Author's Note: So this story was published about two years ago, and at the moment it's going through an editing process. So just bear with me if anything seems inconsistent. Thank you! :)
"Ladies and Gentleman, it is my honour to present this year's Apogee Award to Mr. Tony Stark," Colonel James Rhodes announced to the dimmed room. The crowd applauded and looked towards the table where Gemma Stark, her father's business partner, Obadiah Stane, and a few other members of Stark Industries were seated. Tony wasn't with them, much to her dismay, but Gemma had a glimmer of hope that perhaps he would rush in suddenly stride up to the podium. She gazed around the room, but her father was nowhere to be seen. Fury started to well up inside of her, but she remained calm and collected.
He'd promised her earlier that day that he would be here this time, unlike all the other occasions when he'd done the same thing.
"You have to attend the ceremony tonight," she had told Tony that morning. "And I will," he replied, walking towards her from the large island in the kitchen. She narrowed her eyes. "I mean it. You can't go off and gamble or drink or whatever."
"What makes you think that I will?" Tony pretended to be surprised. "Because you're you," Gemma retorted, making Tony laugh. "I will come, honey, I promise."
"Really?" she raised her eyebrow. "Yes," he said, looking her eyes. He pulled her in for a quick hug and kissed the top of her head.
She had no clue why she got her hopes up. He would never change.
"Tony?" Rhodey asked the room again, snapping Gemma from her thoughts. An awkward silence filled the room, making her cheeks hot. His eyes met hers, and she gave him an apologetic smile. She sighed, smoothed down her sparkly turquoise dress and walked up the small stage to the podium. I should be the one running this company, she thought bitterly, even though she had no intention to. Business was her father's thing (though he was doing a miserable job at the moment). Engineering was her's, though she still didn't what she would do when she went to college.
"Thank you," she told the colonel, and accepted the award. It wasn't as heavy as she'd thought. The design was simple crystal and reflected the light from the room, causing it to shine. The award looked more like a piece of art, and bared her father's name on the small gold plaque at the bottom. Anthony Stark.
Rhodey left the stage, leaving Gemma by herself, having to accept the award on her father's behalf. "Thank you," the fifteen-year old said into the microphone. "This is really wonderful," she looked at the award then turned her gaze to the crowded room. "Good evening, as you can see, I'm not my father." There was a light chuckle among the crowd. "He really wanted to be here, but the best thing about him is also worst thing. He is always working. I know that my father is deeply honored to receive this beautiful award. Thank you to you all." There was another round of applause, and Gemma left the stage with the award gripped tightly in her hand. What would he do without me?
She joined Obadiah and Rhodey back at their table in the middle of the room. "You did great," Obadiah said as she sat down. Rhodey flashed an encouraging smile. Gemma had known Obadiah ever since she was little, but was never especially close to him. He had taken over the company when her grandparents died, whom she'd never known. Soon after Tony turned twenty-one, he became CEO and Obadiah was bumped down. The two still remained close of course, and when Gemma was born she'd see him on occasion, when he came over to the mansion or at business parties. But usually, he was tucked away in his office, working on something or another. It didn't give them a lot of time to have lengthy conversations.
Coming out of her thoughts when a waiter refilled her glass with water, Gemma smiled back at Obadiah and thanked the waiter. She set the award down on the table, and leaned back on the plush chair, furious at her father. "Where could he be?" she muttered. Rhodey leaned over towards her. "I think I might know."
Two hours later, after the ceremony ended, Gemma and Rhodey stormed into a luxurious casino. This was more important that accepting an award? Gemma though, eyes narrowing. Crystal chandeliers were hanging from every corner, reflecting the light and making her squint. The brightly-lit place was crowed, people surrounded the noisy slot machines and played poker and roulette. Scantily-clad waitresses covered in sparkles and feathers passed through the crowds offering drinks.
In the middle, about three dozen people were crowded around a large craps table. "Work it, work it!" She heard Tony's voice in the middle of the crowd. She rolled her eyes and pushed her way through the mass of people until she and Rhodey were on either side of him. A few people gave her weird looks. Who let an underage girl into a casino, they must've been thinking, but she ignored them, and they quickly turned their attention back to the craps game.
"Oh, hey guys," Tony said nonchalantly, not even looking up from the game. "You are unbelievable!" she cried, though she didn't know if he'd heard her or not with all the noisy cheering of the people around them. "Tony," Rhodey spoke, a harsh tone in his voice. "I was told that if I presented you with an award you'd be deeply honored."
"And I am deeply honored. When do we do it?"
"It's right here." Rhodey pointed to the award in Gemma's hands. Tony looked up from the craps game to her with a slightly confused look, which turned into a giant smirk only seconds later. Gemma ignored his expression and shoved the award at his chest. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?" He grinned at her and then looked at the award. "Wow, would you look at that? Don't have any of those at home." He had a mix of both sarcasm and boredom when he spoke. Tony set it down on the edge of the table and turned back to the game. Gemma rolled her eyes and groaned as she picked up the award before someone drunkenly knocked it over.
Just as he was about to roll, Tony held the dice up to Rhodey's face. "Give me a hand would you?" He asked. "I don't blow on a man's dice," he said sternly. Gemma laughed at Rhodey's response, and then Tony turned to her. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms in front of her, one hand still clutching the award. "Come on honey!" He practically begged. She gave into her father, mostly because she just wanted to go home, and knew that if she refused it would only make the game go slower. She blew on the dice, giving him a glare and lightly knocked the dice out of his hands. Tony smirked and shifted his gaze to the dice. "And Gemma Stark rolls it and..." The dice slowed down on the table as everyone held their breath, but were disappointed at the outcome. "Two craps. Line away."
"Worse things have happened," Rhodey told him as they left the table and finally exited the busy casino. The three walked through the glittering lobby of the building. Even at this time of night, there were a few people walking through the lobby. Most stopped to gaze out the giant revolving doors at flashing lights. Gemma followed their gaze and could see flocks of reporters and paparazzi outside waiting for them. Great, just what I need right now. She could feel the beginnings of a headache, and between the busy casino and flashing camera lights, it wasn't getting any better.
"Tomorrow, don't be late," Rhodey said as he was exiting the other direction, towards the parking garage. He was referring to the weapons demonstration for a new missile taking place in Afghanistan. It was called the Jericho, which Tony had spent the last year designing with her help. And it was finally ready. Gemma wanted to go with him, as she wanted to see the results of their work, but Tony refuse to let her come, telling her it was too dangerous because he was going to a war zone, which (and she didn't want to admit it) made her a little nervous. At least Rhodey would be there with him, and would keep him from getting into too much trouble. He was like a second father to Gemma, and she trusted him with her life.
"You can count on it," Tony replied. Rhodey glared at him. "I'm serious!"
"Yeah, yeah, okay," he waved him off. Gemma wanted to hit her father over the head with the award for his lack of appearance at the ceremony, but the award remained in her hand. She didn't want an audience and this wasn't exactly private. It would be humiliating if that story were in the tabloids, for both of them.
When they exited the bright building, she was hit with equally bright flashes of light, and paparazzi and reporters yelling, "Mr. Stark! Miss Stark!" She pushed her way through them, but halted abruptly when her father stopped at one reporter, a thin blond woman wearing very nice clothes and expensive-looking jewelry. The woman looked like she was in her mid-twenties and didn't look at all surprised when Tony stopped in front of her. "Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair Magazine. Can I ask you a couple of questions?" She spoke with a soft voice. Tony turned to Gemma. "She's cute," he said, and she just rolled her eyes. "Just get it over with," she mumbled. He turned back to Christine. "Sure, fire away."
"You've been called the Da Vinci of our time. What do you say to that?"
"Ridiculous, I don't paint." Gemma chuckled. He wasn't wrong. He may be good at drawing up schematics, but he couldn't paint for his life. When she was little, one of her favourite things to do was finger paint. Tony would join in with her but would struggle to even paint a tree. "And what do you say about your other nickname? 'The Merchant of Death,'" was Christine's next question. "That's not bad," he replied. "Let me guess. Berkeley?"
"Brown, actually," she corrected him. They drawled on into flirty conversation. She wasn't really listening, until he mentioned her grandfather, Howard. Her father rarely talked about him, and hated talking about him. So it was odd why he delved into a conversation about him, especially with some reporter who he'd just met.
Gemma never knew him; he and her grandmother, Maria, had died before she was born. Tony did sometimes talk about how much he influenced World War Two, but mostly in public. He never talked about his and Howard's private life, and least of all their relationship.
Their conversation seemed like it was going on forever, and Gemma just wanted to go home and sleep. She couldn't stand to be surrounded by the media any longer. She signaled to her father that she was leaving with his body guard, Happy. Tony could drive himself home, he usually did anyway. He wasn't one for sitting in the passenger's seat. And by the looks of it, Christine Everhart might be joining him. She didn't know if he'd seen or not, but nevertheless she traveled through the reporters and made her way to her father's car.
Happy opened the passenger door for her, and she managed a quiet "thank you". She put the award in the back seat, almost throwing it there. "Dad's going to get another ride," she said.
"He didn't show up, then?" Happy asked as he started the car. Gemma shook her head. "Apparently gambling was more important." The car pulled away from the hotel and finally there wasn't a sea of people surrounding her. "And what's worse is that he promised. He promised he would be at the ceremony tonight. But of course he had something more important to do." She pushed her hair back and let out a long sigh. "Does he even care anything?"
"Tony cares very much, he just has an odd way of showing it," Happy said. Gemma scoffed. "You're telling me." She closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind from the day's events. It was completely quiet, safe for the relaxing humming of cars, for the rest of the trip back to Malibu.