A/N: Guys, I apologize TEN TIMES OVER for the delay! Life's just gotten in the way so much! But, I didn't forget you, as I put off my homework to get this done! You're welcome! Hope it lives up to your expectations!

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~PJA

Chapter 9

He hoped they wouldn't find him here. There was no way they'd find him here. He'd picked a great hiding spot. No one knew where it was. In fact, no one knew what it was. One good thing about being the owner of a building with seemingly endless floors was that he could put a room on a floor somewhere and no one could ever know where it was.

That's why Tony was currently hiding in the secret room he'd dedicated to all his My Little Pony memorabilia. Was he embarrassed by this? Yes, yes he was. No one could ever know he had this – and so far, it seemed it was working pretty well for him. So why not hide himself in a room that wasn't supposed to exist? It made perfect sense. Even Clint and Natasha would never find him here.

As Tony snuggled down deeper into the mountain of stuffed ponies, he heard footsteps above him. His heart froze. Clint and Natasha were getting dangerously close. Putting the secret pony room on the floor directly below the main living area probably wasn't the smartest idea. Tony just hoped they wouldn't crack the code on the elevator…

Ding. Uh-oh. Tony's heart stopped. How did they get onto this floor? He wondered in disbelief. Only I should be able to get onto this floor! Not even Jarvis knows the code! Tony put all precautions into protecting this place. So how did Natasha get in…?

Tony didn't have time to worry about that right now. He was in almost-full-out internal panic mode. He needed to hide better, but without making any noise. So slowly, ever so slowly, with motions that were so un-Tony-Starklike, he immersed himself into the mountain of ponies until he was completely covered. Hard to believe he owned that many stuffed My Little Ponies. He eyed the door through the miniscule peephole he'd somehow made himself. He had to make sure they did not find him.

Tony's entire being froze when the door literally crashed open. He was surprised it was still on the hinges. It took all of Tony's willpower not to tremble as he watched the obviously seething mad faces of Clint and Natasha.

"He's got to be in here. This place was hidden – high chance he's hiding on room in a floor there's not even a button on the elevator to," Natasha said, making her way farther into the room.

"So Stark does have a secret My Little Pony collection – and a ginormous one at that! I called it!" Clint said, with utter fascination.

"Clint! Focus! We're looking for Tony in a fit of rage! Look under all the ponies!" Natasha seethed.

If Tony weren't in a life-threatening situation, he would have laughed at hearing Natasha say that last sentence.

His blood ran cold as the two assassins started frantically tossing stuffed ponies behind them as they searched for him. Tony knew he was dead. He began to say his last prayers – the Iron Man suit would be left to Bruce to tinker with, Steve would get the training room, Pepper would get the company and all his money, and Clint and Natasha would get the Dumpster out back.

But suddenly, Tony saw the light of death when the pony covering his head was tossed aside. He glanced up to see Clint's face hovering above him.

"How's it going, Legolas?" Tony greeted, half-heartedly. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"NATASHA!" Clint screamed, even though Natasha was halfway across the room. "I've found the son of a gun!"

Within seconds, Natasha had also entered Tony's field of view. She did not look happy in the least. She looked about ready to clobber him.

"Hi, Natasha. Didn't expect to see you here, either."

Before Tony could make another smart-ass comment, Clint grasped him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up into the air out of the ponies, keeping him suspended a few inches off the ground. Tony was surprised. He had to give the man credit – he was stronger than he looked, and people didn't give him half the credit he deserved. Sure, he didn't have Thor-strength, but Tony could see the muscles rippling underneath the man's arms. Definitely stronger than him without the suit on.

"Please don't kill me," Tony said, bringing his arms up to protect his face. "Actually, you know what, please do kill me. Save me the terror of whatever torture I know you guys have planned for me."

Clint and Natasha glanced at each other, sharing a look. Natasha looked back at Tony. "No, we're not going to kill you, Stark." She smiled in a way that made Tony extremely scared. "We have something special planned for you."

Tony really didn't like the way Clint grinned at that.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" Tony begged and pleaded for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"You'll see. You'll just love it," Clint said in that sarcastic way that made Tony sick. Tony attempted to thrash around. He hated this. He needed to know where they were going! He couldn't see anything from this burlap sack, and it drove him mad that he couldn't move. Clint had slung him over his shoulder with seemingly no effort, and every time Tony flinched, Natasha smacked him from behind. It was painful, and eventually Tony gave up. He didn't even know if they were still in the building.

Suddenly, Tony thumped to the hard ground. He assumed Clint had thrown him. He was then lifted again, and placed onto what felt like a chair. He heard more than felt the bag being untied, and it was slipped off over his head. Tony found himself in a dim, sterile room – it reminded him of an interrogation room in all the crime movies, with a one-way glass screen. The walls were gray tile, and there was nothing in the room but the chair and a huge flat-screen TV.

A snap brought him back to reality, and he saw that his wrists and legs were now bound to the chair. He was starting to panic. He struggled against the binds, but to no avail. He looked desperately at Clint and Natasha, now standing in front of him.

"What are you going to do to me?" Tony asked. "Is this an electric chair? 'Cause that's not gonna hurt me as much as you want; I've gotten into a messy brawl with Thor before."

"Don't worry, Tony, we wouldn't dream of such a thing," Natasha promised all-too-sarcastically. "But we've just got one more thing to do."

Clint came forward, holding something small and clear in his hand that Tony couldn't identify. Clint held open Tony's eyelids with two fingers, and began to apply them to Tony's face.

"What the heck is that?" Tony asked in fear.

"Oh, just a little something," Clint said, vaguely. "We wouldn't want you to fall asleep, now would we?"

Tony was about to ask what he meant by that when he realized something. He couldn't blink. He tried to close his eyes, but he couldn't. They were stuck open with the clear stuff – probably some sort of adhesive – Clint had put on his face.

"What the hell, guys?!" Tony asked in horror. "I can't close my eyes! They're gonna start to hurt soon! Haven't you ever had a staring contest?"

"Oh, Tony, don't worry about that," Natasha said. This was really starting to scare Tony. What was going on? What were they going to do to him? Why did they need to clamp his eyes open? Natasha made her way over to the TV and turned on the power. "Just sit back and enjoy the program."

What? Program? They were seriously having him watch TV? Was that even considered torture? Tony pondered it a little as Clint and Natasha silently filed out of the room, the door locking shut as they left. In the half a second of eerie quiet, Tony drew his attention to the massive screen in front of his eyes, which was now starting to gain shape and color.

"Hola! Soy Dora!"

Oh God.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"