And then we were two (Tony stark's daughter fic)

Hot Blooded

Tony couldn't sleep. It had been three weeks since the attack in New York and he was more than happy to keep busy with the renovations to the tower. Anything was better than trying to sleep.

At some point he'd gone for more coffee and nearly brained himself when he'd stumbled into the kitchen to find Natasha sitting at the counter with a mug of what, he'd suspected was tea but his brain hadn't wanted to accept such mundane behavior from the spy. Clint had waved the spatula he'd been flipping pancakes with at him over his shoulder and continued cooking as if the whole insane picture was entirely normal. "Kid like pancakes?"

Tony'd mumbled he didn't really know and hurriedly poured his coffee, escaping back toward his, partially renovated, workshop. Addy had glanced up, accepted the can of soda he offered, and gone back to her sketchbook.

The wrench in his hand slipped, sudden visions of holes in space and falling, always falling, making his hands shake and jerking him back to the present. Damn confusing spies distracting him!

"Daddy?" Addy muttered from behind him, the soft green blanket they'd purchased a week before trailing behind her like a hooded cloak.

"Hey babe, shouldn't you be asleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and glancing around blearily. Several coffee mugs lay scattered around his work space and he momentarily wondered how long he'd been awake.

Addy swayed slightly on her feet, the motion dragging his attention back toward his daughter. "Don't feel so good," she croaked.

Tony frowned and straightened, joints cracking as he moved toward Addy. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy, it was clear she'd feel feverish even before he placed his hand against her forehead.

He hissed quietly and swooped her, blankets and all, up into his arms. The fact that she didn't protest, merely sagging against him and letting out a tiny, painful sounding, cough as worrisome as the noticeable heat rolling off her. "Really caught a good one huh kiddo," he sighed and carried her toward the new sofa that'd been installed earlier in the week.

Addy whined slightly, "don't leave," she whimpered her voice croaky and weak. The girl sounded more her age than he thought she ever had.

"Not going anywhere munchkin," Tony soothed, manually unwinding her fists from where she was clinging to his shirt. "Look, you gotta let go so I can find you some meds or something ok? I'll be right back."

"Promise?" She whimpered, tearing up.

"Promise, course baby," he nodded and stepped away.

Tony rifled through the rather sparsely stocked medicine cabinet and swore. Advil, Pepper's midol, sleeping pills, and about two and a half first aid kits. Nothing safe for a seven year old. Nothing to cut through a fever or soothe a sore throat. He groaned and dropped his head against the cabinet. What would Jarvis have done for him as a kid? He vaguely remembered tea. "Jar, is tea good for a sore throat?"

"Many people swear by tea with lemon and honey sir. would you like me to find recommended doses?"

"We even have that crap?" He mumbled and began rifling through the kitchen. Any other moment he wouldn't have dared touch what he'd come to see as Natasha's tea but she seemed to like Addy. "Jar, find me a pharmacy that delivers would you pal. Need kid stuff, how do I not even have a Tylenol for her?!"

"Right away sir," the A.I. responded.

Tony hadn't really thought about the original Jarvis in a while, in fact he actively avoided thinking about anything connected to his childhood. Still, he smiled slightly remembering how much he always wished he could just stay sick. Keep Jarvis all to himself and avoid his father.