AN: Oh gosh. I think I've done a very, very bad thing. I've made addicts out of some of you. I literally started getting reviews nine minutes after I posted that last chapter. You guys are the best. I didn't think it was all that great….buttttttt…apparently you thought different. You rock my socks.

This is a tad shorter than usual, but you will probably enjoy it just the same, I hope.

-O-O-O-

Safe – Miranda Lambert

-O-O-O-

There were two things he missed most: the smell of Chanel perfume and the feel of her worn UCLA t-shirt under his fingers. It wasn't cheeseburgers—even though those were good, and he'd eaten his share since he'd been home. It was her.

He knew she hated to be woken up, but he was getting impatient. It was nearly nine, and he'd been awake fifteen minutes already. A short period of time for some, but he was getting antsy.

Rarely did he get the chance to watch her while she slept. She was always up before him, leaving him grumbling and searching for her warmth. But when he did, it was absolutely beautiful. She slept on her side, all curled up with her hands under her chin and that glorious red hair spread all over his Egyptian cotton sheets, stamping them with the scent of water lilies and ocean breeze. Whatever the hell that was, he didn't know, but it smelled good.

He watched her shift, and took the opportunity to pull himself up over her.

She groaned. "Not now…" she said, half asleep.

He pressed a kiss to her throat. "You can try and resist, Potts, but we both know who will win this fight."

She chuckled softly, turning her face away, eyes still closed.

"Let the record show that over twelve years of courtship, you have never once won the battle against not having morning sex. Though I could stand to wait, if you want to go brush your teeth first."

"That's rude," she said, and pressed her palms to his shoulders, trying to push him off.

"Can we get some donuts?" he asked.

She laughed. "I think you have more cravings than I do." Instantly, she wanted to swallow her words, but her throat tightened.

He looked down at her, confused.

Her finger tips ran along his shoulder. "Um…yeah. Let me get a shower, and I'll go get some." She managed to crawl out of bed and close the bathroom door before he asked questions.

-O-O-O-

If he wasn't already a self-proclaimed genius, he would have 'proclaimed' it now. This was his best work. Ever. Or it would be, if Dummy got his stupid claw out his way.

"Just stop. You're of absolutely no help," he said, working around the bot to get his soldering iron where he wanted it.

The robot let out a dejected whir.

He finished and laid down the tool, admiring his work on the first boot for his armor. "Yup. That'll do," he muttered to himself, satisfied.

This was his best work yet, without a doubt. Completely different than anything before, but fitting in so many ways.

He couldn't even tell Pepper yet. She'd flip her lid if she knew he was even thinking about putting himself inside a giant suit of armor and flying halfway around the world to take on terror firsthand. For now, he'd just tell her these were new technologies to fill the gap left by weapons manufacturing. After all, in its simplest form, it was the truth.

Obie was pissed, though trying to play it off casually. He'd left for New York to meet with the board, and was attempting to handle the stock drop. But Tony couldn't trust him with this. Obie had always had that tendency to take ideas into his own hands. He always had that sly way of taking the wheel when Tony wasn't looking. He couldn't let him do that with this. He needed to know this was secure.

He needed to do this. To avenge the soldiers that had died the day he was captured. For the many that had fallen at the hands of his own weapons. He needed to do this for the world. He wasn't going to be known as an iron monger the rest of his life. If Obadiah was comfortable living that legacy, that was his own business. Tony was living for more now.

Pepper let herself into the workshop, carrying a plastic bag of Chinese take-out.

"Lunchtime," she chirped.

He hadn't even realized how hungry he was. He turned from his work and moved for the couch at the opposite end of the shop. He started unloading the cartons and she perched in one of the chairs, typing on her Blackberry.

"You aren't eating?" he asked, snapping the chopsticks apart.

"No, you go ahead," she answered without looking up.

He took a huge bite of Chow Mein and threw her a look. She had been acting weird for days. Now she was refusing take-out. Something was definitely wrong.

"Something you want to share with the class, Pepper?" he mumbled through his food.

She looked up. "What?"

He sat on the couch, and finished chewing before speaking again. "You've been sleeping past your alarm. You've been quiet as a bird. You're snubbing Chinese food. And what was all this business about cravings the other day? I think you have something to say, you just don't want to tell me."

She stared at the floor for a long time before looking up at him. There was that look again. That faraway look that was so pained and broken.

"What's wrong, Pepper?" he insisted quietly.

She blinked, only once, and silent tears streamed in rivers down her cheeks. She was crying again. Why did he always have to make her cry?

"I really don't want to tell you right now," she whispered, even though she knew she would have to. Truthfully, she'd been searching for the right moment for days. There had been plenty, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell him.

She wiped her own tears, and stood primly, chin up.

She headed for the counter near the refrigerator, searching for a tissue, only coming up with the heavy duty towels he used to clean up oil spills. The fibers scratched roughly against her cheeks.

She was trying to put on a front. Trying to be that strong person she'd been before he left, but she couldn't face the fact that she needed to deal with this. She had to tell him sometime.

"Pepper, what are you not telling me?" He pressed, his voice dark. She didn't realize he'd stood from the couch and was now behind her.

"I was pregnant, Tony," she blurted. "I was pregnant, and I lost the baby."

"What?" he said, his voice a whisper.

She couldn't bear to look at him. "I'm so sorry…"

"Pepper…"

She took in a breath, feeling the tsunami in her stomach again. "It was a miracle I got pregnant in the first place. I wasn't eating right, and I was so stressed. Tony…I kill…"

"No," he said sternly, sounding almost angry. "Don't say that."

Hesitantly, she turned. She was expecting to see him with fists clenched, eyes black like they were when anger overtook him. But he just looked hurt. Like someone had ripped his heart out.

Literally, they had.

She couldn't bear the meet his eyes. She searched the floor, as if she could find words of explanation written there somewhere.

His hands came to her cheeks, tilting her face up. "It was not your fault, Pepper."

"Yes it was. I…"

"No. It was never your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

She hiccupped, trying to hold herself together.

"You're going to be a great mother, Pepper. Whenever that time is, you're going to spoil that kid rotten and she's probably going to be biggest brat alive, but who cares? That just means you love her."

Pepper let out a burst of laughter through her tears.

"And I will love her. It wasn't the right time, Pepper. But next time it will be."

She glanced back at the floor. "I don't think…I don't think I'll be ready to try again for a long time."

He nodded, understanding. "That's fine. When you want to, we will make the most beautiful children this world has ever seen. And that's me being modest." He tried to lighten the mood, and smirked.

She laughed and wiped her face again. "I'm sorry I've been such a mess lately. You need me to be here for you."

"It's understandable. We're both a little screwed up right now." His arms hooked around her waist, drawing her in.

Her palms smoothed his t-shirt against his shoulders, taking in the familiar, bitter scent of motor oil that he always carried.

She sniffled, drawing herself together. "When did you get so sentimental, Stark?" she teased.

"What do you mean? I've always been this big of a sap."

She rolled her eyes. "Go eat your lunch, before it gets cold."

"Yes, mother." He gave a dramatic sigh and turned back to his food. "Sesame Chicken?" He asked, holding out a box to her.

She smiled. "Don't mind if I do." She moved to sit next to him on the couch.

"There's only one pair of chop-sticks, but I don't mind if you do either." He threw an arm around her shoulders and nudged her closer.

-O-O-O-

She sighed and leaned back into the couch, a mug of tea balanced in her hands. Her sleeping schedule wasn't exactly back on track yet, just further proof that thing were not ok yet. She found herself lying awake during the night, unsure of what had woken her up. She hadn't been to her apartment in the nine days that Tony had been home. The place was almost taboo now; if she went there, Tony might turn up missing again. She knew the fear was irrational, but she couldn't bear to leave him alone anymore. Not after three months of hell.

Whatever had happened over there—she didn't know all the details yet, nor did she really want to—he was completely different. She could tell there was something that hadn't been there before. A drive to do something bigger, better, and not just the need to produce the latest technology before anyone else had the chance. Whatever he'd been doing in the workshop was huge. She didn't ask questions. She just hoped he wasn't planning something completely insane.

No. What a silly thought. This was Tony Stark. Of course he was.

These was no doubt this was going to cause even more trouble, be unreasonably dangerous, and probably lose their good standing with the military—though, that had already been done away with when he closed weapons manufacturing. But she wouldn't argue. He needed to do this—whatever it was.

A howl of pain jolted her out of her thoughts, and she bolted onto her feet.

She was halfway up the stairs when it came again.

"STOP! PLEASE! STOP! PEPPER!"

When she reached the bedroom, he was twisted in the blankets, kicking his legs to try and get free. His hands clawed at his chest, and she heard his fingernails screech over the slick metal of the reactor.

"Tony!" She crossed the room in three strides and grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his chest. "Tony! Wake up!"

He let out another yell, and trashed for a moment before jolting awake. Sweat was slick against his face, his eyes wild. "Pepper," he breathed.

"Hey, I'm right here," she said softly, bringing up a hand to his hair. "I'm right here…"

His eyes flickered to her, and before she could protest he had pulled her flush against him.

"Tony!" she squeaked in surprise.

His breath was heavy, his diaphragm pulsing against her side. "They killed you…They…"

"Shhh…I'm fine. You were having a nightmare. Let me get you some water." She tried to pull away, but he held fast to her.

"No." he croaked. "Don't leave me."

His voice was so desperate and pleading, so small that she didn't resist.

She shifted so she was lying on her side. He did the same, pulling her against him again.

Her hands went through his damp hair, pushing it off his face.

"They were putting it in," he breathed. "It felt so real…like it was happening all over again."

"Shh…" she said, leaned in to kiss his cheek. "It was just a dream. You're safe."

His arm tightened around her at the word. Safety. Something he'd never had.

They rested in silence until his breathing evened out.

She was unprepared for the tightness in her voice when she spoke. "You can't leave me ever again. You know that, right?"

He chuckled dully, almost seriously, but there was a hint of a smile. "Same goes for you, Potts."

She cuddled into his chest, ducking her head under his chin. The light from the arc reactor was bright and luminous. Her fingers lightly pressed against it, finally. She wasn't sure if it hurt him still and she'd been scared at first. But it was a part of him, and she'd take it—all or nothing.

The metal was cool against her lips, sending a shiver through her. Her fingers traced the outside rim. She heard and felt his breath hitch in his chest.

"Whoa." He exhaled, and she laughed, burying her head against his shoulder. "Ok. New rule. You do that every day."

She smiled. "Won't it lose its clout after a while?"

"Impossible."

She relaxed against him and let out a soft hum. "Try and get some sleep," she urged. "I'll be right here."

"Now you're quoting E.T.?" he quizzed.

"Go to sleep, Tony."