A less than friendly atmosphere welcomed Amelia when she arrived on Capitol Hill after returning from Monaco. She didn't even bother stopping in New York, she just came straight here. Someone had to douse the fires, who better than a Stark themselves? Tony certainly wasn't coming back, Pepper had enough on her plate and Rhodey had stuck his neck out one too many times. Now, it was Amelia's turn.

"Any advice before I go in?" Amelia sighed, running her fingers down the black skirt of her dress to smooth out a kink.

"Don't piss of the senators." Romanoff offered, giving her a sideways glance.

"Gee, thanks." Amelia replied sarcastically and scowled when Romanoff swatted her arm, "What was that for?"

"You're distracted." She explained, unhelpfully, "You need to focus."

Little hard to focus when your father's life was at stake, Amelia thought irritably. Every couple of seconds she came up with a new combination to try, only to write it off as something her father already knew, something he already tested. His situation was the only thing on her mind since Monaco, she'd barely paid attention as Natasha gave her a rundown on the plane, just stared out the window at the fluffy clouds whilst scribbling down permutations in a notepad.

"Hey, quit it!" Amelia cried when Natasha whacked her a second time, rubbing the spot on her arm.

"What's got you so distracted?" she queried, green eyes fixing her with a lightly worried look.

Amelia could lie to her, the thought crossed her mind, but what would be the point? Lying to a double agent, wouldn't have been her worst idea but absolutely worlds away from her best.

"He's sick." Amelia revealed after a moment's consideration, lowering her voice as they strolled down the corridors of the Capitol building.

"Is it terminal?" Natasha queried softly, matching her quiet tone.

"So he says."

"You don't believe him?"

Amelia gave a small sigh, she didn't want to believe him, and that was the only answer Natasha needed. "I'm not convinced he's tried everything to save himself." She added, "That's the part I don't believe."

Romanoff fixed her with a hard look, as if silently accusing her of lying, like a mother raising both eyebrows at her mischievous child, and Amelia really shouldn't have bothered in the first place. "Stop that." She chided and a smile tainted Natasha's green eyes. "You're really gonna make me say it?"

"I thought I might."

"Well it ain't gonna happen."

Natasha raised her eyebrows again, simply waiting with a curious look, a curious and infuriatingly knowing look, until Amelia crumbled. "I don't want to lose him, alright?" Amelia breathed, "I need him, he's my father."

Natasha gave her a consoling pat on the shoulder as they approached the committee chamber. "Let me see what I can do." She promised, "It's possible Tony doesn't have all the information."

"You think SHIELD knows something he doesn't?" Amelia frowned, a stupid question really. Turns out Amelia was full of stupidity this morning.

"SHIELD always knows something you don't." Natasha smiled conspiratorially, leaving her at the chamber's entrance.

"Because that's not ominous or anything." Amelia whispered to herself as an aide opened the door for her.

The flash of the cameras was obscenely loud as Amelia stepped in, the crowd of military advisors, congressional aides and reporters growing quiet as she stepped along the aisle towards the table set up at the front. Amelia even spotted a few businessmen in the crowd, the circling vultures waiting to see if this recent incident harmed the company at all.

Senator Stern sat at the head of the committee, the rest of them spread out along the bench like before, each in the same position, and he watched her with a smug look in his ratty eyes. "Considering the recent events in Monaco, I think it beneficial to disregard the occurrences of the previous hearing and pick up from a clean slate, don't you think Miss Stark?" Senator Stern began, entwining his fingers before him on the desk.

"No." Amelia answered simply, her eyes drawn to the front row when a voice subtly cleared their throat, spotting the familiar hard edges of her godfather's face. "I believe whatever testimony given previously still has value and to write it off simply because of what happened in Monaco would be a hindrance to the legal process."

"I would have thought you would welcome the chance to amend your testimony."

"The essence of my testimony remains the same." The answer received a few hushed rumbles, a few flashing cameras, and Amelia clenched her hands in her lap, hidden under the table. "I maintain the primary function of the suit is defence, not offense, so there is no need."

The senator gave a quick chuckle, "You mistake me, Miss Stark, I was referring to your statement declaring no one other than Mister Stark would possess this technology for twenty years."

Amelia kept her features blank, "If you paid attention to the record, Senator you would know that parameter applied solely to Mister Hammer."

"Stop trying to be clever." Rhodey whispered behind her, hiding it with a cough and Amelia took a breath.

She softened her features, trying a light-hearted look, to please the group of men sitting in front of her, and cleared her throat. "I cannot deny the technology demonstrated in Monaco bears a striking resemblance to that used in the Iron Man suit."

"So you admit you were mistaken."

Amelia grit her teeth. Did it sound like that was what she said? "This technology has been around for thirty years." She clarified, "Ever since Stark Industries developed the first reactor on our west coast compound."

"Therefore your previous testimony stating no one could possess the technology is false."

Amelia shook her head gently, "We never claimed no one would develop the technology."

"No, you said it wouldn't happen for another five to ten years and yet someone had it yesterday, Miss Stark." Stern interrupted, as if he enjoyed leaving her scraping for words. The bastard probably did, just so he could see her hanging, so he could provoke her.

Instead she smoothed over her knotting features once again. "The tech used in Monaco was a primitive demonstration at best." Amelia reasoned calmly, refusing to take the senator's bait. "There is no reason to suggest anyone other than Tony Stark possesses the full capabilities of developing a functioning suit."

"The very fact an individual was capable of creating a primitive version suggests that capability." Stern argued, "The genie is out of the bottle, Miss Stark, it is clear to us your father has no idea what he's doing."

"If my father had no clue what he was doing he would've died in Monaco, hell, he would've died in that cave in Afghanistan."

"He thinks of the Iron Man weapon as a toy." Stern interrupted. Again.

"It is not a weapon." Amelia insisted forcibly, "How many times do I have to prove that?"

"It is clear to us the suit is not currently under responsible supervision." Stern continued, disregarding Amelia's comment entirely. "The events in Monaco prove what I have been saying all along."

Amelia couldn't stop the frustration bleeding into her tone. "The suit belongs to Stark, it is both his intellectual and material property, and last I checked theft, even by those chosen to govern, was still illegal."

"This is not a legal matter anymore, Miss Stark, it is a matter of national security."

"Tony Stark has protected this country for almost twenty years and only ten percent of that has been done with the suit."

"The Iron Man weapon has become a threat to our security, how else would you categorize the events in Monaco?"

A frown crinkled her forehead more from confusion than any irritation. The ease with which politicians twisted and distorted the truth continued to astound her. "It was not an attack on the United States." Amelia explained slowly, "The attacker sought to harm Tony Stark alone."

"You cannot know that for sure, Miss Stark." Stern countered, even as a few mumblings rippled through the chamber. "It was an attack that put civilians in harm's way, how is that not risking security?"

"Because as I've been claiming since the beginning, the Iron Man suit is designed for defence, to protect not destroy, and is fully capable of avoiding civilian casualties." Amelia spoke clearly, intent on getting the message heard this time. "Can the US government claim the same?"

A tense silence filled the room, not even the reporters dared break it by clicking their cameras, and Stern caught the challenge in Amelia's fierce brown eyes. "We are not here to discuss the casualties of conflict, Miss Stark." Stern reminded slowly, his eyes darting to the press, "What is in question is the downright dangerous risk the Iron Man weapon poses in Mister Stark's hands."

The senator's words gave Amelia an opening that suddenly made this very interesting. "And why shouldn't we be talking about conflict?" Amelia queried, tilting her head and felt a warning poke in her shoulder. A warning she took pleasure in ignoring. "After all your argument is based solely on the fact you don't trust a citizen of this nation with the responsibility of national security."

"Our argument is the people deserve the Iron Man weapon held to account."

"Which raises one question, Senator." Amelia pointed out, "If Tony Stark doesn't serve the people, why has he supported our forces overseas, protected American soldiers and eliminated potential threats before they have the chance to strike?"

Stern's ratty eyes flared, realizing the trap Amelia began to set and his inevitable catch. "It is irresponsible to leave the protection of one nation in the hands of one man." He tried to backpedal, to focus on Tony Stark, on her father, but it backfired.

Oh, how badly it was about to backfire on him, and it put a imperceivable smile on Amelia's lips. "Our Commander in Chief has the power to issue a nuclear strike whenever he so chooses and you allow it."

"I'll remind you our President is elected by the people and does not demonstrate frankly erratic behaviour."

"And there you have it." Amelia spread her hands on the table, "The Senate Armed Forces Committee does not want the suit handed over to serve the people, it simply does not want it in the hands of Tony Stark." Amelia straightened her back, lifted her chin. "We are currently experiencing our longest period of peace in decades, civilian casualties in areas of conflict have severely decreased due to the actions of Tony Stark, the facts are against you."

The senator tried interrupting a third time, "You're forgetting…"

"I'm not finished." Amelia slapped her hand on the table, a tense silence sweeping through the chamber and the fierce look burning in her brown eyes silenced the senator for good. "A recent poll run by your own department showed an eighty-nine percent approval rating for the actions of Tony Stark as Iron Man, whereas approval ratings for President Ellis and the Department of Defence is considerably lower." She folded her fingers over the table. "Your own even less after you publicly flipped off my father." She paused to let that sink in, to let the mumblings follow through, and just to watch Stern squirm in his seat. "The actions of one man, however immature, has done what an entire government has failed to do." Amelia offered the cameras a single glance for effect. "The events in Monaco prove Iron Man will never stop protecting us, even from our own technology." Amelia pushed back her chair to stand, locking Stern's gaze in her own. "The suit will never belong to the government so stop asking, am I understood?"

Stern held her gaze for a moment, the irritation stirring amongst the soiled brown, and then he took in the crowd, all of them hanging off Amelia's demand, the cameras catching her in that moment, and eventually lifted his gavel. The bang of the gavel broke the growing tension, shoulders easing, breaths releasing, and Stern himself seemed to deflate. "We're adjourned." He announced defeatedly, "That'll be all today, Miss Stark you're welcome to leave."

Don't mind if I do. Amelia swept from the table, storming back along the aisle as the crowd clamoured to stand, to follow after her, to get their word in with her, whether it be a victorious shake of the hand or a pithy comment just to get the last word in, Amelia didn't care. She didn't care for any of it, she just kept walking, the aide whisking open the door for her.

"Do you and Tony take pleasure in making my job harder?" Rhodey complained, catching up to her as soon as she was through the door.

"I answered his questions." Amelia pointed out, "And I did it without hacking the servers this time, what more do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop passively threatening the American government."

"I didn't threaten anyone." Amelia stopped to scoff.

Rhodey repeated her final statement, mimicking her fierce look, "What do you call that, huh?"

The corner of Amelia's lip perked, "Making a stand."

Rhodey threw up his hands in defeat, glancing at his watch as they stepped out of the Senate building, catching her elbow lightly and the two stopped amongst the famous marble columns. "You and your father share a lot of traits, Amy." He warned, "Don't let reckless stupidity be one of them."

"I'm not gonna do anything crazy, I just don't want to see the Iron Man suit in the wrong hands." Amelia gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, dropping her eyes.

He won't be around to protect it forever.

Rhodey gave her a once over before nodding, stuffing his hands into his pants. "You want a lift from the airport tomorrow?"

"You'd be doing me a huge favour." Amelia answered and Rhodey nodded again, leaving her standing amongst the white.

In truth, she didn't know what she was doing anymore. Anyone who knew her well enough could see it in the tight set of her lips, the permanent frown in her brown eyes, as if she'd forgotten something incredibly important. Lord knows how much work she had to catch up on when she returned to campus, Amelia didn't even want to think about all the papers stacking up, all the questioning eyebrows at her empty seat in the lecture hall. Amelia took a certain pride in her spotless attendance record, a record that now had a huge Tony shaped hole in. The only thing her thoughts were capable of focusing on right now was the next combination.

So the last thing Amelia needed right now was Justin Hammer himself sauntering up to her.

"Mister Hammer." She greeted, a blank mask fixing onto her sharp features. "Here to wrestle back your government contracts?"

Hammer laughed awkwardly, "You know these types, can't make their minds up on what they want." He waved a finger at Amelia. "Hell, you're here often enough you're practically becoming one."

"Indecisive, temperamental and petulant?"

Another awkward laugh, "A politician, I mean."

Amelia allowed herself a disbelieving scoff, "You suggesting I make a career change?"

"Wouldn't be the worst idea, I watched your little speech in there, very persuasive." He spread his hands suggestively.

Amelia narrowed her eyes at the ratty business and his block glasses as they slipped down his lined nose. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Hammer crossed his arms over his chest. "Father keeping you busy, huh?"

"In that case…" Amelia switched her bag to her other arm as if to make a move down the steps and Hammer's arm shot out to stop her, grabbing her elbow.

"Now, I hate to beat around the bush." Hammer started, "But I can't imagine you're content allowing Tony to pass Stark Industries to his assistant, as lovely as she might be."

"My father does what he thinks is best." Amelia replied, clenching her hand around the strap of her bag.

"Best for who?"

"Everyone."

Hammer chuckled his disagreement, "You mean best for himself."

"Not when it comes to the company." Amelia stated clearly, "Pepper Potts will make an exceptional CEO."

"Better than Howard Stark's own flesh and blood?" Hammer stared deep into her eyes, trying to dig out a reaction, "Come on, it must burn you that he gave the company to someone else."

"Currently, my studies occupy my time." Amelia deflected, grip clenching on the straps of her bag.

"Yet Tony has you here doing his dirty work, cleaning up his messes."

"Are you calling the incident in Monaco a mess?"

"Not at all." He shook his head, holding up his hands innocently, "It was just awful the destruction that man did."

"It's a good job he won't be able to do it again."

"Yes." Hammer nodded enthusiastically but Amelia caught the ghost of a smile in his eye. "Prison is the only place for a man such as him." he snapped his fingers at her, the look gone as quickly as it arrived. "But I didn't ask you here to talk about that."

Deflection. Amelia knew it when she heard it and a bad feeling settled in her gut. "Then why did you ask to speak with me?"

"Because you and I are a lot alike, you know." He answered and Amelia let her mask slip enough to raise an eyebrow. "We're both ambitious, both focused, determined." Amelia prayed the similarities stopped there. "And I know if I had something taken from me, something that rightfully belonged to me, I wouldn't stand idly by and watch it happen."

Did Hammer really not see the irony of his words? The whole reason Amelia stood on these steps was to stop something being taken. Instead of going back to Cambridge, returning to her books, her notes or her robotics project, Amelia stood here defending the actions of her father before the United States government. If only Amelia could be back in Cambridge, the whole trip had been a disaster right from the start, and Amelia hadn't even wanted to go in the first place.

Hammer tapped her arm lightly with the back of his hand, the corner of his lip quirking. "I figured you and I could do something with that." He offered and Amelia bit back a snort.

Honestly, if she hadn't been so astounded by his arrogant stupidity she would've laughed in his face. "You're kidding me, right?" she exclaimed but there was nothing humorous about him.

"What better way to get back at Anthony than go work for his competitor?"

"Hammer Industries is not a competitor." Amelia snipped before she could stop herself, "We're leagues above you in the stock market, Roxxon would be more of a threat than you."

A kid with a lemonade stand would pose more of a threat to Stark Industries than Hammer.

"But it's not you, is it?" Hammer reminded her, "Not anymore, daddy dearest made sure of that."

A dozen retorts filled her mind as she stared his snarky look down but she held back each and every one of them, instead plastering on the politest smile she could muster whilst each of her words dripped with the sweetest venom. "Thank you for the offer, Mister Hammer, but it's gonna be a no."

As Amelia took a single step away Hammer slid in front, blocking her path and inching just a little too close for comfort in order to stop her. "Take some time, think it over." He insisted, tucking a business card into the outer pocket of her bag. Amelia tried to sidestep him but Hammer blocked her again.

Gritting her teeth, Amelia invaded his space, ignoring the stench of his aftershave, and stared him down till he took a step back. "I don't need your charity." She told him.

Amelia plucked his card from her bag, slotting it in the front pocket of his suit, her heels clicking against the marble steps as she made her way down from the Congress building.

"Hey, Stark!" Rhys greeted, taking his hand out his pocket to give her a little wave as she met him across the courtyard, "You okay?"

Amelia shook off her shoulders, shaking away the shiver running up her spine. "Perfectly fine." Amelia lied, letting him draw her into a one armed hug. "Now, don't you have some documents to show me?"

Rhys nodded, slowly, running a hand through his wispy brown hair, bobbing the briefcase in his hand. "Let's find somewhere quiet, shall we?"

Amelia agreed and the two of them walked a few streets down where they found a café tucked on the corner, a collection of businessmen and women chatting quietly over a coffee filling the small place with a low hum of activity, the brown brick walls decorated with dozens of pictures of Capitol Hill dating all the way back to when it was first built.

Rhys took a file from the case once they were settled, his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, tie loose around his collar. "Vanko." He slid the manila folder across to her, "He was a Soviet physicist who defected here in the sixties, only to be deported four years later on accusations of espionage."

Amelia flicked open the file, flipping through the news articles, the redacted files. "How typically Cold War of them." Amelia mumbled to herself, pausing when she came to an immigration report, her brow knitting together. "Employed by Stark Industries."

And now, like all guilty men, you try to rewrite your own history and you forget all the lives the Stark family has destroyed.

"You know, I always thought you looked pretty cute when you were thinking." Rhys leaned back in his chair, slinging an arm over the back.

"Stop flirting, I'm trying to concentrate." Amelia snapped, "Did you bring me the other one?"

Once again, he reached in his briefcase and brought out a chunkier file. "Senator Stern has a reputation in the DoJ for not exactly being forthcoming in his reports." Rhys informed her apologetically, "You're lucky I could even get you that."

"Sounds like someone doesn't want a paper trail." Amelia surmised, taking a sip from his coffee before he could get the chance.

"You know that's piping hot, right?" he pointed out.

Amelia just shrugged, swallowing the bitter coffee. "No pain, no gain."

Amelia picked through Stern's file, his records, his history. "No military background, I know." Rhys sighed, twisting the cup with one hand, "It's a wonder he even got the position on the Armed Forces Committee in the first place."

"Coasted on daddy's money in his early life, prep schools, internships, summer camps, then worked his way through law school." Amelia read aloud.

"Then a hefty Philadelphia law firm before swinging into politics." Rhys finished.

"Swinging?" Amelia's eyebrow quirked at the choice of word.

"Like a freaking wrecking ball." Rhys defended, "He didn't just hit politics, he hit it hard." He pointed to the file, "First he was a State's Attorney, and a pretty hard ball one at that, then punched straight into the Senate and hasn't been beat since."

"How'd he get the committee gig, then?"

"Beats me." Rhys shrugged, "Must have some friends in high places."

"Or low." Amelia murmured to herself, flipping closed the file, "Did you find anything on why they want Dad's suit so badly?"

Rhys gave a half-hearted chuckle. "I'm in justice, Amelia, not defence."

Amelia gave a wry smile, "Don't tell me you haven't made friends, a charmer like you?"

Now Rhys rolled his eyes, "As much as you like teasing me, this time I've got nothing for you."

"Seriously?" Amelia frowned.

"I told you, Stern doesn't like reports."

"Stern isn't the only one on the committee, what about the other pasty white men he sits beside?"

"He might not be the only one, but he's the chair, he decides what goes and apparently files don't make the cut."

Amelia sat back in her chair. "What about all the hearings, surely there's a record of all the testimonies?"

"Sure." Rhys took a few more pages from his briefcase, dumping them on the table, "If you wanna know what everyone has already said, go for it, I don't exactly see how it'll help."

Amelia took the papers anyway. "Maybe there's something I missed."

"This is really bothering you, isn't it?"

Amelia fiddled with the corner of a page, Vanko's folder still open on a news article detailing his work in America. "I might not approve of the big ugly, red and gold brute staining my life but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone take it." she justified. Rhys didn't need to know the truth, he didn't need to know how urgently Amelia needed a way out.

Rhys chuckled. "I'll bet you like being called the Iron Daughter too much."

Amelia narrowed her eyes at Rhys, "Call me that one more time and I'll throw my coffee all over your Gucci suit."

Rhys ran a hand down the shirt. "It's Armani, actually."

"Well, as fun as this has been, I have a textbook calling my name." Amelia tucked the records into the file and safely into her bag, taking a second sip of his coffee for good measure.

"Not so fast, Stark." Rhys called as Amelia stood, "You owe me one now."

"And one day I might return the favour." Amelia flashed an angelic smile.

"I'd like to cash in now."

"And what, exactly, do you want from me, Fulton?" Amelia regretted asking as soon as the words left her lips, disappearing out into the spring air. "On second thought, I don't wanna know."

"Good to know you hold me in such high regard." Fulton quipped, following her out and along the street, tapping the side of his coffee cup idly.

"I survived twelve years knowing you, I know just how bad it could be."

"If you're referring to that school dance when we were fifteen, I have changed a lot since then." Rhys chuckled, "You owe me one Stark, how bad can a date be?"

Amelia stopped in the street with a frown, catching the sincerity in his roguish eyes. "A date?" she questioned, her frown deepening, "Did Ruth rope you into this?"

"I'll pick you up tonight, eight o clock?" Rhys quirked an eyebrow, avoiding the question, and leaned closer enticingly, "You know you want to."

Amelia took a breath, rolling her eyes. "Alright, but after that we're square."

Rhys hailed a cab for her, holding the door as she ducked inside, and peered in after. "I'll see you tonight." He smirked, slamming the door.

Amelia rolled down the window, pointing at him. "You better not be late."

Rhys placed a hand over his heart as Amelia relayed the hotel to the driver. "Scouts honour." He promised.

Amelia smiled at him before the cab drove off, "You were never a scout."

As soon as Amelia got back to her hotel room she spread the files out, scattering them across the floor when they wouldn't all fit on the desk, swapping her sleek black dress for jeans and a white tank in a look leftover from the 90s.

A deported physicist, his criminal offspring and stolen Stark tech. Those were the pieces of the puzzle Amelia had to work with, now how on earth did they all slot together?

Did her grandfather have Vanko deported? Is that what had his son all torn up in knots? "But if he was selling secrets, they had every right." Amelia whispered, trying to puzzle it out.

Vanko likely ended up in Siberia, if he didn't live up to Soviet era standards, and given the leathery features of his son it's likely that's where the anger started. The snowy wasteland of Siberia didn't sound like an idyllic family home.

So Amelia had the motive, sure, that's one piece in place. The son wanted justice, wanted revenge, for his father, most likely for himself and for whatever reason waited till now to get it. The moment her father reached peak popularity. If you can make God bleed, the people will cease to believe in him.

That still didn't explain the reactor. The opportunity? Guy was a criminal, he no doubt had dozens of less than legal contacts to score him a ticket to the grand prix. She dragged over the pages detailing Vanko's time at Stark Industries, a couple newspaper articles, a recruitment drive and the immigration papers, but nothing that gave anything about his work away. Cleaner energy was something of an obsession for her grandfather, she knew that much. All the archives Obadiah showed her at the company proved that, a dozen experiments, failed projects, all trying to crack the key to clean energy. The reactor had been the first thing that actually worked, so if Vanko had his hand in it that would explain it. The evidence just wasn't there.

Amelia propped her head on her knee with a sigh, letting the page fall, and turned her head towards the clock. She liked to think she'd gone through all of it thoroughly enough, that she hadn't missed something, but every time she tried to focus she found her mind drawing her back to her date. Amelia hadn't actually been on a proper date since Evan took her to see Gentlemen Prefer Blondes at a lovely old theatre in Lower Manhattan, unless you count letting someone practice law on you a date. From what she knew, Rhys dazzled and pampered a woman on the first date. A showy restaurant, refusing to let anyone but himself pay, then a walk along the Hudson if the weather allowed. "There's nothing more beautiful than the reflection of the stars in the water's surface." He'd say and follow it up with some corny compliment that had the girl swooning. If it were winter, they'd go for a warm drink somewhere high up, somewhere you could see the New York skyline.

Amelia crinkled her nose, wondering why she cared enough to remember all that, and cringing when she asked if he'd do it for her. They'd known each other since high school, she knew all his tricks, she scoffed at all his tricks. Him and Matt were born of the same cloth, a gentleman till the lights go off.

A groan slipped out as she leant back against the end of her bed. Of course Matt would pop into her head, how could she expect anything less? She pulled herself up to the desk, folding her legs beneath her and set to doing some studying instead. Anything to get this trivial dilemma out of her head.

Did she like Rhys? Sure, she'd give him a chance, she wouldn't have agreed to the date if a part of her thought it couldn't work. Amelia didn't want to waste her time like that. The other part of her wanted to keep the promise she made Ruth. Nothing good would come if they continued like this. Matty would never stop being Matty, and Amelia couldn't live like that, coming home to find him spitting blood in the sink or nursing a split lip. Amelia already had one man in her life who lived life on the edge, she didn't need another, and unfortunately one of them couldn't be replaced.

Amelia shook her head, slapping her cheeks lightly. So much for distracting herself, she thought as she slammed shut the textbook and got up to change again. In the end she went with something simple. If Rhys had any sense after their long friendship he'd know Amelia didn't appreciate the glamor, the fuss. Growing up America's richest heiress, she had enough of that at home, slipping on a white top with long sleeves that tied in a neat bow at, leaving her back bare, keeping the jeans and fitting her feet into a pair of tan boots.

Rhys met her in the lobby once the time came, making a point of being early, and took her to a snazzy restaurant a couple blocks away. The long room was filled with brown circular tables, a long, rectangular bar and tanned leather booths tucked away on the far side, a live band spilling music out onto the street as they arrived. Plants dotted the restaurant and little square lamps sat on the tables, giving it a warm atmosphere and Amelia had to say she was impressed. No glitz, no glamor, just good entertainment and most importantly good food.

"Okay, I'll give you that, it is good." Amelia admitted, shoveling a forkful of risotto into her mouth.

"You're an absolute monster when you eat." Rhys chuckled with two raised eyebrows.

"You got a problem with that?" Amelia snapped back, through her mouthful.

"On the contrary." Rhys shook his head, taking an even bigger bite of his burger, sauce dribbling down his chin. "Now there's two of us."

Whatever worry Amelia had got swept away each time Rhys made her laugh, each time he said something so horribly goofy it made her cringes start cringing. Amelia had expected the showman, the chauvinistic gentleman meant to sweep her off her feet and instead she got Rhys. Just good old, ordinary Rhys. No tricks, no traps, just him and by the time dinner was over Amelia felt herself wanting to walk down Constitution Avenue with him. God, she'd never hear the end of it when Ruth eventually found out.

"So it wasn't that bad, huh?" Rhys grinned as they passed by the Vietnam Memorial, the warm streetlight reflecting in the polished surface.

"I give it a seven outta ten." Amelia shrugged.

"A seven?" Rhys whined, "Seriously?"

"You're lucky you got higher than a five."

Rhys chuckled, "Jeez, I forgot how high your standards are."

"My standards are not that high." Amelia defended, "I just know what I want."

"And what's that?"

A dozen things flooded Amelia's mind and none of them were romantic, her brown eyes falling. Rhys gave her a friendly bump on the shoulder, seeing her expression fall along with them. "I'm sorry about the CEO position, by the way." He said softly.

Amelia glanced up, frowning for a moment and then realized. "Right." She brushed a hand along the Memorial, fingers bumping along the names etched into the stone. "The company." The company had been the last thing on her list of priorities since Monaco. "It's no biggy."

"Come on, Amy, you've wanted your dad's company since we were kids."

The company wasn't the only thing but she'd rather lose that than anything else. Amelia dropped her hand, giving him a small smile. "What do you want me to say?"

"That you're pissed."

"Alright," Amelia surrendered, spreading her arms wide, "I'm pissed."

Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. "Then act like it."

Amelia breathed out, frustrated. "You told me to say it."

"Cause I thought you would be."

Amelia sighed as the path drew them to the Lincoln Memorial, warm lights illuminating the tall marble pillars, the long steps. "I guess I was at first." She admitted.

"And now?"

Now…? Amelia climbed a few of the steps, settling down on the cool marble and leaning back on her hands, glancing along the rippling Washington Monument reflected in the long pool of water, the needlepoint tower piercing the growing darkness in the distance. "I guess I'm just tired of it all."

Rhys perched beside her, one step below, lying back on one elbow. "So why don't you do something about it?"

"Not the kind of tired a good night's sleep can solve." She joked.

"You're one of the smartest people I've ever met, Amelia there's gotta be a dozen people out there who would do anything to hire you."

Amelia frowned, "Are you telling me to go work for someone else?" He wouldn't be the first to suggest that today.

"Why not?" Rhys sat up, "Hell, why not consider a different career altogether?"

Amelia leaned forward, narrowing her eyes, "Is this a recruitment drive?"

"I'm just saying, you aren't afraid to stick it where it hurts, have you ever given K Street a thought?"

"Lobbying?"

"Put both your political expertise and business degrees to work, then you got the best of both worlds."

Amelia tangled her fingers together, brows molding into a thoughtful frown. The idea of something else, of diverting from the path she set herself, it wasn't something new to Amelia. She'd thought about it once before, back at school, the day they asked Amelia what she wanted to be when she grew up. Back then, a million things seemed possible. She hadn't asked for much as a kid, and when she did they never said no. Amelia had a sheltered childhood, she knew that much, and she knew whatever path she chose they would let her follow it. The teacher asked her, she said, "Amy, what do you want to grow up to be?" and Amelia had opened her mouth to answer, to let the options flood out, until someone answered for her.

"She's going to grow up to be just like her dad, aren't you sweetheart?"

Just like my dad. The whole world wanted Amelia to be just like her dad, so much so they convinced Amelia she wanted it too. Everyone except him, the person she wanted to be most.

"Perhaps you have a point." She finally whispered and Rhys lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Hold on," he held up a hand, an inexplicably shocked expression passed over Rhys' bulky features. "Did I just convince the great Amelia Stark to do something?" he hopped up on his feet, crouching beside her with a sloppy grin. "Is this day actually happening?"

Amelia shoved him back playfully, sharing in his laugh. "You talk too much, Fulton." She smiled, letting him shuffle closer to her on the step.

"And you talk just the right amount for a lobbyist, you'd fit right in."

"DC is a beautiful city."

Rhys tucked a stray hair behind her ear, "Only when you're here."

An awkward cough split the moment down the middle, the two of their heads snapping back and Amelia groaned inwardly as she recognized the figure. "I swear to god, if that's you Coulson I am not going to be happy." Amelia growled, keeping her brown gaze on Rhys as confusion filled the blue.

"Hello to you too." The agent greeted, hands clasped in front of him and he nodded stiffly at Rhys.

"Amy?" Rhys frowned at the stoic man, his crisp suit and stern look. "Who is this guy?"

"I'm gonna have to give you a rain check on the rest of our date." Amelia said regrettably, pulling Rhys onto his feet. "But I had a great time."

"But…" Rhys stammered, glancing between her and Coulson.

"The lady said goodnight." Coulson interjected, giving him a blank stare that oozed animosity like a growling tiger.

Rhys lingered, glancing quizzically between the two until Amelia nodded. He said a quick goodbye, turning on his heel and walking back the way they came, the two of them watching until he'd disappeared through the trees. "Well that wasn't necessary." Amelia exclaimed, turning to the morbid man.

"No, but it was entertaining." Coulson countered, leading Amelia up the steps and into the Lincoln Memorial, the marble statue of the seated president looming over the two of them as they stepped between the great columns.

"Director Fury." Amelia crossed her arms over her chest as the one eyed man twisted, still wearing the same long leather coat, the mysterious persona. "Are black turtlenecks part of the uniform or is it a personal thing?"

"I didn't come to discuss my fashion choices, Miss Stark."

"Then why did you come?"

"Have you given any more thought to my proposal?"

"I'm quite the hot commodity it seems." Suddenly everyone wanted to offer her a job.

"You're a smart woman, Miss Stark, that is hardly surprising."

"You can't have come all this way just to check in." Amelia guessed.

"It's not all that far, actually." Coulson jumped in, pointing out towards the river. "You can see his office from here."

"You've been digging into Vanko." Fury explained, "Why?"

Amelia chuckled, "I should think that were obvious."

"Vanko died in a French prison less than twenty-four hours ago."

A deep frown drew her brows together, "How?"

"That's exactly what we want to know." Fury relaxed his stance. "There are three people in this world who know how to build an arc reactor."

"And dozens more who seek that knowledge." Amelia finished, "You don't want me, you want what I know."

"We want to make sure that knowledge stays in the right hands." Fury corrected, trying to sugar coat the lie to make it more honest, more believable.

"What do you want?" Amelia got right to the point, sick of all the deflection.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Oh, how very cryptic. "Find me a cure." Amelia negotiated, "Then we can talk."