A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, guys x3 Writing this, I realized I spent an awful lotta time thinking about characters' backstories, even if it's a minor one like in this chapter. I hope it's not boring to you or anything :') And yes, I definitely wanna show them interact with other characters.

"I am completely outnumbered," Tony mumbled, looking at his black chess figures, slightly agitated at how he let his pawns, bishops and queen get taken away so quickly.

"That's because you still think this is about getting somewhere fast," Jarvis told him, laughing. "But this game is just like life. It's not about the decisions you make and how fast you make them. It's about the right timing. You need to think ahead, Tony. Act wisely, not quickly. Make sure you get to the finish line when the timing's right. That's when you'll win."

Tony looked up at him. "I'm quite—"

"Impulsive. Yeah, I know." Jarvis smirked. "That's why I thought this game would be good for you. It might teach you a little bit about slowing down and thinking things through."

"All these years and you still haven't given up on me." Tony laughed and reached to the side of the couch, grabbing the guitar leaning there.

"You don't wanna finish the game?"

"I lost, Jarvis," Tony answered while he began to play a melody. "What's there to finish?"

Jarvis smirked as he leaned back in his chair and watched the young man he had grown to love like his own son. Tony Stark certainly wasn't the easiest person to deal with, but he wouldn't change a single thing about him. He loved that boy just the way he was. It saddened him sometimes that he was apparently more of a father to him than Howard ever was, but at the same time it made Jarvis happy to know that they shared this deep connection.

"Listen, I'm really grateful we get to perform here anytime we want, but I was really hoping you could get us to play SummerStage."

"I said I'd try, but even if it works out, you won't go home with a pocket full of cash. It's not the kind of festival you get paid much."

"Oh, c'mon," Tony said, chuckling. "I'm not doing this for the cash. I have more money than I can count. I just wanna play. I want the—"

"Attention."

"Yeah, but not just for me, y'know? Banner, Quill, Christine... They all deserve more than playing in this dive bar every week. No offense." He halted and ran his hands over the smooth body of the acoustic guitar, caressing it as he held it close to his body.

Things would have been a lot easier if he had a better relationship with his father. Stark Records, Inc. was the biggest record company in the country and it managed some of the world's biggest-selling artists. Tony knew that if Howard had taken them under his wings, they would have had their very first major gig by now. But that just wasn't how life had worked out for him.

Being one of Howard Stark's artists would have meant being controlled by him and by whatever he considered to be right. But his father was never right about anything he needed. He never had been. And he had never understood that. Because if he had, Howard had long figured out that the thing Tony really needed most from him was to be loved. Just to be loved. But instead he was judged. In his father's eyes, he was nothing more than condemned to failure.

So, Tony had chosen to become successful on his own very early on. He didn't need his father. He didn't need the numerous connections he had in the music business. He didn't need his money. He didn't need him to patronize him. And he certainly didn't need to hear Howard make a disdainful comment every time he failed. He had broken with his father to become his own man. He was in control of his choices because he was in control of the sources of influence that determined them, and he wasn't going to fail.

"I'll see what I can do," Jarvis told him, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Thanks." Tony started strumming a quick tempo, thinking of what to sing while his fingers wandered the strings. Then he stopped again as if something had hit him. "Hey, do you know this girl that works here? The–the redhead?"

Jarvis put his coffee mug down on the table, a slight smile forming at his lips. "I gave her this job, son. Of course I know who she is." His smile grew into a grin. "And here I was, beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with you."

"What?" Tony's head shot up and a look of surprise, then shock, crossed his eyes.

"She's smart. She's beautiful. She's sweet... It was only a matter of time until she'd catch your attention."

"Are you kidding?" Tony gave a soft laugh. "That girl is anything but sweet. She's sweet to look at, I give you that, but when she opens her mouth, she's downright unpleasant."

"She's feisty."

"She's arrogant."

"She's not—" Jarvis had to laugh at Tony's expression. He looked almost offended that there was someone out there who dared to stand up to him, a woman even. To Tony Stark, that must be considered blasphemy. It was hilarious. And Jarvis knew Tony would never be able to let this go now. Let her go. "If you can't stand her, why'd you ask about her?" Jarvis lips tipped up in a smirk.

Tony tried to ignore Jarvis' teasing remarks and his looks. It was just stupid. "Where's she coming from?" he asked, playing a few notes on his guitar to distract himself from the taunting he was sure wasn't going to stop now. Jarvis loved teasing him more than anyone.

"Jersey."

"No, I mean, does she have any famous parents or–or relatives?"

"You heard her sing, didn't you?" Jarvis' eyes lit up at once as he thought of the sound of Virginia's voice—a voice quite like no other.

"What do you know about her?"

"Dad's an artist," Jarvis said. "That painting right behind you is from him actually. Great guy. Very talented, but struggling. Girl never talks about her mother. Got an uncle in the city, who runs a store in Chelsea. Don't know much about him, but they seem to get along quite well."

Picking at his guitar, Tony knitted his eyebrows in thoughtful silence, wondering if Virginia's upbringing had anything to do with that slightly annoying attitude of hers.

"Please don't break that girl's heart, Tony," Jarvis spoke in a tone half jest, half earnest.

Tony laughed, and looked at him, smirking. "You got it all wrong, pal. I don't even like her. Would I have sex with her, though?" He ran his hand over his guitar appreciatively as if he was touching the smooth curves of a woman's body. "You bet! I mean have you seen her legs?" Tony tapped the body of his guitar with his ring. The loud noise made his fatherly friend jump in his seat, almost spilling his coffee. "Damn, J! Who wouldn't want those wrapped around his naked body while being balls deep inside her?"

"Me," Jarvis muttered, screwing up his face. "I wouldn't."

She was like a daughter to him, and he didn't want to be thinking of Virginia that way. It was gross.

Cackling, Tony strummed a chord and let it linger in the air. "You know, my mom really likes you."

"Yeah, I don't want your mother's legs wrapped around my naked body either," Jarvis responded. "We're just great friends."

"What do you want then, Jarvis?"

"I want you to find someone you can trust to love you... for you," he answered sincerely. "For who you really are."

Tony's eyes darted up quickly, impulsed by tentativeness as he searched for words.

"You are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for, Tony. I just hope there's someone special out there who makes you see that. And who makes you believe in love."

When Jarvis smiled gently at him, Tony's shoulders slumped in defeat and he sighed, turning his head away.

He feared love—loving someone and being loved in return. He feared it as much as he longed for it. Because he didn't even know what love truly was. What had he ever known about it except that it hurt? His parent's marriage had been over years before they decided to get a divorce, his father treating his mother with such a lack of respect and a great deal of shame that Tony questioned if they ever had been really in love. People around him cried more over their relationship struggles than they laughed tears of joy at the beauty of actually being in a relationship. Even the songs he performed with the band were more about the pain of losing love than the happiness of finding it.

About an hour before work, Pepper met up with one of her best friends. It had been a while since she'd last seen May. That woman was always busy, a bit of a workaholic, and she was also a mother, so there were days when she had to cancel their plans last minute.

Peter was fourteen now, a sweet kid with a big heart. May was going on thirty and had been raising her son all by herself, with a little help from her parents. Pepper didn't know how she did it. Life as a single, working mom had to be tough, yet she never complained about anything. Ever. May Parker was a real hero.

When she was seventeen, May had started an internship at a gallery, and because of her impressive work ethics, soon got to head up a fashion photography program. She barely finished high school, never went to college, and was only about twenty years old when she opened her own space.

She started out mounting seasonal art exhibitions, running four months each, that mirrored the energy of whatever season it was, and that was the beginning of a surprisingly successful career. Sometimes she showcased pieces of art that she had painted herself, but she loved being a collector even more.

Getting out and about, seeing some art and getting involved in a workshop or arty activity had always been more fulfilling to her than to spend an afternoon sitting on the sofa—only because it allowed her to take Peter with her, though. He was the one thing she really did love more than art.

As an art dealer, May could directly impact the lives of artists working and practicing around the world. And she got a thrill from finding up-and-coming artists, and just having a hunch that they were going to make it big. But she also invested in artists who were already established, especially since it gave her some sort of stability, definite income. After all, she had a kid's mouth to feed.

To find and identify artistic talent, May regularly attended shows, fairs and did online research. She did two or three studio visits every Friday during the gallery season, looking for artists to represent and develop, to include in group shows, or recommend to others. Occasionally, she asked Virginia to tag along.

What Virginia loved about art was the power to change her mood. An inspiring, hopeful or light-hearted, maybe unusual, piece was a great mood-lifter. It was a source of encouragement, or simply a piece to make her smile when pressure was building up. And then art could also be soothing or powerful, a real source of calm and energy—kind of like the different sounds of music. And just the way Virginia put on a great song to lift her mood, she had come to understand, and appreciate, how hanging selected pieces in her home could truly impact her daily mood.

The two women connected. Virginia was happy to have someone to talk to who had nothing to do with the music business, and shared her love for art. May was different than Natasha. She was older, more mature—like the big sister Virginia never had, and Virginia truly adored her. And she loved Peter, loved how that boy could make her smile even when she didn't want to. It was May's son who had made her realize that she absolutely wanted kids of her own some day. She didn't know if she would be a great mother since she never really had a mom, but the happiness and joy Peter brought to May's life every day was something Virginia aspired to have in the future.

"Sometimes, I'm still wondering if I'm doing the right thing," she mumbled, staring down.

"What do you mean?"

Virginia circled the coffee mug with both hands, gripping tight while she tried to find the right words. "I don't know, May... Sometimes I just feel like talent is overrated and what you really need is someone with influence."

"And money?"

She nodded.

How easy did it have to be for someone like Tony Stark to become a big name in the music industry, with a father as powerful and rich as Howard? That boy already was a big name before he had even released his first record.

"You don't think you can do it?"

"I know I can sing... And perform. I know I have what it takes to make it out there, it's just scary to do it all alone. Maybe should've put my main focus on business instead of—"

"Ginger... Babe... Do you love singing?"

Virginia looked at her friend, frowning. "Well, yes. More than anything."

"And do you love performing?"

"Uh, you mean apart from my stage fright? Yes, I do. You know I do. I love everything about it. It's my dream."

"Perfect," May said, smiling. "Because, honey, when you do what you love, everything falls into place. I simply followed conversations I had with artists and the ideas that excited us the most, and my gallery grew out of that. And now there's nothing more exciting to me than seeing an artist I fell in love with years ago, gracing the pages of a newspaper."

Cupping her hands around Virginia's, she stroked the back of them with her thumbs. "You know I take risks with this occupation I have, trusting my instincts and my eye, but it comes with a great reward." May reached up, her fingers pushing a strand of Virginia's hair back from her face. "And I feel the same way about you and your craft." She paused. "You will do great things one day, I'm sure."

Smiling, Virginia gave a soft sigh. "I love you," she said quietly. "Thanks."

"You can thank me with VIP tickets to your first sold-out tour," May quipped, making Virginia laugh.

"You're an idiot."

"But you love that about me, right? So, tell me, baby... What else is new?"

"Met Tony Stark."

"You what?"

"I swear it's like he's purposely following me around. Stalking me or something." She stared at the creamy liquid, and then looked back up. "He talked to me while I was finishing work, then the next day he walked over to me, trying to make conversation, and then I found him sleeping in the practice room. He wanted me to sing a song for him."

May laughed. "That really does sound like he's obsessed."

"That's what I said."

"And what did he say?" May grinned.

"That I have a great voice and he just loves to hear me sing."

She remembered the other comment he made, about him liking her more when she sang than when she spoke, and she wanted to roll her eyes again at how obnoxious that was.

"Can't say I blame him," May replied. "I love that too."

"He should leave me alone or just tell me what he wants, so he can stop annoying me and I can get on with my life."

"Maybe he wants you." The brunette bit down on her bottom lip, trying to contain a giggle.

"Please don't say that," Virginia groaned. "You're like Natasha."

Taking a sip from her coffee, May's eyes roamed over Virginia's flushed and angry face, thinking for a moment. She knew as much about Stark as anyone else who had come to known him from only a distance. Her opinion about him was based on mere speculation—assumptions and prejudices. She didn't know anything about who he really was. And maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than his silly reputation.

"If he were into you, would that be so bad?" she wondered.

"Yes, I hate him, remember?" Virginia raised her voice rather higher than she had intended.

"Hate is such a strong word." May had to grin. For someone who pretended not to care about that man, her friend was awfully concerned with whatever was going on with him.

"I don't like him. He's arrogant, and self-centered. He's a playboy and—"

"Very good-looking."

That he was. In fact, now that Virginia had seen him up close, she had to admit that Anthony Stark might even be the most handsome man she'd ever laid eyes on. Like all other men, Tony had his flaws, but he was sculptural in his beauty—art. And God knew she had a thing for that.

"I just wanna be left alone," she grunted and ran both hands through her hair, her nerves frayed by the last few days. Why did she let him get to her that way? He wasn't worth it. He wasn't even worth a thought, actually. "Do you think I can get a restraining order?" she joked. She shouldn't let him ruin her mood like that.

"Well, you know what they say about our country..." May said, laughing. "You can achieve anything you put your mind to in America, and I'm sure that does include getting a restraining order against Tony Stark."

Virginia smirked. "He really thinks the world revolves around him. Mine included. Said my life would be better with him in it... As if my world stops turning one day without Tony Stark."

"Oh, that's so sweet," May exclaimed with feigned excitement. "I bet my life would be better with him in it, too." Both women laughed. "Once that man has kids, his whole damn cosmos will change. Believe me." She smiled, thinking of Peter. "My boy's my world now. Every little thing revolves around him, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Virginia's smile reached her ears, as she thought of how it might be to feel that way about someone else—her own flesh and blood. Then her smile twisted into a smirk. "Maybe there's already a mini Stark running around somewhere without Tony knowing."

"That'd be scandalous," May said with a chuckle.

"I'm just saying... The way he's been sleeping around, I wouldn't be surprised if he knocked up some chick by accident." She emptied her cup of coffee. "I wouldn't let that man anywhere near my kid. He's toxic."

May grinned.

"What?" Virginia frowned.

"Can I say something?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"It seems to me like that guy has already made his way into your head."

"No, he—"

"It's okay," May said, smiling. "Just promise be I'll be the first to know if he made it into your heart."

"You're cheesy," Virginia noted, and got to her feet. She set the empty mug into the sink and filled it with water.

"Promise me, Ginger! I don't wanna be the last one to know, like the time you and—When you guys broke up."

"There's nothing to promise you, because it ain't gonna happen." She turned around to face May, leaning back against the kitchen counter as she did so, and pushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear before she gave her her full attention. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about... that... right away. I was in a bad place."

"I know."

"But do you really think after what happened with my last relationship, I would look for someone like Tony Stark?"

"I think you can't choose who you fall in love with," May answered.

"I'm going out with Kyle."

"You're changing the subject," May remarked. "Which kinda proves to me that you're already— You said yes?"

"He's taking me to Steve's party. Does that count as a date?"

"I think it does." A smile touched May's lips. "Are you excited?"

"I don't know. A little. Maybe?" Virginia shrugged her shoulders. "Ugh, I can't tell if I am. Like, he's polite and sweet, and really handsome, but I'm not sure he's—"

"Please don't say 'the right one.' Because that person may never come until you're, like, fifty years old, honey," May said, laughing.

"No, I meant, I don't know if he's really my type of guy, you know? I feel like he's too, um... good."

Grinning, May got up from the chair and walked over to her. "You mean he's too well-behaved? Looking more for a rebel, are we, Ms. Potts?"

Virginia grinned back. She was definitely looking for someone who could make life exciting, and adventurous, and a little bit dangerous—the thrill-seeking kind of a relationship. And Kyle? Well, he seemed more like the kind of guy who always played by the rules. Maybe being with him at a party, and seeing him have fun instead of burying his head in his books, his ink-stained hands cramping from exertion, would change what she thought about him.

"I know what you wanna say, so save your breath, babe." Virginia shook her head, amused by the look on her friend's face—May's grin had morphed into a smug smirk.

"Let me just say, you two would make a stunning couple."

Virginia clamped both hands over May's mouth. "Shut up, loser!"