Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. I'm not making any money off this. I'm just having fun playing in their sandbox and hope you enjoy exploring my sandcastle.
Red is for the brave,
Little boy.
Anthony, Age 4, Bedtime
Nanny Christine's POV
I disliked bedtime most of all. Tony was full of energy from before sunrise until after dusk. But even when the youngster's eyes would start to droop his brain and chattering mouth seemed unwilling to acquiesce to his brain's need for a pause.
"…and then Mr. Roberts said that his wife keeps getting burned by her curling iron and since lots of women curl their hair every day, he thinks a tech to improve women's lives would be a curling iron that curls hair but doesn't heat skin. But I said that's silly 'cause heat conducts to whatever it's touching. I suggested that maybe she could put some kind of cream on her forehead so it can absorb the heat and then, I don't know, maybe put it out into the air. But Mr. Roberts nixed that idea 'cause it would mess up her makeup and might get in her hair and then she'd have to start the whole showering bit over. But he says I was right about the conducting thing which is why he's trying to come up with a way to curl hair that doesn't require heat. But I still kind of like the idea of putting something on her skin to keep the heat off her skin."
"Would that be the reason I'm supposed to stash your mother's wig in my room?" His cheeks started to bloom a similar rose as he had brushed on the mannequin's cheeks with my makeup. "And why the mannequin it sits on has bits of grey clay stuck above the blue painted eyebrows and on the sides of her now rosy cheeks?" He sucked in his bottom lip. "As well as why my curling iron, likewise, has gray gunk in the holes?" His eyes looked away. "And perhaps, just perhaps, could that be the reason why you insisted that you needed 20 minutes alone to prepare a surprise from me."
"Never let my son pull that one on you. If he tries it, tell him to make the surprise with the daytime nanny."
"Dad!" Tony rushed over and pulled my door shut as he exited into the hall, preventing his Dad from seeing the evidence.
I overheard:
"So, what've you been up to?"
"Inventing."
"Oh, and what were you inventing tonight?"
"It's bad business practice to divulge trade secrets, Dad."
That, from the 4-year-old that had just rattled on for several minutes about his day at S.I. and all the new tech they were working on. Part of why the Starks paid nannies so well was to keep us from selling S.I.'s secrets since 1. We were required to tag-along when Tony went to work and 2. Tony tended to jabber. We also had to sign non-disclosure agreements.
Mr. Stark was trying to drill into him the idea that some things must be kept quiet. Tony's last line to his Dad would probably keep him out of trouble because Mr. Stark would be pleased that the child was learning to keep secrets. Or, rather, he was learning how to manipulate the sale of an idea, which would likewise please Mr. Stark.
Howard's POV
Ant'ny looked up, and reiterated my oft repeated words to me, "It's bad business practice to divulge trade secrets, Dad."
"So it is. But secrets are easier to keep when you don't wear them on your shirt." I arrived too late to find out precisely what he'd done, but there were bits of clay under his fingernails and a touch of rouge on his shirt sleeve. I could push the issue but decided to let him keep his secret this time. "Clean up. PJs on."
" 'Kay."
8 minutes later…
"Dad? Can you tell me a Captain America story?"
I pulled the covers up around my son's shoulders, then sat on the bed. "Hhm. Only a short one. It is past time for you to be asleep. You know the newsreels where he's singing and dancing on stage, selling war bonds to help pay for the war?"
Anthony nodded.
"You've only seen it in black and white and grays. His uniform was spectacular to see in color. The chest and thighs were a rich blue and the forearms, the lower legs and right across here," I dragged my fingers in vertical stripes across my own mid-section, "were a brilliant red. But the Captain didn't just wear it for stage shows. He wore it in battle."
My kid's little brain, always analyzing and processing, blurted out, "But that's dangerous! The British were the only ones stupid enough to wear red into battle, and even they figured out that it was a dumb idea a couple hundred years ago. That's why soldiers wear camo!" He jutted his chin out, and with angry certainty stated, "Captain America wasn't stupid."
"No, he wasn't. He was brave, and strong, and fast. To him, it was a way of making sure that most of the bullets flew at him instead of his men. When the Axis was rolling through a town, killing civilians, the suit drew attention to him, so he could save lives both by fighting and by keeping the enemies' eyes on him. Battle isn't just about what happens between one man's sword and his enemy's bayonet. It's a symphony and Captain America was its conductor. His soldiers followed his orders, but they weren't his only instruments. He conducted the enemy's troops. Not by giving them orders, but by guiding them to where he wanted them, to where his troops would have the best possibility of taking them down."
"You do that too, Dad."
I'm sure my look was quizzical.
"You wear a fancy suit. People watch you. Listen to you. And you say things to coax them into doing what you want."
I melted inside. My son thought I was like Captain America!
I felt guilt for the loss of Steve Rogers and that I'd given up looking for him. I now knew that the super serum had kept the dear Captain alive, but in what state? A coma? Or a perpetual cycle of awakening, drowning, freezing? Did his hunger grow? Did his body wither? I couldn't leave my old friend stuck in any of those states. And one day, my son would need the Captain. So I funded expeditions and designed new tech to help me find Steve. "I'm leaving on Friday. Steve was my friend. I need to go look for him."
"You'll find him, Dad."
Tony's POV
I wore red shirts every day for the next month. Well, except when I was wearing the Captain America suit Dad had had made for me. Technically, Mom and my nanny took me to a tailor to get my measurements and get it made, but it was my idea and I'd asked Dad, not Mom, if I could have a Captain America suit and he'd said yes! But then he had to leave to look for the Captain. That's why Mom and my nanny went with me to the tailor.
My first day with the suit I needed a rescue mission. I wanted to go on my own, because superheroes don't need babysitters, but Mom and Nanny Christine both said no and Jarvis said, "Superheroes don't whine or beg. They meet the challenges presented to them and succeed despite them." That was his longwinded way of saying my behavior wasn't befitting of the Captain and that I had best get on with my mission with my nanny in tow.
Sigh. Me and Nanny Christine went for a walk to look for hero things to do, but we weren't in NYC, we were in the burbs. Nanny Christine actually suggested that my superhero act should be to clear out the weeds from the flowers surrounding the mailbox of a house we were passing. She thought Captain America's great deed should be to garden! I rushed forward, pretending not to have heard her suggestion. I think playing mum should work both ways. Know when to keep your trap shut and know when to pretend nothing was said.
We walked forever! I wanted to run and jump and climb, but Nanny Christine had grabbed my hand after I'd tried to leave her behind and now she wouldn't let go! Did she think I was going to get smashed by a car? I know how to swivel my head left and right to look for traffic.
No one needed helping and since being a superhero requires lots of fuel we went back to the house. I tried to claim that superheroes needed fast acting, sugary energy, but Nanny Christine refused to give me an ice cream sandwich for lunch, instead giving me a turkey sandwich.
But while I was eating, she disappeared, leaving me with Jarvis. Mom was out at one of her girly luncheons. Nanny Christine had disappeared for the best reason ever! She set up a rescue mission for me!
Nanny Christine stood by the table and in authoritative voice, like a general uses, stated, "Captain! Talula needs rescuing! Her farm is under attack!"
My eyes got wide. She was playing make-believe! That means I had to play too. "General, what are my orders?" I asked.
"There are 20 enemy combatants. Take them all down, then the farm will be safe."
"Where are they?" I asked.
"Just beyond the castle walls, but within the kingdom."
I took that to mean outdoors, but on our property. I raced outside. They were everywhere. There was a GiJo nested in the crook of a tree, another standing in the flower bed and I spied one laying in the grass, his rifle pointed in my direction. I lifted my shield to defend myself. Should I hold it to block their bullets or fling it like a frisbee to take them out? Red is for the brave. I flung it and knocked the one in the flowers over. Red and purple petals fluttered down around him, like roses tossed on a grave. Speed was the key. I leapt towards the soldier in the grass, smashed him with my foot than rolled towards the shield, lifted it and slammed it into the side of another soldier that had been attempting to camouflage himself with a bush. 3 down. 17 to go.
I took one bullet to the side and had to fight one handed while knocking out the next 4 attackers, one with a kick, one with a punch and two at once with a fling of the shield. 13 left.
I found two of them in the birdbath, water soldiers! I spied a pinecone on the ground. A grenade. I threw it at the two navy seals. Splash! The explosion took them out. 11 left.
I tried to fling my shield at the ones in the trees (I'd found 4 more of them in tree limbs since the battle began). The shield knocked one of them to the ground, but the others were too well tucked in. I took one out with another grenade, then I leapt, reached for a low limb and pulled myself up then climbed until I could sneak up behind the other two waiting enemy soldiers. A shove and they screamed on their way down to their grassy demise. 7 left.
The 7 were all surrounding the Fisher Price farm, some facing me, some facing Talula (a Barbie). I couldn't just fling the shield because it might take down some of the animals. Talula would have run away if she didn't care about her animals. She wanted them to live. I had to be brave and fight them without the grenades that had been so useful earlier in the battle.
I had to be sneaky. I snuck away and got the hose and attached the "gun" handle. Then I snuck back to the farm, aimed and used my water gun, set to super strength, to take out each of the soldiers, one by one. It accidently took out part of the farm's fence too, so with the soldiers down, I helped Talula round up the cows and pigs that had escaped and put them back in the farmyard then re-setup the fence.
Mission complete, I went to check in with my commanding officer. "Mission complete."
"At ease, soldier." Stated Commanding Officer Christine.
Other days, I did soldier training: running, ducking, rolling, throwing. The throwing didn't go perfectly. Well, I thought it went well because I had successfully knocked 3 enemy soldiers off the top of my Captain America shelves. They had invaded the territory. They had to be taken out! Jarvis took my shield, grabbed my arm, dragged me and a chair to a corner and told me to sit.
Not fair. I said so, "They were invading our territory! They had to be taken out."
Did Jarvis yell about not frisbee throwing the shield indoors like my nanny had yesterday? No. Did he yell about the lamp that had ever so slightly wobbled when the invaders met their demise? No. Jarvis played the game. "Conduct unbecoming a soldier has led to your court martial and the judge has determined that the sanction is 10 minutes of confinement and removal of weapons privileges for 1 day."
"Jarvis." I exclaimed in my most whiny voice.
"15 minutes." Then he walked away, not giving me a chance to continue my defense.
I considered just leaving the chair, but Jarvis had played make-believe and if I ignored the court martial that would mean I had stopped playing because soldiers don't ignore court martials. That would be unbecoming to the point of getting kicked out of the army, meaning Jarvis might confiscate the suit.
15 minutes in a wood chair could be really boring if your brain was too dimwitted to fill that time with thoughts. I had tons of thoughts.
I thought about attaching a washer to the end of the water hose gun to make the exit hole smaller so more water would have to go out more forcefully through the small hole.
I thought about how Dad said that Aunt Peggy and Captain Rogers wanted to go dancing together. So I was trying to figure out what music I could practice dancing to.
They probably would have danced to something boring, like Big Band music and I couldn't decide if I should try to be authentic. Authentic means real. Not like the apple on the table is real, but like really honest. That's not right either. Ugh. Not like you'd never tell a lie honest, but like you're not going to let other people tell you anchovies are good on pizza when you know they are awful. But Mom says you have to be careful with that kind of authentic too and that sometimes it's better to follow the keep mum rule and pretend you like something you really hate. Maybe instead of being authentic to what Captain American and Aunt Peggy like I should be authentic to what I like.
I started to get up from the chair to go look through the records to decide what to use, and my foot had almost touched the ground when I remember the court martial. How could I be Captain America rescuing people who need help without the suit? And though Jarvis hadn't said he'd take it he already had the shield and could keep it for longer. Unless I could find it. I wonder where he put it? Probably in one of Dad's locked rooms that Jarvis has the keys to. I kicked the chair in frustration. Weren't 15 minutes up yet?
I wanted to kick the chair more and maybe throw something and definitely yell, "The shield is mine. I need it back." But Jarvis had already told me that superheroes don't complain about challenges. They continue on despite the challenges. Sometimes being a superhero is no fun. With the suit on, I wasn't allowed to complain and stuck in court martial I couldn't continue on despite the challenge. My feet kicked the chair again. Bored!
But I have an active brain. Everyone says that it is hard to keep up with me because I'm always coming up with things they never expected to have to deal with.
Did Jarvis mean all weapons were banned for 24 hours? He took the shield, but there were so many other things to use as weapons. I could even paint a frisbee to make a new shield. Hmm. Jarvis could be as strict as Dad. No weapons probably meant no weapons. But I could probably get away with making weapons. Then I can be prepared for when the sanction is lifted.
"Your confinement has been served," stated Jarvis in his British butler voice.
I ran back to my room. The Captain's uniform was for rescue missions. I needed to work on weapon's design, which meant engineering clothes. I put on shorts and a red shirt. The red shirts were like a reminder to be brave. I really missed Dad. It had been weeks and weeks since I even got to talk to him. The red shirts made me feel brave and reminded me of when he was still around, 'cause just before he left he had actually tucked me in and told me about Captain Rogers wearing red. Dad never tucks me in. That's the nannies' or Mom's job.
I couldn't just stand around in my bedroom. I had to make weapons.
I took off for the garage to search for frisbees, passing by Nanny Christine on the way.
I think the nannies like it when Jarvis is the one to assign me timeout. They don't have to chase me down when I won't stay and they spend the time on the phone with a boyfriend or reading one of those books where the lady and buff guy are making out on the cover. Nanny Christine was on the phone with her boyfriend. I heard her tell him, "I've got to go, Elliot. See you tonight." Then she was following me.
Maybe I should be making real weapons too? Something that Mr. Rogers could use after Dad rescues him. Dad said he'd do his best to find him and I really hope they came home together.
If you have the time, drop a line.
