Author's Note: Here's another one-shot to tide you all over until I have enough energy to write another chapter for "I Dream Things..." I started work at a summer camp this week and things have been crazy (good, but crazy). Anyway, I wanted to write Christy bonding with the other Avengers, and this was the first idea that came to mind. It's probably a little rough, 'cause I'm slightly exhausted, but I wanted to write something. I hope you enjoy.
The title comes from some old math problems I used to do in school ('some, and then some more' meant addition).
Review, Favorite, Follow. (These things make the author very happy and likely to write more, quicker!)
Chapter Three: Some, And Then Some More
"Uncle Tony? Can you help me?"
Tony Stark was, as usual, highly absorbed in advanced mechanics and technology. Bruce, who would have heard the inquiry, was out of the lab at the moment.
Christy sighed. She was willing to wait, but she really needed to finish, so drastic measures were needed.
"Jarvis? Can you get him?"
"Sir, I believe you have a visitor." Jarvis said coolly.
"Yeah, yeah; one second, J. Hey could you…"
"Sir, the visitor is Miss Rogers."
"Wait, who…" Tony spun around, becoming aware of Christy for the first time. "Jarvis, there's a kid in my lab. Why did you let a kid in my lab?"
"Sir, she has a question for you." the AI replied, sidestepping Tony's question entirely (in a manner not much different than its creator).
"Yeah, but why…" Christy started to face the door.
"It's okay, Uncle Tony, I'll ask Dad. You're too busy."
Immediately, Tony felt like kicking himself. All his life, he'd sworn that if he ever did end up having children, he would never treat them the way his father had treated him. Now was his chance to actually make good on that vow, and he was blowing it spectacularly.
"Wait, kid; it's okay. I'm…actually not that busy. What's up?"
Christy inched closer. "I don't understand my math homework."
Tony snorted. "I seriously doubt that. All Steve does is go on and on about how smart you are."
"Yeah, but I don't like math. It's boring. It's just a bunch of numbers and nothing makes sense!"
Tony sighed. "Okay, lemme see."
Christy held out her math worksheet. "Here, it's word problems and I hate word problems."
"You just said you didn't like math because it's a bunch of numbers…"
"Yeah, but if I have to do math, then I wanna just have numbers, not fake stories. It's like a trick."
She sounded so insulted that Tony snorted. "Okay, fair enough. First problem… 'Jill broke 111 eggs…' okay, I see where you're coming from, kid, that's ridiculous, who breaks 111 eggs exactly?"
"That's what I said!"
"Okay, okay… 'Robert broke 28 more eggs than Jill…' seriously, who's watching these kids? 'How many eggs did they break in all?'"
Christy looked at the sheet. "28 plus 111 is…" she started to write the problem down. Tony shook his head.
"No, do it in your head."
"But I can't!"
"Yes you can. Shut your eyes and picture the numbers. Do you see it?"
"Yeah…"
"What's one plus eight?"
"Nine."
"What's one plus two?"
"Three."
"And one plus zero is one, obviously. One, three, nine, what number is that?"
"One…thirty-nine?"
"Bingo. That's how many eggs the second kid broke. Idiot. Anyway, the first kid broke 111 eggs. So what do you do?"
"Add 111 and 139? Can I do it on paper?"
"Kid, you're not always gonna have paper. If you can do math in your head, it'll make things simpler and save on paper space. Now, what's one and nine?"
"Ten. So carry the one?"
"Yup, but put a zero down. Then, three plus one plus the one you carried makes…?"
"Five…?"
"And one plus one is…?"
"Two! I know that one!"
"What number is two, five, zero."
"Two hundred…fifty."
"So, that's your answer. 250 eggs."
Christy glanced at the paper. "We're supposed to show our work…"
"What?!" Tony looked where Christy was pointing to the instructions on the sheet. "That is ridiculous; I just showed that you can do it in your head. Ugh, low expectations are so annoying. Alright, write it down, just how we did it. What's the next problem?"
They worked their way steadily through Christy's homework sheet. It was actually…sort of nice, Tony decided. He hadn't gotten to spend much one-on-one time with the kid, so this was a chance to observe her without Steve hovering around.
She was definitely smart, though probably not genius level. But it was a different kind of smart than what he was used to.
"So kid, how come you don't like math?" he asked, as they finished the last problem.
She cocked her head. "How come you do?"
"It…solves problems."
"Uh-huh…"
"There's…look, there's beauty in just being able to take a formula, a pattern, put numbers in it, and have everything figured out!"
Christy nodded slowly. "Okay…but what about the stuff you can't put in a pattern. Like words and feelings and…stuff in here." she tapped her chest.
Tony sighed. "Uh, dunno if you noticed, kid, but…I'm not exactly too good with all that mushy feelings stuff."
"So numbers are safer? Because you're not good with words?"
"Words are fine, it's…"
"Words that matter?"
She had him. He sighed again. For some strange reason, he couldn't lie to this kid. He blamed it on her puppy-dog eyes. It was like Steve on steroids, multiplied by 100 points of adorable.
"Yeah, something like that. Words that actually matter…I have to focus to say them, like you had to focus to do math in your head."
Christy nodded. "So you tell me the numbers and I'll tell you the words. And we'll both get better."
Tony opened his mouth to say that it was alright, that he really didn't need to get better; that he was perfectly fine operating the way he did. He didn't need words and feelings and…mushy stuff.
They were complicated and (dare he admit it?) scary.
Numbers were predictable and orderly. Words…words were slippery things with layers. And in the moments he'd most needed them, he'd never been able to grab them.
But there sat Christy with a face that clearly stated she wasn't taking no for an answer.
Maybe it was the way she called him 'Uncle Tony,' with no hesitation. Maybe it was how she insisted on making everyone else feel better, when her life had certainly been no picnic.
Or maybe it was just that she had big, blue, puppy-dog eyes.
But Tony found himself saying:
"Okay. Sure. We can do that."
Christy smiled and threw her arms around him in a giant hug. And he didn't even pull away.
It was then that Tony began to suspect that sometimes, you didn't need words or numbers to solve some problems.
You didn't even need to be a genius.
