As promised, Chapter 2!

I still don't own Marvel, unfortunately, but I like to think the concept of the Y Suit is pretty original and fully mine!

Let me know what you think in the reviews!

-Aidan

Toni sat on the lid of the toilet in her private bathroom, her feet tap-tapping nervously against the porcelain floor on either side of the commode while she studied the scissors in her right hand. Her left hand tugged at her loose dark curls while she worked up the courage to bring the scissors to them. Screwing her eyes shut tight, she brought the blades in close against her scalp and squeezed them together; that first liberating, yet panic-inducing shhhnnnnkkk! causing a few long locks to slither down the plastic sheeting she had draped around herself to the floor. There was no going back now. She did her best to cut evenly, leaving the top a bit longer like her father had his. It had been five years since Howard had given Toni use of his shop. Five years, and many small cover projects to give him something to show for the concession. Each project was good, but would fall just shy of ground-breaking. But, that was her intent. He wasn't meant to give in so easily. He would shake his head in disappointment, but grudgingly offer a critique of her work. Some of her ideas had been implemented in his own work, but it wasn't enough.

The Suit would be. It had taken some very fine engineering work on Antonia's part to work it into something that didn't seem like a poorly crafted Halloween mask. The entire thing fit better than the finest tailored kid gloves, and it moved with her with a seamlessness she had labored over tirelessly. She'd had to work in something where her own body movement powered the receptors inside of it. This allowed the suit to feel, and mimic, her heartbeat so that she had a pulse even wearing it. There were other things that this allowed as well. Her sweat would be carried through the suit so that it would sweat out of its own pores. She'd studied the anatomy of a boy's parts so that she could utilize them correctly in the suit, and, in the privacy of her bathroom, had learned to pee standing up. The nine-year-old had watched carefully when at school, so that she could practice the walk, talk, and behaviors of boys her age. When she was in her room alone, wearing most of the suit, save for the very last bits of the head pieces because of her hair, she was Anthony Edward Stark. A persona she had tailored over five years of careful scrutiny and work. Tony. Not Toni. Yet another Y that her suit had given her. Him. The suit had given Him the freedom to know that he could be the son of the great Howard Stark. Now, with the last change complete so that he could wear the entire suit comfortably, now that the bulk of his hair was gone, Tony was headed to dinner.

He knew it would cause a stir. He knew it would be something he really should feel anxious about. But if Tony was honest with himself, he was so comfortable in this new skin that he didn't feel anxious at all. Howard had asked for a son. It had taken five years, but Tony was about to give him what he had asked for. With a final check in the mirror and an adjustment of the cuffs of his sleeves, Tony left his rooms for the first time as a boy.

Maria was the first to react. Her footsteps faltered as she entered the dining room from the other doorway, and she gave Tony a puzzled look, which quickly grew to horror as she recognized the child in front of her. "H-Howard!" she stammered. "Howard.. Antonia has.. she's.."

Howard didn't look up from the minutes of his last debriefing as he walked in behind Maria. "What's she done now?"

"Hello, father," Tony said calmly.

Howard glanced up in annoyance, "Antonia, whatever it is you've…" his voice faltered and stopped. He neatly gathered the papers together and set them next to his place at the table and turned to face his daughter. Calmly, he examined the small person in front of him. From the slightly unevenly cut hair to the impeccable dinner suit, the child looked like a boy. "Very funny, Antonia. Is it a robot? Has this been your secret project? I must admit that so far, it's much more impressive than the other tripe you've been trying to pass off. I don't even hear a motor. Make it speak again."

"I'm not a robot, papa."

Howard frowned. "Again."

Antonia's eyebrows quirked together in puzzled frustration. "I'm not a robot."

Her father covered his mouth with one hand, gripping that elbow with his other hand as he stood studying his child's work in barely concealed amazement. "The expressions," he exclaimed. "Come out, Antonia. Let's discuss what you've done!"

He watched as his daughter stepped towards him and spread her arms as if to say, "Well, here I am." His amazement turned to disappointment and disgust as another idea came to him. "Who are you? Where did she find a boy her age that looks so much like her?"

"No, papa, it's me. Tony."

"Impossible. Is it makeup? Your mother will have your head for cutting your hair." Howard gripped her chin uncomfortably hard, trying to brush off makeup that wasn't there with a work-calloused thumb.

Antonia slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and her Oxford shirt, removing them and draping them carefully over the back of a chair. She was left in her undershirt and trousers, standing before him. "Look, papa." She turned in a slow circle, her arms extended, allowing Howard to study the lean musculature of a boy who played hard.

The man watched carefully. "How?" he asked.

His daughter's eyes were resolute as she said, "Maybe us boys should talk in the shop, and explain it to mother later?"

Howard nearly laughed. Nearly. "Us boys." That's what his daughter had said. He gestured begrudgingly in the direction of his shop, watching the boy go in front of him. Even the kid's voice was different. Without the lilting, polished, feminine tones of a well brought up little girl, and instead bearing the confidence, sharpness, and attitude of a spoiled, high-brow little boy. They descended the steps to the shop that Howard had mostly left to Toni, and Howard looked around in unconcealed surprise. There, clearly displayed on the walls, were carefully drawn out plans of every bit of the hardware that Toni wore.

"You planned bringing me down here to see this," the Stark patriarch ground out.

"Well, yes. It's easier to explain this way."

Toni's posture was relaxed and at home in this shop, and Howard realized that since that day he had told his four-year-old daughter to make him proud, the child had holed herself up down here endeavoring to do just that. He'd barely seen her, and she hadn't caused any trouble. She was a private creature, throwing herself into research that was quite simply… brilliant. His eyes perused the drawings and notes carefully, rounding further and further with awe as he learned just what it was that his child had done. No longer was he annoyed at the idea that his daughter had taken his words to mean that she had to be his son… He had a son. He looked at the little boy before him. This child had truly made something life-altering, as he had demanded. Not only had the kid created something that would change her… his own life, but it would change Howard's too. Now Howard could introduce his child to the world, letting them know that Stark Industries had a successor for when the time was right. Not only that, but the possibilities that this suit afforded… The technology would be ground-breaking in the field of espionage. If they could figure out ways for it to be produced quickly and inexpensively enough, it would allow world leaders to move un-recognized. For the more wealthy and eccentric celebrities to move unhindered through paparazzi. And for the film industry! If it could be made at the right costs… Howard's mind was moving quickly through scenarios that could put him at the top yet again, all thanks to this brilliant child in front of him.

He looked Tony in the eyes and extended his hand for a handshake. "Well done, son."