Hello, Avengers readers. I'm BeTheChangeYouSee, or just Change. For the past week or so, I've been working on a new story based on the Avengers movie, and this is it. It features Tony/Steve, and their family, but mostly focuses on their daughter, Charlie Parker. If you want to see more of this stuff, PM me, or watch my Tumblr blog ( racejackson updates. tumblr. com - minus the spaces) for more details. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I, in no way, own Marvel.

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE, Charlie Parker was hiding from her dads and being sneaky.

The sneaky part, in itself, was totally unheard of. If there was one thing that her Pops had taught her, it was that facing things head on was usually best for all involved (this, of course, was meant for when there was an emotional problem that included the family, and was not advisable when, say, dealing with evil super-villains). She typically followed Pops' example; that was mostly due to Peter, her older brother, who had gotten bitten by a radioactive spider a few months back because he didn't listen to Pops' warnings to leave Dad's lab immediately.

In Dad's defence, he wouldn't have let the spiders out if he knew Peter was there.

And if the sneaky part was unheard of, then the 'hiding from her dads' part was something of an anomaly as well. Hiding was Peter's gig, not hers, for Thor's sake! Charlotte Ann Stark-Rogers didn't hide, and never from two of her most favourite people in the whole entire universe.

Yet, there she was, without permission, in her school's gym (which she, Módi Foster – more commonly known by his middle name, William, and, by extension, the nickname Will – and Sammy Maxwell had broken into), running laps at the speed of light while Sammy stitched a superhero costume together and Will timed her. She was only present at her current location because she knew that her dads wouldn't agree to her getting into the Other Family Business – which was not to be confused with the Family Business, which Dad would probably approve of her getting into and Pops would protest just as much (albeit, without as much enthusiasm).

Wait – is the speed of light comment confusing? Yeah … Charlie can – sort of – explain that one…

~SNEAKY~

You see, Charlie was a runner.

It was pretty unexpected to her family. Just look at her examples.

Firstly, there's Tony Stark (aka, Dad), who owns a green energy company and flies around in a super-suit that he built himself. He is the basic definition of 'genius'. Seriously, if you checked out the dictionary, you'd see a picture of Tony Stark next to the word. And, not to mention, Charlie was like his little evil apprentice. It was fully expected that she follow in his metal footsteps and become a genius, like him (despite the fact that she wasn't biologically his).

And then there's the guy who is her biological father, who she calls Pops (but is really named Steve Rogers). He grew up being really bad at sports, apparently; at least, that was according to Dad, who wasn't all too reliable at telling things like it is. But still, that hate for sports (and, more importantly, coordination) was slightly ingrained in Pops' DNA – pretty much proven by the way he preferred to throw around weights rather than take Peter out for football or something. So it was obvious she didn't get her running talent there.

The last possible example that was close to home was her older brother, Peter. If you had ever met Peter, you'd understand why she called him a short-arse dweeb. Honestly, he'd not gotten his height from Tony (his biological father), nor his and Charlie's mother, Ebony Parker, who were both reasonably tall. He was most definitely not the sporty, running type, having taken more after Pops than was healthy. At least, when Charlie had gotten into running, he was like this. Of course, that was before he'd gotten bitten by a radioactive spider that gifted him with the power of being able to shoot webs from his wrists and climb buildings like a pro.

But even though she was really smart like Dad and sort of lazy like Pops (again, this was according to Dad) and loved to read and all those things, ultimately, she was a better runner than anything.

To keep her running mania satisfied, she was often found on the treadmill at Avenger Tower's totally decked out gym after school, and in Central Park on weekends, following her favourite path. It was in the park that Charlie's life changed completely and she realised that she was a better runner than she originally thought.

On that Saturday morning, Charlie had woken up before everyone else, gathered together a bag of necessities (a muesli bar, water bottle, etc.), left a message with JARVIS and gone for her usual morning run. The Stark-Rogers household was located pretty close to the park, so Charlie counted the walking required to get her there as her warm up. She'd remembered her iPod and SPhone this time, so, as she set up for her run with some stretches and plugged her ear buds in, she went over the last week in her head.

There had been a semi-disturbing scare with Spiderman (aka Peter) when the stupid idiot had gotten himself shot. Okay, maybe the 'semi' was unnecessary; it was plain old scary. Pops had nearly had an aneurysm when he'd found out – and with that Super-Soldier shit in his system, that was kind of hard to do. Not that Dad hadn't completely spazzed out, but he was more private when he tore the legs off his genetically enhanced spiders and burnt them in his lab.

Now, that was disturbing at 3 a.m. on Wednesday morning.

But anyway, it had been a rough week. Charlie's emotions were at an all-time high, and she felt mentally frazzled. She figured that she just needed to go for a run to work out the frazzleness from her system.

Hence, running at 5:30 in the morning.

A vaguely old song came onto her iPod – she was pretty sure that it was called We Are Young and sung by Fun. Charlie smiled; she was amused that Dad (who programmed her iPod) had remembered their little sing-off a while back, when they'd both sung a duet to it. Then again, no matter how drunk he was, he always remembered karaoke night.

Humming along, Charlie started to jog, eyes closed. It didn't matter whether her eyes were open or not; she knew the path off by heart anyway. But, maybe, if she had opened her eyes to savour her surroundings, she might've noted that said surroundings were sort of … blurred.

As it was, she finished her lap pretty quickly. So quickly, in fact, that not even a second had passed since she started. She wouldn't have noticed …

… if she didn't have her iPod on.

Of course, the lack of time passing was expressed by the iPod. Nate Reuss had barely even finished the second line – and he'd only been starting said line when Charlie started to run. This anomaly, unlike others, did not go unnoticed by Charlie, who promptly threw a Stark-worthy fit.

"What the fucking hell?" she exclaimed, half screaming. She made an immediate mad dash into her pocket, drawing out the offending piece of technology as quickly as she could. She checked its still-bright screen, her eyes widening and her mouth emitting a yelp. It was almost dropped. "What the fucking hell?" she repeated.

Her bright, baby-blue eyes were the size of dinner plates as she observed her iPod, holding it gingerly. When the screen blanked, Charlie squeaked in surprise, and she shook it, half expecting to that little noise to happen before she remembered that she had locked the iPod.

What could've happened? She knew, almost for sure, that there was no way humanly possible for her to have run that quickly. And if speed wasn't the confusing factor, maybe it was her iPod? But wait – no, that was impossible too. After all, she'd only gotten it last week; it was extremely unlikely for it to be spazzing out already. Unless…

"Dad," she hissed, feeling extremely annoyed. Of course, that would make sense: having not even been bothered to see her off this morning (despite probably being awake), he was most likely to hack into one of her electrical appliances to freak her out. It was just so Dad.

She got out her SPhone, turning it on and ordering immediately, "Call Dad."

"Calling 'Dad'," droned the phone.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she sighed.

The ringtone dialled twice, before the groggy voice of Tony Stark answered with, "Hello."

"What the hell, Dad? Can you stop bloody joking around for like, I dunno, five minutes?" she ranted. "Does my mental health mean nothing to you? Or did you think I would laugh? Because I am not laughing, you dingbat! Don't mess with my iPod!"

"Dingba– Ok, who is this?" he demanded. "Is this a prank call? Because I can tell you now, my husband happens to be a genetically enhanced human being, and he will not hesitate to kick your ass!"

"You do that, and I will sue you," Charlie growled, "because this is your severely distressed daughter who wants you to stop messing with her iPod."

"Charlie? What the fuck are you calling us before six for?" yelled (albeit wearily) Dad. Despite her anger towards him, she couldn't help but giggle inwardly for a second. None of the kids in her school had parents that swore regularly in front of said children. Then again, none of the kids in her school had same sex parents. "Are you dying or something? 'Coz I'm pretty sure that we only gave you the bloody phone on the slight chance you'd be attacked, raped and left to die."

"Nice to hear," retorted Charlie sarcastically. "No, this time I'm fucking calling, Dad, because you have a slight tendency to hack into my shit to freak me out!"

"Charlotte?" said another sleepy voice. Charlie flinched slightly. That would be Pops, and with his track record when it came to language, it was best if she didn't use her more illustrious words when he was conscious and within hearing distance. "Is that you, Sweetie?"

"Uh – yeah, Pops, it's me," she said, now rubbing the back of her neck, and realising that that action would be exactly what Pops himself would do. Ironic. "Hey, you don't happen to know whether Dad has been playing away with his phone or something, do you?"

"Actually, he hasn't," replied Pops, sounding somewhat incredulous, as if he'd only just realised that fact himself. "I've been up before him, and he hasn't even touched a piece of technology once. It's quite astounding, to be honest."

Charlie snorted. "Seriously? No technology? So he hasn't been hacking into my iPod?"

"Hey!"

"No, I don't believe he has been," answered Pops, ignoring Dad's protest. "Is something wrong, sweetie?"

That's when it hit her. Her iPod hadn't been hacked by Dad (and it couldn't possibly be anyone but Dad). That meant that the independent variable in this equation as her speed. But that was…

… totally not impossible. Of course it wasn't! Her father is Captain freaking America! You know, the guy who was genetically modified into a super soldier. Genetically, as in, meshed into his DNA which passed onto her.

Because her Dad is also Tony Stark and her uncle is Dr Bruce Banner, Charlie knows that she has to test he hypothesis until there is no other possible explanation. With a quick apology muttered in the phone, she hung up, and began to test her hypothesis.

Ten minutes later, and Charlie had completed a run to Washington D.C. and back. Feeling adrenaline still kicking through her veins, she grinned an exhilarated grin and flipped open her phone to call her closest confidante.

He answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Will," she said, twirling a curl of her blonde hair around her index finger. "It's me, Charlie. You know how I like to run?"

"Yeah?"

"It just got a whole lot more fun."

~SNEAKY~

That was how Charlie Parker became a superhero. Or heroine – whatever it was.

And as a superhero – heroine, whatever – she needed some outside help to get organised and ready to do what her parents were famous for (well, one of them, at least, because she was pretty sure her Dad was famous before he turned superhero). Those people were, undoubtedly, her best and closest friends.

Her best and closest friends were, of course, the Foster twins, Módi and Magni, and Sammy Maxwell.

Magni (better known as Fred, which came from his middle name Friedrich) had decided to be on lookout tonight, just watching the TV and notifying them if something happened that needed heroics of some description. He was also able to give excuses to their parents if they realised their kids were gone. Being the extremely smart person he was, he'd hacked into the Stark Industries database and downloaded a program that would allow Módi to relay battle information to Charlie.

Módi, or Will, depending on whether you were his parents or his friends, had decided to be her very own personal trainer/J.A.R.V.I.S. In fact, he was very taken with this idea. He had, of course, inherited his father's tendency to fight rather than his mother's tendency to think, and, as such, was good at pushing Charlie to work harder. Already, he had gotten her to improve her time by about twenty per cent.

Sammy was … indescribable. He was there for miscellaneous things, like sewing together her suit or, like Fred, keeping the secret from her parents and various adopted aunts and uncles. He was her rock during all these crazy things, the only one of her group that was fully and completely normal by human standards. She just needed a little bit of that human assurance while she dealt with this, and Sammy was perfect at giving it.

It was Sammy that broke the almost silent practice that she and Will were engaging in. He asked, somewhat quietly, but loud enough for the enhanced human and the part god to hear, "So, what exactly are you gonna be doing during these heroine gigs?"

She shrugged, and said softly, "I dunno, save babies from burning buildings? There isn't much crime in New York since the Avengers turned up. It's mostly the really bad guys now…" She let her sentence trail off, allowing the others to connect the dots.

"You do know how dangerous this is, right?" questioned Sammy, looking somewhat apprehensive. "You know the risks of going up against some of these people, right?"

"Sam…"

"Sammy is right," said Will, his deep baritone voice sending shivers down Charlie's spine. "This is extremely dangerous. If something goes wrong, we may not be able to deploy anything to save your life in time."

"Will, you know me," Charlie said, grinning. "I'm Charlie Parker. I won't need something to save my life, I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. Besides–" she gave him a sly glance "–you're supposed to be my eyes and ears. If anything goes wrong, I'm blaming it on you."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Charlotte?" he asked, now losing his calm façade, and looking somewhat anxious.

"Do you doubt your own skills that much?" she said sarcastically. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

Will and Sammy exchanged looks. It was pretty much easy to tell what they were thinking about – it was obvious they that thought she was crazy. But despite this, Will shrugged his shoulders, and inclined his head for Sammy to give Charlie her uniform.

Once it was in her possession, there was blur and then she was handing over her normal clothes, folded, to Sammy. The mask that she was going to use was in her hands, which were covered in the silver, skin tight fabric. She examined it critically, taking in the in-built communications device that she assumed was top of the line.

She put the mask on.

"So, whadduya think?"

"It's … nice," Will admitted, still looking apprehensive and unhappy about the situation. "But still; a nice suit and some communications tech can only do so much. I'm serious when I say that there's a chance you can die out there."

Charlie tore the mask off again, now furious. Even Will, who had a lot of problems with emotional girls, could tell that Charlie was pissed off. He could see the clenched teeth through her tight-lipped smile, and the way she crossed her arms over her chest. Her baby blue eyes flared in indignation.

"You think I can't do this?" she questioned almost soundlessly. Will flinched at the coldness in her words. She continued on, ignoring his reaction. "I can do this, Will. I know I can. You have to trust me on this."

He bit his lip, giving her that look. That look meant that he was about to give in to whatever she asked of him, and it was a rather pained expression.

"Fine."

There was silence in the gym for a moment, while Charlie inwardly congratulated herself on her win and Will felt an ache in his chest. If only she would listen, she would see that her idea was a bad one, seemed to be the main sentence featured in his thoughts.

Nevertheless, Sammy did what he always did. He broke the silence with another question.

"What are we gonna call you?"

All three pondered this question, before Charlie piped up, "I think it should have to do with my awesome sneaky spy skills!"

Will snorted. "You? Spy skills? Dream on!"

"Come on," she whined. "I think I have it down. See, Dad didn't even ask where I was going tonight when I slipped out of the house."

"Your Dad never asks where you go when you leave the house," pointed out Sammy. "He doesn't care what you do as long as you don't get pregnant or die."

"Still," she argued, "he didn't even act like her saw me leave. You'd think, if I was going out, he'd say something, right? Well, no, he didn't!"

Sammy and Will exchanged looks; it was hopeless to argue with Charlie, because she always drew out the argument until there was no way it could be disputed that her side was the only side worth acknowledging. They both blamed the debating team she'd joined in elementary school.

But even if they had kept going with their squabble, it would have been interrupted. At that point, the high tech communicator which Fred had installed into the mask erupted into sound, and Fred was telling them all about the collapsing building that was the result of a Doombot attack.

Sighing nervously, Charlie put the mask on, and without anything else said, she disappeared into the night.