Disclaimer: I will say this once and only once. Marvel is not mine and neither are any of it's characters/plots/etc.

She waited as she always did; in the living area, on the couch, the television turned to some cartoon show with the volume just barely loud enough to hear. In her hands was a 3x3 Rubik's cube, mostly solved but not done yet. Next to her feet which were crossed at the ankles and propped up on the coffee table sat a cluster of varying Rubik's cubes. There was one shaped like a pyramid, one with irregularly shaped blocks, a sphere, a regular 3x3 cube but with numbers instead of colours, and a 5x5 cube. She'd already solved each puzzle twice and was growing bored.

Checking the clock on her phone and sighing when she saw that it was almost midnight, she felt frustration bubbling within her. It wasn't that she normally went to bed early, but it had been 51 hours and 49 minutes since she last slept and could feel her eye-lids growing heavier by the second. Coffee no longer had any effect on her after the copious amount she'd consumed to stay awake to this point. Her fingers stopped playing with the cube, her hands and the toy falling motionless in her lap.

She tiredly turned her head to look out the window and found that it was snowing. There was just over a week until Christmas and New York City looked the part. Colourful lights were strung up inside and outside buildings, holiday decorations everywhere you looked. The radio stations played carols and the usual seasonal songs of December. Santa Claus was at the malls, listening to the Christmas wishes of the children who sat on his lap, eagerly telling him about something that would make their Christmas special.

At the moment, all Elia Quint wanted was for her damned father to come home so that she could finally trudge to her room and sleep. She could have very well just gone to bed then and get some sleep while she could, but when her father finally did return he would no doubt go into her room and wake her, tell her 'hello' and perhaps even try to catch up then and there. No, it was better to just wait it out and then make a hasty escape to her sanctuary.

Elia wasn't on particularly good terms with her father, on her part at least. He'd been absent most of her life and with her mother dead and gone only hours after her birth, she'd grown up bouncing between foster parents and boarding schools. After her last foster father was no longer able to take care of her, her actual father stepped in and took her back as his own. Except she had school in another state and so she still wasn't around him much. Not that she minded. Her entire life Elia grew to hate her father even if she didn't know him too well. They agreed that she would spend her vacations at his home, as he insisted upon. Elia would have been perfectly happy rooming with her best friend, Anna, and enjoying her vacations with her family. Anna's family had grown into her own over the years, the other girl's parents' sometimes forgetting that they only had one daughter.

But Elia's father was a stubborn man and did nothing short of demand that she at least spent the holidays with him. So it as that Elia would do her best to remain in her room all of winter break, waiting impatiently for her supposed vacation to end.

She let out a loud sigh and slumped to her right, her head falling onto the cushioned arm rest of the couch. Elia couldn't wait to go back to school.

~H~

The Avengers returned to Stark Tower exhausted but holding together better than they usually did. The worst injuries were mere scrapes and bruises and everyone actually seemed to be in a decent mood. Steve was completely fine, the small cuts he'd gotten had already healed –thanks to the serum – and was slowly learning to ignore Tony's jabs, even managing his own witty retort now and then. Bruce was probably the happiest of them all. He didn't have to become the Other Guy on this mission, and for that he was ever thankful. Clint and Natasha seemed the same, retaining their cool agent exteriors, but a smile could be seen now and then at Steve and Tony's banter. Thor hadn't been with them what with him being in Asgard, a world away and not worth the commute for the fairly simple mission they sorted out. In actuality the mission had been a bit rougher and more difficult than usual, but they had succeeded and even managed to save a couple lives, and so they were feeling pretty good.

Tony however, was slightly edgy. He didn't have any injuries; a couple of bruises after a hard knock or two were all that he had. He was having some fun teasing Cap again, but there was something he was forgetting. Something very important. He mentally went over a list of his friends' birthdays but came up with nothing. He went through a to-do list on his phone, and while most of the items were unchecked, none of them rang the bell that told him what he was missing.

"Who votes Tony makes us some hot chocolate?" Clint said and raised his hand. Three other hands went up as well. It was two in the morning, though none of them felt it. They were all jet lagged from their mission and felt as if it were two in the afternoon.

"What? Why me? We all know Cap makes the best hot cocoa. I burn water."

"Yeah, but you 'updated' the kitchen and none of us know how to get around in it now, least of all Steve. No offense," Bruce argued. It was true, Tony liked to set up new technologies around the tower, and often the prototypes were just a bit less than user friendly. Natasha had nearly blown up the kitchen when she tried to microwave some popcorn.

"Fine, but only because I don't hate you all at the moment," he huffed and the rest of the team went to settle themselves in the living room where they would probably turn the TV to some news channel. Steve would pull out his sketch book and draw something, Banner would undoubtedly be reading, and the assassins would throw darts at a picture of Tony's face. The Avengers had formed something of a family with each other; an odd dysfunctional family of misfits but a family no less. They still butted heads frequently and sometimes practically ripped each other apart, yet they held together.

As he rummaged through cupboards, looking for the can of hot chocolate mix and mugs, Tony continued to pillage his brain for the thing he was forgetting. It wasn't a birthday and it wasn't something he had to do. He didn't owe his team members any debts, or anyone else for that matter. There weren't any business meetings or appointments on his schedule and Pepper was in Seattle so he wasn't forgetting a date with her.

He poured heated milk into five mugs with the cocoa powder at the bottom. Christmas was in a week and he would have to start thinking of presents sometime soon. And then it hit him.

"Christmas holidays," he murmured under his breath.

He heard a loud noise from the living room and rushed to find out what happened.

"JARVIS, what's going on in there?" he asked the AI after hearing something that sounded suspiciously like a gun shot.

"It seems the others have found Miss Quint in the living room, Sir."

~H~

Steve and Bruce were holding back the two SHIELD agents who had drawn their weapons when he sauntered in. They all had changed into their regular clothes, but the assassins liked to carry at least one weapon on them at all times. Each Avenger stood tense, looking at the supposed enemy warily. Clint and Natasha were ready to shoot the intruder, however Steve and Bruce were against it, even if they didn't trust the intruder either. They faced the couch and looked up when Tony entered.

Tony stepped closer so he could see the trespasser's face, though he already knew who it was, and he smiled.

"You know, I'd be perfectly happy to not spend my holiday here. If you don't want me coming anymore you could just say, no need to have your friends shoot at me." Her voice hinted at boredom and her expression made it clear that she was irritated.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell them you would be coming. Back off, people." He motioned for them to step back and put away their weapons. They did so somewhat reluctantly.

"You know her, Tony?" Steve asked after a pause.

"Yeah, she's–"

"Pepper's goddaughter," the girl cut in. She stood up and moved away from the couch. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her and her figure had become more womanly. But she was still mostly the same. Again she wore her usual navy blue tuque and had the same sarcastic humor as always. His daughter was just as he remembered her. "When will she be back?"

"In three days or so," Tony replied. She nodded sleepily and started toward the elevator.

"Well, you've seen me, Sir. I'm going to bed. Don't even think of waking me up tomorrow."

And then she was gone.

"Explain," Natasha said flatly as they each found somewhere to sit. She didn't like surprises, especially ones that involved finding a sleeping teenage girl on the couch in what was supposed to be the high security home she was living in. The only people allowed on the top fifteen floors of Stark Tower were the Avengers, Pepper, and a very short list of people who weren't exactly regular civilians.

"Well, as she said, she's Pepper's goddaughter. She comes to the tower or wherever me and Pepper are for the holidays and spends her vacation with us."

"Her parents?" Clint asked from his spot in a recliner. Tony's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to read the message.

"Her mother died when she was a baby and I'm h…" he let the sentence trail, having just read the text.

Tell them I'm your kid and I will make you regret it

– EQ

"Her dad's been gone for a while. Oh, and her name is–"

"Elia Quint, she told us after bullet number two," Bruce supplied.

Elia Stark, Tony wanted to say. Instead he joked, "Next time ask for permission before you shoot at my guests, alright?"

~H~

She opened her duffle bag and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tank top. She didn't bother to unpack the rest of her clothes – that could wait until after she obtained 24 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Elia crawled into the soft bed and brought the covers up to her shoulders. She slid her arm out of her cocoon and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

"Messages from the only three people who I consider friends," she mumbled and tapped the icon to view the texts. She read each with half-lidded eyes.

Is hedgehog urine flammable? Of course Anna would ask her something like that.

Play nice, he's trying. See you soon. It wouldn't exactly be soon, but that's what Skype was for wasn't it? Her former foster father was always doing his best to keep her in line, even if he wasn't responsible for her anymore.

I broke the microwave. Need your help to fix it before mum and dad get back on Monday. Elia wondered if the broken microwave had anything to do with the hedgehog urine. Justin and Anna's problems always seemed intertwined with one another. That probably had something to do with them being siblings and living under the same roof.

Elia didn't reply to the messages – she could do that later. For now she would just sleep. But then a thought struck her muddled mind and she reached for her phone again. She kept the message short and hoped with all she had that Tony did as she said. She wasn't quite sure how she would make good on her threat if he didn't, but she was certain she could figure out something horrendous if the time came.

~H~

Steve thought back to the girl, Elia. He was surprised to say the least when they went to the living room with the intention of unwinding from a mission and waiting out the jet lag, only to find what looked like a sixteen year old girl fast asleep on the couch. Clint and Natasha, with their untrusting instincts of course immediately had their guards up. Steve decided that waking up to a bullet landing two inches to the left of your head wasn't the most pleasant thing.

To her credit, she didn't scream or faint. In the first few moments after her waking Steve saw confusion, apprehension, alarm, and wariness flitter across her face. Then they were gone and replaced with a calm expression. Not once was there even the slightest a trace of fear. It seemed that they all noticed this, and so when she pushed herself up into an upright position, they tensed and Clint shot another warning round at her, this one making a small rip in the sleeve of her black cardigan, then said, "Don't move."

She put up her hands in surrender and remained seated.

"Who are you?" Bruce asked more kindly than the others probably could have managed at that moment. The four of them were still running on a bit of adrenaline from the mission and were more than a little jumpy, especially the assassins.

"Elia Quint, Mr. Tony Stark's guest," she replied evenly.

"At two in the morning?" Natasha questioned, her voice dripping with suspicion.

"I've been here for five hours, and it seems I'm going to have to pardon Stark's tardiness seeing as he was probably saving the world or something." Her tone was neutral, but Steve noted the slightest drop of contempt.

"What sort of 'guest' are you," Clint asked, lowering his gun slightly, an odd expression on his face.

"Not that kind of guest… ew. And I don't think Stark likes his girls this young." Steve felt himself blush realizing what Clint had been implying.

"So, we've got the archer, the super-soldier, master assassin, and the giant green rage monster who actually looks pretty calm and not at all has huge or green as the videos show. I suppose the metal man is somewhere in this tower, which leaves hammer-man. Where'd he run off to?"

"Why do you know who we are?" The Avengers hadn't made their identities public and nor where they were living.

"Elementary, my dear Legolas," she replied unknowingly echoing Tony's nickname. "These two," she nodded to Natasha and Clint, "Are pretty easy to identify, what with she being a girl and him still wearing his finger tab. Four-eyes doesn't exactly look the part of a former military man, but blondie is practically screaming all-American hero." And then Tony had come in, probably hearing all the noise they'd made.

Though Steve was sure he had never met the girl before, he thought she seemed somewhat familiar. He didn't think too much about it, probably just a coincidence. What Steve couldn't get out of his head however, was the look of calm and unconcern she maintained after being shot at twice. Surely a teenager would be at least slightly panicked with four strangers looking down at her, two of which were pointing weapons at her. She was an odd girl, he concluded, even if he'd only met her for fifteen minutes at most.