A/N: Omg Tony Stark sassy-ness.


Zina gazed at her altered reflection in the chrome elevator walls. Her clothes were twisted and her hair was mused after the seven hour drive from her and Natasha's apartment to the big and bright New York City. Quiet jazz played while her and Coulson stood in comfortable silence. She glanced at the numbers on top of the sliding door; the arrow slowly traveled from 5 to 6 to 7, and so on.

Once the arrow reached 17, Zina spoke. "Am I going to get arrested?"

Coulson's face became confused, but he continued to stare at the reflective door. "Of course not. Why would you even ask?"

"You kind of over-rode his security system!" Zina pointed out. "Maybe I am with you, but Tony Stark doesn't know who I am!"

Coulson pursed his lips and took our his smartphone. "You'll be fine," he said calmly.

Zina's mouth dropped open, her hands limp at her side, one of them loosely holding onto a book. "Are- are you kidding me?" She said, her hazel eyes growing wide. "I will most likely get sent to prison and that just can't happen!" She held up the book to Coulson's face, which he pointedly ignored. "Do you even know how hard it is to coherently read Hamlet, let alone if I was in prison?!"

The middle aged agent took his time dialing a number on his black phone, and put the device to his ear, obviously ignoring the teen's rant. One could hear the faint sound of the receiver.

"Phil- Phil Coulson, oh my god, are you listeni-"

Coulson suddenly put a hand up to quiet the young girl.

No longer able to talk to Agent Phil Coulson, Zina began to talk quietly to herself. "Oh my god, Phil, you fucking jerk. I am so done. Done! D-O-N-E, you understand? Who do you even think you are? Oh, yeah: God."

This earned a heated glare from the agent.

Zina heard the receiver stop ringing and listened intently as Coulson began to speak. "Stark, we need to talk."

The faint, overly official voice from the phone replied, "You have reached the life-model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message."

"This is urgent."

"Then leave it urgently."

Zina snickered at this comment, but immediately stopped when the elevator doors opened.

Zina peered around the body of Agent Coulson to look into the room, and the sight caught her breath.

Four steps led from the elevator to the grey tiled floor, which glistened from the huge fire in the enormous fireplace to her left, and from the lights coming in from the windows (well, actually, it was a wall of windows) of nighttime New York. To her right was a wrap-around bar with a marble countertop and dozens of drinks that Zina probably didn't even know existed.

Her eyes focused back on the situation when Coulson slipped his phone back into his pocket and she heard a male voice say "Security breach, its on you!"

Oh my god, it's him.

"Phil, come in," said a kind female voice that Zina didn't recognize.

"Phil?" said the iconic voice in an annoyed tone.

"We can't stay," Coulson said simply.

"We're celebrating," said the woman's voice.

"Which is why he can't stay, actu- wait, what do you mean 'we'?"

Suddenly, Coulson stepped into the penthouse, revealing the teenager to the public, which Zina was totally not mentally prepared for.

Zina was pretty sure she stopped breathing, and brain went into overdrive. 'Shit shit shit Coulson where are you going what am I even going to say if Tony Stark egotistical sassy hottie billionaire talks to me oh my god my life is over I am so going to prison all because of fucking Coulson like seriously what the fuuuuuuuu-'

Her internal rant of self pity made her miss the question that was asked to her, and now everyone was staring at her and she didn't know why. Shit.

Zina looked from Coulson to Stark, to his glowing arc reactor, to the tall, thin strawberry blonde woman in cut off shorts. "I missed something, didn't I?"

"Who the hell are you?" Tony Stark asked blatantly.

The lady hit his bicep. 'His large, sexy bicep,' Zina thought to herself. Then another thought entered her mind 'Oh god, I hope no one here can read minds.'

"God, Tony, don't be rude." said the tall woman.

"No, no, its okay," Zina explained to the woman. "I would ask the same thing if an overweight teenage ginger wearing a Blink 182 tee, leggings, and Doc Martens walked into my tower penthouse uninvited with a secret government agent." Zina glanced at Coulson, whose expression was a clear representation of a metaphorical facepalm. Zina sighed. Nice going, asshat.

"Oh, umm..." The woman's paused, brows furrowed and she glanced at Zina's feet, then back to her face. "Okay."

The four of them were launched into an immense awkward silence. Zina prayed to the SHIELD gods that Coulson would get her out of this one. Awkward silences were his specialty.

Luckily, her prayers were answered, and Coulson cleared his throat. "Stark, Miss Potts, this is-"

"I'm Vincenzina," she said, cutting Coulson off. "Pronounced 'Vin-CHEN-zeena'. It's Italian, which is weird, 'cause the rest of my family is Russian." She hopped down the four steps and onto the large grey tiles. Her dark eyebrows rose and she looked at Stark. "Oh, and I have a sister. You might know her."

Tony Stark's dark walnut eyes pierced through Zina with so much intensity and consideration, she thought lazer beams might come out of his pupils. After about a minutes of his soul-seeing gaze, his furrowed brows smoothed out, and then rose in surprise. "You're Natasha Romanoff's sister."

"Ding ding ding," Zina smiled, which looked more like a grimace. "Gold star."

"Oh, well, now that that's settled," Miss Potts walked over to Zina, "Pepper Potts," she said kindly, holding out her dainty hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss Romanoff."

"Likewise," Zina said politely, shaking the woman's hand. The two females looked at one another, each considering their next move.

Miss Potts was the first to break eye contact, tearing her royal blue spheres away from Zina's hazel ones, and focusing on Agent Coulson. "It's good to see you, Phil," she informed the stoic agent, her bright teeth shining. Coulson smiled in return, a bit more relaxed-looking than usual.

"You too, Miss Potts."

"Phil?" Anthony Stark asked incredulously, making Zina startle. She had almost forgotten where she was and who she was with while gazing out the wall-spanning window.

She had lost herself in the bright and bustling New York City. She could see Times Square from the hight of the penthouse, the giant McDonald's sign and Darren Criss' face reflecting in her abnormally large glasses. Zina saw miniature ant-taxis and other whizzing every which way, and the thousands and millions of pedestrians bustling about their lives. Their normal lives, she thought, feeling the smallest amount of envy bubble in her gut.

But then Tony Stark opened his mouth, and Zina hurtled back to real life.

"Yeah, uhh, his first name is 'Agent'." Stark said as he hurried over to Pepper and Agent Coulson. Zina laughed audibly at that comment, and soon enough, three pairs of eyes were on her yet again. Wow, twice in one night. That must be a new record for awkward stares, Zina.

She pulled at the hem of her shirt awkwardly. "It- like- that was funny," she finally spit out after stumbling over her words.

Coulson saved the day yet again.

"Stark, this is for you." Coulson said as he reached to give Stark a black file with a SHIELD watermark. "SHIELD need you to look these over."

Stark put his not-champagne-glass-holding hand out to stop Coulson from handing him the folders. "Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday," he looked at the object being shoved at him in disdain. "And I don't like being handed things," he said as if it were the most obvious answer to any question ever. Like, you could ask "What's the answer to the universe and everything" and any normal person who knew anything would say "Tony Stark doesn't like being handed things". That was how he said it.

"Well, this works out nicely," Miss Potts said, grinning, "because I love being handed things." She smiled at Coulson sweetly as they traded the files for the wine glass. She then proceeded to trade off with Stark, handing him the files and plucking the glass from his hand. "Thank you," she said cutely, downing the liquid. Tony Stark glared at the thing in his hands, and began waling to a counter with a thick glass top. "Is this about the Avengers Initiative?" Miss Potts asked suddenly. Then she must've realized what she said, because her eyes grew wide and she started stuttering. "Wh-which I know no-nothing about, by the way."

Zina's ears perked up at the mention of the Avengers Initiative. She had heard Natasha talk about it once or twice in passing, and had maybe-sort of browsed through the manilla files on Coulson's car dashboard this one time when Nat was out on an assignment and she had to stay with him. The Avengers Initiative, starring an egotistical hottie, a man with serious anger issues, a 70-year-old 20-year-old who had a fine piece of ass, her big sissy, her big sissy's BFF, and a fucking god. A+, SHIELD.

"Phffff, the Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought," Tony said, placing the files on the counter. He looked back at Miss Potts and Coulson, an annoyed look adorning his face. "And I didn't even qualify!"

"I didn't know that either," Miss Potts pointed out, which to Zina, it was painfully obvious that she did.

"Yeah," Stark continued, skimming over the file. "Apparently I'm volatile, self obsessed, don't play well with others, and-"

Miss Potts smiled innocently. "That I did know."

Tony Stark looked up from the file he had just been given and continued to talk like Miss Potts hadn't interrupted him. "-And what is Vin-sin-whatever doing here anyway because like, seriously, are you for real Natasha Romanoff's little sis?"

Zina looked up from her game of Fruit Ninja (where she was just about to beat her high score, by the way) like a deer in headlights. "What?"

"Are you legitimately related to Natasha Romanoff?"

Zina hesitated, tucking a stray piece of unruly hair behind her ear and pushing her glasses further up her nose. "Uhh, yeah. We're related."

"But, like..." Stark struggled for the right words. "How?"

"I ask myself that everyday, Mr. Stark."

Zina saw Tony grin at that, so she assumed she must have said something right.

"So, Vin-sin-whatevs, you have a nickname?"

Zina realized she was having an actual conversation with this man, and wanted to make it last. "Yeah, it's Zina."

Tony looked up from the files and grinned. "Like the warrior princess!"

"Uhh..." Zina was used to getting this. Although, she honestly hated the connection people made. "It's spelled differently," she explained. "Z-I-N-A instead of X-E-N-A."

"Whatever." And their conversation ended there. "Miss Potts, got a minute?"

Pepper Potts walked across the room to stand beside Tony Stark, leaving Zina and Coulson semi-alone, considering they were all in the same room. But it was a very large room.

"Well," Zina started, "that was sufficiently awkward."

Coulson eyed the teen and smirked. "You brought it upon yourself."

"Fuck off."

After Pepper and Tony's four minute long semi-private conversation (Coulson shielded Zina's eyes from their little not-really-whispering-but-actually-kissing thing), they were all ready to leave the magnificent penthouse. Coulson had agreed to drop Miss Potts at the airport on the way to his apartment, and the two walked towards the elevator.

Zina and Tony Stark shook hands, his tanned skin clashing with her pale hand. "It's been a pleasure, warrior princess." He grinned lazily, pulling his large hand back to the side of his pants.

"Same," was all Zina could think to say, Stark's arc reactor slightly illuminating her face. She smiled up at him, her inside-voice going crazy. I just touched Tony Stark like I just shook hands with him OH MY GOD what even is this life.

"Zina, are you coming?"

She turned to see Coulson and Miss Potts waiting in the elevator. Zina's checked flushed a light pink in embarrassment, and she trotted over to the open elevator doors. A sudden thought struck her mind, and she almost fell on her ass trying to stop her momentum.

"Mr. Stark, I have one question."

Tony turned back to the teenage girl, amusement evident on his handsome features. "9.9 times out of ten, I will have an answer, so shoot."

"Am I going to get arrested, Mr. Stark?" Zina blurted.

The amusement flashed to confusion, then back to the quirked brow and the half-smile. "Only if you keep on calling me Mr. Stark." He started walking back to the files, now on multiple computer screens. "It's Tony, sweetheart."

And that is the story of how Zina's ovaries - I mean, err... brain exploded.