Recommendation: Story recommendation for this chapter is "Last Second Savior" by plums. Harry does something stupidly heroic and gets transported to a galaxy far, far away. He arrives just in time to save the life of a blue-skinned, Twi'lek Jedi Knight, thus changing the course of history. I prefer to recommend finished stories, but this one is really good and I want to bring it to people's attention anyway. Although it hasn't been updated in a while, it hasn't been officially abandoned — perhaps some positive reviews will help plums start adding to it again.

Chapter 7 - Making Connections

Tintagel, England. June 12, 2009.

After casting cushioning charms on the rocks midway up the cliff below Tintagel castle, Hermione and Iris sat down to have a serious conversation about the effects that the arc reactor energy seemed to have on magic. For witches and wizards, this was dangerous and explosive knowledge that they wanted to keep quiet for as long as possible.

That's why they came here — it was the most secure place they had, aside perhaps from Hermione's hidden cottage, and Iris wanted to ward it before they used it for discussions like this. They had barely even whispered anything about having this conversation, they were so paranoid about others finding out about it.

"So," Iris started out, "I assume you saw what happened between Vanko's plasma whips and my sticking charm?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes — even with a weak sticking charm, a muggle shouldn't have been able to break it with brute force. And electricity shouldn't have affected it, either. It looked like there must be something about energy coming from the arc reactor that interferes with magic."

"I agree. When I got close to him, my hair was standing on end and I felt uncomfortable. I don't know what exactly the interaction between the two is, but I'd like to know, because it doesn't seem like it's good for us magic users."

Hermione sighed. "I'd love to work on it right now, but I'm too busy researching Tony's condition and trying to find a magical cure for it."

"I know, but put this at the top of your list for when you're finished with that project," Iris said. "If muggles have a way of countering or repelling magic, we need to know. If muggles have a way of driving off or harming magicals, we really need to know."

"You said it was affecting you, and now that I think of it, something was happening to me as well, though not to the same degree. Do you think that we might have been harmed by all the energy that those whips were pushing into the air?"

Iris shrugged. "I guess it's possible — I've felt a bit off since the fight, but I've been assuming that it was due to the H.A.R.D. landing. Though that raises the question of why it hasn't happened to you long before now, given how much exposure you've had to Tony's arc reactor."

"There's hardly any energy leakage from his chest piece," Hermione pointed out. "It's very, very efficient. There isn't even enough loss to create static cling around it." She paused for a moment to consider. "At any rate, I've been feeling odd lately, too, but I figured it was general stress and lack of sleep catching up to me."

"OK, that does leave the whips as possible problems, but I don't know what we'd be able to do about it. It worries me, though, because it's still affecting us, more than two weeks later."

"If the whips harmed us at all," Hermione said, "do you think you could heal it the same way you helped me before? Normally I'd check with a healer, but I'm not sure they'd know what to look for. I'm also not sure I'd want anyone else knowing about this yet."

"I suppose I can try. I don't see how it could hurt, at least."

"Fine," Hermione said. "Do I, uh, need to lie down? Or what?"

"I just need skin contact," Iris said. After a moment's thought, she added, "It would probably be most comfortable for you if you untuck your shirt and lean back into me while I'm behind you and we're sitting down. I can put my hands on your belly, and if you feel lightheaded for any reason, I'll keep you upright."

"Is that a risk?"

"I don't know," Iris admitted. "I've only ever done it to you and to myself. You were already unconscious, and with me it was always with serious injuries that came with lightheadedness as part of the package."

"Alright," Hermione said as she lifted her shirt a little and scooted over to sit right in front of Iris. "You know," she said as she leaned back and Iris embraced her, "if I were the suspicious type, I'd suspect that you picked this position for entirely different reasons."

"Hey," Iris responded with a grin, "I never claimed that there weren't any fringe benefits to the situation."

Hermione closed her eyes, waiting to experience whatever it was that Iris was going to do. At first she simply felt the warmth of Iris' hands, then her hands kept growing warmer and warmer — but never uncomfortably so. Then the warmth spread across her abdomen, creating comforting and relaxing sensations. Suddenly, she could feel a rapid pulsing of energy along what she was certain must have been her magical core.

Hermione's eye snapped open and she wanted to yell at Iris to stop, to move away, anything other than continuing like this; but she couldn't speak, and with the exception of her eyes, she couldn't move, either. As the foreign energy pulsed and crackled along her core, the warmth spreading across her body transformed into a tingling sensation, then into an incredibly pleasurable sensation — more pleasurable than anything Hermione had ever experienced in her life. She was tempted to call it sexual, except for the fact that it felt as if it was happening with every nerve in her body.

At the same time, it seemed as though her core itself was inflating or twisting. She couldn't identify what exactly it was except that it was incredibly uncomfortable — not exactly painful and not exactly pleasurable, but a bizarre combination of both that she desperately wanted to end.

Then, as suddenly as it started, warmth and tingling and pleasure all ceased. Hermione arched her back and sucked in a breath, then all went to black.

Littledean, Gloucestershire, England. June 12, 2009.

Hermione came to consciousness slowly. At first, she was simply aware, but unsure of where she was or what had happened. Eventually she came to realize that she was in a bed, warm, and comfortable. So far, so good, she thought. After a bit, memories started returning: arranging to talk to Iris about the weird things that had been happening. Apparating to Tintagel for some privacy. Talking. Iris' warm hands. Tingling sensations. Iris using her healing skills to see if...

Oh, Iris! Hermione thought as she shot upright in bed, then immediately regretted it as the blood left her head and she began to feel faint.

"Hey, now," she heard Iris talking to her in the darkened room, "don't do that." She felt Iris' hands and arms embrace her and gently ease her back down on the bed. "I'm glad to see you're awake, finally."

"How long?" she croaked out.

"About six hours. I was starting to get worried."

"Where?"

"Your place," she said. "I'm glad you keyed me in the last time we were here — I didn't want to take you back to Malibu and have to explain this."

Hermione put a hand over her eyes and massaged them, trying to force her brain to start firing on all cylinders so she could talk more coherently. She felt Iris sit on the edge of the bed and lean over her. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what I did wrong," she said. "It seemed to be going fine and it felt like it always did, so I don't know what happened."

Hermione opened her eyes again and looked into Iris'. "Well, can you describe what exactly it was that you did? I was assuming that you simply overpowered a basic healing spell — nothing fancy, since you never had healer training. But you didn't, did you." It wasn't a question.

"No, I just, well... willed my magic to heal you."

Hermione shook her head. "Are you sure, Iris? It felt different from any spell I've ever been hit with. Is it possible that what you did was will your magic into me?"

"Well," Iris said slowly, "how would that be different?"

"A spell is structured magic," Hermione explained. "It's magic drawn out from within us then given form, intent, and purpose by our will, our knowledge, and our emotions. It does one thing, and then any leftover energy dissipates back into the earth or air, returning to the ambient magic that is always around us. If you pushed your raw, unstructured, unpurposed magic directly into my body... I'm not sure what would happen."

Iris still looked confused. "Do you think it's a bad thing?"

"I don't know, honestly. Do you have any idea what you were thinking when you healed me the first time? What thoughts or words were running through your head?"

Iris concentrated for a moment before responding, "I can't say with absolute certainty, but I'm pretty sure that my mind kept shifting between worry about you, my feelings for you, and my desire that you be healthy and strong enough that I could leave you to find Stane."

"And this second time?"

"Pretty similar. I was more focused on... well, my strong feelings for you, I guess. Holding you like that probably didn't help, and in that sense I suppose it was less structured. But I was also thinking about wanting you to be strong and healthy."

Hermione nodded slightly. "Well, I'm sure that helped, at any rate. It means that the magic you used on me wasn't completely unstructured, I suspect."

"How are you feeling?"

"Actually," Hermione said, stretching, "I feel remarkably good. Well, except for feeling light headed there for a moment. In fact, I can't remember feeling this good before." She stretched again and twisted her body, gauging how it felt to use her limbs. "Or this strong, in fact. I've definitely lost that odd feeling that I had earlier." She paused for a moment, then frowned slightly and said, "Maybe it worked like a strong Pepperup potion, but for my magic?"

"Maybe," Iris said, "but you're venturing well outside my knowledge of magic. Theory has never been my strong suit."

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked.

"I..." Iris started to answer, then hesitated as a look of concentration crossed her face. "Now that you ask, I'm feeling a bit better. I hadn't been thinking about it because I was so worried about you, but the oddness isn't quite as strong."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "You didn't do to yourself what you did to me, right?" When Iris shook her head, Hermione went on, "Then perhaps it was just using magic like that? Using it in its raw form rather than in a focused, structured manner?"

"That seems like a bit of a stretch, but I haven't used a lot of serious magic in the past couple of weeks while I've been healing up, so it may not be a coincidence. I can try using a bit more magic to see if it helps. Nothing big, since I'd still prefer to avoid that, but maybe for more casual things that I usually do the muggle way."

Hermione nodded. "It probably won't hurt. We won't know more until I can do some serious research on it. Until then, we'll keep all of this to ourselves. Once I know more, or at least understand something about how arc reactor energy and magic interact, then we can start telling people, I guess."

Iris agreed. This wasn't something she wanted generally known, at least for the time being.

Private Airport, France. June 15, 2009.

Ivan Vanko looked with contempt at the spineless man sitting across from him at the table. How does a man such as this acquire so much power and wealth? he wondered, then smiled to give the impression that he was happy. Nothing could have been further from the truth, however. Granted, this Justin Hammer had broken him out of prison, and it looked like he would provide another opportunity to get back at Tony Stark, but that didn't mean Vanko was happy. This ignorant, ineffectual man would place demands on him and attempt to control him, getting in the way of his vengeance. That would be... annoying.

"You can't just try to kill a man like Tony Stark," Hammer was saying, "You have to go after his legacy."

Even more annoying would be the fact that he couldn't kill the twit whenever his voice got to be too grating, which would have been about two minutes into their current meeting. He had known men like this back home — Novye Russkie. New Russians. Men who made their wealth by being criminals, then pretending to be honest, decent folk. Just like Stark, he thought. After regarding Hammer for a moment, he amended himself, No, not quite. Even Stark isn't quite as nekulturny as this Hammer person.

"You know, the two of us are a lot alike. The only difference between us is that I have resources," he said, "and you need my resources."

He smiled again, putting the twit at ease. Did he think he could overawe me with this lavish dining service? It's insulting to think that this would sway me. I'd have been more impressed with an honest, simple meal — some bread, cheese and vodka, and maybe I'd have tried to be his friend. He chewed on the stringy fowl before swallowing the bite whole. Of course, someone who'd think to offer me such a meal might be worthy of friendship.

"I want my bird," Vanko finally informed Hammer.

"What?"

"My bird," Vanko repeated. "I want it." He didn't expect Hammer to get his bird. He would have liked to have his bird back, of course, but he didn't expect it to happen. He wanted to see how desperate Hammer was and what kind of man he was. A desperate man would make the attempt. An honest man would admit to being unable to fulfill the request, even if it made him look a bit less powerful. A lying, cheating man would try to give him some other bird and tell him it was the same one.

"Is this a bird that's back in Russia?" Hammer asked haplessly.

Ivan Vanko knew which option Hammer would likely end up choosing. He smiled again, this time genuinely. He may be a liar and a cheat, but he's also stupid, which means I'll be able to do what I want once I get my hands on his technology. Tony Stark will never know what hit him.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, Location Unknown. June 18, 2009.

Nick Fury looked at the reports in front of him, hoping that they didn't all add up to what he'd thought they did on his initial read-through. First, there had been an incident in Milwaukee that looked suspiciously like a case of gamma-ray poisoning. Initial eyewitness statements pointed to something that sounded a lot like a sighting of Banner's alter ego, but somehow they all changed their minds within a day, and there were signs of Department of Defense involvement. You DoD boys don't have enough experience in this field to conceal your involvement, Fury thought, at least not from me.

Second, something happened down in Rio, but what, exactly, no one could tell — the statements from witnesses were all over the place. The only things they agreed on were the presence of black-clad gringos speaking English and shooting what appeared to be tiny syringes. Another gringo who had a favored position in the local soft drink bottling plant mysteriously disappeared the same night. Was that you, Banner? Fury wondered. Last place we had you was Mexico. What sent you farther south? And where are you headed now?

Third, General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross disappeared for a couple of days. Fury had been forced to dig around to get that information because Ross had hidden his absence well, and he probably never would have learned about it at all had the first two reports not crossed his desk. It was Ross that tied them together, though. Ross, the man so obsessed with capturing Bruce Banner that he repeatedly put his career at risk in order to run black ops missions anywhere in the world that a sighting for the Hulk came from.

There was a fourth report about several members of SOCOM suffering from severe physical injuries without an obvious cause, but Fury put that aside for someone else to follow up on so he could focus on Ross. I could send another warning to Ross, Fury considered, but that would make him even more paranoid and secretive. Or I could put some extra watchers on him to see what he's up to. Maybe I need to take another look into the rumor that he reactivated a decommissioned army base in the southwest for his little side projects, too.

After a couple of minutes he made his decision, signed off on the relevant orders, and turned to his other major headaches: Tony Stark, Iris Potter, and Hermione Granger. Some days, he lamented, I wonder whether the Avengers Initiative is going to be worth it in the end. There still wasn't any new intel on Ivan Vanko. All of his public records had been easy to access, and Fury had some more information on his father's past that he needed to pass along to Stark.

How Vanko had managed to get his equipment to Monaco and through the security net, though, was still a mystery and that troubled him. At least we won't have to worry about him bothering us again, since he died in that prison explosion.

Malibu, California. June 23, 2009.

Hermione and Iris sat eating breakfast together in Tony Stark's kitchen. Hermione had been basically living in Stark's home ever since her research into finding a magical cure for Tony's palladium poisoning had taken over her life. Iris had joined her as a house guest once Stark had revealed his condition and S.H.I.E.L.D. had come through with a partial treatment for his symptoms. While the S.H.I.E.L.D. serum was holding off the worst of the ill effects, Hermione still hadn't given up hope that she'd find a complete cure.

Fury wanted her there to keep an eye on Stark, who wanted her around so he could keep an eye on her. Iris was happy to eliminate the daily commute and have more time to spend with Hermione, even if she was working all the time. One thing that continued to intrigue Iris was how she would occasionally get a feeling that Hermione was approaching or nearby. Ever since she first noticed it at Tony's birthday party almost a month ago, she'd been paying attention to see if it happened again — and it did. Not all the time and not too often, but often enough that she was sure it wasn't random coincidence.

She wasn't ready to mention it to Hermione yet because she wanted to try to learn more about it on her own, but she knew she'd have to bring it up sooner or later.

"This Expo of yours is a gigantic waste of time and money," they heard Pepper complain in the other room.

"Right now, there's nothing of greater importance to me than my Expo," came Tony's reply. "It is, in fact, my primary point of concern." Tony came walking into the kitchen and, without acknowledging them, headed out to the living room and downstairs into his lab. Pepper came right behind, but chose not to follow him into his lab. She looked over at the two witches, and they could see how exasperated she was.

Iris raised one eyebrow in a questioning manner, and Pepper declared, "I don't know what to do about him sometimes. The Expo is pointless, but he spends all of his time on that instead of answering all the criticism that's coming in about him and the company. His image took a real beating after Monaco, but he hasn't responded in the media."

"Maybe the Expo is about his image?" Iris suggested.

Pepper blinked a couple of times before saying, "Maybe I can use that... I need to get to the office. Thanks! Bye!" And with that, she was gone.

"Don't get too involved in their drama," Hermione recommended. "If you let yourself get sucked in, you'll never be able to pull yourself back out."

"Is that the voice of experience, O Wise One?" Iris asked with a quirk of her lips.

"Absolutely," Hermione said as she flipped to another piece of parchment in whatever she was reading. "I learned after about a week of living here not to delve too deeply into what's going on between them. Pepper has a standing offer from me to talk if she ever wants to, but she has to initiate. I won't insert myself, not anymore."

Iris smiled, wondering if she should ask about what happened, before taking another sip of tea. "What have you been reading there?"

"It's a letter from Ginny," Hermione answered. "I've been getting a lot more letters from different people lately, and they're mostly filled with disturbing news."

"How so?" Iris asked.

"Well," Hermione said slowly, trying to organize her thoughts. "Take this letter, for instance. In it Ginny gives her usual update on the Weasley family, but there are lots of little hints of problems. George, for example, is spending a lot of time away from home; Ginny thinks he's going to the cemetery to sit by Fred's grave. Percy is putting in a lot of overtime at the Ministry, dealing with missing persons reports and other social unrest. Ron is spending a lot of time with the new WWW shop in Hogsmeade, and Ginny says he always comes home worried. That much I already knew — reading between the lines of his last letter, I could tell that he was seeing more and more people who were afraid, and that was starting to make him afraid, though he didn't come right out and say it."

"So, there's growing fear across magical Britain?" Iris said with a frown.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that's it exactly. There are some reasons for it, like the missing people, but a lot of it seems to be unfocused. People seem to know that something is wrong, but they can't say what, exactly. And it appears to be getting worse."

"Can you ask them for more details? Specifics?"

"I've asked Hannah Longbottom because she's close to Susan Bones, but that's it. The others don't seem able to pinpoint what's going on."

Iris nodded, knowing that it was hard for many wizards and witches to reason their way through logical problems. "Try to keep me informed, please. I'd like to keep abreast of what's going on. If there are problems, I might be able to do something. If there are big problems. S.H.I.E.L.D. may want to get involved." Iris sighed deeply before adding, "Not that I'm particularly eager to save magical Britain. Again. I didn't want to be their hero or savior the first time, and I'm sure I'll want it even less now." Hermione could tell that it still rankled that Iris had never had a chance at a normal life.

"I doubt that many wizards or witches would appreciate it if muggles stuck their noses in magical business," Hermione observed.

"True," Iris agreed, "but that's one reason why S.H.I.E.L.D. has me. I'm still magical, even if I've been absent for a while. Though I'm sure they'd be happy having more than one magical in their ranks..."

She gave Hermione a pointed look until the other witch huffed and said, "I told you, I haven't made a decision yet. And even if I had, I wouldn't change jobs until Tony is cured." Iris smiled to herself, thinking that she was making progress.

"Why should I have to be the one to quit and change jobs, though?"

"What?" Iris exclaimed, completely off-balance.

"Why should I be the one to change?" Hermione asked again. "If working together would be so great, why don't you quit S.H.I.E.L.D. and come work for Stark Industries?" Iris sat there, doing an impressive imitation of a fish, so Hermione continued, "It's obviously less dangerous, and I wouldn't have to worry about you so much. There's less travel, less stress, and I'll bet Tony would pay you more, too."

Iris couldn't take it anymore and finally responded, "But... but... listen, you know I can't do a job like yours. I'm no good with theory and research. I'm a doer, not a thinker."

"You've got that right," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

Iris frowned but kept going, pretending not to have heard that comment. "Tony doesn't have job openings for people like me."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked with an innocent-looking face. "You're doing a wonderful job as a personal secretary. Or personal assistant." Hermione waved her hand vaguely in the air, "You know, whatever."

"What?" Iris practically shouted. "That's a cover! It's not a real job!"

"But you do it so well," Hermione said sweetly.

"It's still not a real job! It's not my job!" Iris ranted. "It's not what I do!"

"And what is it that you do, again?" Hermione inquired.

"I'm an intelligence agent! I steal information! I kill bad guys! I... I... I blow shit up!"

Hermione frowned. "Hardly good things to put on a résumé."

"What?" Iris shouted again. "I don't do résumés, either!"

"Then why do you do all of those things?"

"Because it's necessary. It's not fun, but it's important work. I save people. I protect people."

"So, you're not a secretary, you're a hero?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Yes!" Iris said, triumphantly. Then she quickly deflated and looked aghast at Hermione, remembering all the times at Hogwarts when she had lamented having to be the hero, wishing she could lead a simple, ordinary, uninteresting life. Wishing she could be "just Iris." Most of those times, Hermione had let her complain, but occasionally she pointed out that such deeds needed to be done by someone, and that she wouldn't trust anyone more than Iris to do them.

Iris realized she was living the life that Hermione had thought she could lead — that she had been living up to Hermione's expectations for her.

Iris was sorely tempted to be annoyed at Hermione for tricking her like that, but Hermione's warm smile overwhelmed that initial, instinctive reaction of hers. Instead of fighting it, she took Hermione's hand in her own and simply reveled in the contact.

Malibu, California. July 28, 2009.

Iris saw Tony heading for the front door with car keys jingling in his hand so rushed to catch up with him. "Do you need me to accompany you?" she asked.

"Nah, Pepper left a message about having a bunch of my stuff — or my father's stuff — at the office that she wants picked up or she'll throw it all out. I don't know what's there, but I should look it over at least — and if I end up bringing much back, there won't be room in the car for you, too. It's a quick trip."

"You know she's still mad at you," Iris pointed out.

Tony winced. "I know, I got that impression from her message."

"I'm guessing you haven't told her yet?" Iris asked.

Tony stopped walking and tensed up a little before answering, "No, and frankly I've been trying to avoid thinking about it."

"She'll be annoyed that you kept it from her, but once she gets past that, she'll be happier knowing. She'll want to be there for you, supporting you."

Tony looked her square in the eyes for a moment, then asked, "And have you told her yet?"

Iris grimaced at having the conversation turned around on her like that. "No, I haven't."

Tony glanced back in the direction that Hermione likely was, then looked at Iris again. "How about I make you a deal: I'll tell if you tell."

Iris' brows rose nearly to her hairline. "Really? You'll tell Pepper about your condition, but only if I talk to Hermione about what I told Stane?"

"Yep," Tony said with a triumphant gleam in his eye.

Iris saw that and narrowed her eyes before saying, "OK, you've got a deal."

"See, that's... what?" Tony broke off, doing a double take. "You mean it?"

"Yes, of course. Shake on it?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Tony looked at the hand as if he expected it to bite him, then finally reached out and shook it. "But if I come back and find that you haven't told her," he said as he gripped her hand tightly, "I'll tell her myself."

Iris nodded, impressed that he'd thought of that condition. "Fine — and the same goes for you if you fail to tell Pepper."

"Fine," Tony said, releasing her hand and making ready to leave.

"You know, you might improve your chances of survival by bringing a peace offering to her."

"Oh?" Tony asked as he stopped and turned back around. "Any suggestions?"

Iris thought for a moment. "Something bright and colorful? I think she likes red."

Tony smiled. "Thanks, that's a great suggestion. See you later!"

Once he was gone, Iris slumped against the wall and groaned. She hadn't been prepared to have that conversation with Hermione any time soon, and certainly not today.

Los Angeles, California, July 28, 2009.

Tony strode into Pepper's office without knocking because... well, it simply never occurred to him. And it used to be his office anyway.

"Yes, but the company's fundamentals remain strong, despite what happened with Tony in Monaco," Pepper was saying on the phone while shooting him a dirty look. Tony had the grace to look a little embarrassed as he sat across from her.

"No, that won't matter," she continued. "It's our position that our trademark property was taken in an illegal seizure. Mr. Stark continues to hold proprietary ownership of the Mark II platform, regardless of where the suit currently is. No, it belongs to us."

"OK, we'll discuss that at the meeting," Pepper continued. "I'll talk to you then. Bye." She set down the phone and looked pointedly at him. "Yes?" she asked. "Are you here for your father's things?"

"Mostly," Tony said, floundering because the conversation was already going badly before he'd even had a chance to speak. Suddenly remembering Iris' suggestion of a peace offering, he reached into his bag and pulled out the large carton of strawberries he'd purchased from a roadside vendor. Bright, colorful, and red. Also, delicious! he thought as he set it on the desk in front of Pepper. The perfect peace offering. Thank you, Iris!

Pepper looked at the strawberries as if they were something that had crawled up on her desk and died. Messily.

"Really, Tony?" she drawled. When she saw how confused he looked, she continued, "You bought me the one thing in the entire world that I'm allergic to? Violently allergic to?"

"Oh." Tony said, surprise clear on his face. "I knew that there was something, some sort of connection between you and strawberries. I just, uh, forgot what it was exactly." He quickly grabbed the offending carton and tossed it into the nearby trashcan. Damn you, Iris!

Pepper shook her head in exasperation. "I don't have time for your games, Tony. You've been withdrawn, moody, behaving oddly...and for months, now. I can't handle it — I now have a company to run. Your company, as a matter of fact, and it takes a lot of time and effort to do it, especially when I have to clean up your messes as well."

Tony watched her gather up some things from her desk as she prepared to leave. If she's that busy, then dumping my problems on her might make it all worse, he thought. Then again, it's not like either of us will be finding more time in the day any time soon. And if I don't do it now, Iris is bound to.

"I don't suppose you have time for lunch?" he asked hopefully, wondering if a change in setting would make this easier.

"No, Tony, I don't," Pepper said, barely paying attention to him now. "I've got far too much to do here and can't take off whenever I feel like it." She was moving to the door now, and Tony suddenly knew with crystal-clear certainty that if he didn't say something now, he'd not only lose his chance to say something, but he'd lose Pepper entirely. After all that he'd said and done — and all that he hadn't said and done — she was simply walking out, and in more ways than one.

"I'm dying," he blurted out as she put her hand on the door. When he noticed that she had frozen in place, he added, "I'm sorry about how blunt that was, but in my defense I did try to take you out to lunch so I could tell you this in a better context."

"What?" she asked, a horrified expression on her face as she turned back around.

"I said it's your fault that I had to be so blunt because you wouldn't go out to lunch with me," he answered.

"No, Tony, the first part," Pepper said, shaking her head. "Is this some sick, twisted game you're trying to play?"

"No!" Tony said, embarrassed that she would think such a thing. "It's the arc reactor. The palladium I have to use as a core is poisoning me. I finally got a treatment for the symptoms, but that's only delaying things. Well, it's the second treatment I've gotten. The first helped for a while, then stopped. Now I'm trying something else."

Pepper started walking slowly over to Tony, dropping the things she'd picked up from her desk. "And what are you doing about this?"

"I've been trying to find an alternate core for months," Tony explained as he tiredly rubbed his face, "and Hermione has been looking for magical solutions since before she moved into my house. Unfortunately, neither of us has had any luck. Even the treatment I'm trying now came from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Pepper dropped into the chair next to Tony's and said, "Months? You've known about this for months? And when were you planning on telling me?"

Tony winced slightly and looked down at his feet before answering, "At first, I thought that if I could solve the problem, there'd be no need. Why get you worried about something that was quickly and easily fixed? As time went by, and every attempt to find a solution failed, I grew more and more depressed. I... I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you feeling as bad as I did."

Looking back up at her, he continued, "You always seemed to be in such a good mood, and... well, I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't want to make your life harder. I guess I saw this as my burden to bear."

Pepper leapt forward and hugged him while sobbing into his shoulder, unable to find words to express either how angry she was at his pigheaded reticence or how upset she was over his condition. She pounded his shoulder a few times instead. Tony embraced her awkwardly, suddenly remembering that not wanting to deal with a crying woman was another reason why he hadn't said anything sooner and thanking his lucky stars that he didn't say that out loud.