Nothing in this crazy ass mansion made sense to Amelia. "How much glass does one man need?" She wondered, hopping up to perch on the gray kitchen counter as sunlight streamed in through the monstrous floor to ceiling windows Tony lined the walls with.
A pair of almighty heels clicked on the polished floors as Tony's assistant, the ginger haired and feisty Pepper Potts, strode into the kitchen, a dry cleaning bag in hand. "Every time you visit you ask the same question." Pepper pointed out, checking her phone.
A smile grew on Amelia's pointed lips and she began to unwind her long black hair from its braid, shaking out the wavy strands just as two slices of toast popped from the toaster. "And every time I get the same answer." Amelia whined, grabbing the first slice and slathered a generous slob of butter across it, a few crumbs falling on her navy t-shirt as she bit down.
"Because when you've got a view like that you deserve all the glass in the world."
Amelia didn't glance up from her toast as her father ambled into the sunlit kitchen, ignoring Amelia perched atop the counter. "And it's called modern art, you sweet, uncultured daughter of mine." Tony combed a hand through his slick black hair, running it along the side of his weathered features to rub at the goatee decorating his chin.
"This." Amelia waved her toast around the unbelievably spotless kitchen, the monotone surfaces, the excessive space, even the stainless steel fireplace along the wall, deep brown eyes cringing at all the white and exposed metal. "Is not modern art."
Tony narrowed matching brown eyes at her. "Aren't you students supposed to be studying or something, you know?" He snatched the toast from her hands, "Why are you gracing me with your undoubtedly lovely presence."
"As if you know what normal students do." Amelia snickered, snatching the toast back, "Uncle Rhodey told me everything before I turned sixteen."
Tony visibly shuddered, picking the second slice of toast out. "Jarvis, remind me to reprimand Rhodes the next time I see him."
"Of course, sir." The plucky interface perked up, his plummy voice echoing around the kitchen.
"I'll be out of your hair, soon enough." Amelia took another bite of toast, hopping down from the counter. "I just came for the free breakfast."
"You students," Tony shook his head, "Always scrounging off your parents."
"And you wouldn't have it any other way." Amelia smirked, brushing off a few crumbs.
Tony dribbled jam over his slice, shoving it in his bearded mouth as he slipped past the two women, throwing an awkward wave back at her as he left that had Amelia shaking her head.
The old man never changed.
"Wait," He skidded across the floor in his socks, catching hold of the doorframe to drag himself back and narrow his eyes at her shirt, taking the slice from his mouth, crumbs spilling out. "Whose shirt is that?"
Amelia glanced down at the shirt, the baggy front tucked into her jeans, 'US Air Force' written across the breast in big white letters. A playful smile danced across her sharp features when she looked back up, wrapping her free hand around her cup of coffee. "Definitely not mine."
A sly smirk slid across Tony's lips as he bit down on the toast, nodding approvingly at Amelia, and Pepper rolled her eyes at him. "Just don't get caught in the governor's mansion this time." Tony winked, twisting on his heel.
"That happened one time." Amelia sighed irritably, taking a sip of the warm coffee, catching Pepper as she bit back a laugh. "Oh, you think that was funny, do you?"
"Well, it was rather embarrassing." She admitted with a small shrug, "For all of us."
"Thanks for the reminder." Amelia grumbled, taking a huge bite of toast.
Tony snatched the slice from her hands before she could, scampering off through the lounge and Amelia gaped at him. You think he'd have more to say to her, after weeks without seeing her, but no, instead he just stole her breakfast. "Nice to see you too, Dad!" she yelled sarcastically as he disappeared with her toast down to the garage.
"Give him a break, Amy." Pepper murmured, adjusting her ginger ponytail as she stepped over to the toaster, sliding another slice in for her. "He just wants to keep you out of trouble."
"Right." Now it was her turn to roll her eyes, clutching her mug with both hands now. "Because daddy dearest never got into trouble when he was my age."
"That's not what I meant." Pepper sighed and they both turned their heads as they heard Jarvis plummy voice echo from the lounge, "Give me a sec."
Pepper slipped around the counter with the dry cleaning bag, popping out into the lounge and Amelia hid in the doorway curiously, nursing her coffee in her hands as she watched a startled blonde hovering near the door to Tony's office, wearing nothing but one of his formal shirts.
"That's Jarvis, he runs the house." Pepper told her as she began to back away from the console, spinning at the sound of Pepper's voice. "I've got your clothes here, they've been dry-cleaned and pressed." Pepper held up the bag as Amelia studied the blonde, "And there's a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you'd like to go."
The blonde woman reoriented herself, picking at her teeth thoughtfully, "You must be the famous Pepper Potts." She smiled knowingly, jabbing a finger and Amelia raised an eyebrow.
"So she does have a brain." Amelia muttered under her breath and shrugged when Pepper shot her a sharp look.
"Indeed, I am." The ginger nodded and handed the blonde her clothes.
She slung the plastic over her shoulder, tight smile on her lips. "After all these years, Tony still has you picking up the dry-cleaning." She jabbed and Amelia could've spat her coffee out.
"Oh no, she didn't." Amelia squeaked, watching the scene play out from behind her mug.
"I do anything and everything that Mister Stark requires," Pepper replied diplomatically, ever polite and courteous, but Amelia knew her better than that and waited for the rest. "Including, occasionally, taking out the trash." She glanced to the door then back at the blonde and Amelia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Will that be all?"
The blonde had the nerve to open her mouth, intent on snapping back, when Amelia swooped in to save her the embarrassment. "The bathroom is this way, you can change in there." Amelia smiled sweetly, gestured to a door down the hallway, just off from the kitchen. "Why don't you get changed and I'll see you out?" Amelia offered and the blonde frowned at her, slipping into the bathroom.
Amelia twisted to stare at Pepper once the lock clicked shut, leaning back against the door with an arm crossed over her chest, a sparkle in her eye. "You've been watching too much Keeping Up With the Kardashians, haven't you?" Amelia smirked and Pepper gave her a flat look. "You don't have to hide it from me, I don't judge."
Pepper released an exhausted breath, retreating into the kitchen, as the bathroom door opened behind her, almost dropping Amelia inside if she hadn't been holding the doorframe.
The blonde emerged just as the toaster pinged, brushing out her long hair, tugging on the suit jacket and smoothing down her pencil skirt, leaving the shirt she'd borrowed hanging from a hook behind the door.
"You're his kid, aren't you?" the blonde asked as she retrieved her bag and the rest of her belongings, following Amelia to the door.
"No, I'm afraid you've mistaken me for another black haired, brown eyed, homewrecker." Amelia quipped sarcastically, ushering her along, holding open the unnecessarily heavy glass door. "Hurry up, now, we wouldn't want to keep the trash collectors waiting."
The blonde stuttered out an exclamation as Amelia shooed her out, letting the glass door swing shut, and leaned against it with a tired expression. "And in a normal household, I'd be kissing my sweet father on the cheek before I said my goodbyes, not clearing out last night's entertainment." She grumbled, downing the rest of her coffee.
"Is she gone?" Pepper queried as she stepped out from the kitchen, a file tucked under one arm, her phone clutched to her chest in the other.
"A shame too." Amelia nodded, skipping back inside to set her empty mug in the sink. "She seemed nice."
"You're hilarious." Pepper quipped flatly, setting the phone back to her ear as she strode across the living room to take the stairs into the garage.
Amelia shrugged, flicking on the tap. "I think so." Amelia washed up the mug, setting it down in the rack beside the sink, before taking the stairs up, ducking into her room to slide out the box from under her bed. She tucked it under her arm, slinging her bag across her shoulder, and kicked the door shut behind her, slipping back down the stairs just as the front door opened, letting in the warm California breeze.
"Miss Stark." Happy greeted as she dumped her bag on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table.
"Hogan." She grinned, holding up a hand, and Happy slapped it once with a roll of his eyes, "Long time, huh?"
Happy nodded bluntly, "Yale get sick of you yet?"
"Wow, don't sound too excited to see me." Amelia quipped sarcastically, "I might think you live up to your nickname."
"Uh-huh." Happy grunted, ignoring her and taking the stairs up.
Amelia took her phone, dropping onto the low couch, drawing one of the fluffy pillows onto her lap as she took out her phone and fired off a quick text to let her friends know when she'd be back in the city. They had plans, apparently, although Amelia wasn't sure she'd be up for a frat party after a seven hour flight, even if she was flying first class.
"Going somewhere?" Amelia quirked an eyebrow as Happy brought a brown leather suitcase down with him, a suit bag slung over his shoulder.
"The sunny Middle East." Tony answered, hopping up the stairs from the garage with Pepper in tow, "Are you still here?"
Amelia gave him her sweetest smile, "Just to annoy you."
"Oh, Sparkplug." Tony sighed patronizingly, using her familiar nickname, "It's always a delight when you come home." Tony shrugged his arms into the black leather jacket Pepper held out for him, "Say hi to Professor Jennings for me."
"He says you still owe him ten bucks."
"Jennings says a lot of things and only a fifth of them are true."
"So, you didn't steal his dad's…" Tony made a rough shrieking sort of sound and clasped his hand over Amelia's mouth, leaping across the lounge to clasp a hand over her mouth.
"That particularly story does not need repeating in front of the children." He finished for her, whispering loudly and smirked at the unimpressed look Pepper shot his way. "Should I be worried her professors are telling stories instead of teaching?" he frowned, giving her a playful shake before letting go.
Amelia shook her head, chucking the pillow at him in retaliation but he hopped out the way, the cushion bouncing to a stop near the grand piano. Any normal father might, Amelia thought bitterly and smoothed over her frown when Pepper shot her a look. That woman knew Amelia's thoughts better than she did and Amelia crossed her arms over her chest, slumping back against the couch, pouting. "Just be glad she's not dating the lawyer anymore." Pepper smirked, "Else you'd be screwed."
Tony's eyes bugged out, hand over his heart dramatically as he whipped round to stare at her. "You dated a lawyer?" he gasped, "Perish the thought, young lady."
"You're right, dating a lawyer, what was I thinking?" Amelia tutted, "Becoming one, on the other hand…?"
Tony faked a heart attack, stumbling backwards down the hallway, and it put a small smile on Amelia's lips. "Is she joking? I can't tell if she's joking." Tony frowned.
"She's joking." Pepper told him bluntly, "And you're late."
The ginger held open the door for him as he clicked his tongue at her, throwing Amelia another half wave over his shoulder as he followed Happy outside. "Give em hell, kiddo."
"You first." Amelia shot as the door swung shut behind him, waiting until he was hidden in the driver's seat of his sports car before letting the easy smile slip.
"So, we ready to go?" Pepper prompted, eyeing Amelia's bag by the sofa, checking the papers in her own before shouldering the briefcase.
"Almost." Amelia perked, shuffling forward on the edge of the couch, and tapped the box excitedly, "Open it."
A warm smile lit up Pepper's freckled face. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." Amelia scoffed, propping her head on her hands as Pepper unraveled the ribbon. "My father might have a memory like a sieve but it ain't genetic."
"Good thing I remembered for him." Pepper chuckled slyly, lifting the lid.
"You got it?" Amelia gasped.
"I got you one too, you know Obadiah wants you at the Benefit this year."
"Note my enthusiasm." Amelia said offhandedly, trying to hurry her along as she unwrapped the layers of tissue paper. "Come on, I haven't got all morning."
Pepper lifted out the ornate black frame, wide grin filling her face as she ran her fingers along the glass. "It's perfect." She thanked, hugging it to her chest.
"Not sure it beats a designer dress, but…"
"But it's the personal touch that matters." Pepper interjected, wrapping the photo of them when they holidayed in London back up to protect it, tucking it under her arm as Amelia gathered her things. "Now, let's get you back to New York."
The flight itself wasn't so bad, Amelia had done it a dozen times before, and she only had the one overnight bag on her, but it was the slow battle through security on the other side, five and a half hours later, that tested her patience. She tapped frustrated fingers against the booth as the customs attendant checked her passport, frowning eyes glancing up and down, wondering the same question everyone asked when they learned her name. Amelia gave him a thin smile the third time he did it, and she refrained from rolling her eyes.
"Every single time." She muttered quietly to herself, watching as he glanced back up at her again. "Yes, I'm a Stark." She told him exhaustedly, "Yes, that Stark and no I can't tell you what he's like in real life." She gave him a sweeter smile, cocking her head slightly, "Anything else?"
The attendant gave a slow shake of his head, sliding her passport back through the hole cut in the plastic divider, and she snatched it up, adjusting the strap of her bag as it grew heavier by the second, giving him a mock salute in thanks.
Anywhere she travelled, anywhere that involved giving her last name, she got the same reaction. "Oh my god, you're his daughter?" as if they didn't see the black hair, the brown eyes, the wit. It exhausted her, the relentless questions even more so.
Amelia jumped on the AirTrain from the airport into the city, switching to the C train at Penn Station and walked a few blocks before reaching Tony's Manhattan apartment opposite the park, breathing in the New York air as she walked, a lazy smile falling on her lips.
This was much more her style. No glass, no horrible white or anxiety inducing bare steel. Just plain old New York. Scruffy, dirty and downright nasty if you didn't walk fast enough, the sidewalk scuffed and littered with cigarettes no matter where you went, the buildings racing up into the sky, blocking out the clouds, and the echo of car horns followed you everywhere.
She greeted the doorman as he held open the door for her, bobbing his head in a nod, and Amelia stepped into the small antique lobby, the polished mahogany floor shining back up at her.
"Miss Amelia!" the concierge waved her over, taking out a key fob from his desk and handing it to her, "Miss Potts said to have a key waiting."
Amelia winked as she took it, "You're a star."
The lanky operator bumped her fist as she stepped over to the elevator, pushing down the correct button and the doors squeaked as they slid shut. "How's the football league treating you, Tommy?" Amelia wondered, twizzling the key between her fingers.
"Not good, this time." He answered wearily, "Luck just ain't on my side this season."
"How bout I bring you some pasta later and we'll see what we can do?" Amelia offered, the elevator opening on the correct floor.
"I'm sure you have better things to be doing." He chuckled as Amelia slipped the key into the door.
"Nonsense." Amelia scoffed, her mind wandering to the stacks of notes she had left to study before her lecture tomorrow, "Besides, you love my pasta."
"You have a good evening, Miss Amelia." The elevator doors slumped closed as Amelia threw the apartment door wide open, kicking it shut behind her and dumping the key in the bowl.
The warm lights gradually filled the room when Amelia flicked the switch, wandering through the glossy foyer and stopping in the small, hardwood kitchen to turn on the coffee machine, opening and closing all the cupboards to see it had been well stocked. Pepper's handiwork no doubt, that woman went out of her way to take care of Amelia, as if it were her personal duty or something when they both knew it was well below her paygrade.
Amelia pushed the door to her childhood bedroom open with a shoulder, dumping her bag on the small ottoman, knocking off the stuffed dog she'd had since she was a baby and kicked off her shoes, curling her toes in the soft cream carpet before pulling a cable knit jumper from the hardwood dresser. She tugged it over her head, shaking out her black waves and kicked the drawer shut again, hairband tucked between her teeth as she marshalled the unruly strands into a messy bun, the beep of the coffee machine echoing down to her. Sticking her feet into a pair of grey fluffy socks, Amelia grabbed her laptop and textbooks and made two coffees. One, she poured into a takeaway cup, wondering why on earth they had takeaway cups in here, and took it out to Tommy in the elevator, his grateful smile lighting her sharp features, and clutched the other one close as she unlocked the doors to the terrace.
Cushioned chairs lined the tiles, the terrace overlooking the park and the New York skyline, both of them bathed in darkness now, and she snuggled into the seats, cradling her coffee close and breathing in the warm caramel as her laptop sprung to life. She folded a textbook over her knee and knuckled down for a few hours of work before her night truly began, delicate lights twinkling at her as the city that never sleeps came alive in the black.
One empty cup and an entire lecture written up later and Amelia was tugging the pencil from her hair, gathering up her notes and retreating to the bedroom where she plonked it all on the desk. Amelia splashed some water over her face, shaking out the bun, frowning at her reflection for a moment before picking a fresh pair of black jeans out of the closet, tying her chest up in a strappy white top that finished in a bow down her back. She paused as her phone pinged with a location, glancing at the top in the mirror and sighing, exchanging it for something black, sheer and sparkly. NYU parties weren't known for being clean, and Amelia did not want to spend tomorrow morning trying to get the stain off a white shirt. She finished by slapping on a bit of makeup, slipping her feet into daring crimson flats and sticking her wallet and phone into a purse, dumping her dirty mug into the sink before locking up the flat.
"Sorry, no pasta tonight, Tommy." She apologized, slinging the purse over her shoulder and stepping into the elevator.
"I'll let it slide just this once, Miss Amelia." Tommy replied and pressed the button for the ground floor, eyeing her outfit suspiciously.
Amelia glanced down at it, it certainly wasn't as bad as some of the things she owned, but Tommy had two daughters of his own and knew what sparkles meant.
"Here's a little something." Amelia held out a slip of paper and Tommy took it cautiously.
"Swap Detroit for Canton, you serious? He's been playing bad all season."
"Trust me," she winked as the elevator doors slid open, "I have insider information."
"Alright," Tommy agreed, slipping the paper into his uniform, "Consider the bribe accepted."
The two of them loved nothing more than spilling Amelia's after dark secrets to her father, or more accurately to Pepper, and Amelia crossed the lobby before the concierge could catch her. Tommy could be swayed, a little something here and there, but the concierge took his job way too seriously. More than once, he'd caught her trying to sneak out, in the long years she'd lived here.
She glanced back at the tall apartment building as she walked down the street, she'd called New York home since she was fourteen, and lived here mostly by herself since she started taking classes at Columbia. First a boarding school in upstate New York, then Columbia and now Yale. All whilst her father supervised from a far away in sunny California. Not exactly the helicopter parenting most of her classmates earned.
Even now, the campus building swarmed with students, other kids her age, all of them holding the stereotypical red plastic cup, music blasting from speakers somewhere, and Amelia heard cheers from inside. She squeezed herself in the door, past an electric game of beer pong, to find her partners in crime lingering near the makeshift bar.
"You're late." Harry chastised as Amelia tapped him on the shoulder, looking down his long nose at her.
Amelia gave him a dry look. It took her only twenty minutes to walk to the Speakeasy, even in her shoes. "I don't take the metro like you lazy brats."
Ruth clutched her heart dramatically, smiling, "You wound me."
Another cheer emanated from the beer pong match, the frat boys yelling raucously and Amelia wrinkled her nose at them. "Couldn't you have found somewhere nicer to hang out tonight?"
"My connections say this is the place to be." Harry exclaimed. Amelia had never met anyone who knew more students in New York than Harry, though between the two of them they likely covered the whole state. "I took the liberty." Harry passed across a shot from where he guarded it on the counter.
"Lemme guess." Amelia knocked back the smoky liquid, enjoying the burn as it went down, "The Stark?"
"I told you it wasn't funny." Ruth playfully punched Harry's shoulder.
"Hardly." Amelia agreed, "He does it every time." Amelia punched his other one, "Find a new joke, ass hat."
"Wow." Amelia glanced up to see the last two members of their rag tag group sidling up to them, "Language there, Stark." Rhys scolded, slipping a friendly arm around her shoulders.
"Personal space, Fulton." She snapped back, picking his arm off her shoulder and throwing it back at him. She'd had to deal with his arrogant, flamboyant personality since her own Columbia days.
"I told you." Harvey tutted as he slipped in beside Ruth, "Stop trying."
They made an odd little group, the five of them, the only thing they all had in common was Amelia. Harry's dad went to MIT with her father, the last remnants of his teenage freckles scattered across his cheeks and a fluffy head of auburn hair to match hazel eyes, and they'd known each other since they were kids.
The only creative one of the bunch, Ruth studied photography at Yale and bunked with Amelia during term time when she wasn't swimming laps at the local pool or winning medals on the track. Amelia had never seen someone so athletic before in her life. The woman was up and about, hopping into a shower after a run around the quad before Amelia had even had her coffee in the morning, barely a bead of sweat on her tanned skin.
The burly, muscular Rhys studied the same business course as Harry at Columbia and stood at least a foot taller than all of them combined, his wispy brown hair always combed back from his dull blue eyes.
Then, last but not least, there was Harvey. The only decent member of their group, in her opinion. A gentleman through and through and easy on the eyes to boot, with curved cheekbones and soft chocolatey brown eyes hidden under wavy brown hair. Harvey was the only one who attended a different school, studying law at Harvard. He was the only one of the three boys Amelia would be open to dating, if he didn't have an adorably obvious crush on Ruth. Obvious to her, at least. The two of them flitted about each other completely oblivious.
"Drinks?" Harvey questioned with a raised eyebrow, rubbing his hands together.
A mischievous smile crawled across Amelia's lips as she eyed a familiar face staring at her on the other side of the bar. "Sit down, Harvard." Amelia waved at him, "This one's on me."
"Here we go." Ruth smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Amelia tilted her head as she approached the bar. "Evan." Amelia greeted slyly, catching the man's smoky green gaze.
"Amy." He smiled back, glancing her up and down. "What can I get you?" he asked, "Other than my shirt back."
"Whatever you want." Amelia flirted, winking at the blonde he was chatting to a moment ago.
Evan laughed, a deep, sultry noise and leaned on the opposite side, bringing his gorgeous face closer to hers. "I want my shirt back." he breathed and Amelia nodded, lips parted sightly.
"Well, then." Amelia took the challenge, hopping up onto the bar and swinging her legs over, "Fight you for it?"
"Are we really doing this again?" he asked tiredly but the wolfish smile on his lips told her he was game as Amelia dropped down on the other side.
"Competing again, are we?" Harry shouted over to them, a knowing glint to his eye.
"Blame him." Amelia tapped Evan's chest, "He's the one getting touchy over a shirt."
Rhys clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of the students, "Place your bets!" He called, "Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets!"
Harvey leaned over towards the speaker system, sliding through the playlist until he found a particular song, drawing a deep laugh from her lips as the familiar melody played.
Dearly beloved, for your entertainment it is my pleasure to introduce to you Hell's latest arrival…
"Don't worry." Amelia took out a ten dollar bill, handing her purse to Rhys as he stepped by, tucking the bill into his back pocket. "I'll go easy on you."
"You ready?" Evan set his hands at her waist, leading her over to the ping pong table as a strapping young man, no doubt a football player, set up the game of flip cup along the edge.
"Ready." She nodded and the two sprung to life as the song swept into the first verse.
Cheers sounded as the game set off, the beer sliding down Amelia's throat, and she turned the cup upside down on the edge of the table, flicking her finger on the edge, failing the first time to succeed the second. They matched each other for the first three cups, keeping it close, and Amelia locked eyes with Evan as they finished the fourth cup simultaneously.
Amelia landed her cup on the third try this time, nudging the table with her hip just as Evan's cup flew, knocking it from the table. "Something to say?" she asked innocently after finishing her fifth cup, his eyes narrowed at her accusingly.
"You're a devil, Amelia Stark." He laughed as she flipped the cup upside down on her first try, clawing ahead of him in the race.
Clever as the devil and twice as pretty. "And you lose, sweetheart." Amelia cooed, the final cup flipping seamlessly through the air to land at the very edge of the table, teetering dangerously.
"Who had bets on Stark?" Rhys called, fighting to be heard over the clamor of cheers.
Immediately, a dozen hands shot up into the air, all of them backing Amelia's win and she smiled apologetically at Evan.
"How are you so much better at drinking than I am?" he whined, smiling all the way through it.
Amelia had two words for him: Tony and Stark. "Let's be real, I'm better than you at everything." She said instead, fiddling with the lip of a cup.
Evan quirked and eyebrow, "After that speedy game, I'll bet your aim is off."
Amelia took the challenge, stepping back from the ping pong table. "Set em up, boys." She instructed and Rhys bounced forwards, forming a triangle of cups either end of the table whilst Harry went round pouring out a keg.
"No, please." Amelia insisted as Ruth held out the ball, "Let Mister Air Force go first."
Evan scoffed, "Ladies first."
"Don't say I didn't warn you." Amelia shrugged, plucking the ball from Ruth's flat palm.
The ball arced through the air, bouncing once on the table to land with a plop in the first cup. "Remind me." Amelia frowned playfully, picking at a nail as Evan drank down the beer, taking his first shot and missing terribly. "Who got you into the Air Force to begin with?"
Evan rolled the ball back to her and she took the second shot, Evan's eyes widening as it splashed straight in, no bounce required. "Oh, that's right." Amelia clicked her fingers, holding Evan's gaze as he guzzled the beer. "My godfather is a lieutenant colonel." She smiled as Evan missed again and Amelia landed her third shot, a moment later adding a fourth to her luck. "And I spent my weekends learning how to shoot when I was sixteen." The fifth one Amelia missed on purpose, sighing. "I guess I still got a lot to learn, though."
"She's not the only one." Harry muttered proudly from behind her as his best friend demolished her opponent, and in such stylish fashion.
Finally, Evan landed a shot, the ball ricocheting off the front cup to land in the middle, plopping into the beer, and Amelia fished it out, downing the golden liquid as she rolled the slimy ball between her fingers.
"Go on." Evan taunted weakly, spreading his arms wide, "I'm not afraid."
Amelia's smile grew on her lips, meting into a devilishly sweet smirk and she took aim. "You sure?"
Evan gave a small nod, holding her gaze as Amelia through it, right up until the ball bounced uncomfortably close to the top of his last cup, and he swiped it from the air, slamming the table as he slapped his hand down and the crowd broke out in jeers. "Alright." He conceded, "You win."
"Who's surprised?" Rhys asked rhetorically, glancing around to rub it in.
"Better luck next time, bud." Harvey consoled, clapping him on the shoulder.
Evan didn't seem at all fazed, just watched Amelia with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest as he assessed her. "So, how'd you do it?" he prompted, stepping up close.
"Do what?" she asked innocently, brushing a strand of black hair over her shoulder.
"No one is that good at beer pong." Evan reasoned, "Not even the great Amelia Stark."
"Maybe Lady Luck has me in her good books." She tried. Unsuccessfully, sighing at Evan's disbelieving smirk. "Alright." She surrendered. "First, the table." She held up a single finger, brown eyes sparkling as Evan shook his head. It's not cheating at all if it serves a good enough purpose, Amelia thought slyly. "Second, calculate trajectory of the ball." A second finger. "Finally, factor in weight of the ball, human error, environment and all that, and you have a winning combination." She finished by patting his cheek, smiling girlishly.
"And you calculated all that in the space of a few minutes?"
Amelia shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "What can I say? Most girls my age grew up studying Cosmo and personality tests but me?" she winked, "I grew up taking apart my father's bikes and setting his kitchen on fire."
Evan chuckled, "Is this your way of saying you're not like other girls?"
"I would never." Amelia gasped, offended. "Cosmo has some great tips on how to get a guy in ten days."
Evan chuckled again, then shook his head at her. "Why aren't you at MIT?"
Amelia rolled her eyes, they'd already had this conversation. "You know why."
"Come on," Evan pleaded apologetically, blocking her path as she tried to leave, his hands at her hips. "You'd run circles around them."
"I'm perfectly happy giving my professors at Yale a run for their money." Amelia defended, "Besides, they were the only ones who'd let me study my undergrad and postgrad at the same time."
"MIT would've." Evan persisted and Amelia shot him a look warning him to proceed with caution. "You know they would do anything to claim another Stark."
"My point exactly." The flash of a camera in the corner of her eye distracted her and her mood considerably shifted. "There are downsides to being a legacy."
Including the constant onslaught of press scrabbling for any decent material they could plaster the internet with, Amelia knew that better than anyone. Evan followed her line of sight, catching the discomfort, the tension in her shoulders, and grasped her hand, putting himself between her any the lanky journalist eyeing them up like pieces of meat. This particular one, lanky and pockmarked, looked young enough to blend in at all the college parties, catching the kids of the high and mighty in compromising positions. Luckily, Amelia managed to avoid him most of the time. Evan held tight to her hand, keeping himself between them as he led them out, nodding to Rhys as he tried to follow and her friend understood immediately. Him and the other footballer he chatted to slung their arms around the reporter, acting drunker than they should've been, and practically tackled him back to the ping pong table, allowing Evan and Amelia to slip out the back door unnoticed.
"Milady." Evan offered her his arm, tipping an invisible hat, and Amelia smiled.
She took it, the two of them walking arm in arm from the dank alleyway, and blended into the evening crowd of New York, the bustle of the party, the dull thuds from the speakers, growing quieter as they walked further away and into the buzzing city.
After that, the flirting got a bit more intimate, and Amelia awoke as the first morning light slipped through Evan's patchwork curtains.
Her phone pinged with a message from Pepper as she jostled about on the train up to New Haven, rolling her eyes as the link she sent attached to some sleazy celebrity watch blog. The journalist managed to catch a picture of her leaving after all, and it was scrappy, poor quality, but you could definitely make out Amelia's black hair, her sharp features, as she left with Evan.
Instead of reading the article, she deleted. There'd be hundreds of them out there by lunchtime, and Amelia had other things on her mind.
"You gonna look at that?" Ruth asked, her phone pinging again as they walked to class.
"Nope." Amelia answered, running her finger down her notes.
"What if it's important?"
Amelia sighed, taking out her phone and shoving it into Ruth's hands, "Then you answer it."
Ruth rolled her eyes, scrolling through to find the messages. "It's Evan."
"Surprise, surprise." Amelia murmured absentmindedly.
"He wants to know when you're gonna give his shirt back."
Amelia barely listened. "Both, he says, both shirts." Ruth looked up from the phone and at the grey shirt bearing the coca cola brand underneath her varsity jacket.
Finally Amelia took her eyes from her notes, glancing down at the shirt and smiling ruefully, "Tell him I'll give them back when he learns how to play beer pong."
"I'm not sending him that!" Ruth exclaimed, slapping her playfully on the arm as they walked through the quad, "Honestly, you're so mean to him I don't know why he's interested."
"It's called teasing, Ruthy." Amelia laughed, entwining her arm with Ruth's. "You really are a snowflake, you know that."
"Just because I flirt without deprecating my partner does not make me boring."
"No, but it might explain why you haven't asked Harvard out yet."
Ruth went as red as an apple, "What? No, I am not interested in Harvey."
"Shame." Amelia let go of her arm, tucking her phone back in her pocket as they reached her class, "Because he likes you."
Ruth's hazel eyes brightened with hope. Amelia ducked into the lecture hall before Ruth could ask another question, laughing a little to herself, and took her seat in the middle of the pack like always just as the professor trotted over to the lectern. "Just on time, as always, Miss Stark." She called and a few of her classmates snickered.
"Only for you, Professor Fieler." Amelia remarked, setting her notes and laptop down in front of her.
"Since you're feeling quippy this morning, you can give us the recap from last week's lecture."
"Would that be from Growth and Macroeconomics, Behavioral and Institutional Economics or International Trade Policy?" Amelia queried, "Because I can do all three if you like?"
Professor Fieler stuck a hand on her hip, trying to hold back a smile, "Alright, show off." She smirked and turned to the rest of the class, "Maybe someone with more sense than snark can tell us."
Perry, her stubby classmate and study partner, bumped shoulders with Amelia. "Sometimes I think you take more electives than is actually allowed."
Amelia blew out a breath, brushing off the comment, with a slight chuckle. Perry had a point though, not that she'd ever admit it. "Nah." Amelia whispered back, clicking her pen, "I just know how to charm all the professors."
Going home for the weekend, just to see Pepper on her birthday, was the first weekend off she'd had all year, and they were already well into the final semester. Even though she'd doubled her workload by studying two degrees at once, Amelia had piled her schedule with as many electives as possible, it was a wonder she ever had time for her compulsory ones, and the extra reading on top and… god, the list never ended. Not that it ever seemed to slow her down, Amelia boasted some of the best grades in the class, perhaps the entire department.
Professor Fieler ended the lecture by assigning an extra chapter on top of their compulsory reading and Amelia just added it to the eternal to do list and got on her merry way, stopping by the cart on the quad to grab a coffee, and rushed off to her next class, ignoring her phone as it buzzed in her pocket over and over again. Either Evan really wanted those shirts back or the picture had hit mainstream news. Amelia was beginning to get irritated by the constant buzzing, so much so by lunchtime she'd turned her phone off completely after it almost got her in trouble during her third class. Professor Garsten had it out for her ever since her father spoke against his work on the relationship between industry and political rhetoric.
Twenty minutes into her lecture on workplace democracy the Dean's secretary interrupted the class. "Sorry to interrupt Professor Lindemere." She smiled apologetically at the brunette woman leading the class, "The Dean requests Amelia Stark attend his office immediately."
Anxiety rippled through Amelia as soon as the words left the secretaries mouth. "Amy, what did you do?" Perry mouthed as Amelia gathered her notes, all eyes in the class turning to her.
"Whatever it is, I didn't do it." Amelia shot back with a shrug.
"You always say that," Perry smirked, "And I never believe you."
Amelia squeezed past all the chairs to follow the secretary out of the lecture hall. "What's going on?" Amelia asked as they hurried down the hallway through the building, up to the offices on the fourth floor and down another corridor to the one at the end.
The Dean waited for her patiently in his office, a concerned look gathering on his lined features. He offered Amelia a chair and she slowly sank into it, glancing between Dean Lewis and his secretary until she left and shut the door gently behind her.
"Have I done something?" Amelia worried, setting her bag down at her feet, "Is this about the amount of classes I'm taking, or…"
"No." the Dean took a seat behind his desk, smoothing down his tie, "This has nothing to do with you." Her anxiety only lowered an inch. "It's your father."
The photo, of course. She should've known. Amelia sighed and slumped back in her chair, this wasn't the first time she'd been called to the Dean's office for something she'd been caught doing, at least this time she wasn't directly responsible for it. "Look, I know I promised to keep away from the spotlight, but there's only so much I can…"
"No, this isn't about the photo." The Dean interrupted quickly and took a breath, eyes darting about as he picked his words carefully, clasping his fingers together over the desk. "Miss Stark, your father…"
The door to the office burst open, Pepper's red freckled face, her frantic ginger hair and ruffled suit standing in the empty frame, expression worried and panicked. "Pepper." Amelia exclaimed, standing.
"Answer your phone, young lady." She scolded and promptly wrapped her in a tight embrace.
Amelia took her arms, pulling her off, her anxiety shooting through the roof. "What is going on?" she demanded, alarmed.
Pepper never did this, she never came storming all the way to New Haven, neither did Tony. They always left it to Happy, to Uncle Rhodey, to someone, always too busy to take the time out.
"I'm so sorry." Pepper sniffled, "I've been trying to call you."
Amelia took out her phone at last, seeing the dozens of messages, of calls. She'd just assumed they were from the photo, not Pepper.
"It's your father," She explained at last, "He's been taken."