Chapter Thirty Six

Natasha managed a certain amount of detachment while watching Bruce place a cotton ball over the injection site before removing the syringe and pressing said cotton more firmly against her arm to stem any blood that seeped out. Setting the syringe aside, he taped the cotton in place and then released the tourniquet.

"Agent Barton will understand," he emphasized.

"I'm not so certain," she responded. "This isn't the type of news you want to hear the day after Christmas when you're an assassin who's used to living your life in the shadows."

"Having Clint's child can't be number one on your worst case scenario list."

"No, I'm pretty sure its up there near the top. You don't understand, Bruce." She wasn't certain how to finish or how to make him understand. "You know what it's like to have people hunt you. When it's just me, I can take care of myself. Having a kid to protect too?"

"But you aren't alone anymore. There are people who care about you and who will go to Hell and back to protect your child."

"Let's just get it over with. The sooner I know, the sooner I can start making a decision."

Finally facing the moment, that No-Turning-Back line drawn in the sand, she was more nervous than ever. Her palms were clammy, so she chafed them over her jeans and watched Bruce pad across the infirmary to run the necessary tests. Just thinking about how her life would change was enough to induce nausea.

So she attempted to divert her mind onto a safer topic. A methodical breath helped restore some semblance of order. For the moment, she didn't feel like a three-legged rabbit being hunted by a pack of wolves. "Did you get a chance to analyze the samples we brought back?"

"You're on temporary suspension by order of Director Fury. You know I'm not supposed to share information with you regarding an active investigation."

"Bruce, you can tell me. I won't use the information to work the case behind everyone's back. This is just to satisfy my curiosity and to keep my mind off that blood test."

Doctor Banner looked dubious.

"I promise!"

Finally relenting, he collected a tablet computer. "I finished processing the samples before you came in. Sample A appears to target markers in mutant genetics. Doctor Andrews, a preeminent physician currently working with the X-Men organization, has concluded research that indicates mutants possess an extra pair of bases within their DNA."

"Speak English, Bruce."

"DNA contains four basic building blocks called nucleobases. They are adenine, guanine, thymine, and cytosine. These form pairs that make up the basic foundation of every human's DNA. In mutants, Doctor Andrews has found evidence of an extra pair of bases which unlocks their supernatural powers. The science is still in its infancy of course."

"Okay, I'm with you so far. Go on."

"Sample A appears to deactivate that extra pair of bases, rendering the mutant human. I've yet to determine if the process is permanent or wears off after a particular amount of time. Sample B came from the lipstick container. It's an antidote that reverses the chemical process of the mutation inhibitor."

"How would one make an antidote to the serum? Could Christian have created it?"

"Highly unlikely," Bruce responded. "You'd need a sample of the serum to break down to its individual chemical levels. Christian wouldn't have had access to the serum for study."

"Then who could have created it?"

"Impossible to determine. Someone who smuggled samples out of the facility, for sure."

"Then Christian has a man on the inside," she declared, "someone who helped him smuggle serum out and arranged for Anastasia Steele to deliver the antidote during visitation hours."

"When you've ruled out all other possibilities, whatever is left, regardless of how absurd it sounds, must be the truth."

"I need to tell Clint. Clint and Rogue are going to interrogate Steele tomorrow. He'll need to know this information…"

Bruce interrupted by saying, "Medical suspension, remember. You're not even supposed to know. Besides, I've already emailed a copy of the report to Clint's inbox."

Natasha blew out another breath and nodded, eyes darting toward the machine Bruce had plugged her blood sample into. Sleeping last night had been impossible. She'd tossed and turned and had eventually left the apartment to spend the remainder of the night bundled in a blanket on the lounge floor balcony rather than disturbing Clint's rest. Howie Mandel's voice kept ping-ponging through her brain. "Deal or no deal." Pregnant or not pregnant.

Tasha clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the shaky breath and accompanying whimper of anxiety when the uncertainty and terror flooded back into her conscious thoughts. So much for distracting herself for any length of time. She'd never felt this way in her life. Being knocked off kilter was single-handedly her worst nightmare. If she were pregnant, she had nine months of being unable to control her hormonal outbursts to look forward to.

"Natasha," Bruce began in his calmest voice, "if you don't calm down, you're going to hyperventilate. If you hyperventilate, I'll have to put you on oxygen. If I put you on oxygen, Miss Potts is going to be super concerned when she stops by to take me to lunch."

Startled by his sudden proximity, she almost clobbered him right in the nose. When had he gotten right there in her face? And why hadn't she noticed his approach? Because she was so unhinged her normal senses were failing her. Drawing in methodical breaths barely helped keep the pent up anxiety contained.

"I can't do this, Bruce. Oh God, I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" she asked, something in her tone completely wild. "Bruce, we're talking about a kid. What the Hell am I going to teach a kid? How to use her big, innocent, kid eyes to manipulate her dad into…"

Those words punched her right in the gut. "Her dad." Clint would be a dad. She had the power to make Clint a dad if those test results came back positive. Tasha totally lost it. She pressed her face in her hands and wept like she hadn't wept in decades.

Feeling Bruce's hand on her back and then slowly being pulled into the comfort of a friendly embrace only made her cry harder. She practically stuffed her hand in her mouth in an effort to muffle her whimpers, because by God, Natasha Romanoff didn't whimper like a distressed five year old!

Through it all, Bruce didn't rush her. He didn't make any Starkisms about the mighty Agent Romanoff coming unglued. Neither did he encourage her tears by whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He was just there. His warm touch kept her grounded. Occasionally, the stubble on his cheeks scratched against her temple and allowed her a moment of sensation to focus on besides the terror ripping her insides apart.

And then a sudden chime from his computer violently dislodged her from her place of misery. Her eyes were deer-in-headlights-wide when she jerked her face from his warm shoulder. She swallowed heavily and rubbed her palms over her thighs again.

"Your test results are ready, Doctor Banner," Jarvis said in an even tone.

Bruce padded over to his screen.

"Just get it over with," she instructed. "Rip it off like a Band-aide."

Alas, her misery was prolonged when Doctor Banner retrieved his glasses from the counter, unfolded them, and slowly slid them into place. She wanted to shout at him to hurry the Hell up, because waiting those extra thirty seconds felt like she was being pulled too thin like over-stretched silly putty.

"Bruce!" she cried plaintively.

He went about removing his glasses and turned to face her before saying, "Positive."

Once. Just once in her entire life, Tasha fell back in a dead faint.

Having the opportunity to take a friend to lunch the day after Christmas when the business world was attempting to grind its gears back into motion wasn't always a guarantee, so Pepper was delighted when her two o'clock cancelled. Enough free time had been cleared from her schedule to eat outside her office. She was looking forward to taking Bruce, whose time was usually monopolized by Tony, to the grand opening of a new bistro a few blocks over when she stepped into the infirmary.

Panic shot a jolt straight through her heart upon finding Tasha flat out on a bed and Bruce using a thick stack of papers to furiously fan her. The man looked like he'd just spotted a freight train barreling in his direction while his car was stalled on the tracks.

"Oh my God, what happened?" she exclaimed. Her taupe D & G pumps clacked against the slate floor as she hurried over to help him maneuver Tasha higher so the woman's legs weren't dangling uncomfortably off the end of the bed.

"I can't say. Doctor patient privilege."

"Is she sick? Should I get Clint up here, because you have something terrible to tell him? You can't just say things like that and not expect us to think the worst!"

"I can't say," he repeated, emphatically. "Doctor patient privilege."

She narrowed her eyes at him shrewdly, glossy lips tightening a fraction. "You don't have a legitimate medical license, Bruce Banner. You're a geneticist, a biologist, and a chemist, but you're not a board certified physician."

"But I'm still acting in the capacity of Agent Romanoff's physician at present, and it's unfair of you to ask me to break privilege and discuss her medical history with you."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, and she had the good manners to look ashamed of herself for having pressured him to talk about Tasha's condition. "Is she going to be all right? You can tell me that at least."

"Yes, she'll be fine. It was momentary shock."

Thankfully, Agent Romanoff was beginning to come around by that point. The other woman groaned softly and fluttered her eyes behind her lids.

Clarity suddenly focused a single thought into being. "She's pregnant, isn't she."

"I can neither confirm nor deny your assumption, Miss Potts," Bruce responded.

"Oh my God, she is!"

"I didn't say anything."

"She's been so nauseated and flighty lately, and what other news could make her faint like that?" The more she thought about it, the more she was certain her assumption was correct. Tasha was pregnant with Clint's baby, and despite Pepper's four inch heels, she wanted to jump in the air and kick her feet together.

The expectant mother's eyes finally parted. She blinked a moment against the fluorescent lights beating down from overhead, and Tasha croaked, "Pepper, what are you doing here?"

"I was going to take Bruce to lunch, but given your exciting news, I think it's more appropriate we have a celebratory meal with the entire Avengers team. The first Avengers baby is definitely something to celebrate."

Tasha's eyes were positively accusatory when she glanced in Bruce's direction.

"I didn't say anything!" he exclaimed.

"Bruce didn't tell me. He, quite rightly so, championed doctor patient privilege, but the signs were all there for anyone to put together. It's not as though having a yeast infection would cause you to faint from shock."

The other woman shuddered at the mention of a yeast infection. "Look, you can't tell anyone. Clint has no idea yet, and when I break it to him, it has to be on my terms."

Pepper mimed zipping her lips. "Whatever the expectant mother wants."

"And stop calling me that. You'll get in the habit and end up blurting it out."

Her expression became slightly crestfallen at Tasha's insinuation she couldn't keep a secret. "I've worked with Tony Stark for almost a decade. It hurts me to think you believe I can't be discreet enough to avoid blabbing."

"Point," Tasha responded. "I haven't even decided what to do yet, whether or not keeping the baby is the right thing for everyone. I need time to get used to the idea, time to figure out what's best."

"You can't wait too long," Bruce said. "Because of the Black Widow enhancements. I'll need time to prepare the appropriate serums, and Tony would be a vast wealth of information and help in doing so. We'll have to find a way to shut down your enhancements temporarily in order to protect the pregnancy."

"Fuck, it's like I have this massive ticking clock chirping away behind my head."

"What are you talking about?" Pepper didn't like being out the loop. She had a tendency to know everything that went on inside Avengers Tower thanks to Jarvis.

Bruce's summary of just what Natasha was facing and the inevitable results should she wait too long in deciding if she wanted to keep the baby were entirely alarming. Pepper reached over and took hold of Tasha's hand, because that was all she could do. Having one's entire life revolve around the KGB was one thing. Having one's reproductive capabilities also controlled by them was a whole different level of invasion.

"Sweetie, whatever you decide, I'm here for you," she said in an effort to reassure Tasha. "If you want this baby, then I'll help you in every way I possibly can, but if you decide having a baby is too much for you, I'll support your reproductive rights from here to Hell and back."

"Yeah, but will you raise the kid for me," the other woman muttered.

Her response was immediate. "Tony and I would need to discuss it first, but I wouldn't rule out the possibility. If we kept you from the public eye for the duration of your pregnancy and outfitted me with a growing baby bump, the world would know this child as a Stark. Behind the scenes, you and Clint would interact with the baby as though she were a Barton."

Stunned silence.

Agent Romanoff had this thing where she sucked her cheeks in slightly while attempting to gain control of her emotions. That look was going on when the woman responded, "You would do that for me?"

"We're friends. Were it necessary to walk on water to make you feel secure in your child's future, I would find a way, but you have to tell Clint." When her friend looked reticent, Pepper pushed harder. "You have to tell Clint before deciding anything. This is nonnegotiable. Clint has a right to know and help you make this decision."

A moment of silence passed before Tasha responded, "Fine. I won't decide anything until I've talked to him, but promise me you won't say anything to anyone until I've told him. Not even Tony. Especially not Tony."

Pepper gripped the other woman's forearm. "This isn't my first rodeo. Believe it or not, I know how to keep my mouth shut and who not to blab things to when they're meant to be a secret. I'd just like to point out that Tony isn't as much of a motor mouth as you're thinking."

"That may be so, but I just need the information to be limited until such a time as I've made a decision." Tasha worked her teeth against the inside of her cheek again and continued, "And thanks for being so reassuring."

"Of course. What do you say you come to lunch with Bruce and I? You need something to take your mind off the immediacy, give yourself a chance to decompress."

"I'd like that."

Pepper padded over to the counter to help herself to a jar of Tootsie Rolls located there when she noticed something interesting. She picked up a clear evidence baggie that contained a lipstick tube. "Where did you get this?"

"It's part of an active investigation from the Vault," Bruce responded. "Why?"

"It's a vintage Lancôme container. You don't see many of them around anymore unless they're a collector of early memorabilia. The case is eighteen carat gold plated, so we're talking top of the line cosmetics from back in the day."

Next Chapter: Christian rears his ugly head, and Clint becomes Rogue's knight in shining SHIELD gear.

Edit: Thanks to Nyx Wings for pointing out a science mistake so I could correct it. Hopefully it's more correct this go around.