Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Avengers, Iron Man, Thor, or whatever. All belongs to Marvel. Any other characters are mine.

The Girl in the Iron Mask

Prologue – A Thief in the Night

"Someone stop her!" one of the security guards shouted. But the woman clad in black and purple – and armor resembling greatly that of a certain superhero – was already flying above the circle of uniformed men who previously surrounded her, the case containing the painting she had just stolen on her back. The museum's security hadn't given up yet, though.

In fact, she was somewhat surprised when they started shooting their guns at her armor, specifically at the rockets that were making her fly. But no matter. They proved to be bulletproof just as she designed them, and she went on flying away from the commotion she knew from the start she would cause.

I can't believe I actually did it! she thought as she sailed through the city. She had to admit, she didn't really think she was going to be able to pull this off. It looked like she did have her dad's smarts she hoped she inherited.

"Miss, I should warn you that the police are right behind you," the A.I. Jarvis suddenly said after a while, in his trademark synthesized voice.

She didn't need his warning however, because she'd heard the sirens down below. She looked back though, and saw that Jarvis was right.

"I got 'em in view," she assured him. She then, however, let out a sigh of frustration at the sight of half a dozen cruisers in hot pursuit of her, all their lights blinking so rapidly you'd think it was the fourth of July.

One of the officers then spoke through a loudspeaker, "This is the NYPD, come down to the ground right now with your hands up!"

Though she tried to hold it in, she let out a slight chuckle at how funny that order sounded. But she didn't allow herself to be humored for long and shifted back to focusing on the mission.

"Miss, I would recommend obeying the order," Jarvis said nervously.

"No way, J," she retorted, "It's now or never!"

She carried on away from the police, intent on evading them. She knew perfectly well why they were chasing her. But in reality, it wasn't as if she was stealing this painting for the heck of it. She realized she had to take it upon discovering a dangerous threat, one Earth hadn't seen in about two decades.

If only they knew, she pitied them. Though, if she was being completely honest with herself, there was kind of another reason as to why she was doing this. She knew she would get the attention of all of New York, but it was the attention of one specific person she was hoping to gain lately. And before long, it came to a head.

"Miss, there is now someone in direct pursuit of you," Jarvis said.

"Who?" she asked.

"I think you should look," he replied.

She sighed again in annoyance, though bit her lip in instinctive nervousness, and looked around again. But once she beheld the person chasing her, her eyes widened in shock until they hurt. She blinked once, then twice, but her eyes were clearly not deceiving her. What she saw was none other than her father's Iron Man armor!

"Who's wearing the armor Jarvis?" she asked nervously.

"Mr. Stark, Miss," Jarvis replied.

Her heart began to beat wildly against her chest. What was her dad doing? He was supposed to be back at the museum. Not only that, but why was he even in the armor? While she did expect security and the police to oppose her, she hadn't exactly prepared herself for something like this. She turned her head back around and tried to concentrate, but he still followed her.

"Hey!" he suddenly shouted, making her wince and look back at him. Her father's voice when raised was pretty much the only one she really feared. "Yeah, you! I don't usually go after art thieves, but tonight I'm willing to make an exception, since you stole my art!"

She bit her lip again as she looked back ahead of her. How was she going to lose him? Though she had the cloaking devices in both her helmet and her armor activated, she knew she had to figure out a way to get him off her trail, and fast.

She soon thought of an idea, but had to find the perfect place to play it out. Her chance came when she saw the next tall building in front of her. She headed for it, stretched her hands out on either side, and landed on the far side of the roof. It wasn't long before she heard her dad land not far behind her.

"Now," he said, "why don't you just hand over the painting – and the armor – and we can all forget this ever happened and go on home?"

She said nothing, only raised her hands in the air as if in surrender and slowly turned around. She didn't dare speak – at least not in her usual voice – for fear that he would immediately recognize her. Nor did she want to start a fight, especially not with her old man.

Her heartbeat increased with every step he took towards her, until she finally put her plan into action. Before her dad came too close to her, she immediately thrust her hands forward, allowing the repulsor rays in her palms to hit their target: just near enough to her dad's iron-clad feet to make him trip and fall. Her heart sank slightly when she saw that his face mask was open, allowing her to see the stunned expression on his face as he hit the floor.

Once it worked, however, she hastily went to the very edge of the building, and briefly looked down at the city below, before turning back around to face her father one more time.

"Good night, Mr. Stark," she said in an older sounding, British-accented voice. She then did a backflip off the roof of the building, and activated the rockets, leaving her dad behind as she flew through the city once more, the case holding the painting still on her back.

"Jarvis," she said once she was sure she was out of his sight, "are the cloaking devices still active?"

"Yes, Miss," he replied.

She gave a slight smile knowing that her signal was remaining hidden as planned. But it wasn't long before that smile sank back into a frown at what she had just did, not just at the museum, but to her father as well. I'm sorry Dad, she thought grimly, I had to do this…

Even so, she quickly decided to put it out of her mind so she could get back to focusing on the rest of her mission: getting back home to stash away the painting, and the armor that she wore, allowing her to go back to being the person she really was – Jasmine Stark, the sixteen-year-old heiress to Stark Industries.

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