1 year ago . . .

Husband.

Tony Stark had worn many titles over the years, some repeatable, some not. But not husband. Husband. Husband husband husband. What a word. Why that word to describe a married man? Why not "not-wife"? Or "Male-half" or for that matter, now that he thought about it, where did the word wife come from? He'd have to look that up sometime.

"The term husband is Norse, sir," Jarvis informed him. "Most likely from the original word for householder. Wife, originally from the Proto-Germanic word for 'woman'."

"Jarvis, can't you let me know when I'm verbalizing thoughts?"

"That is the thirty-ninth time you have made that request since I came online, Sir. A variety of methods, subtle and otherwise, have been attempted in order to comply with your request. When you are 'In the Zone', Sir, a frequent occurrence, the only ways to get your attention usually involve Ms. Potts or Colonel Rhodes."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Also, Sir, I must inform you that efforts to comply with these requests are a drain on resources."

Tony frowned. "Jarvis, just how many of those unfulfilled requests are currently active?"

"Eliminating requests and commands being unfullfilled due to supplies and physical resources in transit from vendors and requests made under Protocol forty-seven, Six thousand, seven hundred and four. They range from a request for 'Space Wheaties' on a daily basis to yesterday, when you used Alpha Priority and demanded enough tequila to get the Hulk drunk, an order Ms Potts has vetoed using her own Alpha Priority clearance. The conflict remains."

"Oh." Space Wheaties? "Um, cancel those six thousand pending requests and anything else not related to current projects, Stark Industries, The Avengers, or resupply."

"And the conflict, Sir?"

"Yeah. No tequila. Cancel that."

"Very good, Sir."

"Space Wheaties, Jarvis?"

"I can't imagine."

"Add that to the list of projects; Invent Space Wheaties."

"I must inform you, Sir, that Ms. Potts, Colonel Rhodes, Captain Rogers, Agent Coulson and Director Fury, have all filed their own priority commands that they be informed should you ever try inventing new foods or attempt anything more complicated than coffee."

"Is this about the food processor? Because I took out the AI core and it hasn't attacked anyone in like, a month."

"Sir, there is a young lady in the tower lobby requesting to see Ms Potts. Demanding, actually."

"Pepper's not here. Come back later. Bored now."

"The young lady is insistent, Sir. She came all the way from Alabama to see Ms. Potts. She claims to have no where else to go."

Tony tapped his fingers on the workbench. He wasn't stupid, the whole thing smelled like an attempt a con, but hell, he was bored and running rings around con artists was fun. "Who else is in the building?"

"Captain Rogers and Agent Barton are in the gym, and Agent Coulson is in his workspace doing paperwork. Doctor Banner is in his quarters." Which covered security concerns or the need for backup in case the girl was more than she seemed.

"Bring her up, Jarvis."


The girl was cute as a button. Short reddish hair peeking out from under a battered purple beret framed a freckled face with dark eyes, a slightly broad nose and a smiling mouth. She wore a a heavy coat the same color as the Beret that came down to her knees which revealed the legs of a battered pair of jeans with feet stuffed into an equally battered pair of shoes. Even the coat, the newest part of her wardrobe, was looking a bit shabby. She carried a backpack on one shoulder and a large cloth suitcase in her hands.

"You," Tony said, flopping onto one of the couches, martini in hand, "have five minutes. Go."

Within two minutes, he was calling for Coulson.

At the end of the five minutes, in Malibu, Pepper Potts' phone rang.

By midnight, she was back in New York.


"Explain it again," Pepper said, a scotch and soda in hand. "Doreen, right?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Doreen Samantha Green, an my momma and you were in college," the girl began, hands clasped between her knees. She had not removed her coat and backpack and suitcase were at her feet. "And one night, she asked ya to be godmother to me."

"Yes, I remember that night," Pepper said. "I also remember we were drunk and that she was still a virgin."

"Yeah, I came along a bit later. She hada go home to take care of her momma and you fell out of touch."

Pepper nodded when Coulson and the other Avengers looked at her. "It's true, Markie's mother had a stroke and she had to drop out. We kept in touch until I graduated and went to work at S.I. I was too busy to keep up my end and the letters stopped coming." She took a long drink. "She was the best fashion designer I'd ever seen too."

"Um, she never studied that," Doreen said, "Momma was an English major. Couldn't sew worth a hill of beans and you never let her try after that time she mended your suit and then it fell off when you were under the falls at Blackberry Farm."

"Damn," Pepper whispered and Tony saw belief wash across her face. "I swore her to secrecy about that."

"Towards the end, Momma told me a lot of stories. Said you were important now and wouldn't believe me without proof because everyone wants to lie to important people."

"May I ask what happened to her?" Coulson asked, tablet computer in hand.

"Momma got sick. Powerful sick. I did what I could, but she and Daddy insisted I go to school and keep up my studies. Daddy tried his best, but he had to work more than ever and when Momma got sicker, well, his poor heart just couldn't keep up. An' when he was gone, Momma got sadder and sadder. That's when she told me all the stories, Ma'am. You and Chad Bromhill, and the time in Sophmore year when you and she went to the Gamma Delta-"

"Yes. Okay. You know all of Markie's stories," Pepper interrupted.

"Anyways Ma'am, last Monday, I went to bring Momma her tea and help her to the bathroom, and . . . and she wasn't sad anymore. Wasn't anythin'." Doreen wiped her eyes on her coat sleeve. "When I told the welfare lady that my godmother was in New York, well, she packed me on a bus straightaway. Didn't have much time to pack, either. Landlord was in a powerful hurry to clean the place out. Lost Daddy's prize collection of Nascar plates. Ugly as sin, Momma said, but well, they were his. Had to scramble just to get the photo album before he threw it out in the dumpster. Welfare lady wasn't in the mood for me to stand around and had me at the bus depot by sunset that day. Bus at sunrise the next mornin' an' here I am."

"Wait a minute." Jane Foster came around the couch. "She made you wait at the depot overnight . . . unsupervised . . and then you were on a bus for a week?"

"Well the bus had to go to Nashville an' Chicago first," Doreen admitted. "An' then Boston after that. It was cheaper that way, I guess. Ms Conston didn't exactly take kindly to me on account . . ."

"On account of what?" Pepper demanded. Doreen, however, seemed to shrink in upon herself and she looked frightened.

"Miss," Coulson pointed out. "We are checking into your story. If you're hiding something, we will find it. It's better to tell us now."

"Momma didn't like me talkin' 'bout it. She loved me, but she didn't know how to handle things."

"What things?" Pepper demanded.

"Doreen, its okay." Jane sat next to the girl. "Whatever it is, we're not gonna hate you." She laid a hand on the girl's back and then froze, staring at her hand. "Doreen . . . what?"

Sighing, Doreen stood, undid her coat, and let it fall. Silence reigned and then Clint Barton stood up on the couch and pointed. "That . . . IS AWESOME!" Rising just over Doreen's head was a fluffy, broad tail the same color as her hair. The tip curled slightly and the whole thing seemed to puff up just a little at Barton's enthusiastic words.

"Barton!" Coulson snapped.

"But it's awesome!" Barton pointed out. "She's like, a Squirrel Girl!" He grinned again and then folded up as Natasha rammed her elbow into the side of his leg.

"You're going to scare her," she said.

"No. It's okay," Doreen admitted. "Squirrel Girl's what Daddy called me. I don't mind."

Tony flicked a glance around the room. No one seemed angry, or hateful, just varying degrees of surprise and both Natasha and Coulson had their usual neutral expressions on. Which was kind of a relief as Tony wasn't sure how to react if one of his fellow Avengers turned out to be a bigot.

Throw them off the landing terrace, probably.

"I'm a mutant, I guess," Doreen continued. "Stronger than Daddy's truck, got claws and teeth, tail grew in when I was ten." She looked down as her coat started chittering and wiggling before a squirrel with yellowish gray fur wiggled its way out of one of the pockets and scampered into Doreen's lap where it chittered again.

"I told you, Joe," Doreen said to it. "We're in New York. I had to find a new place with Momma and Daddy gone." She looked up at them. "This is Monkey Joe, he's my closest friend. Joe, this is Ms. Pepper. Momma wanted her to be my new Momma if anything happened to her." Joe regarded Pepper intently and then gave a very human shrug before climbing Doreen's arm and perching on her shoulder. "An' . . . I can talk to squirrels."

"Cool, someone to keep those vermin off my balcony," Tony shrugged and then flinched backwards as Joe let out a screech and chattered angrily at Tony, shaking his paw.

"Tony . . . he understood you." Steve sounded awed. "He understands English."

"Joey! You stop that right now!" Doreen pulled Joe into her lap while her free hand dug some nuts from the coat's pocket. Joe stopped chittering and examined the nuts before selecting one and curling up in Doreen's lap, watching Tony balefully. "Joe's really smart," Doreen explained, petting Joe's back. "Like, people smart. An' he's got opinions."

"Dude, apologize to the squirrel," Barton told Tony, bouncing back to his feet. "You insulted his people."

Joe nodded firmly.

"I am not apologizing to a-" Tony started to say and then blinked as Joe hurled a piece of nut at his chest and then chittered angrily.

"Joe!" Doreen looked embarrassed. "You're not suposta use those kinda words."

Tony blinked again. "Did I just get bitched out by a squirrel?"

"Like a boss," Barton informed him. "Bitched out. By a squirrel. Like a fucking boss."

Coulson stood up and jerked his head towards the kitchen. Pepper rose to her feet, and she, Tony, and Coulson left the room.

"Background check run." Coulson informed them as the kitchen door slid shut. "Markie Cross did marry one John D. Green and they did have one daughter, Doreen. John died of a heart attack six months ago, and Cross of terminal cancer last week. No medical insurance, no money for travel, so no treatment. Doreen's school picture matches our guest out there and there's a couple of Facebook pages with her name and picture on them." Coulson paused. "All of them are hate pages," he added quietly. "Doreen's fingerprints are on file with the Alabama state police, and she gave her thumbprint when the lobby guard had her sign in. They're a match."

"Pepper?" Tony asked.

"Ms. Potts," Coulson continued, "even if her caseworker in Alabama is a fucking disgrace of a human being, and she is, this is New York. Social Services will have picked up the case and we're likely to have an agent here tomorrow morning, if not sooner. I have to tell you, it's unlikely they'll let her stay. The dangers presented by being around the Avengers aside, well, to be blunt, Tony Stark is not the sort of person most people see as a good foster parent. SHIELD can help you work the system, but even if the caseworker lets her stay, there's gonna be a lot of public outcry."

Pepper looked at Tony who smiled. "I'm game if you are," he said.

Pepper Potts stared at the tile, but she wasn't seeing it. What she saw was hours of conversation in their dorm room, shoulders cried on and shared secrets. Her mind flashed back over homework, college boys, and summer jobs . . . and one drunken rain soaked night of plans for the future that neither of them ever thought would come to pass.

"She was my first best friend," Pepper admitted in a low voice. "Tony . . . I don't know if I can . . . what if I mess up?"

"Then we'll put things to rights," Tony replied, "that's what we do. Pep . . . it's your call. No matter what, I'm behind you a hundred percent."

Pepper stared at the tile of the counter again and then took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if it was the right decision, but it was the only one she could make.


Everyone looked up when they returned. Thor had been in the middle of telling some epic story which involved much gesturing and Joe was now perched on the Asgardian's head, looking smug.

Tony stared around the room and took a deep breath. "Doreen," he said with heavy finality. "I'm sorry . . ." the girl's face fell and she reached for her coat. "But," he continued, "Your curfew is going to be at ten and lights out by midnight. We'll start the adoption paperwork in the morning, and you can take on Stark as your last name if you want. Pepper didn't, but maybe you'll have better taste. Jarvis, do we have any rooms in this dump where a Squirrel Girl might feel at home?"

"Several," Jarvis replied.

Doreen grinned hugely and then leapt off of the couch and hugged Tony, lifting him off his feet. Then she did the same to Pepper.

"Come, friends!" Thor boomed. "We must fetch food and drink! For we celebrate an addition to the House of Stark this night!"

"No!" Pepper held up one hand. "It is after midnight, I am jet lagged, and as Tony said, Doreen needs to be in bed by midnight, with the lights out and it is nearly one. Tomorrow will be filled with lawyers and paperwork and I, for one, would like to get some sleep before then. No celebrating."

"But big feast for dinner tomorrow," Tony added.


The next morning, Doreen was woken by the soft chimes of the alarm she'd set.

"Good morning, Ms Green," Jarvis said, "it is Six forty-five am and the weather is partly cloudy with a thirty percent chance of rain. It is currently sixty-four degrees outside. You do not have any items on your schedule."

Next to Doreen's head, Joe opened one eye, grumbled disgruntedly and then he too sat up. Noisy.

Doreen yawned and pushed the blankets back. "You can sleep in if you want, Joey," she told him. "But Ms. Pepper asked me to be up by seven thirty. The social worker's probably coming today."

The same one? Joe shook his tail. I get to bite her this time.

"No biting," Doreen repeated, and ignoring the ladder that led to the sleeping loft, dropped the ten feet to the floor. "We don't bite."

"Are you all right, Ms. Green?" Jarvis asked.

"I'm fine Jarvis, just getting out of the loft." Doreen frowned. "Weren't you watchin?"

"As a matter of privacy, I do not watch the bedrooms directly unless asked or the building is under lockdown. However, I can detect the vibrations caused by footsteps or someone falling."

"Oh. Guess I made a big bump."

"Indeed. Will you be customarily leaving the loft in that manner in the future?"

Doreen looked up at the loft as Joe descended the ladder. Foolishness, he announced and padded his way into the bathroom, which had fascinated Doreen to no end. The trailer she'd lived in with her parents was a double wide and the room was easily as big as the trailer had been. Plus it had a bathroom with a both a shower and a bathtub and the floor didn't freeze your toes off. For his part, Joe thought that while toilets were a foolish use of water, it was better than then digging in the dirt and burying . . . stuff.

"Probably," Doreen admitted. "I'll try not to though if it bothers you."

"Your concern is appreciated, Ms. Green, but I am merely attempting to learn your morning habits to better anticipate your needs."

"Don't need much," Doreen said, wandering over to the window and staring out over the city. "Never had much to need."

All you need is food, shelter, and a mate, Joe announced, exiting the bathroom. Humans would be less primitive if they would figure that out. He began to rummage in Doreen's coat.

Hex damp, Mr. Joe, Jarvis said. Joe stared at the ceiling, mouth open, and Doreen covered her mouth to stifle her giggles.

What by the Long Cold is that supposed to mean? Joe demanded.

"He's trying to speak squirrel, Joe," Doreen explained, crouching to get the nuts out for Joe.

He's bad at it.

"Ah, I seem to have given offense," Jarvis said.

"It's okay," Doreen assured him. "What were you trying to say?"

"Good morning."

"Oh. It's Good Morning," Doreen told him. She gave Joe one nut and took a few more for herself. The bone spike slid from her wrist and she opened the nuts with a few practiced blows. "I should shower, I guess," she told Joe.

More foolishness, Joe opined.


As a rule, Tony rose when Pepper did and Pepper hadn't had much sleep. They'd both been up since four in the morning and Pepper had been plauged with doubts and second guesses. By the time the rest of the Avengers had gotten up, they'd burned through two pots of coffee and were waiting on the third.

As was customary, they gathered in the kitchen around the central island, perched on barstools and coffee mugs clasped in both hands, eyes bleary.

"Greetings, oh daughter who is not of my loins!" Tony called out as Doreen entered, Joe perched on her shoulder. "Which would be strange if you were since I distinctly remember being put under for a procedure that-" Pepper clapped her hand over Tony's mouth.

"Good Morning," Jane told her with a tired smile. "There's juice and milk in the fridge. Tea by the stove if you want it, but don't touch the Darjeeling or the Green Blossom."

"Or coffee," Tony added. "There's always coffee."

"Young ladies do not need coffee," Jane opined.

"And when did you start drinking coffee?" Barton asked.

"At fifteen, so I speak from experience," Jane replied.

"Can't drink it anyway," Doreen admitted. "Caffine tears my stomach up something fierce. So does Hot dogs, chili, a lot of the spicy and greasy stuff." She opened the fridge and found herself confronted with a rack of every type of juice she could possibly imagine. After a moment, she selected the orange juice and Bruce pointed out the glasses to her. "Caused Momma no end of trouble when she did the shopping. I mostly eat nuts and fruit. Eggs here and there, and sometimes, bits of chicken when it's been skinned. Stuff like that." She smiled sadly. "Daddy kept saying that with the amount of rabbit food he was eating, he was gonna sprout ears and a tail." Pepper indicated the empty barstool next to her and Doreen climbed on and Joe scamped down her arm and began examining the counter surface.

How do you run on this? Joe demanded. He tapped it with his claws.

"And for our new furry friend," Tony announced, retrieving a covered bowl and a small, doll sized bowl filled with water. "Gourmet nuts, retrieved from uptown just this morning by a Stark Industries intern who was not fast enough to elude my deadly aim of 'You answered the phone, therefore you are available to do something for me'." With a flourish, he removed the bowl cover, revealing a sampling of what was probably every kind of nuts in existence.

Joe sniffed the bow, whiskers twitching. I am not your friend he informed, Tony primly, But I forgive your earlier transgression. Then he launched himself into the bowl, scattering nuts everywhere.

"Joey!" Doreen gasped. "Mind your manners!"

"Your pardon, Sir," Jarvis broke in, "but there is an agent from Social Services here to see you and Ms. Potts."

"Send him up," Tony replied and drained the coffee mug. "Show time."


Sam Wilson was as tall as Captain America, and almost as broad. One look at his face said that he was a hardass and took no shit from anyone. He did not accept Tony's invitation to join the Avengers for breakfast and he looked the entire penthouse over with a critical eye. Barton had been exiled to his room and Bruce had taken his breakfast down to the lab. Jane had taken Thor back to his room, and Natasha had politely excused herself. Steve was around somewhere and Coulson sat nearby, apparently working intently on his computer.

"What game are you running here, Stark?" Wilson demanded once they were back in the kitchen. Barton had returned there and was intent on making what appeared to be the world's biggest sandwhich.

"No game," Tony replied, completely relaxed and comfortable. "We can't have children, and so we're adopting."

"Bull." Wilson jabbed a finger at Tony's nose. "Some rich playboy living in a house full of lunatics comes waltzing into my city and adopts? Ain't buying it. Give me one good reason to believe you, Stark, and if any part of that includes offering some kind of donation to Social Services, I swear to God, I will take this girl out of here so fast your heads won't stop spinning until we put a man on Mars."

"You want something to buy?" Tony leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes hard. "Fine. My parents were killed in a car crash. My so called godfather had me in a succession of boarding schools followed by six years at MIT before hauling me off to Malibu where he bamboozled my happy butt into spending nearly twenty years of coming up with new ways to kill people. My parents wouldn't have won awards, but up until they died, I damn well had a home. But even if none of that applied, there's still this." Tony held up his hand to show Wilson his wedding band. "Pepper is Doreen's godmother, but I made promises when I put this on and Pepper's fight is my fight and I fight to win. I know what it means to be uprooted and tossed somewhere new and the least I can do is make damn sure that Doreen has access to a fair chance, the best schools, and a future, one that she chooses and the support she needs to make it happen. You worry about bad influences? She's down the hall from Captain America and a Norse God. Safety? We're the Avengers and as for money, I'm Tony Goddamn Stark. You buy that, Wilson?"

For a moment, the two men stared at each other and then Wilson nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do." He dug into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of forms at least three inches thick. "I'll need these filled out ASAP." He grinned at Tony's expression. "Hope you didn't have anything else planned for the day, Stark."

At that moment, Joe emerged from the bowl of nuts, looking immensely satisfied. That was adequate, he declared.

"What is that?" Wilson asked.

"This is Monkey Joe," Doreen said. "Um, I can talk to squirrels, you see. He's really smart and he's my best friend. He's really not any trouble, Mr. Wilson."

"He got his shots and license?"

If Tony had thought Joe had been angry over his remark about squirrels, that was nothing compared to the tirade Joe unleashed on Wilson, complete with paw shaking, screeching and foot stomping that ended with Joe hurling an unshelled walnut at Wilson's chest and a paw pointed at the door. Doreen's face was bright red and her eyes so wide in horror and embarrassment, Tony felt incredibly bad for her and at the same time, so very very glad he didn't speak squirrel.

"While Stark and Potts get started on their paperwork," Coulson said smoothly, "there's some forms you'll need to sign as well." He escorted Wilson from the kitchen.

"Dude," Barton exclaimed from the other side of the Island, "that was awesome! Gimme five!" he held out his hand and Joe slapped it and then turned to Doreen and chittered, pointing at Barton.

"Joe!" Doreen turned even redder. "I told you, I ain't old enough for that stuff yet."

"Did the squirrel just suggest what I think he did?" Tony asked.

"Joe's smart, but he's not quite clear on that humans grow up different," Doreen admitted. "He thinks if we'd just be more like squirrels, humans wouldn't be so primitive."

"He's kind of got a point," Barton mused. "Sittin' around naked, running around in trees, sleeping all winter, I could get behind that."

"You'd be bored inside of two minutes," Natasha informed him, stealing one of Barton's potato chips and making everyone but Barton jump because they hadn't seen her come in.

"This is true."

Tony and Pepper sighed and then they each picked up a pen and went to work.


Doreen's clothes were well cared for, but not in the best condition and she'd packed haphazardly. Tony vaguely remembered being a teenager and if memory served, teenagers had their own ideas about clothing and room decoration and what not.

Solution; Give Doreen his credit card and turn her loose in the shopping district, an idea Jane nixed the moment she heard it. No teenager alive needed an unlimited shopping budget or would have any practical idea (Tony argued that when your budget was unlimited, what was the point of being practical and was ignored) what do with one. Instead, she, Pepper, and Natasha, along with Barton and Steve to play pack mule, ventured into the Village and SoHo and returned with several armloads of clothing, decorations, bedding and footwear for well under ten thousand dollars which offended Tony since he owned suits that cost twice as much. Also, what was the point of being dad if he couldn't spoil the hell out of his kid?

The rest of the first week passed without incident