kinda comes with the package."

He smiles at that statement, as if it's the dumbest things she's ever said, but nods. "Yeah, I can't help but, well…notice that."

He's not looked his fill though, and she is beginning to remember other things. The most important of the list being that the most powerful tool in Tony's arsenal of charisma is not his good looks, it's his almost unwavering ability to pay attention when he chooses to do so. He's doing that now...assessing her like she's a human schematic. It's like he thinks that he can summarize the months apart via the new curve of her waist and heaviness of her now swollen breasts….

Come to think of it maybe telling the man everything about her was swollen hadn't been the best idea she's ever had. She's thought until this moment that both of them were too tired or broken or something for hormones, but the way her nipples have just tightened under the fabric of her shirt rather negates that idea.

"When are you due?" His voice is both smoke and gravel as he steps a little closer. His hand comes out like he wants to touch her belly, but he gives her space, staring at the pronounced bump instead.

This is uncomfortably close to a discussion she doesn't want to have. Not because she doesn't think he deserves the information, but because she can't bear to be torn up in that way. Or to tear him up. He's so very good at math.

He wants to know who the father is, but she won't…no, she can't, bring herself to tell him.

"Middle of August," she replies, skirting as close to the truth as she's willing. "So I have almost two full months of swelling to look forward to still."

She can see as the ticker behind his eyes starts counting back the days. Comparing it to his calendar and hers, forming various suppositions. "You're big for seven months, Potts. Sure that your doctor got the dates right?"

She rolls her eyes "I'm going to one of the best doctors in Savannah, Tony. I think he knows what he's doing." Not to mention that there'd hardly been a multitude of dates to chose from.

He raises his hands, as if trying to show he was unarmed. "Not trying to insult...just don't have much experience with the subject. You look phenomenal. Kind of glowy I guess."

She doesn't know it, but he's not cataloguing conception. He's tracking their morning greeting ritual in his memory, and trying to find that particular look in her eyes. He's never told her but he's known pretty much from the second month he hired her how she looks after a night of good sex.

Her body changes when she's been with someone, and her back gets a little straighter. It's the sexiest thing he's ever seen. Though he's never been dumb enough to comment on it.

There is no look like that in his memory though, that fits the dates and times she's trying too hard not to give him.

Pepper accepts the apology, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry. No woman wants to hear she's bigger than she ought to be." She carefully steps away from the counter, hoping he'll break his careful survey of her if she moves. "I'm fine. I'm good. I weigh exactly what I should, so there's no reason to be worried."

He nods. "Pregnancy seems to suit your coloring, you know. Your freckles are darker..." He seems to realize he's babbling, so he shuts up and reaches to gently tug on her hair. "This has changed too. It looks a full two shades redder."

"Hormones," she murmurs. "Fantastic hair, fantastic skin. The tense shoulders and swollen ankles are just to even things out, I suspect, otherwise women might always want to be pregnant."

He smirks at the comment. Gives into temptation finally. His palm settles on her belly with a touch so light she can scarcely feel it. "I take it you consider that a bad thing…being pregnant all the time then. You don't want a big family?"

'It's kinda rough on the body,' she thinks, but doesn't say it. She's too scared by the way he sounds, as if he thinks it might be a fine idea indeed. Very gently she pulls herself back from his touch.

"Tony..." She doesn't even know what she's trying to express. He's calm now, and she knows she doesn't want to upset that balance. But they're out of their natural habitat, they're without the barriers that have always been between them, and yet there's more walls between them than ever before. And she sees no way to resolve things between them.

She knows he doesn't trust her, even if he wants to. The look in his eyes may be soft and genuine, but it's not even remotely half the story. They've had such an extreme shift in the mechanics of their relationship that she's not sure they'll ever truly reconcile, much less recover.

"I wasn't supposed to get pregnant, Tony. Oh god, it wasn't supposed to be like this." And she's blinking back tears she hasn't shed since making the decision to drive across the country. And those couldn't last long because she'd needed a clear head to make her plans. "I never meant…but I want…" She wants things that aren't possible anymore.

She feels herself finally start to cry.

She doesn't know what it is she expects him to do in response, but before she can worry about it, it's too late. He's across the room and hugging the shit out of her, effectively comforting at the same moment he lifts control from her hands. She's wondered for years what this would feel like – to really hug him. Which is pretty sad really, since it's such a simple gesture, really, to be so starved for what it's her own fault she's never had...

It wasn't until after she left that she realized how little in their lives the two of them had ever touched. She knows this is odd, because in some ways Tony Stark is the most physical man she's ever met, every part of him – from the hands he covered in grease to the mind he saturated in science – was in a relentless, never ending search for contact.

Despite all this, she can count the number of times he's touched her on one hand. He's always respected her need for distance and she didn't realize how much she hated that until she was gone and there was nothing in her memory to feed her soul on but the changes in his eyes and the smell of him heavy with sweat. She presses as close as she can and turns her head so that her soft sobs are muffled against his shoulder. Her forehead is pressing tightly against his neck and she can feel his shirt growing wet under her face...and yet she still cries.

"Shh now...easy." His words are a murmur, he's letting out a slow steady drone that vibrates through both theirs chests. She knows she's scaring him; hell, she's scaring herself.

She cries because when she'd considered the circumstances under which she might become pregnant, a stupid one night stand had never entered the picture. She cries because she's so sick of being strong that the thought of not crying is nauseating. She cries because of all the hurt she's caused the man in her arms, because she never even once considered that he'd rather work through this with her rather than have her take the matter out of his hands entirely.

She cries because it's unfair of him to expect she know that when it's always been her job to make his life easier and not harder. She cries for wasted time, for shattered dreams, for lost companionship, for her lost best friend.

She cries because she did something stupid, and the results were far bigger than she expected.

He lets her bawl perhaps five minutes, and then he lifts her chin and looks her right in the face. His eyes are whimsical, a little tender. "You're an idiot sometimes, Virginia. Biggest one I've ever seen. I've never been able to figure you out. Probably never will for that matter."

She doesn't understand why he's smiling as he says it, like it's some kind of compliment. But it doesn't matter because right now she doesn't really understand anything, and the world hasn't imploded. He sees something in her face than he must have been looking for. "Come on now, Ms Potts. Time for good pregnant girls to go to sleep."

She's the farthest thing from a good girl as she could be, but she is pregnant so she lets him lead her through the house to what must be his bedroom. She opens her mouth once to make a weak objection when he prods her toward the bed, but he just looks at her and she thinks better of it. She's tired of the stress, tired of the pain. For once she just lets someone else take the lead and the blame.

Anthony Stark sits her down on a mattress, bends to remove her shoes and strip off her socks. "Are you cold right now, or can you do without a blanket?" She shakes her head.

It takes him precisely five seconds tuck her in – she is asleep literally before her head hits the pillow.

And it never crosses her mind, that ironically, after almost ten years she's finally in Anthony Stark's bed.