Previously: When the National Cheerleading Council made a sudden ruling that no superpowered persons may compete Jamie Rogers launched a protest that stirred up the media and the public; only Amelia Danvers and Natasha Romanova suspect that it is all part of a wider plot put in motion by Mal Richards and other enemies unknown.

"Thank you all for coming." Tony began the meeting the way he has every meeting for the past fifteen years. Pepper had explained it and fifteen years ago he maybe even listened to the explanation. Maybe. He did a lot of listening in that first year or so of marriage when they were both trying to prove something to everyone who said it wouldn't last. Which was everyone. Anyway, fifteen years ago it was about starting from a place of mutual respect or some equally How-to-be-a-great-leader-in-20-simple-steps nonsense. Or at least that was the explanation. Now, it's habit.

Though he did, honestly and truly, respect at least fifty percent of the people in the room.

The parents and guardians of the twentysomething superpowered persons living in New York under the age of 25, not counting mutants, where mutant means "homosuperior" not mutated, because they were still best left to the X-people, with one or two notable exceptions, were spread about the room. Minus a few parents, plus a few team leaders. And Anya who just always shows up at these things.

It was a crowd.

Tony stood at the front, leaning against the desk to put people at ease, but hands clasped and shoulders straight to appear serious. He had a knack for it. Pepper was seated at the desk, papers and packets spread out because even after all this time people preferred tangibles. They were easier to throw back in Tony's face. The rest were strewn about the room in various states of relaxed. Or not, as the case may be. At Tony's words they looked over and waited.

"We're here to discuss the official launching of our younger teams." Tony paused for the question and quip he knew was coming.

"What's that mean?" asked Peter, scowling. "Because I'm not putting my kids in a person-sized slingshot."

Tony raised a hand, either to calm Peter or thank him for being so predictable. "In order to do our job, the public needs to trust us. All of us, young and old, but this meeting it about the younger generation. It's especially easy not to trust the young and that's when everything is boring."

The group shuffled in their seats as he spoke; Peter's scowl darkened.

"Which as you know, it's not," continued Tony. "The Avengers is a brand. We have to protect it." This was met with more shuffling and some grumbling but Tony ignored it. "Therefore, we're going to do this right. We're going to use the next six months as a transition. Team assignments will be decided after graduation and in the meantime everyone will meet with the publicists."

"Ben's already graduated," said Peter.

"Bobby's not graduating," said Bobbi.

Tony waved his hands. "We're using it as a deadline, not a benchmark."

Jess Drew raised her index finger. "Is this whole meeting about our kids and publicity?"

"It's about how to best support our children during this transitional period which includes managing their presentation," answered Pepper.

Jess took that as a Yes. "What the hell am I doing at this meeting?"

Pepper took that as a rhetorical.

Tony shifted in his seat to regain the attention. "Questions?" It had all been decided and really he was being incredibly generous having this meeting before implementing the plan. But opening the floor to questions was another of Pepper's blah blah tips to lead.

"Did you have meetings like this when I was sixteen?" asked Rikki.

"Yes."

Rikki frowned. Anya was already scowling, though mostly in solidarity with Peter.

"What's our cut?" asked Clint.

"Sorry?"

"If we're a brand, that means we're selling. So what's our cut as parents?" Bobbi hit him. "Hey, I'm just thinking of their college tuition!"

Tony scowled and it was far more intimidating than Peter. "Clint, it's at least 33% your fault we have to rebrand in the first place."

"It's probably closer to 99% his fault," interjected Jess Drew.

Peter was still scowling more than anyone else and slightly annoyed that Carol was only irritated at the tone and not the purpose of this meeting. Tony addressed him directly, though his tone made it clear he was being indulgent.

"Peter. What are your concerns?"

Peter glared for a long time before explaining, "My children's lives are up me first and them second. And you sixty-fifth."

"That's cute," said Tony. Peter bristled. Carol closed her eyes.

"Everyone's opinions and requests will be part of the process," said Pepper. "Everyone's voice will be heard."

Jess Drew snorted. Pepper blinked but otherwise ignored it. Clint snorted at that. Bobbi had a headache. So did James, but he kept it to himself. Tony nodded to Pepper and she stood to hand out her packets.

"These are questions to think about and discuss with your children," she explained. Bobbi's headache grew. Jess Drew started laughing. Jess Jones wished to be anywhere else. James started reading. Peter flung his at Carol in disgust. Clint flung his at Peter.

"See? I'm helping."

Tony stood. "Okay, see Pepper for your assigned meeting times and please call Henry Hellrung with any complaints."

Peter picked up his phone and dialed Henry immediately. "Hang on, Henry," he said into the phone and turned to Carol. "I have Henry on hold."

Carol sighed. "I would like to discuss this in private." Peter hung up on Henry and quickly texted him [Sorry! Will call later.]

Tony raised an eyebrow but chose to ignore this exchange. "Meeting adjourned." He left the room.

The crowd started to break off into small groups. The non-parents split away. The parents who weren't superheroes themselves felt out of their league. Simon Williams tried to start a conversation about appropriate hero behavior with a number of people but they mostly avoided him. Pepper returned to her seat at the desk and fielded questions from the parents without specific complaints. Sharon, who had already been debriefed alongside her husband the night before, hung back to assist her.

James stood to leave immediately, pausing only to tell Jess Jones he'd be in touch to discuss Lindy. Jess, who'd spent the entire meeting fidgeting, nodded. "…Not that I have anything to contribute."

"You have plenty to contribute - at least as much as I do," James answered with a sardonic smile. Jess smiled back and told him to let her know when.

Bobbi, Jess Drew and Clint left together, Clint and Jess bickering until Bobbi's freak out became too loud to ignore and they banded together to tell her to snap out of it.

Carol told Peter she'd discuss the situation as soon as they got home, but wanted to avoid a spectacle. Peter agreed and pushed her to leave at once.

"What was the meeting about?" Amelia asked her parents, with some trepidation, as soon as they were in the door.

"It was terrible," said Peter, dramatically, as if the world might be ending. "It was the worst thing ever." Amelia blinked. "Ask your mother."

Carol rolled her eyes. Amelia looked from one to the other, realized she wasn't going to get a straight answer, and crossed her arms to sulk.

"We'll talk later," Carol told her and pulled Peter into the privacy of their bedroom. Amelia waited until the door shut before tiptoeing over to listen. Carol re-opened the door. "This is a private discussion." Amelia bit her lip and glanced at her father; he nodded and she walked away.

"She probably thinks we're fighting over her."

"We are fighting over her." Carol closed the door again and hit a button to set up a soundproof barrier.

"I most certainly am not. I am expressing my concerns about Tony Stark's plans."

"You are over-reacting."

"I fail to see how I am over-reacting!" Peter answered as he flailed madly. Carol spread her arms wide to say like that. "I'm not over-reacting. I'm reacting. Why aren't you reacting?"

"Nothing new was even said or done!"

Peter shook his head. "It was the implication!"

"The implication that Tony Stark runs our lives?" She rolled her eyes. "Let Tony have his delusions. Things run smoother." Peter scowled. "What do you think is best anyway?"

"I have no idea!" said Peter. "That's what Tony is for!" Carol threw a pillow at him. He caught it. "I am of the opinion that someone needs to say what I am saying."

Carol's eyes narrowed. "Have you ever considered that maybe if your kids weren't exactly like you we wouldn't have even had to have the meeting?"

"What does that mean?"

"You just said you are saying this to say something not to contribute something."

"Saying something is contributing," protested Peter. "Tony shouldn't be allowed to roll over us without any dissent."

Carol sighed and sat on the bed. "Tony isn't rolling over anyone."

"Of course Tony is rolling over us. He's Tony!"

"Not in any meaningful way." Carol was tired. "He laid out a timeline and a framework. What is so wrong about that?"

Something in her voice pulled Peter out of his entirely reasonable but self-righteous indignation and he sat beside her and took her hand.

"I'm sorry."

Carol took a deep breath and laid her head on his shoulder. "Peter, I promise no one makes decisions about our family except our family."

He nodded, jostling her head just slightly. "I would like to have a family dinner."

"Okay, but you're in charge of it." She was really very tired.

"I can handle that." He kissed her head and stood, returned to the living room where he found Amelia curled up on the sofa with her brother's arms around her protectively. She must have called him as soon as she was shut out. Peter was entirely unsurprised to see Ben, and equally thankful. It was this he needed to defend. And it was this that calmed him.

Everything was going to be okay.