AN – So I think I like this story. There's nothing like a Tony who doesn't know what to do. Throw in a child that doesn't speak English or know who he is – this is going to be a wild ride!

Disclaimer – Only Emily is my own, and even then she's pretty simple. Everything goes back to Marvel otherwise.

Chapter 2

Awkward Gestures

The next morning - while once again elbow deep in wiring - Pepper came down and told me that the girl would arrive in approximately 24 hours. The jet had to get there, set up again, and turn right back around to bring her to me. It took a while from Russia, sure, but more than anything the other side had thrown a fit that someone just walked to their door and told them to pack the little girls things immediately. I'm guessing grandma is a bitch.

Throughout the afternoon the day before and all morning of the next, movers and designers were in and out of the house to decorate and set up a room for a young child. Since I wasn't interested in talking to these many people in my house, I stayed downstairs and took apart the new Mark for hardware upgrades. Did it really need newer wiring? No, it wasn't even that old – but it couldn't hurt to have fresh, top of the line stuff.

Pepper had reactivated her PA status for a week. I definitely needed it, what with my complete lack of knowledge with children and she had at least something. I'm sure she had babysat in high school or whatever. I didn't even see cousins much less anyone younger than me that wasn't in school with me.

She brought down some sandwiches for lunch and forced me to remove myself from the armor. It was much more fun for me to hide within it and act like nothing was going on anyway. Sure, there were designers upstairs that I was paying 5 figures by the hour and designer furniture going into a room for a 5 year old, but I just had to convince myself that it was all for good cause – otherwise I wouldn't have let anyone else in here.

"You probably should be more interested in the set up for your own child, Tony."

"Yeah, about that." Out of the shell of the suit's torso I came, lit and magnifying goggles on that I'm sure made me look like an idiot. "You're better with the whole girl and kid thing. You do whatever you think looks good; I'll just hand over the credit card. I should get used to that early, I'm told."

Both of us plopped on the nice couch in the corner and ate our sandwiches. After being chided about how dirty I was and forced to wash my hands, I mean. Then I ate my sandwich.

"What do you think she'll be like, Potts?"

"Let's see. Stubborn, loud, unwilling to ask or take help….but sweet and adorable, especially when sleeping or injured in some way."

"Oh ha ha, Pepper."

"You know what they say, Tony. People who were bad kids end up raising themselves."

"I wasn't a bad kid!"

"You aren't a bad kid now?"

"Depends on what you call kid." I mumbled, quickly turning and grabbing a piece of my sandwich so I could relocate. I had an idea of what I could do to help for the coming of a young child. Particularly one that probably didn't speak much English. I thought I remembered her mother having a horrible accent. Well, really, all Russian models had a really bad accent. So, more than likely, she probably didn't teach her child much English.

"Jarvis, let's look into a Russian translator for you. I'll be surprised if Emily will understand anything going on, much less anything we say. Oh! Pepper. While I'm at it, get Natashatalie to come tomorrow. She'll do well as a transitioner. Hell, get her a room here. It'll be better to have a young woman speaking Russian to a small child than a robot from the ceiling, huh." My mind was running a mile a minute. I could see a program in bloom in my head. A program created to help her learn more and more English by talking to Jarvis. He would start with straight Russian and add English over time. He would not be the only one. I had thought of schooling, tutors.

Holy shit, I'm starting to act like a parent.

But I haven't even met the damn kid.

The hours went by quickly, and I found myself waking up the next day. Pepper had decided to not stay after dinner the night before. I wish she had. I didn't sleep at all. What would the next day hold? The horrendous ideas kept coming. That she would hate me, or spend days screaming crying for her home and her dead family. That she would refuse to eat, or refuse to acknowledge me. Sure, I didn't expect her to come bounding into my arms and call me Daddy - …did I seriously want that right now? – but I didn't want her to outright refuse me.

My 7am wake-up call didn't even wake me. At 6 I was already bathed, dressed, and downstairs working on the programming within Jarvis. I still hadn't decided on my dress, so I just stayed in nothing but sweats pants and slicked hair. What do I do – dress nicely to meet a woman that doesn't like me, or dress comfortably to make myself more common in front of my child?

Best bet was to be as nice as possible to an old biddy with a probable hatred against my every fiber. I'm sure she blamed her beautiful daughter's death on my need to sow my billionaire seed.

It would take a little longer and a diverse dictionary to make the change in Jarvis complete, and a little time for diagnostics. Maybe I should bring in Natashatalie to test it later.

Once upstairs in my bathroom, I stared into the mirror. The face in the mirror wasn't a father. The face in the mirror was a guy who looked blazed out of his skull from insomnia and a few too many shots the night before. I tried to enjoy my night before I had to change my life. But now I looked like the man I saw in the mirror before Afghanistan. A 30-something drunkard wasting away in expensive booze and loose women.

I couldn't be that anymore. I had to be a good man to Pepper, a better man as a peacekeeper, and the best man as a father. The world would shift on it's head, and I had to stand at the ready for when it turned itself upside down on top of me.

Though I knew better, I told myself I was ready to try to hold on as it toppled.

Happy came knocking at 7:45, and I was standing there waiting. Hair slick, large sunglasses, and a purple dress shirt with pinstriped suit. I looked quite good if I do say so myself, and probably a little too good to be meeting a dying Russian woman. As I climbed into the limo, there in the seat I saw Pepper, smiling up at me with a hint of sadness in her face. She as always looked fantastic, and I decided to reward her with a few sizzling kisses on her open neck and jaw line as the door outside shut. I knew something was wrong when she was stiff as a board, and I heard a grunting noise from the other side of the car.

Oh, yeah, Natashatalie. She wasn't exactly enjoying our tender moment. If it had been any other circumstance, I would have played it up more. That's just the kind of ass I am.

"Good morning to you too Miss Rushman. Or have you acquired another name since we last spoke?"

"Good morning, Mr. Stark." She grumbled. She seemed so happy to be in my presence again. She loved me; I could feel her tearing my clothes away with her eyes. If I wasn't a taken man, I might even poke at her a little. But this wasn't the time for sexual banter with another employee.

It only took a few minutes to reach the air strip that was privately kept for people like me. As it was, the jet emblazoned with my logo was landing. Something was forcing my heart rate up. I fought men who tried desperately to kill me and I was frightened then. I hadn't been this nervous in years. Why? What could possibly end badly?

We three piled out of the limo as the jet came to a stop and the door opened up for the staff to put the staircase to it. First came one of the attendants with some small luggage that seemed tattered and not at all what I would have expected to be luggage for a 5 year old girl.

A few more attendants later, and an old, wrinkled woman came out holding her hand down to a mop of black hair stuck to a stick. At least that's what I saw at first. It took me a few moments to realize – that was her. That stick figure with black curls was my daughter.

I was horribly stunned.

She looked nothing like the picture I had seen of her only a year prior. Sure, kids grow up quickly from year to year, especially youngsters, but she looked so frail and unhappy. Both of them did. As they came to the bottom of the steps and stood before me, I'd be surprised if they couldn't see the shock on my face. I'd be surprised if Pepper didn't look similar to me either.

For a moment, both groups just stared at each other. The girl hid herself behind her grandmother's frail and thin leg while staring at us all. She looked about ready to cry. The woman herself looked steady, strong, and above all, grumpy that she was here in the first place.

The first to speak was Natashatalie. Damn that name is long. She needed a new name, but besides that. She started up a conversation with the gruff old woman, sounding soft and sincere. The woman spit back answers like what questions she was asked had answers like acid. I was curious as to the answers.

"Madame says that if she didn't have to involve you, things would have been better. But her daughter was driven insane by your forced pregnancy."

"You're fucking kidding me, right?"

"Tony!" Pepper whacked me on the shoulder with an angry look boring into the side of my face.

"What, you act like she can understand me."

Okay, so my bad. But I wasn't going to own up to it.

"Madame says she wishes a better man would have taken up on her daughter's affections, but she knows you'll take care of her granddaughter."

"Ask her…why she's so frail."

Odd words later –

"Ilya was too fat for work as a model. So, in her mind, so was her daughter."

"She starved her own kid."

"…Yes."

Okay, now I was justified in cursing out loud. Who knew how dehydrated or how badly she had malnutrition issues. Sure, that could all be fixed, but I didn't expect to be given a very sickly child.

"She needs to go to a hospital then, Tony! Who knows how sick she really is." Pepper had already hit full maternal mode. All women had it. I wondered how long that would take.

"I agree. Happy, car." I called.

As I turned around to go back towards the car, I finally heard her speak. A small, hard sound with a wavering voice.

"Nyet!"

As I turned back around, I saw something that I never expected to hit me as hard as it did. The little girl was sobbing. Emilia was sobbing.

My daughter Emily was sobbing.

Natashatalie was quick to ask questions it sounded like, and the woman tried to comfort the small girl but she wasn't interested. They all talked and talked and talked and no one other than the three of them. I didn't know what to do. I was so conflicted. Thisismydaughtershe'scryingIhavetofixit. Oh god. A full 180 seconds in front of this girl and I was already severely connected. Something about her was pulling me to her. Maybe it was how much she seemed to look like my mother, minus the blue eyes.

Without any English words, the old woman passed the girl over to Natashatalie and cried a few tears herself. The girl kept yelling what I knew was the Russian word for no, but the old woman made no pass to take her back. She even went to the degree of standing and walking back into the jet and leaving the young girl all alone with the three of us.

The Russian spy woman held her and tried to calm her down with soft words, but she didn't stop crying. A few minutes later, the dark redhead stood and carried the girl over to the limo and climbed in, stroking her back and still talking to her. Pepper and I took that as our cue to follow, and I instructed Happy to take us to the closest Stark-funded hospital. I didn't need the press to get wind of my illegitimate child so early.

The luggage she brought would go straight to the house and the staff would place it in her new bedroom. Where she wanted everything to go would be decided after she saw an American doctor.

"What's the problem, anyway?" I asked quietly, curious but not wanting to stir anything.

"She's never not been with her mother or grandmother before."

That could mean so many different things in the future.

I want to go on to the hospital scene, but I thought that would be enough deep pain for the night.