Hey, guys! Thanks so much for the support and suggestions; you really helped me out. Some things I've remembered from my initial plans, and some are brand new brilliant ideas I'm thrilled to work with. I definitely have a solid plot now - the only thing to do is find a way to crawl along and connect the dots. Thus, each chapter will be about this short from here on out, and possibly less often. I've never done a fic working from the past up to the present before, so it's a real challenge.
Thanks againfor the love!
**8**
"Who are you?" Howard demands, half drunk and lashing out at anyone in his way. Tony tries stay silent as he stares, wide-eyed, from around the corner at Natasha. She's carrying a box of scrap metal from the mail, curls tucked into a loose ponytail and minimal makeup applied.
"My name is Jenny, sir," she replies instantly, and Tony has to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle the tiny snort of laughter because he told her the story of his most recent encounter with his mother and it had been clear she had no idea what to do with it. "I was hired last week."
He squints. "As what?"
"Cleaning services," she answers with a winning smile. Howard pointedly looks her up and down, taking in her dark grey t-shirt, ratty jeans, and purple sock feet with a disdainful expression.
"Then where's your uniform?" he asks suspiciously. "And why are you carrying mail?"
"Mr Jarvis has yet to receive a dress fitted to my size," Natasha says, eyes cast to the floor in apparent shame and discomfort. Tony knows full well she's nothing short of comfortable dressed as she is. "I apologize for my appearance - I was assigned to the lower floors until I could come in uniform, but today I had a box to deliver to the young master's room -"
Oh no. Tony bites his lip and hopes his forehead thunking on the wall doesn't make any noise. 'Young master,' he thinks gleefully. She's never going to hear the end of this.
"I see. What's in the box?"
"I'm afraid I don't know that, sir."
"Then why does it look opened?"
"I believe Mr Jarvis checked it to make sure it was for the young master," she explains. Tony admires her ability to make things up on the spot like that, and actively wishes he could do it too, until he thinks of it as lying and abruptly begins to wonder how much she's told him that she's come up with on the fly.
"Let me see the box," Howard says, and Tony knows she can't deny him the right, but if he sees the materials in it he'll take it away; everything Tony makes with scraps like those is 'stupid' and a 'waste of materials', after all. Grimly, he plasters on an excited smile and acts cheerful.
"Jenny, Jenny!" he cries, darting from around the corner and making grabby hands at the box. "Is that my birthday present?"
Natasha raises an eyebrow at him, changing her expression to a neutral smile when he gets a look at her face. "From Mr Jarvis, young master. He said I'm not allowed to let you open it until you've cleared a space in your room."
"Aww," Tony pouts theatrically, "but it's my birthday. Can't I do it tomorrow?"
Her smile widens; she's enjoying the secret banter. "I'm sorry, young master, but Mr Jarvis gave me strict orders not to budge under pain of vacuuming the curtains."
"It's worth it," Tony insists, only half joking now, "because it's my birthday."
"Worth it to you, maybe," she retorts, and Howard's leaving now, muttering about bratty children and stupid toys. Tony's grin is blinding.
"Come on then, Jenny," he teases, "let's go open my present."
**8**
Jarvis finds them an hour later, fiddling with the hunks of metal from the box and chucking plastic at each other with gleeful abandon. He's half convinced Miss Romanoff never had a proper childhood, and spends a few minutes watching her pretend to keep up all pretences of relaxation she'd held before noticing his eyes on her. Perhaps this, playing with Tony, is her way of taking her chance to grow up properly. Then again, maybe not. It's hard to tell anything from her body language alone, and either way he doesn't want to know what weaponry her hand had been reaching for that morning when he caught her returning two used juice glasses to the kitchen. Thankfully she hadn't stabbed him, though she had stiffened and cracked one of the glasses with the strength of her alarmed grip. Jarvis had merely brushed it off and asked after Tony.
He's truly grateful she was there for him last night, but he can't help but think that maybe if he keeps going to her for comfort he might get jealous. But that doesn't matter, he reminds himself firmly. Anyone willing to spend hours drinking juice and twisting wires together on a child's bedroom floor earns his respect. Anyone willing to reach out to Tony deserves even more.
He smiles to himself and lifts his camera for a candid photo of the scene before him. Something tells him they'll appreciate it in later years.
**8**
Tony gets a basket of baked goods and a new wrench from Jarvis, a check for two million dollars from Howard ("So you won't bother me next year," he grunts before disappearing behind his office doors, and Tony's too busy planning the rest of his life with Jarvis and Natasha to do anything but smile), and a perfect size tool box from the staff. He even gets a red-painted multi tool from Natasha, and he reverently thanks her and places it carefully in his shiny new tool box. He doesn't see his mom, but he smells a hint of her perfume when he passes the kitchen on his way to sneak a finger swipe of frosting off the cake he's not supposed to know about, and that reassures him.
He's ten years old today. He doesn't feel much different - he's still bruised and stuck in a cast, after all - except maybe a little happier that he's got a new person he cares about in his life. It was only by chance that he met her and Jarvis said she's a really dangerous person, but Tony remembers how she let him hug her even when she wasn't comfortable with it and stayed up with him for hours before he felt better. She's a good person, he knows, and he's lucky to have her. Especially knowing that some really important government people want her to work for them. She chose Tony over them. He's still not quite sure why, but he's happy nonetheless
As the three of them sit around the beautiful triangle-shaped red velvet cake and the two adults sing, he thinks that Natasha's probably the best birthday present he's ever had.