Welcome back! No earth-shattering changes to anything previously posted, so just this new chapter! Yay!

On another note, I feel this is the first time this particular note is important: Tony, in this story, is a Sentinel; Heather is his Guide. Some readers may have picked up on the couple hints I've already dropped. I never watched the show; I have read some fan fics that use the theory, and probably more in line with the show's canon. I have my own headcanon for this; bear with me. I'll be explaining it in story as it becomes more relevant. Which may not be for a while. It was more prevalent in my first ideas for this story, and I'm not sure how many of the details are going to come into play.

Song lyrics will be presented as "*Song lyrics*" Feel free to sing along. I did as I wrote it. And the character does too. Sorry for the earworm...

Originally posted: 19 Feb 2022

Most recent update: 17 Apr 2022

Before 7AM on Wednesday morning, two near-zombies shuffled slowly into Stark Industries. Tony, who had forgone his morning workout, looked far more alert than he felt; Heather was barely able to stay on her feet, and her emerald orbs only just blinked to half-open. He dragged her over to the elevator, both of them nearly tripping over particles of dust, and kept his arm around her waist until the elevator doors opened. As the lift rose, her eyes glazed over, and she stared blankly at the wall. "Audit the company," she mumbled.

Tony startled. "What'd you say, Gem?"

"You need to audit the company," she repeated distractedly as the doors opened on their floor. He flipped the switch from 'run' to 'hold'. "Weapons gone missing. Someone is making a power play. The ones you've trusted can most easily betray you."

He froze. He'd seen Rhodey go down the rabbit hole before; his face, every time it happened, looked eerily similar to Heather's right now. Was it possible – was his soulmate also his Guide? He grabbed her hand and squeezed it; she didn't react, not even a twitch. He sighed. She was too close to Wonderland to come back to herself easily, especially if, as he expected, she'd never knowingly experienced it before.

He gently leaned her head back to stare into her unfocused eyes. Taking a deep breath, he allowed his mind to wander into the spirit plane. Almost as soon as he 'arrived,' his three-tailed fox wove her way around his legs, and he scratched behind Roxie's ears. He heard a sniff behind him, and he turned, finding himself face-to-face with Prongs in all his antlered glory. "So her happy thoughts call you out when necessary," he mused aloud. Prongs rolled his eyes and motioned with his head. Tony and Roxie followed the stag without hesitation, knowing how easy it was for an untrained sensitive to get lost in the spirit world. Soft mutterings caught his ear, and, upon recognizing Heather's voice, the human pushed past the phantoms to find–

Heather was speaking gently to two other spirit animals – a Bengal tiger and a dog that looked like a short-haired German Shepherd; it was a breed he didn't recognize.

Tony blinked. He looked down at Roxie, who looked as utterly bewildered as he did, and then at Prongs, who seemed to be laughing at him. "Oh, joy," he muttered sarcastically, loudly enough that the spiritually-misplaced teen could hear. "I've always wanted to be the butt of a joke in these parts."

"Tony?" His little soulmate stared up at him, absolutely adorable in her confusion. "What are you doing here? Where are we? Can you get us out of here? I kept trying on my own, but I just got even more lost. And then, Rocky tripped me, and Ginger laid down on my legs, and Prongs walked off – oh, there you are, Prongs!"

Tony lowered his face into his hand. "Yeah, you definitely need three spirit animals."

"So, you've met Dad; he learned how to be an Animagus for Remus, who's a werewolf. Did I tell you that?" she rambled on obliviously, gesturing toward the stag. It lowered its head in acknowledgment. He pressed his hand to the deer's flank; black-furred Roxie rose up on her back legs, using her tails for balance, to greet him in her own exuberant manner. "This is Mum," Heather said, petting the tiger. "Professor Lupin said that Dad used to call her his tiger lily when she was angry at him, which was, like, always, but he and Siri called her Ginger when they saw her mad, and Ginger seems to fit better." The tiger lifted her head and snuffled in agreement. Turning her attention to the dog, she went on, "And this is Rocky. He's a Belgian Malinois, and he's gorgeous. He was the first friend I ever had, even before Hedwig. I love Hedwig, don't get me wrong, but I think Dumbledore did something to her so that he can read my mail first. I've seen some smudges on some letters that the sender definitely wouldn't have left. I think Rocky would take a bite out of his arse, if they ever actually met," she giggled.

Roxie made her way to the other spirit animals and greeted them just as enthusiastically. "That little green-eyed troublemaker is a kitsune I named Roxie," he smirked. "And now that I'm piecing it together, she's the perfect representation of you. Rocky is probably the animal version of me. People aren't usually aware of the spirit world, but their animal forms have frolicked together in the fields here so often that they feel like they've 'known each other forever.' You wanna get out of here, babe? I can get us back to the physical world, but just you and me. The animals aren't supposed to leave this place too often."

"Can we come back and see them?" Heather asked wistfully.

"Uh… We'll figure that out another day." Honestly, the answer was 'no.' The spirit world wasn't safe for them. He didn't want to explain that in here, though; if his experiences helping Rhodey, and having Rhodey help him, were the norm, she wouldn't consciously remember this trip. He held out his hand, and she took it with a smile. Concentrating, he pulled himself back into his body, and then easily coaxed her back to full awareness. Or what passed for full awareness in a still-healing teenager who'd been awoken before dawn and dragged out of the house without breakfast or coffee. He blinked to remoisten his eyes. "Gemstone? You with me?"

"Yeah," she replied woozily, shaking and rubbing her head with a yawn. "What… happened? Did I fall asleep standing up?"

"Not exactly," he hedged, squeezing her hand. "Can I explain later?" She yawned again as he led her through the abandoned hall to his office, babbling, "I don't think it'll ever happen around anyone you can't trust completely, whether or not I'm there. I've never known Rhodey to, at any rate. After we've dealt with the contract, and the Goblins, and any money and properties you have in Britain, and probably a dozen other things I can't think of right now, I'll ask him. Actually, I should probably bump it up the list – get him to train you. Hmm, that's actually sounding better and better, if I do say so – why are you laughing at me?"

"We've walked through here twice already," Heather told him, unable to hold back her amusement. "I noticed the fake beach scene on the wall in that office. I think I saw your name on a door over there." He smirked at his own expense, too tired to come up with a retort, and led her to his office, unlocking it and turning on the lights without thought. "Tony?" she asked nervously from the doorway.

"Do I really have to invite you in, Nosferatu?" he snarked as he dropped into his chair. When her anxiety didn't lessen as she sat across from him, he sobered. "What's on your mind, kitten?"

"You have a job," she stated, trying to get her thoughts in order. "I'm 14. I can't work yet – not legally, anyway. And I haven't had a maths class or a science lesson in four years."

Tony went still in a way that, she was beginning to recognize, meant something she'd said or done had angered him, but she wasn't the target. "…We're gonna have to get the government involved, aren't we?" he groaned.

"Why?"

"The only people who can enroll you in school are your legal guardians," he explained. "And we'd also have to decide if you're going to magic school or not."

"Not," she answered immediately, to his surprise. "Magical schools are boarding schools, and our soul bond won't like us being apart like that. Plus, considering how far outside the fourth-year curriculum I went to survive the Tournament, I could set up to take my OWLs and NEWTs later today, even for the subjects I didn't take, and the only subject I'm not certain about passing is Potions, and that's because I don't know how much is my poor brewing skills, and how much is the Slytherins and Snape sabotaging me."

"Don't remind me about that greaseball," he snarled. "He should be arrested for child abuse.

"Dumbledore trusts him," she simpered sardonically. "And what Dumbledore says, goes. *Whatever Dumbles wants,*" she sang darkly, "*Dumbles gets. And little man, little Dumbles, wants you* – to do exactly as he says without thought or complaint."

He grinned. "Ooh, sassy. I have high hopes for you." He met her eyes, considering. "Okay, so we need to figure out your current guardianship, just in case magical emancipation, as I expect, doesn't count in the non-magical world. Actual school or home-schooling?"

"I'd rather not be a 15-year-old in class with 11-year-olds, if possible," she replied drolly.

"Tutors, it is." A random thought crossed his mind. "Do you think there might be some… I don't like the word 'Muggle' … some Muggleborns with normal qualifications that could also help you with Potions, if necessary?"

A knock sounded on the door, and he glanced over to see Cindy walking in. "This is a funny looking Monday, Mr Stark," she quipped, eying the teen curiously.

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, something came up, and, for a nice change of pace, no hormones were involved. Cindy Lou Who, this is Heather Potter," he said, indicating the teen proudly. "She's fourteen. Not my daughter. Why she's here is… complicated, but she's here to stay. And suffice it to say, she had some medical issues that had to be addressed."

Something clicked for the woman. "There was no design binge, was there?"

"Of course, there was!" he proclaimed in mock outrage. "Every moment she was unconscious, I was designing the most devious revenge." His eyes flashed with fire as he added with relish, "It'll be magical." Heather smirked, clearing her throat. "Right. Gemstone, this is Cynthia Butler, my P.A."

The girl smiled politely at the woman, then turned back to him in bewilderment. "Your what?"

"Personal assistant," he elaborated. When that did nothing to help her understand, he added, "My life manager – she keeps track of everything I've agreed to do, like fundraisers, and she reminds me of paperwork that's due and meetings that I have to be at… Speaking of meetings, you wanted to talk to me?"

She looked at the teen. "I'd prefer to speak to you privately, Mr Stark."

"Cindy–"

"It's fine, Tony," Heather cut in before he could get too offended on her behalf. "I'm awake enough now that I can find my way back. Besides, I'm pretty sure you need coffee, too. I'll go get us some breakfast. If you'll tell me where to go, that is."

He stared at his soulmate, carefully keeping his expression neutral. Heather was a teenager; by necessity, she'd been independent for years; she'd faced, and survived, more dangerous situations than Malibu's traffic; she wasn't accustomed to having someone worry about her – they both knew all that. It didn't change how little he liked the idea of her going out on her own, how uneasy he felt at the thought of letting her out of his sight, how uncomfortable she looked at having voiced the suggestion. But they also knew that it was the most pragmatic solution.

With a sigh, he capitulated, pulling out his wallet and handing her $40. As she reached for the bills, he added his condition: "Someone from Security goes with you. This has nothing to do with trusting you," he said over her automatic protest. "First of all, you need a security pass, anyway – all-access and what-not, and getting it done now makes everyone's lives easier. Second, competitors and enemies would have no problem using you to get to me." When her eyes darkened, he knew she'd understood; she was likely equating it to her own experience with the Tournament. "And third, they can serve as your tour guide so you don't somehow end up at Hammer Industries." He spat the location like it was poison in his mouth.

"I'll buy that last one," she grumbled good-naturedly.

Seconds after he called, one of the security guards came as requested to get her security pass started. It wasn't Hogan; Tony remembered belatedly that he was on a well-deserved vacation, a 10-day cruise with his current girlfriend in the Mediterranean. When the door closed behind Russell – at least, that's who he thought it was; he always had trouble telling him and Lloyd apart when they weren't together – and a tensing Heather, he turned his piercing gaze back on his P.A. "I get that you want privacy," he asseverated as calmly as he could. "But unless it's a security risk, don't ask me to send her away again. Even then, I'd rather give her a Walk-Man, a cassette of loud music, and a book to read. You don't know what that cost me, letting her leave without me."

"That sounds a bit like obsession," Cindy pointed out in concern. "And that's not healthy for either of you."

His sneer was epic in its rarity. "Your observation is noted and duly ignored." Taking a deep breath, he pushed aside his agitation. "The floor is yours, Mrs Butler."

Something, possibly regret, flashed through her eyes as she steeled herself. "I've been your P.A. for two years, Tony. I was Obadiah's for seven years, and with the company in various roles for twenty-some years before that. Paul's health is deteriorating. With your erratic schedule, I rarely see my grandbabies. I'm looking to retire sometime soon."

Twenty seconds of absolute silence later, he smirked. "You've been practicing that little speech for a while, now, haven't you?"

She laughed, admitting, "All year."

He sighed. "Have you already started looking for your replacement?"

She shook her head. "I didn't know what requirements you might have beyond 'gorgeous female.'"

While he didn't react outwardly to that assessment beyond a half-hearted shrug of agreement, he cringed mentally. Before Heather crashed into his life, that would have been his primary consideration. "My biggest concern is that this person will be replacing you," he flattered the woman, "the most competent person I know. Male or female, doesn't matter, but there are physical considerations to take into account, if the candidate is male. He can't be fat, and he can't be a blonde guy who spends too much – time, money, or worse, both – on his hair and smile." He hesitated for half a second, unsettled by revealing this private information without his soulmate's knowledge. "And it's not because I'm being shallow or superficial. Heather was abused by her walrus-sized uncle, and molested by a teacher who – well, I just described him." Cindy paled more with every word of his explanation. "Yeah, hence my very specific design binge." He thought for a moment. "Heather's gotta get along with them, too. They gotta be competent, though I assume you had planned on that." They shared a grin. "They gotta know when to take my shit, when to call me out on it, and when to shove my face in it."

"Can't spook easily at explosions or unexpected loud noises," the woman tacked on. "Must make a decent cup of joe."

"And tea," Tony chimed in. "Kid's a Brit, through and through. Remind me to buy some tea, later. Poor thing's been suffering with coffee since she got here."

Cindy nodded, making a mental note. "Asking seriously, Mr Stark – do you have a preference for gender? Do you think Heather would be more comfortable dealing with a woman?"

"Her aunt hit her, too," he divulged with a sigh. "I think, no matter who it is, it'll take a while for her to be anything other than unfailingly, Britishly polite, or to trust them for more than my sake." He rubbed his eyes. "Rhodey stopped by on Saturday to celebrate his promotion to First Lieutenant. The three of us went out for dinner. She didn't even want to sit next to him in the car, all because he startled her when he walked in, three hours before. They both agreed on that point. She dealt with him solely for me."

The woman's head bobbed again. "So her comfort with them is even more important to you than their competence."

"Yeah, and one other thing," Tony added. "This is a request, Cindy Lou. I want you to train them. You can teach them how to do the most difficult part of the job."

"Is that dealing with you, or making sure you do your paperwork?" she teased pointedly as she made her way back to her desk.

"Spoilsport," he called through the door. Her laughter cut off as the portal latched. Leaning back in his chair, he glared at the mountain of paper sitting in his inbox. "I guess I should actually start signing off on this shit," he muttered to himself as he picked up a pen.

He'd been hard at work for a little more than half an hour when Cindy knocked and opened the door for Heather, who had a bag of food swinging from one hand and a tray with four paper cups balanced on the other. "Here," the girl said, passing one of the cups to his assistant. "Lloyd ordered for you, so if it's not right, I apologize."

Not much surprised his P.A. This simple act of thoughtfulness managed to do so. "Thank you, Miss Potter."

Tony dropped his pen and raised an eyebrow. "Did I tell you to buy her coffee?" he asked seriously.

Heather faltered. "No, sir." Cindy's glare burned him.

"Then I'm glad and grateful that you thought of it for me," he grinned charmingly, and both women sighed in relief. He would have to remember that Heather was still getting used to him and couldn't always pick out his teasing, especially if he sounded even slightly disapproving or angry. "Almost as much as I am to see three cups left for the two of us." The teen giggled. "Come on, pull up a seat. I've got a couple more things to sign off on, but you don't have to wait for me to start eating."

"Oh, Mr Stark," Cindy recalled just before the door shut. Gulping down some coffee, he made a suitably inquisitive sound. "Mr Stane will be stopping by to see you in about three hours. He'll be bringing pizza."

Choking on his drink, he quickly nodded in acknowledgement. When the door latched, he groaned, "Fuck. Not who I wanted to encounter today."

Heather wrapped her arms around his neck, and their remaining tension melted away. "He seemed a bit of a git," she whispered, "when you rang him the other day."

"More than a bit, sometimes," he agreed just as quietly, pulling her onto his lap. "And he's gonna be pissed when he gets here – I blew him off on Monday to stay with you. No, don't," he muttered when she stiffened. "I told you, you come first." They stayed like that for a moment, his hand finding its way to her scalp, then he shrugged. "Okay, so, we gotta work on this separation anxiety thing we seem to have acquired."