The prince grows,

From infant to child,

Whilst the King's

Second in command

Spoils and indulges.

Obadiah's POV, Tony an Infant

I'm 2nd in charge of one of the biggest tech/war companies in the world. As a child, I'd played war with friends, devising ways to destroy the Nazis. Dad and a couple uncles were in WWII. At first, I was loyal to America. All, Rah! Rah! The American flag. At the start of Captain America's reign I'd been young enough to still play make believe, pretending I was the All American Hero, with an American flag shield. But, within a few short months, I went from 11 to 12 and that make believe took more of a focus on the dancing ladies by Cap's side. And along with Captain America, there was Stark Industries and Howard Stark, the great industrialist who was making and selling goods for the military.

I wasn't without muscle. Hell, I was bulky. But I was from Celtic stock, built for swinging broad swords in times past, great at slamming into jocks on the field of football in modern day. I wasn't, and never would be, lean and ripped. Girls may swoon over a guy in uniform, but all too often those guys got planted in the ground or left to decay on a battlefield.

Mr. Stark, on the other hand, had found a way to have money, women, and a long life. Much preferable to picking up a rifle and marching onto a battlefield.

Business became my pursuit, with an aim for the tippy-top, where the bundles of cash attracted the skimpily clad women, no matter your age.

By 1955 I'd earned a degree in business. I may have started out on the bottom rung, but I pushed my way hard, and fast up through the ranks of S.I. and by 1967, I was Howard's go to guy to wheel and deal for the multi-national conglomerate.

3 years later, Stark junior came along. A man of Howard's age wasn't supposed to be bearing children. The man had already surpassed 50. Suddenly, the kingdom I'd hoped to inherit had a prince.

The kid was cute. Cameras love babies. Cameras love Maria and Howard. The tabloids were covered with photos of the Starks. The estrogen dripping women, and even the testosterone leaking men were drawn to the images, subliminally reminding them to buy Stark products. The company's bottom line had definitely taken a boost since the kid's birth.

I officially became the kid's godfather. Not that I know what the hell that means. I'd been brought up Lutheran but had given up church going the moment I didn't have a nagging mother and an overbearing father insisting I sit in the pews every Sunday. Far as I knew, Howard hadn't stepped inside a religious facility in decades, other than for his nuptials to Maria and the Christening of their son. I think the whole thing was Maria's idea, a Catholic girl that still attended mass now and then.

I held the kid for all of 2 minutes while the priest splashed water on his head and made him cry. Maria reclaimed him from my arms, thank God.

The kid was cute, and that was good for business. But in between being cute, he was like any infant, leaking fluids from every hole available as often as his body could manage to produce piss, drool, tears… or other things. Praise the Lord for keeping me a single man with a strong knowledge of contraceptives.

Obie's POV, Tony, Age 3

The kid was coming along. He didn't leak from every orifice anymore. My godfatherly duties mostly consisted of shopping while traveling…picking up a toy plane at the airport, buying a beignet in New Orleans, or candy from Japan, or whatever sweet or trinket that was available in the shops of the cities where I had S.I. business.

But sometimes he wanted more from me. He'd grab my hand and drag me over to see whatever he'd assembled that day.

"See Obie! I gave it a motor!" And I'd watch as the Lego car attached to a nine-volt battery zoomed down granite floors, pass museum quality art. It would be incongruitous in any other household; here, it was like Howard suddenly shrunk down to toddler size.

It was evident that the prince wasn't to be a pompous snit, willing to wallow in daddy's money with never putting in an ounce of effort of work. Contrary to that, I observed my godchild coming to the office as young as 3, not just to mimic Howard, but to learn and work. Tony was like a high-powered vacuum that sucked up knowledge instead of dirt, but instead of just putting the gathered dirt in the trash to be forgotten, like most people do with knowledge, the tot applied what he learned to modify and create tech.

Obie's POV, Tony, Age 4

Holy crap, he'd done it. The kid was only 4 and he'd designed a computer motherboard that was better than anything S.I.'s college graduates had designed. Better than any computer Howard had designed. At age four.

I hadn't thought much of Howard bringing Tony to work with him, had bitched plenty (out of earshot of Howard) about government codes and regulations and work time loss due to Howard playing with his son in the lab rather than attending meetings, but damn was it paying off! Stark Industries was raking in the dough. Tony was our little, golden, gooseling.

Obie's POV, Tony, Age 5

I'd come back from another oversees venture where I'd made the mistake of purchasing Monopoly. The art on the box was about the only difference from the standard, U.S. version.

It was a mistake because Monopoly was a multiplayer game and 4 year olds with puppy dog eyes have a way of 'gifting' your gift with insisting the gifter should get a chance to play the gift. Sigh.

But I wasn't alone in being convinced to play. The three of us, Howard, Tony and I sat down to play.

Thankfully, Howard had the brilliant idea to modify the monotonous cycling of the board.

Tony's POV

Dad rotated the board to the 4th side and started sketching a beach chair on the Park Place square. Each of the Avenues had a little symbol on it now… a dress, a gun, a pizza slice, a baseball bat and ball, and other stuff that can be bought and sold. I'd sketched a roller coaster on Boardwalk because that's the winners square, worth lots of money. We also discussed the prices of each of the items and wrote the cost next to the pictures we'd drawn.

I started to put my piece, the shoe, on Go.

"That's not the way we'll be playing this game, Anthony. Will you be a diversifier, or a dominator?"

"Huh?"

"You may pick. You may be a diversifier and begin with 3 properties of various colors or a dominator and start with all of only one color. The rent on the card will be your starting salary, which will be earned each time you pass your property."

"I want dark blue." Duh. They were the most expensive two spots.

Obie and Dad both chose to diversify, taking a card each from red, yellow, and green.

"People must first get to work. Place your piece on a railroad." I put mine on the side with dark blue so I'd get my starting pay from their rent, and paid again right away when I passed them.

Then we began. I collected my money for passing Park Place and Boardwalk and landed on Baltic Avenue and bought it.

Dad landed on St. James Place. He didn't have the funds to buy it, but since he landed there he had to buy a coffee mug, since that was the picture one of us had drawn on that square. Dad paid $3 for the coffee, then scratched out the price of the business and added $3 to it. "The company's value has just gone up."

Then Obie interjected, "And, since you can't afford to buy St. James Place, Anthony and I now have the opportunity to purchase it through silent auction, high bidder wins."

Howard's POV

We played until Marie insisted Anthony depart for bed and the whole mess was cleared up by one of the house servants without any of us fully tallying who was richest.

Though I felt I was. It was rare for me spend time with my boy on something that wasn't tech.

I raised my whiskey, tapped it to Obie's, "Money can't buy a second of time with the ones you love."

Obie's POV, Tony, just before Iron Man

But it can buy you a kingdom.

I hung up the phone with a grim smile, plans put in motion.