First, a million thank yous to my betas, Jade and Majoline, for a last minute lookover that meant this chapter would come out today. You are brilliant and wonderful, as always! Thanks to all of you reading, for your patience and motivation. :)

"I like the green streaks. It's a good look."

Loki set downhis book, a rather lurid account of collegiate classicists run amok one of his frustratingly widening social circle had pushed into his hands a few weeks ago. He fumbled at nearly chin-length hair, feeling the hard crust of dried tempera paint even before he saw the green smudges on his fingers.

"We were making piñatas at Daisies." Raising a child taught one so many things. How to exist on very little sleep, to have a glass or two of very strong port before a marathon of Dora the Explorer, and to always carry band-aids, Legos, and Wet Naps. Some green still cling to his fingers, but at least he didn't look as if he'd murdered Kermit the Frog. "The girls were, shall we say, rather enthusiastic."

"I thought you made piñatas last month."

"They enjoyed it so much, they insisted we do it again." He smiled and inclined his head. "Though I think they most enjoyed the part when they beat it to a pulp."

Kara, Loki proudly observed, had an especially wicked backswing for a four-year-old.

Dr. Murray smiled and beckoned at the comfortable, unassuming couch in her correspondingly comfortable, unassuming office. "I admit, I didn't know the whole troop leader thing was going to work out. Offering to take the position was...gallant, I'll give you that. But the job seems to suit you."

"It's not precisely a career ambition, but I've yet to have a parent screaming for my head. I'll take that as an endorsement of sorts." Loki settled into the soft, slightly warm leather. "How was her visit?"

"It went well. You're always so terrified I'm going to say something different." She chuckled, but without a hint of malice. "You know setbacks are okay, though she hasn't had one in a while. Parenting's bad enough without making it harder on yourself."

"I've never exactly been one to make things easy." Loki smirked. If there was a way and it wasn't complicated and convoluted, he was severely disinclined to trust it. "But this has been a difficult year of sorts."

"Kara doesn't seem to remember it that way. She was scared after the attack last fall, but she recovered extremely well. The only thing that she talked about when I asked her about hitting her head was Captain America bringing her teddy bears." Dr. Murray smiled and raised an eyebrow. "At least I knew she wasn't suffering from an overactive imagination. But she has so many more good memories than bad. I think adults could learn from that sort of resiliency."

"It's not so easy. Childhood is seldom some tranquil idyll." Loki admired the woman's confidence. It had certainly worked wonders transforming a terrified toddler into a happy, beaming young girl, but he doubted her naively optimistic statement could even begin to apply outside of this small planet.

Dr. Murray leaned forward. "I'm not meaning to pry, and you don't have to answer if you don't wish. This is just something I've wondered for a while now, if only because it may affect you as a parent." Her expression, already too kind by far, softened even more, but something of her gaze held firm. "Were you adopted?"

Loki sat perfectly still, nearly rigid. He felt his hands grow cold, and all he could hear was his own voice, pleadingly questioning the man he thought his was his father to tell him who and what he really was. It was a long moment before he could reply, before he could have any semblance of calm in his voice, but Dr. Murray was a patient woman. She would hardly work with Midgardian children otherwise. "I was. It was complicated. I did not know I was adopted until I was older, until the people I thought were my family had no choice but to tell me the truth."

Dr. Murray merely nodded, not looking pitiful or vindicated, merely knowing. For the briefest of moments she reminded him of his mother, an image he quickly banished from his already turbulent thoughts. "Do you still even speak to your adopted family? Did you ever contact your biological family?"

Loki laughed, not even attempting to hide the bitter edge. "My adopted family," he said, letting the sarcasm roll across the syllables, "is some distance away, and I've little interest in seeing them again. And yes, I did get in touch with my biological father." Loki smirked, remembering the heft of Gungnir in his hand, the flash of light, how the giant collapsed dead to the floor. "It didn't go very well. More for him than me."

"I'm not trying to dredge up painful memories just to be a sadist-"

"That would be a first."

Dr. Murray managed a half-smile. "Adults who have...complicated childhoods, when they have children themselves, can be terrified of repeating what happened to them, of perpetuating cycles." She bit at the edge of her lip. "Was there any sort of abuse when you were young?"

"There was nothing quite like that, though years of lies and having it strongly implied I simply wasn't good enough should count for something."

Welcome relief crossed the woman's face. "I'm glad for that. Even though you've been very open with Kara about how you adopted her, I imagine you have to be worried, at least unconsciously, about lying to her, even if it isn't about that."

Loki tried not to choke on the sip of coffee he'd just taken. The God of Lies, talking to a Midgardian therapist, about the value of honesty. Much less talking about the lie that hung over he and and Kara like a sword. "Truths are complicated. I imagine even more so when you think dreaming about school the night before somehow satisfies your obligation to attend."

"Then age-appropriately honest." Dr. Murray smiled and rolled her eyes. The woman suffered very little from him, which was one reason why Loki would pay whatever princely fees her office charged. "Though I don't have to remind you that Kara is extremely bright. I don't think you could keep too many secrets from her."

There was certainly one secret Loki was managing to keep extremely well thus far, and no amount of therapy in the world could possibly prepare her - or him - for the day that secret saw the painful light of day.

"She worries about you, too. She has an extraordinary amount of empathy, and a very supportive father. With those things in her corner, I think she could adjust to quite a bit."

Loki raised a single brow, even as he felt a tightness at the mention of Kara's concern. "If you insist."

"You've trusted me with Kara this far." Dr. Murray smiled as she pushed herself out of her chair. "Just go with me a little bit further."

Loki also stood, readjusting his satchel on his shoulder, thankful for the marvels that were wrinkle-free button down shirts. "So long as you don't ask me to go out onto a precarious limb." He smiled dazzlingly at the woman. "I've no patience for those."

"Jarvis, did you put your little brother up to this?" Tony held the length of garishly colored silk across his palm. There wasn't a single suit in the world this tie could possibly match, and if there was, it should probably be destroyed.

"I did not, sir. He wished to express his gratitude. I merely offered suggestions."

"What you call suggestions I call either an act of malice or color-blindness, and I know I programmed you to see in more than black and white."

"He wanted to give you something you didn't already have. As I recall, sir, you have no such article of clothing already in your possession."

"There's a reason for that." Tony rolled his eyes as Dummy's servos whined and he lowered his head. "It was a nice thought," he said, patting the robot gingerly. "Your big brother was just being a bit of a dick."

"I can't imagine where he got that from." Pepper sauntered down the stairs, looking radiant even with tousled hair and only wearing a faded blue T-shirt that barely brushed her upper thighs.

It was good to be home.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. briefing, of all things, had pushed the living situation in the Tower over the edge. Fury's questioning had been fast and, well, furious, and Clint had come damn close to breaking the agreement. Clint and Nat had nearly had it out with the rest of the Avengers when the squabbling group got home, then the master assassins had turned on each other. Cap had broken it up, and Tony was thankful because he really didn't want his place trashed, though he was pretty sure Nat would have kicked Clint's ass if the rest of them had let her. Bruce suggested they all take a break for a few weeks, from each other, from New York, from the possibility of dealing with Loki, and Tony had jetted off for Malibu without a second thought.

"I distinctly remember you saying that exact phrase more than a few times, so I'd say he gets it from his mother."

Pepper smirked at his assessment, but still pressed a kissed to the corner of Tony's lips. "He has you pegged on that tie." She pressed a finger to his mouth before he could protest. "I have the magazine covers from the 90s to prove it."

"I always knew you were a bit of a stalker," Tony purred, encircling Pepper's tiny waist with the hideous tie and pulling her in for a longer embrace. His hands cupped Pepper's hips beneath the soft if garish silk. "Hey Dummy, I think I might have a good use for this thing after all."

Dummy's motors whirred a little more cheerfully as he lifted his head. If Jarvis had eyes, he would be rolling them for not the first time, nor the last.

Pepper brushed her fingers through his hair. "Maybe making Dummy another little brother or sister?'

"I don't see how that- oh." Tony felt a stutter in his chest that had nothing to do with his arc reactor and everything to do with gut-wrenching panic. "You mean like an actual brother or sister. Like a little tiny person."

"That's how they usually tend to start."

"You, you would make a great mom. An amazing mom. You would make papier-mâché volcanoes that would make Martha Stewart weep and organic gluten-free calorie-free cupcakes for soccer and I'd be dropping them, forgetting where they were, expecting them to fetch me snacks before they could walk..."

"Give yourself a little credit." Pepper pressed her hand to his cheek. "Though I'm pretty sure you'd still do all of those things."

God bless Pepper. She kept him sane but she kept him honest. "I don't know, Pep. We've got the company-"

"I've got the company."

"And you're doing an amazing job. But between that and the Avengers, which is a pretty high risk occupation-"

"Look at Sue Storm."

"Was that supposed to be a bad joke?"

"Tony, just listen. Sue and I were talking and-"

"Talking about what? Besides how amazing her marital bliss could be if her husband got his freakishly mobile head out of his ass."

"Tony!" Pepper gave him that look that felt as accusatory as a slap, even if the pink tinge to her cheeks meant she fully got the subtext. "Sue had a little boy, took some time off, and the team did fine. I think you could save the world and still be a great dad."

"You have ridiculous faith in me sometimes. Or all the time. The only model I had for a dad was kind of defective. He..." Tony sighed. "He meant well. I can at least say that. And if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have this." His hand rested on the glowing blue light beneath his shirt. "Of course, without him, I wouldn't have had a chest full of shrapnel in the first place. But I just don't know if I can do anything but turn out the same way."

Pepper smiled beatifically, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "How do you think I'd ever let you do that?"

Tony blinked. "Not an option I'd considered. Though I clearly should have."

Her smile curved into something of a smirk. "Why am I not surprised."

"I know, I know. Still learning to play well with others." Tony's hands reached for hers, the ridiculous tie curling between their fingers. "But we do make a pretty amazing team."

"We do." Pepper raised a single perfect eyebrow. "Am I at least 50 percent of this team?"

"A solid 40."

Pepper raised said eyebrow even higher.

"42? I will consider 45." He looked down, his fingers tracing over her delicate skin and manicured nails, and for a moment, a nanosecond, he imagined a third set of hands, impossibly tiny, something they had made without a single blueprint or contract, just made. "And I will consider the whole small person thing one day."

Pepper hugged him so tight he couldn't breathe for a moment, and when she finally pulled away he was sure he saw tears still brimming in her eyes. "Oh Tony..."

"If we do make a little us, hypothetically, one day, I hope she's just like you." He tilted his head, tapping his foot against the floor, as his hands were busy holding hers. "Which if we cloned you would be entirely possible and...that went from sweet to creepy alarmingly fast, didn't it?"

"Uh-huh." Pepper's fingers pulled at the tie, and the playful glint in her eyes was unmistakable and familiar. "Maybe in the meantime we should practice making small people."

Tony looked around the workshop, lowering his voice to a whisper. "In front of the children?"

Pepper wrapped the tie, a little too knowingly, around Dummy's eyes.