November 24th 2001

'Killing people is bad, isn't it?' They were in the private workshop at Stark, fine tuning a propulsion system for missiles that would use less power and therefore lighten the load of the vehicles that carried it. Lessening the fuel requirements. Improving, tweaking- making the process of war efficient and cheaper.
Her question came sort of out of the blue, but with her growing interest in the world around them rather than just the things that captured her mind, it wasn't unexpected.

'Yes, it is' No hesitation. Doesn't matter what race or religion or whatever you subscribed to- killing people=BAD. Tony knew what was coming, and not a billion dollars could stop it. He remembered wanting to ask Howard the same question, but never being able to gain the confidence to do so. Eventually, of course, he'd come to the conclusion that the grey areas were so vast that black or white barely existed.

'If we're making the weapons that kill people, does that make us bad?' It had been bouncing around her mind for a long while.

'No, sweet-pea. What we do helps keep us safe. That's good' he reassured, wishing he wasn't elbow deep in a missile so he could have this conversation a little more comfortably. He realised then that's why she had asked in this moment. It was an uncomfortable question, not one she wanted to ask at dinner. 'Is this because you're worried about Unkaja?'

There was a slight quaver when she said 'No' and he looked up 'a little' she acquiesced.

'Unk is safe. I promise. He's got the best possible protective gear- because I made it for him, and he's got the best possible tactical mind to go with it' he took a breath and squeezed his hand into a tighter space, catching his finger on a sharp wire 'fuck' he hissed quietly, Astrid standing up immediately 'I'm okay, just scraped my knuckle'

'First Aid kit or an ambulance?' she moved closer, cautious, worried.

'I might need one of those Disney bandaids. Can you see if we've got any more of the Tarzan ones?' he gave her a little smirk 'I'm fine kiddo, don't panic. I'm almost done this bit'

She dashed to the wall mounted first aid kit, dragging a stool over to climb to it. A few minutes passed with the sound of her rifling through the boxes of bandaids- he had successfully managed to argue a few years ago that the brightly single coloured bandaids weren't the only WH & S compliant, if kids bandaids were also brightly coloured and contained one of the metal strips used to find a missing bandaid with x-ray. After he'd been in touch with Johnson & Johnson to add that feature to kids bandaids of course. Now all Stark Industries first aid kits globally contained the Blue or Pink plain bandaids, and the fun kids ones.
Someone had told him he was encouraging child labour. It was a strange reaction to what he saw as a good thing, but he hadn't dwelt on it. He still didn't.

'We only have Buzz, Dalmatians, Beast and Belle or Mulan' she called from her stool

'Mulan please. Do you think I'd be cool with a sword?'

She packed away the kit and climbed down, holding the bandaid carefully 'if you keep letting your hair grow you'll be able to put your hair up like Shang' she wrinkled her nose at him 'a cute little bun'

'mmmm, not sure it would be my best look' he nodded, soldering the last piece in place and slowly withdrawing his hands 'we could put your hair up in a Mulan bun tomorrow'

'cool' a little grin 'show me the boo-boo' the reversion to the childish term made his chest tighten. It was so easy to forget that she was biologically, only 6... almost 7. She had such a grown mind, for such a tiny little human. Well, not so tiny anymore. She would be his height before he knew it. He held out his hand, a small trickle of blood from the scratch just below his knuckle. 'Lucky I'm not a vampire, right?' she chomped her teeth and ripped open the wrapper, carefully placing the bandaid over the blood and wrapping it firmly around his finger before pressing a little kiss over it 'Better?'

'All but cured, thank you Doctor' he nodded, picking her up to stand on his chair and even their heights 'Sweet-pea. You don't have to worry about Unkaja, okay? He's not just your uncle, he's an aerospace engineer, he's a pilot, he's a genius at those things. He'd been in the Air Force for years, and he's GOOD. Actually, he's excellent. I'd trust him with you in a fighter jet in a war zone to bring you back safe. Do you want to call him when he wakes up?'

'You'd let me get in a fighter jet?' her eyes lit up. Little adrenaline junkie.

'Of course that's what you pick up on' rolling his eyes at his daughter he squeezed her 'no I wouldn't let you, but I would trust Unk to keep you safe if I had no choice in that theoretical situation'

'When Unkaja gets home...'

'I'll ask if he can take you for a flight, but don't push it' he chuckled 'you're just a baby, my sweet little baby'

'Do babies normally help with missile propulsion systems?' the corners of her mouth twitched, almost mastering the straight face her attitude required

'Smartass' another roll of his eyes 'Come on. I'm starving, we can talk about the morality of weapon production on the way to the cafeteria'

To his surprise, she shook her head 'this' gesturing to the inert missile 'and Stark weapons help keep Uncle James safe, right?'

'right' uncle James ugh. He wasn't ready for her to drop the sweet nickname, and not in the same conversation as shed been using it already. He wanted to squeeze her and beg her to slow down.

'Whatever it takes to keep our family safe' she looked at him with an expression so intense it took his breath away a little. He saw himself in the depths of her eyes and it worried him. A little copy of him was all well and good, but not if that included the bad things.

'Agreed, kiddo' he kissed her temple and held her hand while she jumped off the chair 'I could go for a burrito, what do you think?'