Happy Valentines' Day, followers! :D

"Approaching Rose Hill in approximately twelve minutes. Narrowing down our landing location to the signal's exact point of origin."

"Thanks, FRANNIE." Don't worry, old man, I'm coming. I couldn't drop below cloud cover yet or people would see me, and that would just complicate things. But from my altitude I could see that several people were crowding around a ransacked section of street, which was busy being roped off with police tape. Scans indicated that an explosion had happened here, in a store, and in a bar nearby several people were cleaning up broken glass. Still more were huddled around curiously as local police and an ambulance arrived.

I shook my head, holding back a grin. This had Tony's fingerprints all over it.

I finally landed in a secluded area of woods a little beyond the outskirts of the town, then had the suit fold up, slung it over my back and snuck through the back roads all shady-like. While I was scared of getting caught by someone, a part of me felt excited to be playing ninja. I wondered briefly how Natasha Romanoff, alias Natalie Rushman, alias the Black Widow, did it.

FRANNIE routed the location signal to the map on my phone. By the time we arrived at the source-a small workshed near a two-story suburban house-my legs felt like they were made of wood, and I had to take several deep breaths before continuing. Was Tony in there for real? If it was just a bait, a trap that I was walking into, then I shouldn't be walking in undefended. I suited up and on the count of three, forced open the old wooden door.

Almost at once a loud bang went off and a small, dense projectile hurtled at me. The suit had just enough time to register and react, and I put up my hand and shattered the projectile to bits with a sudden blast.

"Aaaaah!" I yelled.

"Who's there?" said a voice—a kid's voice. A small boy's voice. Needless to say, I was surprised. Very surprised.

"Oh my God, what the actual hell?"

"Sorry," the boy said, obviously taken aback. I slid up my faceplate and took in the sight of him—short, blonde, about ten years old probably, and holding a makeshift potato gun.

"Would you put that away and not point it at me, please?" I said irritably—more upset that Tony wasn't the first thing I ever caught sight of in here.

"Whoa—Iron Girl?"

"I don't like to be called that, but sure. Iron Girl," I said, clanking into the workshop. "I'm the real friggin' deal."

"How did you find me?" The boy put down the gun cautiously, looking me over as I entered, looking around suspiciously.

"How did YOU end up with that in your possession?" I said, jerking my head toward the moth-eaten couch on which lay the battered ( and headless) MK 42.

"Because he was here," said the boy. "Tony Stark was here, for real."

"What?"

As if in response, a familiar voice with a British accent spoke up. "He's telling the truth, Miss Stark."

I blinked. "JARVIS?" The voice was coming from the MK 42's helmet, sitting on a messy worktable.

"Good evening, ma'am! What a pleasure to hear your mango."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, so glad to hear his voice again. "So that's where the signal was coming from!"

"Is that how you tracked us?" the boy persisted.

"Yeah." I turned to him. "I'm so sorry I surprised you. But he was here—my uncle, for real?"

"Yeah," said the boy. "And I helped him," he added, a little prouder. "My name is Harley."

"Harley," I repeated. "Well, any clue as to where he is now?"

"He left to find the Mandarin, drove off a while ago," he told me, sounding eager to supply this information. "I'm looking after the suit and trying to reboot JARVIS' speech drive. Tony's supposed to walk me through it, but he had a panic attack—"

"A what, now?" I said, worry creeping up my spine. "Did you mention New York?"

"How did you know?" said Harley, amazed.

"Oh, I know all right," I said grimly.

"But he's okay," Harley told me reassuringly. "He's really cool. Some blazing fire guys came over here and wrecked the place, but it was nothing we couldn't handle."

"Blazing…fire…guys?" I said, unable to comprehend.

Harley shrugged. "Eh, long story."

"Uh huh," I said. "So when did Tony last contact you?"

Harley was about to reply when a small buzz emanated from his pocket. He pulled out a cellphone and said "Hello, Mr. Stark?"

My heart bounced.

"Um, Tony, there's a girl here."

"Give it to me, Harley," I said, motioning toward the phone impatiently. Harley did so, stunned. I grabbed it and pressed the receiver to my ear.

"Iz?!" I heard my uncle's familiar voice.

Next to the sound of piano keys and Hayley Williams' voice, it was the best sound ever.

"Surprise, bitch!" I said. Harley winced at the word.

"Iz—what the hell are you doing there? Didn't Pepper tell you to lay low and be safe?"

"Oh, you told Pepper to tell me that? Yeah, I heard your voice message, you told Pepper you were alive and not me. Yeah, I feel really special right about now!" Despite my words, I couldn't help but trail off laughing in relief. On the other end, Tony was laughing too.

"Iz, calm down, honey."

"It's great to hear your voice, Tony."

"Yours too." And I knew he meant it. "So how'd you find Harley?"

"FRANNIE found JARVIS' signal the moment she came back on. I thought Jarv and the rest of the suit was with you."

"It's not—but you used the Chrome suit? As in, your parents let you?"

"Yes! Now where are you?"

"I'm heading to the Mandarin's base in Miami, thinking of bunking down at Villa Maria for the night." The Villa Maria was Stark property, a vacation house in Florida. It was called Villa Maria after Tony's mother. I blinked. "The Mandarin's in Miami? Not in a cave somewhere in the Middle East?" My mother had moved to Florida, with her boyfriend. If the Mandarin was anywhere near her, it meant one more problem.

"Yeah, crazy right? I'll tell you everything as soon as I can."

Yes, you will. "I'll meet you there," I told him.

"Wait. No way, Iz, it's too dangerous—"

Holy cow, not this load of crap again. "Tony, I have a suit and you don't. Did you seriously think you could take the Mandarin on your own?"

He was quiet for a fair bit. "Fair enough," he finally conceded. "Fine, I'll let you know. See you on Christmas eve, kid. Give the phone back to Harley."

"See you." Our happy family reunion would have to wait; but at least it had a chance of happening at all.

Harley took the phone from me. "Tony? Okay. Yeah, yeah okay. Got it. I won't! Okay, take care." He hung up and turned to me matter-of-factly.

"So Tony told me that now you're here, you can help me with the suit and JARVIS."

"He did?" God, Uncle, you owe me big-time.

"Yeah. You can do it, right?" Harley glanced at the suit I was wearing. "Also, you might wanna touch up your suit too. It's looking bad. No offense."

"None taken," I sighed. Time to get to work. "All right, Harley. I can fix this. I just need all the windows to be shut, a hair ribbon, a first-aid kit, a car battery, some electromagnets, twelve jammie dodgers and a fez." Harley looked at me, puzzled.

"Just kidding," I amended quickly. "Don't get the jammie dodgers or the fez. Just-maybe a can of ginger ale?"

"Ooookay," said Harley.