'You're Alexandra Stark,' she reminded herself, 'the daughter of the smartest man on Earth. You have an iron super suit, it's only a level below, and you just need to breathe and think and… connive.'

Her father was the best conniver she knew. But he wasn't around; he was almost gone. As New York fell into shambles around her, she couldn't help but wonder, why me?

"JARVIS, what do you think?" Alex rotated the holographic version of the suit, giving it a quick onceover. Even the hologram sparkled, and the glimmer reflected in her eyes.

"Well, it will definitely be one to rival your father's," JARVIS said over the loudspeaker, "I suggested black and silver ages ago, but you know him. Slightly ostentatious."

Alex laughed, looking around her father's lab. "Slightly? Just like he's slightly intelligent, or I'm slightly similar to the man." The laboratory was filled with iron suits similar to hers, but made of shiny red and gold. "Now that that's done… JARVIS, the arc reactor."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Surer than I'll ever been."

"Your father doesn't suggest letting you –,"

"JARVIS, I would mute you but I really do need your help."

There was silence. Alex could practically hear JARVIS's gears turning as he weighed the options. "List me the pros and cons," she said finally, if only to ease him.

"Cons:" his metallic voice rang out, sounding more like Microsoft Sam than the soft spoken JARVIS, "potential death. Blood poisoning. Heart transplant. A dangerous procedure overall, miss."

"And the pros?"

"Pros: enough to power your super suit. If you succeed, your intelligence will rival your father's. And it could keep you stable for at least 50 lifetimes – no worrying about cardiac issues unless it's removed."

"Well, that's enough for me. Begin the operation, JARVIS."

Dummy pushed a chair over to where she was standing, and Butterfingers rolled over a medicine cart. "Dummy, bring out the intravenous. Butterfingers, prepare for open heart surgery. JARVIS, prepare the arc reactor and the epidural, please."

The robots wheeled around the lab at her command, bringing over boxes, carts, needles, whatever she needed.

"Oh, and JARVIS? One last thing."

"Of course, Alexandra."

"Can you make sure Dad can't get in? I know he's in Russia, but better safe than sorry."

"Locking the premises from any outsiders."

"Fantastic. Thank you."

"Anything for you, Miss Stark."

"JARVIS, JARVIS! What's going on? Why is the lab locked?"

"Orders of your daughter, sir."

"You're answering to her now? Why the hell is the lab on lockdown?"

"She's – working on a personal experiment."

"A personal experiment, my ass, JARVIS. What is she doing?"

"Alex wanted a super suit. She built one."

"And?"

"And she needed an arc reactor to power it."

"Damn it, JARVIS! How could she – but…"

"Mr. Stark, would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, JARVIS. And send her up to me when she's done. I'll be in the floor 113 kitchen."

"Of course, sir."

"Alex, your father would like to see you on floor 113. He says it's urgent." Alex tapped the arc reactor on her chest, making sure the Starkium flowed freely in the Mark A. Granted, her father kept extras of his own arc reactor, but those were too large for her thin, female chest.

"Oh Jesus, JARVIS, why'd you have to tell him? Now I'm gonna get reamed out."

"It had to be done, Miss Stark. He'll be thrilled to see you made it through surgery in one piece."

Alex groaned at his response, but made her way to the elevator. "JARVIS, what should I be prepared for?"

"He's not as angry as you're assuming, miss."

"Well what I'm assuming is really bad."

"Then it's much less."

"Thanks, JARVIS."

Alex tried to put as much seething sarcasm into that sentence as possible – even much less than she expected was awful. The elevator dinged. Who knew 100 floors could go by so fast when you're expecting a death sentence? Only Stark Tower, she thought bitterly, walking out and putting on her game face.

"Alexandra Virginia Stark," Tony's calm voice rang out before she even reached the kitchen, "what the hell were you thinking?" He may not be one to yell at his daughter, but God his stoic-sounding voice could slice through bone if it had to.

"I was thinking, Dad, that I could be a little more help than just being your assistant," she bit back, her words tremor-free despite how fast her heart was beating behind the arc reactor. "D'you know what it's like, sitting here, holed up, having JARVIS give me your stats while you're off with your little boy band? I want to be out there, in the action, fighting with you! And I figured the only way you'd let me is if I made a machine to rival yours. JARVIS, can you pull up the Mark A, please?"

Just as she had ordered, the suit appeared in JARVIS's hologram program. Tony stalked over to it, rotating it and examining every detail.

"JARVIS, you bastard, I knew you were hiding something," he muttered, and Alex could see a billion thoughts spurring through his mind at an inhuman rate, "did you dig up my mods? Use the Mark VIII plans? Let me in that lovely little Stark mind of yours, Alexandra."

"Well, first order of business – you know I like being called Alexandra as much as you like being called Anthony. Second – how do I know you won't use this for yourself? This is my brainchild –,"

"– the brainchild I came up with in 2008 –,"

"– and I won't have it end up as another 'Stark Industry play toy'!"

"Baby, come on, sit down," Tony led her into the lavish kitchen and sat her down at the granite table, "you honestly think I'd let the idiots at SI handle your suit? Hell no, if I did, I'd be fucking crazy. No, this is bigger than SI. This is S.H.I.E.L.D. worthy. But it won't be a play toy, honey, don't you worry."

"Do you mean –,"

"Let me pick your brain first, if you don't mind. Now, did Bruce know you were building this?"

"Nope. I couldn't trust anyone with this information except for JARVIS."

"Fantastic. And you found the Starkium fine? Mark A? How is that different from my Mark VIII schematics?"

"The Starkium wasn't hidden. Well, not for JARVIS, anyway. Mark A, meaning Alex. Your Mark VIII designs were very masculine, and heavier than what I can carry. I've also been working myself to the peak of physical perfection – almost – mostly because between the arc reactor and the gold-titanium alloy I'll be carrying around, my body is a little too frail for that. So Mark A is a smaller, more feminine version, using a little less metallic body armor and more, well, padding.

"As for the arc reactor, I had to adjust the size and tweak the position a bit because of, ah, feminine reasons. It also doesn't have the electro-magnet, mostly because I don't have a bit of shrapnel in my chest. It can, however, be adjusted to any medical situation that involves blood vessels or even internal injury. But as for right now, it keeps my vitals steady, works as almost a mood regulator, and can power the suit. Any more questions?"

"Do you want to join me at work today?"

Those were the only words she needed to hear. Alex almost started gasping with excitement when the arc reactor slowed down her heart rate.

"That would be absolutely fantastic. That's exactly what I was aiming for, to be honest."

Tony's face broke out into a wide smile – for a 54 year old man, his smile could still light up a room. "Awesome. Let's go get the Jolly Green Giant and we'll head over. Hey Bruce-y boy!" he called over to the intercom on the wall across from him.

"Yes, Tony?" replied the tinny voice – from the drilling sounds in the background, it sounded like he was in one of the labs.

"We're on our way over to Avengers Tower."

"We're?"

"Alex and I. C'mon."

"Oh. Alright." They heard a clanging sound and the doors slide open. Soon enough, Bruce was on their level – he had been on floor 150, the elemental lab where Tony stored the Starkium. "Is it 'bring your kid to work' day?" he asked, winking at Alex.

"Hardly, Banner. It's 'my kid's on my level of intelligence and I want to show her off' day," Tony laughed, and headed off to the elevator. Bruce and Alex looked at each other, exchanged a grin, and followed.

The ride down to the parking garage was a longer one, filled with Tony's grandiose visions of the unstoppable scientist trio – Bruce, Alex, and himself, fighting crime after S.H.I.E.L.D. disintegrates due to intergalactic scandals.

"I'd like to see this happen," Bruce chuckled into Alex's ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.

"So would I, I mean, let's be honest – intergalactic scandals? He'd cause them himself. I don't think anyone's ever appreciated how many scandals one man can cause in 8 years." Alex whispered back, and the laugh lines on Bruce's face grew as he stifled giggles.

Despite him being the same age as her father, the gamma radiation and "the other guy" slowed down his aging – just as Steve's and Thor's was (even though Steve was a super soldier and Thor was a god).

The elevator dinged – they had reached the ground level garage. Tony stood in the middle of the room, weighing his car options.

"Wait," said Bruce, "you've been solving his problems since you were ten?"

"She showed advancements in language at an early age."

"More like a sense of right and wrong. Unlike my father."

Bruce and Tony laughed, and the latter made his way toward a flashy gold Cadillac. "Well, come on, geeks. We've got a super suit to show off."