They spent dinner in their room, eating takeout on the bed and watching TV. They sat side-by-side, with Natasha's legs draped over Tony's lap. About halfway through the show they switched cartons (leftovers are never issue at their place) to finish off the rest of the food.
"You have to admit, this is better than some fancy restaurant." Tony said after they were done, his hands trailing up and down her legs.
Natasha sat up and pulled onto his shirt to bring him closer. "Well, staying at home does have its advantages." She said before kissing him. His hands moved up to her thighs and she moaned softly at the contact. It still amazed her that he could handle his tools and machines so roughly and yet when he touched her it was as if he was handling something precious. Something important. His lips lingered on hers before tracing his way down her neck, nibbling gently at her skin. She shifted so that she was sitting in his lap. Her legs came up on either side of his waist while he continued biting and kissing her neck. Tony couldn't stop running his hands over her legs. God, her skin was soft. He bit his lip when he felt her hands moving under his shirt. Okay, enough of this. He pushed on her body gently until she was pressed into the bed. He leaned down just as she was moving up and their lips crashed together. Her hands were at her sides and he thread his fingers through them. He could feel her smiling beneath his lips.
Their kiss was broken when the security system went off, the alarm blaring in the small room. Tony rolled off of Natasha, swearing under his breath. "Jarvis, you're killing me here." He got up from the bed and opened the bedroom door.
"That wasn't me, sir. The alarm was activated by the front door opening."
Tony paused in the doorway. "Did someone try to break in?"
"It appears that way. The system activated when the lock was turned." The alarm cut off suddenly.
Natasha joined Tony by the door. Tony put a hand on her arm. "Maybe you should stay here. I'll go downstairs."
Natasha raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.
They stared at each other for a few second before Tony sighed. "Fine, fine. Let's get this over with so we can get on to bigger and better things in our room."
The house was quiet, all the lights off in the lower part of the building. Their smiles faded when they saw the front door wide open. "Jarvis, do a sweep for anything giving off body heat.' Tony said quietly.
"I'm not getting any heat signatures other than yourself and Ms. Romanoff, sir."
Jarvis's words didn't ease the tension that had crept into Tony's body.
"Baby, stay behind me."
He could almost feel the resentment coming off of her. "Please." He added when Natasha tried to argue. She continued to glare at him, but she didn't try to move either.
He walked into the living room, Natasha trailing behind him. Everything looked the same as it had a few hours ago. Empty glasses in the sink, a half empty pizza box sitting on the counter (even though Natasha had told him repeatedly to put it in the fridge). The night outside was calm through the windows, no movement save the wind that was sweeping through the trees.
"False alarm." Tony said. Probably have to reboot the system later. He turned to look at Natasha, and froze.
She was standing in the middle of the room. Her face, light and happy only a minute ago, was twisted into an expression of pain. Her hands were clenched around her stomach, her body hunched over.
And she was pale. God, was she pale.
"Baby, what's wrong?" He went to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She didn't even look up.
"Natasha, talk to me." Something wasn't right. Something was wrong and it was scaring the hell out of him.
She just shook her head. "Can't…breathe." Her legs gave out but Tony caught her before she hit the floor.
He could feel her body tensing around his arms. She was biting down on her lips hard enough to draw blood, and he knew why. She was trying not to scream.
He set her down on the sofa as gently as he could and put a hand against her forehead. She was burning up. "Natasha, you need to talk to me." He was starting to panic. "You need to tell me what to do." He had an endless supply of machines and tools and iron man suits and none of them meant anything right now.
Natasha's hands were clenched into fists. When she spoke, her tenth were clenched. "It's the Red Room."
Tony knelt beside her. His shaking hands tried to smooth the hair back from her sweaty face. "What do you mean, baby?"
Fuck, even his voice was shaking,
"It was some...something they used to use." Her breath hitched as another jolt of pain swept through her. "Tony, they must've put it in…our food."
Tony's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. 'It's because of Ivan." He whispered. He couldn't manage the strength to make the words any louder. "They think you killed him."
Natasha turned to look at him. "This isn't your f—"she broke off with a cry, her hands clutching at her stomach.
"Natasha?" His hands were on either side of her face and he could feel the sweat at her temples. But then he saw her lips and they were blue, as if she were cold. Tony swore under his breath. "Tell me, please baby, tell me what to do." He was using every bit of strength he had to keep it together. But he was starting to slip.
Natasha tried to say something but the words wouldn't come out. Her vision was starting to go blurry. She fought to stay focused on one thing, just one. Tony's face swan before her eyes, a mixture of fear and anxiety and panic etched into his features. Her hand came up slowly, resting on his cheek. "…s'okay…" she said groggily. But then the darkness drew her in and had no more strength left to fight it. Her eyes drifted closed, her hand slipping off his cheek.
Tony's vision went red as his hand jumped to her throat. Thank fuck, she was still breathing. But he didn't know how long she was going to stay that way. They had to move.
"Jarvis, start the car." He yelled. He gathered Natasha in his arms and moved as fast as he could out the door.
He strapped her into seat before he went behind the wheel. Somehow they made it to Shield, though Tony had no clue how—his eyes had darted over to her about every two seconds, checking to make sure she was still breathing. That she was still alive.
After a stunningly awful parking job he got Natasha out of the car and carried her to the medical wing. She still hadn't stirred, but her face was even whiter than it was before, her red hair standing out against the milk white skin. He couldn't look at her without his stomach clenching.
Not like this. It couldn't happen like this.
He wouldn't let the nurses touch her, just yelled at them until they led him over to an empty bed. It wasn't until Natasha started convulsing that they pulled him out the room, security having to physically hold him down to get the nurses in to help her. He knew, somewhere in the back of his head, that it was the right thing to do, that she needed them. But he needed her, and right now that was the only thing he could focus on.
Fury came into the room then, and told security to let him go. In any other circumstances Tony would have made some kind of wise crack, some smart remark at the director. But all he did was nod before turning to watch Natasha through the window in her room. The nurses were running tests trying to figure out what had been put in her food.
"You need to let them do their job, Stark." Fury said. He moved to stand next to Tony at the window.
Tony tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He hated seeing her like this. She looked so small in the hospital bed, with the machines looming over her. He bowed his head, gripping the window frame.
"I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help her, she just—" His hands were shaking again.
"I'm not going to ask why Romanoff was with you at your house this evening. Not until she's in recovery." Tony wasn't looking at Fury but he could hear something in his voice that wasn't usually there. Sounded like sympathy. Understanding. "I'm going to contact the rest of the team. No one goes on any assignments until we know what did this."
Tony nodded, eyes on Natasha. After a few minutes Fury left, presumably to notify the others. Alone in the room, Tony leaned his head against the window, closed his eyes, and let himself cry, while he waited for news that Natasha would be okay.