Hope you all enjoy! This chapter is a little different from the others, but necessary for the plot.

Your support means the world to me! Thank you all so much. :)


Natasha looked up at Tony with an arched brow, but an otherwise emotionless face.

"I don't know what you are talking about Stark," she said calmly.

"Really?" he asked incredulously, not buying her ignorance act for a moment. "So what did you need to talk to Thor about last night?"

She tensed slightly, though she tried to hide. "That's classified."

"Bullshit."

"It's nothing concerning you, Stark," she countered quickly, not wanting to get into a back and forth with him. That's how he would somehow get the truth out of her. "Believe it or not, SHIELD cuts you out of more than you would like to believe."

"Is that the case?" Tony inquired, completely unconvinced. Though his ego did seem a bit bruised, for which Natasha was happy.

She pushed by him and began to make her way towards Fury's office.

"So, where are you heading off to?" he asked, relentless in his search for the truth as he turned and walked beside her.

"Fury's office," she responded automatically, keeping her pace and her focus. Stark couldn't follow her forever, and soon enough someone would flatter him and catch his attention long enough for her to get away.

He was exhausting. Tony was a nice enough guy; she'd certainly seen him at his best with people. And perhaps even his initial interrogation of her had started out as genuine concern, only to be naturally warped by his ego into a challenge he needed to win.

Ridiculous. She didn't know how Pepper could cope with him for extended periods of time.

"For this confidential meeting, I presume?" he asked. Natasha could almost hear him rolling his eyes in his voice.

"Nothing gets by you," she mumbled out quickly, quickening her pace and managing to get a few good steps ahead of Stark.

"What are you going to tell him about getting sick this morning?"

Natasha should have ignored him. She should have kept walking and never turned back and looked at him. She felt her whole body tense as she stopped in her tracks.

He knew. He fucking knew and now he was going to rat her out. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she suddenly understood Tony figured her out, he'd read past her vague comments, her plan. He saw the intention behind her actions and was planning to crucify her for them by barring her from escaping.

For what gain? There was no benefit for Stark if Natasha stayed put, aside from being the subject of one of his snide remarks every now and again. Natasha did not understand calling her out like this.

She owed him two beatings now; one for Jane Foster and one for their current predicament.

She turned around, her lips attempting push out a witty comeback, something to throw him off and make him doubt his accusation. Even if she just mumbled out the story she'd planned about eating bad food, about how she'd needed Thor for as mission, that was all. There was nothing else going on besides the task at hand.

She wasn't pregnant, she wanted to proclaim, loudly. She wanted to laugh at him, roll her eyes and shrug it off as nothing but Tony's need for attention.

Instead she waited; she stood there and stared at him wide eyed and waited for the words to come out. But they never did; she remained still looking at him with parted lips, her eyes widening in panic as she couldn't talk herself out of it.

Tony nodded slowly. He'd won.

She slowly and tentatively walked back towards him. "Fine," she said calmly, trying to suppress the chaos of her mind and the swelling anger inside her at the cocky bastard who just had to win. She raised her brows in unspoken defeat and looked at him. "Let's say I did get sick. What does that prove?"

"It proves you shouldn't be going on a mission," he replied.

"It could be food poisoning," she shot back immediately, quickly becoming herself again. "Gone within twenty-four hours, give or take."

He was unimpressed with her answer.

"So, you two leaving my party together a little over a month ago, you looking for him last night and now getting sick this morning, those are all unrelated instances?"

She paused. "Yes."

"Great. Yeah, okay. Did I also hear you tell Clint a little something about giving Thor a ride to work this morning?"

She tensed, she could feel the beginnings of an eye twitch. "I'm surprised that even you don't have better things to do then interrogate me in the hall," she spat out.

Tony clearly didn't hear her; he was on a roll. "So, he's staying with you then? And that—that has nothing to do with this morning?"

She bit her lower lip; denial was the only saving grace that she had, that or challenging Stark further, which the competitive spirit in her wanted her to do. Besides, it would be the more logical approach, it was natural for Natasha to fight back.

If she just kept denying his accusations, or just stood there and took it, he would be proven true.

"I find the sudden interest in my constant whereabouts surprising," she stated automatically. "Any reason for that Stark?"

"I just observe," he said innocently enough, shrugging slightly as he looked at her. "And if I notice something useful, I store it away for later use."

Truthfully, the only reason he had even noticed her leaving with Thor the night of his gala was because he was mildly offended someone had left one of his parties early.

He'd never admit to it, but as grand as his ego was, it bruised like a peach.

He continued. "And your change of behavior lately is the one that is surprising. I never thought really thought you'd be inviting Thor over to your house, of all people."

"I wouldn't be fast to invite you over either," she said with a small, sardonic smile.

"I figured that," he admitted, not really bothered by her little jab. Natasha assumed he probably heard them a lot, what with his personality.

There was a pause between their back and forth. He seemed to lose his competitive edge slightly, his face became calmer and his voice lowered. "Natasha, listen," he began quietly. "No matter what an ass I'm being right now, if you do need anything, I'm here—"

"That's very kind of you, Stark," she said robotically, cutting him off as she felt her head start to ache. She was tired, she was done—she didn't need Stark's pity or concern. She was perfectly capable of handling this on her own. It bothered her that he wanted to help; it was noble, but Natasha had no time for it, for being an act of charity. She didn't need saving and she didn't his worry.

"Unfortunately, there is nothing happening with me that you need concern yourself with," she began, attempting to head towards Fury's office for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Besides, soon I'll be on assignment and out of the country. Your offering of hospitality isn't necessary."

This was exasperating, and Tony could only be challenging for so long before he begin to even grate his own nerves.

"Do you think they're not going to give you a physical or something before you leave, Natasha?" he asked, his tone rushed and matter of fact. "They're SHIELD. Like it or not, they're going to figure you out one way or another."

She pushed her tongue against the back of her teeth.

In her panic to conceal the child, Natasha had ignored the obvious fact that SHIELD would have given her a physical once she had gotten the assignment from Fury. She was built to kill, and any flaw inside the design would make her useless.

Once they found the baby, she would have never been permitted to go.

Natasha hated herself, this situation. The pregnancy was already beginning it's slow destruction of her duties at SHIELD, slowly plucking away her assets until she would be rendered completely useless. Her physical strengths would be gone in a matter of months, only to take months of time to gain back once the child was born. Even now, her ability to think clearly and hold the strings in any situation was weakened.

She hadn't even thought of how she would need to receive a physical examination. She was losing touch with who she was, who she was programmed to be.

She could feel herself, getting lost in chaos, falling stray from the path designed for her.

Natasha looked at Tony, trying her best to maintain her mask of indifference. "I am aware," she said, the sternness of her voice tainted with a wistfulness.

She couldn't admit Tony was right, she wouldn't. No one needed to know until it was too late. She needed time to think things through, to be logical. If she could just buy herself a few months, she would be fine. She would figure out what to do.

Natasha was good at getting out of a crunch, nothing would take that away from her.

She couldn't allow it.

"I don't see how that would matter. The stomach bug should be gone by then," she continued calmly, attempting to shrug it off.

He sighed.

She'd won for now.

"You keep telling yourself that," he said with a sigh. "But the offer still stands, if you need anything…let me know."

She turned and walked away from him, in the direction of Fury's office with no intention of going there. She needed to find solace, a way to lose herself, at least for awhile. She needed to think, she needed to plan.

Time was the one thing on Natasha's side. And she would use it to her advantage.

For now, she was still useful, she could still produce results. She would remain working until her pregnancy became evident.

Then she would have to think of something else to do, something else that would save her already faltering reputation.

It would just take time.


Tony hated losing.

And he hated losing more when he knew he was right.

And Natasha denying what was obvious to Tony drove him crazy. It was her pride, Tony knew. His pride had kept him from making intelligent choices and instead had led him to make stupid decisions. And Natasha's decision to hide her pregnancy definitely fell under stupid.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do with his conclusion; he didn't want to tell everyone else, it wasn't his place to do so.

But all be damned if Tony had a piece of information he couldn't share with at least one person. It wasn't that he meant to cause a big stir, most of the time. He just liked to keep people up to date with what was happening around them.

That and he did enjoy the sound of his own voice.

It had been a quiet day in the lab, what with Tony being wrapped up in his own thoughts and Bruce's natural inclination to not say anything to anyone…ever. Bruce had also busied himself with some menial task in order to further exclude himself from social conversation.

Even with Tony, Bruce liked to keep his words sparse. So Tony liked to keep things…interesting.

"So, Bruce," Tony said, leaning over a table slightly to speak with his friend. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

He could see how the word personal unnerved his friend slightly, who slumped his shoulders and turned around to greet him. "What could you need to know?" he said quietly, defeated already.

"You're what I would call a pretty observant guy," he offered him generously. "Wouldn't you consider yourself a pretty observant guy?"

"I….guess," Bruce said weakly. Tony then caught his friend trying to study him, to see if Tony had gotten a haircut or something that he had failed to notice.

Tony sighed. "Have you noticed anything unusual about Natasha?"

"Oh!" Bruce said, giving a small smile in relief. Then he shook his head, completely uninterested in discussing her. "I haven't, um, really noticed anything. We don't talk all that much, really—"

"Well, then let me fill you in," he said, with his usual dramatic flair. "You just have to promise that what I tell you never is repeated, understood?"

Bruce frowned somewhat. "Yeah, because I'm such an office gossip."

Tony smirked slightly at his remark, sighing as he looked at him. "I think that she's pregnant."

Bruce took a minute to digest the news before he instinctively laughed it off. "You're crazy, Tony. There is no way that is true—"

"I figured you'd react that way," he said, completely expectant of the reaction. "So I'm going to just put it out there, that I'm pretty sure Thor's the father."

Bruce completely stopped what he was doing and stared at Stark in utter disbelief. "You're crazy."

"I really wish I was lying," he said putting his hands in the air. "But it looks like Thor's staying with Natasha, she got sick this morning. And last night, she was running around looking for him for some confidential reasons," he listed, adding on quickly. "And she looked and sounded far from professional about the whole thing last night. It was a little off putting."

"Yeah, but Natasha and Thor?" Bruce challenged, clearly skeptical of the whole thing. "He's not…really her type."

"Well, she's not really his either," Tony argued with a shrug. "I mean, we've all met and endured Jane Foster."

They shared a mutual glower. "Good point," Bruce admitted with a nod, thinking how different Natasha was then the needy, self-deprecating Jane Foster.

"Very good point," he looked up at Tony. "Does Clint know?"

"I…would doubt it," Tony admitted as if it were obvious. "When I asked her about it, all she could do was deny it. So, I don't think she's all to open about it with anyone. Especially Barton."

"I could see why," Bruce agreed. He took a breath. "Damn. And you're sure? Like a hundred percent that she's pregnant?"

"Can any of us really believe anything fully?" he inquired, walking over to Bruce's work station. "But, I'm pretty confident. I really wouldn't be making such wild accusations unless I had a pretty solid case."

"You're not a complete idiot," Bruce agreed teasingly.

"Exactly," Tony said with a nod. "I have quite more than just a shred of evidence from the past twenty-four hours alone. Besides we saw them both leave my party together that one night—"

"Yeah," Bruce said automatically, stopping Tony from rehashing the fact that they'd left his party early for about the millionth time. "Maybe she is pregnant."

That was all Tony needed to hear. Besides, it was visibly obvious Bruce was getting bored. "And we're going to keep that little bit of information between us, right?" he asked.

Bruce nodded, not really listening. "Not a peep."