He had called her out of the blue. In the middle of the night. She'd only gone home from work a few hours ago. Pepper had quietly left him to his suit in the workshop all day; he'd murmured that it needed tuning up after the last mission.

So now what did he need? She would not be touching any more of that pus he called plasmic discharge. Well, she would if he was dying or something. But that was beside the point. He had said that the miniature arc reactor would remain where it was.

With the thought of Tony dying in her mind, her heart raced and her gas pedal continued to get closer and closer to the floor board.

It wasn't even Tony who had called. It had been Jarvis.

"Miss Potts, Mr. Stark requires your immediate assistance."

Before she could ask what he needed, the line had gone dead.

She had re-dialed the number quickly, but had received no answer.

"Jarvis, get rid of that incessant ringing," Tony grumbled into the couch cushion.

"Sir, it's Miss Potts," the British AI replied.

"Don't care. You told her I needed her here right?"

"Yes sir."

Tony sighed, "Then she'll get here eventually."

-LineBreak-

Pepper had gotten up out of bed after her call wasn't answered. She pulled a jacket over her flannel pajamas- a birthday gift from Tony (she'd picked them out; he didn't even know that he'd bought them.)

She jumped in her car and headed to Tony's, not bothering to maintain an average speed limit. She'd slow down and then get faster; the gas pedal had a direct line to her emotions.

Pepper drove into the garage, almost running over the suit that Tony had left out in the middle of the room.

As soon as her slip-on sneaker hit the hard, black floor, she was calling out for him.

"Tony!"

Her eyes traversed the entire workshop, making sure he wasn't in the surgeon's chair he had in the corner.

"Tony!"

"Miss Potts has arrived Sir."

"Jarvis, please, for the love of this house, please turn your volume down."

"I'm sorry sir," Jarvis seemed to whisper, "Miss Potts is here."

"I understand that. Now," he started to get a bit aggravated, "would you please tell her to get her butt up here?"

"Yes sir."

"Miss Potts."

Pepper heard the computer say, and it were as if he were trying to be quiet. She turned her head towards the ceiling and nodded her head.

"Yes Jarvis? What's the problem?"

"Mr. Stark has informed me to tell you that you should get your butt upstairs."

Pepper wanted to laugh at the polite sounding computer, imagining that Mr. Stark hadn't wanted him to really repeat him word for word. Instead, she sighed and shuffled through the glass door and up the stairs, past the large water-fountain. She saw him lying on his stomach, arms off to his sides, and his head turned towards the coffee table.

"What's the problem Mr. Stark?" She asked.

His eyes clamped shut at the sound of her voice, "Please Miss Potts, lower your voice."

"Have you been drinking?" She half whispered.

"No." he huffed and re-opened his eyes slightly.

"Then I'll ask again. What's the problem?"

"I don't feel good."

She wanted to laugh. She really and truly did. Anthony Edward Stark had never admitted to her willingly that he felt bad. Pepper usually had to fight him tooth and nail to take an aspirin and lie down.

"Why don't you feel good?" she asked, walking over to him and wrapping her jacket around her just a little tighter.

Pepper had interrupted his line of sight, making him look at the small ducks all over her pajamas.

"I don't know," he closed his eyes. The ducks were just too much to take right now.

Tony heard her bend down lower toward him, and the back of her cool hand was eased onto his forehead, and then to the cheek that she could check.

"Well, you've got a fever Tony," she sighed, "Jarvis?"

"Yes Miss Potts?"

"Check Mr. Stark's temperature please," she said, moving to the other end of the couch and taking off her sneakers.

"Mr. Stark currently has a temperature of 102.3 degrees Fahrenheit."

"Thank-you Jarvis."

"You're very welcome Miss Potts," Jarvis replied. She could almost hear the pride in his 'voice.'

"Cut the chit-chat," Tony grumbled into the couch, moving his head just enough to feel some of the coolness of the cushion on his face.

"Do you feel nauseous?" Pepper got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen.

"No."

"Well," she called loudly from the kitchen, "I can't help you Tony unless you tell me what's wrong with you."

Baby steps, he reminded himself. It was something entirely new to confess that he was sick. Now he had to give her the details.

"Head hurts. Muscles hurt. Eyes hurt. My throat is sore. And my nose doesn't want to seem to give me any air!" He complained loudly, feeling that yelling the last part wasn't such a good idea. He re-closed his eyes and sighed.

"Sounds like you've got a cold," Pepper re-entered the living room with a mug in her hand.

"Here, drink this," she instructed.

It was all he could do to push himself up into a sitting position and take the cup.

"What is it?" He asked, and she could hear how congested he was, "Because I can't smell it."

"Tea, Mr. Stark."

He took a big drink, feeling the warmth of it trail down his scratchy throat. It felt really good.

"Why are you calling me that?" He plopped his head on the back of the couch, and looked at her through strained eyes.

"I don't know. Why do you call me Miss Potts?"

"Because you call me Mr. Stark."

She let a very small smile slip onto her lips, watching his eyes close.

The arc reactor was glowing through his black t-shirt, and his blue jeans were dirty from the time he had spent downstairs.

"How long have you been on the couch?"

"What time is it?" he drank the rest of the tea and handed her the mug.

"Jarvis?"

"It is three thirty in the morning Sir."

"Then I've been here for forty minutes."

She sighed, "That's probably why you're sick then."

"Because I spent so long in the garage?" He didn't understand her point.

"No, because you don't sleep enough."

He chuckled weakly at her hypothesis, "Now, used to, I couldn't be in bed past eight without you having a fit."

"I don't have fits," Pepper placed the mug on the coffee table.

"Do too," he laughed, "A lot."

"Maybe I do. But only because you never do what you're supposed to. I can't go to all of the meetings in your place you know."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah Potts. I know." He patted her knee and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to get into a more comfortable position on the stiff couch.

"Alright, go to bed," Pepper commanded.

"Fine," Tony stood up and started walking toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms.

"Goodnight Mr. Stark," she called loudly.

Tony winced, held a hand to his head, turned around and replied through clenched teeth, "Goodnight Miss Potts."

Author's note: Hello wonderful readers! I broke the cursed writer's block! I admit that this is not my best work, but I'd love for you to review. I tried my hardest to keep the characters in character. Easier said than done. It's possible that I might continue this, although I'm not sure where it would go. If you'd like it to go on, give me some pointers. And pretty pretty please, review! :D