The Bar In The Second Living Room (On The First Floor)

Tony sat at the bar, staring absently at a half-empty glass of scotch, his hand pressed firmly against the ever-warming glass. Pepper was off in the bathroom with Natasha (no doubt in hysterics), and Bruce was off in the lab on the top floor. Hand slick with melted ice, Tony ran his hand through his hair, numbly enjoying the water that ran down the back of his neck, cooling down his brain so it didn't overheat with the various possibilities. Aside from the occasional stroking of his head and sip from his glass, he had been sitting motionless as a statue for the past twenty or so minutes.

That girl easily could have been telling the truth about being from the future (after personally seeing the Chitauri enter the earth from the portal created by the Tesseract, he had learned not to count out seemingly impossible events). Even if she was from another time, that was still no guarantee that she was really who she claimed to be. Any idiot off the street could see the resemblance she had to himself and Pepper, but even today medical science was making startlingly rapid developments, so who was to say that she wasn't a spy employing some kind of transformative technology? Then again, her methods weren't the most clear-cut in the world. He would hardly be surprised if she was borderline psychotic.

"But she did seem genuinely shocked to see Pepper..." He muttered contemplatively to himself, trying to puzzle out the girl.

The Bathroom

Natasha watched uncomfortably from the doorway as Pepper was bent low over the toilet, strawberry-blonde head half submerged in the porcelain bowl. The spy wasn't sure if the other woman was heaving or crying; loud, indistinguishable sounds emanating from the water. On a scale of one to having to fight the Hulk again, she'd rather be taking on Bruce's alter ego as opposed to offering a comforting hand, as Natasha wasn't the most emotional person around...

"There, there." She said gently, hovering next to the sink, just close enough to be seen but not near enough to be certain of Pepper's actions.

Sobbing, Pepper pulled herself away from the bowl to look at Natasha, "How do women handle that? The idea of spending the next few weeks like this is appalling."

Tossing her a towel from the rack next to the counter, Natasha made a note that neither assumption was wrong, "Then don't."

"What?" Pepper understood what she was saying, but she couldn't believe it.

Sure, she disliked the morning sickness, but she didn't hate it enough to kill her baby! And even taking that avenue into consideration, there were other reasons that it was an option at all. It was a fact that she had taken care of Tony for what felt like a majority of their adult lives, but that was different - adults could be reasoned with, and the last time she had checked (the time-efficient child play-center built into every Stark Industries office her source of information (the idea actually a rather cleaver one originally proposed by Obadiah Stane)), children weren't as apt in the art of compromise. Forget Tony and his underwhelming response to the news (he had done his best to avoid the topic at all costs since she had told him), though looking at what she knew of his past, Pepper could hardly blame him.

Standing at the sink (after washing her hands), the one-time CEO looked at the female spy watching her intently, a look of cold indifference on her normally composed, freckly face, "Were you in my shoes, would you do that? After seeing your child grown up, could you kill her before she was ever born?"

Magdalyn's bold claim had really shaken Pepper, probably to the core, but she had hid it well from the others (not that the guys were exactly renown for their powers of human observation (though it was undeniable that they were masters of observation in their respected fields)). Not that she would dare call it motherly, Pepper had felt a certain connection to the stranger the minute they had met, a connection that she couldn't explain one way or another. Lying to them all or not, there was something special about Magdalyn...

Looking down, Natasha sighed, coming to a rather personal conclusion before looking back up, "Do you know why I don't get close to people?"

Tempted to say something that wasn't very nice, Pepper held the retort back, "Why?"

"No," She cracked a smile at the slightly older woman, reading her thoughts by her body language, "you're right, it's not in my nature. I was raised by a monster. I have a special skill set, and until I met Clint, I didn't care who I used it for. Or on."

Realizing a small hole in the conversation, the businesswoman was quick to point it out, "You seem comfortable with Clint and Bruce."

"Bruce is great." Natasha brightened at the mere mention of his name, but was almost instantly darkened again when she thought of Hawkeye, "...It's complicated with agent Barton."

Having loved a man that she shouldn't love, for several uncounted and unappreciated years no less, Pepper understood more than well enough (the use of his last name also a huge giveaway), "You love him."

Natasha narrowed her bejeweled eyes, "Love is for children. I owe him a debt."

"How much could you really owe him that you haven't already paid back?" Being in her line of work, Pepper was well-versed in the art of bullshit (not that she had anything on Natasha).

"He saved my life. Can you put a price on a life?" She walked to the door, looking back at Pepper, "I can't."

Silent as a shadow, she left the restroom, leaving Pepper standing alone, left to think on her words. Can you put a price on a life? I can't. So Natasha wasn't exactly telling her to "take care of it". Knowing that somehow helped...

Mag's Room

Seated at the window still, Magdalyn gazed intently at the outside world, taking a deep, resolve gathering breath before looking at Steve (who was standing awkwardly by the door). He had came to speak with her after her bombshell announcement (which wasn't exactly true), and though it seemed a good thing to say at the time, she was regretting it now. Sometimes she really did feel irked by having her father's sick sense of humor. Fair enough, she hated having anything to do with her father, but his smart-assness was really bothersome at times. Like, all the time.

"S-"

She cut him off before he could really even begin, "Allow me to just save us some time and answer what I assume brought you here - We're not dating. We're not even... being intimate. I only said that to piss my old man off, and I just didn't think about anyone else in the process."

Like Tony, apparently the word 'sorry' wasn't in her vocabulary, but he understood nonetheless that what she said was the Stark equivalent, "But why me?"

"You're that bastard's best friend, so how could I not?" She laughed, but it was hollow, a lump forming in her throat, hazel eyes diamonds misting over "And there was another reason..."

She looked away, eyes resting on a rosebush near the front gate. He had the sense to see that whatever was behind her eyes was a terrible thing that had left a deep wound in her heart. She might have been a hard one to figure out, laughing one moment and glaring the next, but it was obvious that there was something at work behind her erratic actions. He wondered what could possibly have happened to her that would scar her so badly (being Tony's daughter probably wasn't the easiest, but he could imagine that she had it better than almost anyone (Tony was...Tony, but there was a lot in him that would surprise most)).

Standing next to her suddenly, infinitely more comfortable now that he knew the truth about their relationship, he put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Mag, what happened?"

"Do you see that rosebush?" She pointed at it, not bothering to see if he had looked at the red buds in mid-bloom, "I was pruning that bush when I found out that I was..." She couldn't bring herself to say the words directly, so she reworded it, "I got sick, right when I was tending to it. I thought that it might have been the Palladium coming back, but that wasn't it... A part of me wishes that it was."

Steve looked away out of respect as her hazel eyes glimmered, tears welling up at the corners, an unpredictable stream rolling down her cheeks, washing away her makeup. He hadn't noticed it before (due to the obscene amounts of cover-up caking her flesh), but her skin wasn't as airbrushed as it had originally appeared to be. Lightly tanned like her father and sprinkled lightly with a dimmer version of her mother's freckles, Mag's skin was actually a host to dark blue markings - markings he knew (from the file he had read on Iron Man prior to meeting Tony) to be the tattle-tale sign of Palladium poisoning.

He knew that it was rude to pry into other people's personal lives, but this was serious, so Steve felt that it would be irresponsible to ignore it, "Mag, I need you to tell me your story, from the beginning."

Mag nodded, "I guess that I do owe you that much."

Well that took for freaking ever! And I know, abortion is a huge topic all on its own, that may or may not warrant a higher rating. I don't know. Personally, I am against the very thought of an abortion personally, but a woman's body is her business, and I don't judge. Reviews are totally appreciated.