"We shouldn't be surprised by it, is all I'm saying," Hank said in response to the reporter. "Everyone is well aware that the most recent generation of Starks is even worse than the one mine had. All Starks are good for is death. Creating it, causing it, Tony Stark is called the Merchant of Death, for crying out loud."

"And your opinion on his abduction?"

"Are we sure he's not just on another drunken bender? He's done those before, there was a feared disappearance in 1999, and again in 2002. I'm sure he'll be stumbling home soon enough."

Grey sneered as she watched the man try and drag her father's name through the mud. She wasn't sitting on the couch, like Pepper was. She was standing in front of the TV with her fists clenched and her jaw set.

"Jarvis, where was dad for those disappearances?" Grey asked, careful with her vocabulary while Barnes was in the room. He was lurking in a corner, his eyes constantly flickering to the wide window view of the ocean. He looked soft, wearing a flannel from Jim's wardrobe. It was a little tight in the shoulders and arms, but he didn't seem to mind.

"In 1999, you had pneumonia, Miss Stark. You required hospitalization for a week as they couldn't get your fever to break, and you needed fluids. In 2002, Sir moved the two of you to Malibu in the wake of you skipping a grade." Jarvis used the wall to show the various documents to support it. There was an itemized bill for her three-night stay in the peds ward of Mercy hospital in New York, a copy of the official diagnosis, and a copy of her chest x-ray. Then he brought up the receipt for the moving company that helped them get everything to the new house. There was a copy of her transcript, and a letter from the school affirming that she was skipping seventh grade. "Would you like me to print these documents?"

"Yes, please, Jay. I'm going to need it when I start yelling at people," Grey said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Pepper, you ready?"

"As long as you are," Pepper said, holding her phone. Grey glanced back at Pym's face on the TV and grinned. It wasn't a kind smile, or even a victory grin. Her expression held nothing but malice.

"Set it up."

Pepper made her phone call, Grey sipped her coffee, and one of the reporters stood up on TV.

"Stark Industries just set up a press conference, Stark to discuss disappearance. Dr Pym, what do you have to say about that?"

"It's what I just said, he went on another bender and asked the Air Force to help him in his lies to save face and keep his stocks up."

"We'll see about that," Grey promised, her eyes flashing as she stared at the screen. "Pepper, bring in a stylist. We want me to be dressed classy, old money, pearls, it needs to give Princess Diana."

"Needs to give, what?" Pepper asked, looking away from finances' expectations on Pym's conference.

"Sorry, my bad. People need to look at me and start to associate me with her. We need them to look at me and trust me, believe me, listen to me. Diana was the people's princess. Until dad's back, that's what I need to be." Grey turned to face Pepper, ignoring the way Pym kept going on about the reputation of the Stark men. She couldn't wait to use his own words against him.

"They call him doctor," Barnes said, stepping forward.

"He has a PhD in something, I'm sure," Grey said, turning her full attention to him, a kind smile immediately taking over the glare. She wanted to encourage him as much as possible, in hopes it would help him recover better.

"Doesn't Tony?"

"He does," Grey said, waiting for the point, until it smacked her in the face. "But everyone calls him Mister Stark, and that is no longer acceptable. Thank you, Sugar, you're the absolute best. Jarvis?"

"I'm gathering all documentation you might need to prove your paternity, including a DNA test. I've also compiled a list of Sir's accomplishments and credentials," Jarvis said, turning the lights blue in the room before he spoke. Barnes had been jumpy and had cautiously asked Grey if Jarvis could announce himself before he spoke. It was the first thing Barnes had asked for.

"I'm cashing in a favor with a stylist friend of mine," Pepper said, glancing up from her phone. "Jarvis, send me Grey's measurements so I can pass them along to her, she's agreed to handle hair, makeup and clothes. But only this time, she's reaching out to a friend who's been looking for a long-term position."

"I've got an idea of how I want to play it. I'm planning on playing up the anger of a grieving daughter," Grey said, glancing at Pepper for approval. "Don't need to fake anger."

"Do not say fuck on national television," Pepper said firmly.

"I will certainly try," Grey promised.

Line Break

Jayne sat in the second row, eagerly waiting for the Stark press conference to begin. It was her first time at a Stark event as a journalist, and she wanted to get everything perfect. She personally didn't like Tony Stark, disliked his flippancy in how he treated the world, but would ensure none of her personal bias showed through in her writing.

The conference was scheduled to begin at five in the evening, just in time for the evening news. It was already four fifty, and several live reporters were just starting to arrive. A woman Jayne recognized as Christine Everhart sat inspecting her nails as she waited, her recorder still in her hand. Press circles were aware of Tony's penchant for being late. It was so predictable; Jayne could see the MSNBC crew just starting to set up. It was an unspoken rule that you didn't arrive early to Tony Stark's press conferences.

After what seemed like an hour, but was truly only nine minutes, the door slammed open behind them, and a woman strode out in style. Jayne whispered into her recorder, describing the outfit and the woman, even though she doubted it would be important to her article. Her pink hair was out of place with her black fitted suit, giving her a casual elegance with a playful air. She walked up to the podium and smacked a stack of papers onto it. No one knew who she was – a new public relations rep, hired in the wake of disaster? She stood up straight, her shoulders unwavering, but it was her expression that intrigued Jayne. She was annoyed. Irritated, she looked around at the assembled press. Her irritation grew as MSNBC scrambled to set up fast enough.

"Alright, let's make this quick because I have a dozen other things I have to finish today, and this rates very low on my list of favorites. Yes, Doctor Tony Stark is missing. He was taken from Air Force custody by insurgents using Stark Industry weapons. The Air Force is working diligently to find him and will release their own statement on the progress of their search. If Hank Pym wants to accuse the Air Force of lying, they can keep our name out of it, that's his business not mine. As far as his hatred of the "Stark Men" as he called them, I can't wait to see what he makes of me." Jayne was holding her recorder out to capture the entire statement, while she carefully scribbled down her own questions and comments on a pad of paper. "My name is Margaret Maria Stark, and I'm the only child of Doctor Anthony Stark. Who has something to say about it?"

The reporters surged to their feet, shouting questions as loud as they could, holding out recorders and microphones. Jayne was sure she was the only one still seated as she glanced around. Margaret watched the chaos, leaning on the podium as she waited with her eyebrow raised. Jayne climbed to her feet, tucking her notepad under her arm, and raised her free hand. A sharp, shrill whistle rang out as Margaret pulled her fingers out of her mouth. She pointed at Jayne and nodded.

"Jayne Vittori, Reuters. You said he was taken by terrorists using Stark Industries weapons, could you elaborate on that?"

"Yes. Several service members attached to the Air Force convoy saw not only Stark rifles being used, but the three missiles launched were Stark weapons. An internal investigation has started and will soon discover just how our weapons were able to be used against America's soldiers."

There was a glint in Margaret's eyes, one that could've been grief, but might have been rage. Jayne thanked her for the answer and sat back down, watching everyone surge to their feet again, shouting questions about who she was, where she'd been. Jayne made a careful note of that, curious, but unwilling to ask. She had a few more questions about Tony's disappearance, so she raised her hand again. There was another whistle, another nod in her direction.

"Has there been a ransom, or any word on the status of Doctor Stark's health?" Jayne asked, barely hiding her surprise at being called on again. Margaret clearly had a way she wanted this conference to run. Jayne could respect it, and was willing to play her game, as long as she kept answering questions.

"No. Neither the Air Force, nor Stark Industries have received anything. We are hopeful that he is alive and working to escape while we search. At this time, we know nothing about who, where, or why. It has only been a week, so we are still hopeful we'll hear something soon."

Reporters started shouting again, resulting in an unimpressed look from Margaret. Jayne would've giggled if it had been a different situation. Tony's executive assistant, Virginia Potts, often had a similar expression. Jayne shrugged to herself and put her hand in the air again. There was another sharp whistle, followed by another nod in her direction. Several reporters caught on to the situation and settled in, raising their hands instead of standing and screaming.

"How is his kidnapping going to affect things at Stark Industries?" Jayne asked, holding out her recorder again. She tried to keep a professional look on her face, but she was sure her excitement was visible. Until Jayne caught the look in Margaret's eyes. Jayne might have been excited to get all her questions answered, but Margaret was devastated. Jayne stopped smiling, a small furrow in her brows appearing as she actually watched Margaret.

"When my grandfather died in 1991, his fatality clause stipulated that dad had to be twenty-one before he could take over the company as CEO," Margaret said, looking at Jayne rather than the cameras. Relief was clear in her eyes. Relief that someone was asking questions that mattered. Relief that she was being taken seriously. "My dad decided that I was competent enough to take over as long as I was eighteen. Therefore, at the end of May, the company will fall to me. Now, I have no experience here and have decided to jump right in, with the assistance of dad's executive assistant, Miss Potts. She will remain my right hand, as she was my dad's."

Another reporter that had caught on and put her hand in the air and waited. Margaret smiled and pointed at her. It seemed she had no patience for being shouted at, something Jayne appreciated. A glance around the room showed Miss Potts, tucked in a corner next to someone from the Air Force. Potts was on the phone, a smile in her eyes as she spoke with someone. She whispered something to the man, and he covered his mouth to laugh.

"Alice White, New York Times. Are you going to change the direction of the company?"

"There are no immediate plans to change the way Stark Industries is run. As I've said, I don't have the experience necessary to make those decisions. In the future, we might revaluate that." She pointed to someone behind Jayne. Jayne noticed that Margaret hadn't said they were never changing the direction of the company and made a note on her pad to keep an eye out for changes. They would be coming.

"Kyle West, People Magazine, can you tell us a bit about yourself?"

Her eyes flashed as she glared at the man.

"If you insist on asking, I can tell you that in 1999, I had pneumonia and had to be hospitalized, which resulted in my dad being "missing" in the media. And in 2002, I'd skipped a grade and transferred schools, so we moved, again causing him to go missing," Margaret said viciously, clearly referencing Hank Pym's press conference from that morning. Jayne snickered lightly, from her spot in the second row, she could see Kyle go pale. "I can tell you that my favorite color is pink, and my favorite food is hashbrowns. Anything other than that is personal, and unlike my father, I don't feel the need to share my personal life with you. My father is missing, and this conference is about him and our company. Are there any more questions to that effect?"

Jayne watched the conference continue, only startled out of her thoughts when a member of the security team slid into the seat next to her and handed her a note, inviting her to a meeting with Margaret afterwards. When she turned to reply, he was already gone. She wondered what the meeting was about.

Line Break

This was the best part of Samantha's job. She loved the surprised and offended look people got when she handed them the envelope that informed them, they were being sued by Stark Industries. The lawyers on retainer for the company were known internationally as the best team. Stark Industries had yet to lose a lawsuit.

Her favorite pair of heels clicked on the floor as she walked to the office at the end of the hall. Sam could see Pym, signing some papers, his head down. She opened the door, and knocked on his desk, startling the man.

"Hank Pym, you've been served," Sam said with a bright smile. "Have a nice day."

Sam made it out of his office, and halfway down the hall before Pym started shouting obscenities. She laughed quietly as she walked in the elevator, already dialing Pepper's phone number.

"I thought he was going to have a stroke," Sam said instead of a greeting. "He wasn't even watching the conference – how's she doing?"

"She's a terror. She said no personal questions, then kicked a woman out for insisting on asking a personal question," Pepper replied. "Sam, she's made them raise their hands."

Sam had been friends with Pepper long enough to understand that she was just waiting for an opportunity to laugh over this. She wouldn't – not until Tony was returned safely. It seemed like the only people who didn't know Tony loved Pepper was Tony and Pepper.

"How much training did you give her?" Sam asked, a grin on her face as she stepped out of the elevator.

"I gave her free reign as long as she didn't say fuck," Pepper replied with a laugh.

"That's brilliant. Oh, hang on, I see Hope." Sam tucked the phone in her pocket and pulled out another envelope. "Hope Van Dyne?"

"Yes, that's me," she said, turning around with a warm smile. Sam almost felt bad as she held out the envelope.

"You've been served." Hope's expression melted to confusion, then to rage, then to exhausted resignation as she saw the company logo on the page. "Have a nice day."

"Probably should've seen this coming. Hey, does this mean they found him?" Hope asked, gesturing to the papers. She was genuine in her concern. Unlike her father, or perhaps in spite of it, Hope didn't want to see Tony dead. "Please tell me he's okay."

"He's still missing. Proceedings are being put into place by his daughter," Sam said, nodding at Hope and walking off, pulling her phone back out.

"Daughter?" Hope shrieked after a minute. Sam couldn't help but laugh, raising one arm as a wave goodbye as she slipped through the front doors and joined the San Francisco foot traffic.

"You're flying back tomorrow, right?" Pepper asked. "You said you were visiting your sister."

"Yeah, Pep, I'm meeting her for dinner. And then next week – no, not next week, I have the new intern next week. Um, two weeks out, let's do a lunch, you me, and the kid."

"Perfect, we have things to discuss with you anyway," Pepper said, a teasing tone in her voice. "There's a new position opening soon we'd like to offer you."

"Deets?"

"Nope, not until lunch. Shit, Stane's calling. I'll call you tomorrow."

"That man, ugh. My car's here, see you soon!" Sam ended the call and smiled, rolling her eyes. Stark Industries legal department had been promising to promote Sam to their Legal Director, a position she'd wanted for years. She didn't think that's what this was – Pepper would've told her that directly.

Line Break

"Miss Stark, Jayne Vittori," Happy said, opening the door to Tony's office, letting the reporter in. Grey was sitting at the desk, squinting at a piece of paper, while Pepper whispered in her ear. Her jacket from the conference was hanging over the back of her chair, and her red tie had been loosened.

"Thanks, Happy, Jayne, come in, take a seat, give us just a moment," Pepper said, straightening. "Grey, sign here, and initial there."

Jayne sat and waited. Grey, as Pepper had called her, scratched out a signature and handed the pages over to Happy, who had stepped up and tucked them under his arm.

"Okay, now that that's done, hi, I'm Grey, and we'd like to poach you from Reuters."

"Oh!" Jayne said in surprise. She almost blurted out why but swallowed that thought. She didn't want to seem unsure, or scared, or unwilling, or anything that would prevent her from getting the job. However, she couldn't quite stop her question of, "me?"

"My dad did not raise me in the spotlight. He was raised in the spotlight, and he hated it. The pressure, the never-ending stares? He didn't want that for me, so he kept me hidden as best he could. Therefore, I've got no real idea what I'm doing when I hold a press conference. I get distracted, and get off topic," Grey said, leaning back in her seat. Pepper was still leaning over the desk, working sideways on the computer. "You have a really good track record with Reuter's. Wonderful questions, easy follow ups, you stick to the materials announced, and steer away from personal such-and-such, unless the nature of the interview is personal."

"You want me to be a Stark Industries PR rep?"

"Gods, no. I want you to be my PR rep. Personally, not just for Stark Industries, but for anything I might decide to get involved with." Jayne felt her mouth fall open and snapped it shut with an audible click. "You'd be working for me directly, and would also, hopefully manage social media for me, Twitter, Instagram, whatever else pops up over the next few years."

"You're planning on stepping out fully, then?" Jayne asked. She wondered what exactly Instagram was, and if it was a Stark Industries platform. "Coming out as heiress of Stark Industries?"

"Well, this was never the plan," Grey said. At the computer, Pepper snorted at the understatement. Jayne saw something flash in her eyes, but it was gone before she could puzzle it out. "I was going to finish school; I was going to travel some. I'd been looking at joining the peace corps. And then some stupid terrorist assholes decided to kidnap my dad and possibly kill him, so I'm stuck here doing-"

Grey cut herself off with a hand pressed to her chest as she tried to calm down. Pepper immediately turned her attention to her, placing her hands on her shoulders and keeping eye contact until she calmed down. Jayne worried.

"I'm sorry," Grey gasped out, still rubbing at her chest like it hurt.

"Never apologize for being human," Jayne said softly, sitting forward in her seat. "Anyone else would be in shambles right now."

"In addition to the professional piece on Stark Industries, we'd like you to do a personal piece on Grey. Really introduce her to the public, get some support behind her," Pepper said. She left her hand on Grey's shoulder but turned to face Jayne. "You've got permission to publish both through Reuter's, or through any publisher that's reputable."

"I'd like to give the pieces to Reuter's, to soften the blow of me getting poached," Jayne said. The door to the office opened behind her, and the man that handed her the note walked in with a stack of papers.

"Thanks Sugar. You doin' okay?" Grey asked, looking up at him with a soft look. He just nodded and handed over the papers. He left the room again, glancing back at Grey once. "This is the employment contract we drew up. Now here's where things get difficult. Here's the employment contract with Stark Industries, there's an offer letter, there's the benefits package and the standard NDAs that we require."

Jayne accepted the papers and pulled a pen out of her pocket. She'd read it before she signed, of course, but was eager to start.

"Now, before you sign, here's the employment contract with the Avengers Initiative," Pepper said, handing over a new stack of papers. Jayne accepted them, slightly confused. "And whether or not you sign that one, you will be signing these NDAs. We aren't ready to announce the initiative to the wider world just yet."

"And just what is this initiative?" Jayne asked. Her reporter brain was envisioning some horrible scandal that would tank stocks and ruin the economy.

"It's what we're going to need in order to save the world from the 2012 and 2018 alien invasions," Grey said blandly, as if alien invasions happened often. Jayne got so fixated on the potential for aliens that it took her a moment to realize she'd said future.

"And that's based on what? Because presently speaking, everyone believes aliens don't exist."

"I would give my left leg to go back to believing aliens didn't exist," Grey sighed, giggling at a joke Jayne didn't understand. "But, yeah. And when Dad gets home, we've got some plans to help, but he's still missing, and I know about aliens, but I just can't see where he is!"

Jayne tried not to frown as she puzzled out what Grey wasn't telling her. She said when, as opposed to if Tony Stark was returning home, as if it was a sure thing. She spoke of aliens as if she was ordering a drink at a bar.

"If I sign these agreements, you'll tell me everything that's going on?" Jayne asked, tapping the documents in her lap. "Everything?"

"Everything I can," Grey offered. Jayne's eyes turned to stone.

"You will tell me everything that you can because that is the only way I will be effective as your PR Rep. You will start walking everything past me. Social media, public appearances, dates, relationships, manicures." Jayne demanded; her voice sharp. "You will tell me about the aliens. You will tell me how you know Doctor Stark is coming home when the rest of the world is shaking in fear that he's dead. I need to know everything, that way, in the future, if I'm supposed to cover for something, or bury something, I know what to say."

"Told you she was a good choice," Grey said, a grin on her face as she glanced up at Pepper. "Give her the rest of the NDAs."

Jayne balked at the sight of yet another privacy agreement, this one held together by a two-inch binder clip, with plenty of colorful tabs showing her where she'd sign. It took fifteen minutes to sign the NDA that would allow her to learn about her job.

"Alright, bring her in," Pepper said, crossing the room to hand the NDA to the men standing outside the office. The shorter of the two nodded and left, taking the NDA with him. "Room is secure."

"Thanks Pep. Alright, Jayne, here's what you need to know."

Line Break

Obadiah Stane was furious. What started out as a casual Friday, had turned first amusing, then horrifying. He'd sat in his office in the morning and watched the announcement that Tony was missing. Then he watched Pym go feral about the Starks. A few of his friends and associates in the Board of Directors came together to talk about the next steps of the Jericho Missile System, carefully avoiding the topic of Tony's disappearance.

And then he received the news alert. Well, everyone in his office received the press alert. Stark to Discuss Disappearance. Stane felt a pit in his stomach as he stared at the words on his computer. How could he be back? How could Obadiah not have known he'd been rescued?

Obadiah was alone when the evening news turned on and showed him the podium at Stark Industries, empty, waiting for someone to stand up and speak. Fifteen minutes passed, and Obadiah waited, his hands shaking. Another fifteen, and he poured himself a whiskey. A woman stalked into the room, taking long strides and looking straight ahead. She slammed her paperwork on the podium, and Stane breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a girl from PR, holding a conference on behalf of the Potts woman. Until it wasn't.

"My name is Margaret Maria Stark, the only child of Doctor Anthony Stark. Who has something to say about it?" The empty whiskey glass shattered against the floor. Such was his shock that Obadiah had dialed Tony's number before remembering he was gone. He pulled Potts up from his contacts and held the phone out.

"I was wondering how far she'd get through the conference before you called. What do you want, Obadiah?" Pepper asked, her tone full of professional hostility.

"I want to know about the pink haired freak you've got pretending to be Tony's daughter," Stane ground out.

"That pink haired freak, as you call her, is the best kept Stark Family Secret that you were never cleared to know about," Pepper said sharply. "She has been Tony's daughter since she was born in 1991. As Tony's Godfather, you might want to ask what you did to lose his trust. As Tony's PA, I've known about her for the past seven years."

"Tony's never had a daughter, I'd have known about it," Stane swore. Pepper couldn't help but laugh.

"If that's what you need to believe, fine, yes, this is all a big hoax, a conspiracy, just for you, Obadiah. Now if you'll excuse me, I actually take my job seriously. Good-bye Obadiah," Pepper said ending the call. He cursed, even throwing his phone across the room.

Line Break

Barnes had no idea what was happening around him as everyone prepared for the press conference. He'd been ordered to follow the girl and do what she needed, so he did. He followed her out of the bank, into her car, onto her jet, and into her house.

She told him he was free, that she wasn't Hydra. She gave him a room, a promise to order him some clothes, and a tablet, telling him to start choosing things he'd like to have around the house. His choice. She asked him things, sometimes. Asked if he wanted to go for a walk on the beach after dark. Asked if he wanted to help run security for her press conference. He said yes. At first because of orders, then because of his first dinner.

He stood in the corner, watched the door to his room, and waited. Eventually there was a knock at the door. He waited for it to open, but it stayed closed. Another knock without entry.

"You have to give me permission to come in, or I'm not opening the door. You get to keep your own privacy," a woman said. It wasn't her. It was the other one, the one with red hair and kind eyes.

"Come in?" Barnes finally said. The door opened, and she stepped one step into the room. She smiled at him, genuine kindness.

"We're doing pizza for dinner tonight - Jim's choice. Are there any toppings you'd like, or any you'd like to avoid?" It was a test. He was going to say the wrong thing, and he'd be thrown in the chair again. Or a cell. Or he'd be frozen again. "Grey eats only cheese, so that's already an option. I like mine with peppers, and Happy always goes for meat lovers. We know you've got an enhanced metabolism, so we're going to order you two for yourself. Pepperoni is good. Sausage is Tony's preferred."

"Sausage."

"Sausage it will be. There's also going to be a large salad, and I'm sure Happy will arrange something for dessert. I'll have Jarvis flash the lights in here when the food's ready, would that be okay?" He just nodded.

When the lights flashed, Barnes didn't move. He didn't trust the people, he didn't trust the lights, he didn't trust that the food would be there.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Barnes said when it was apparent that they weren't going to open the door. The door opened. It was her.

"Jarvis said he flashed the lights for you, did you change your mind about the pizza, Sugar?" She looked at his face and sighed. "Oh, my sweet love. Why don't you come out and join us? You can question us all you want, and we will swear to tell the truth."

"Why?"

"Why would we tell the truth, or why should you join us? We'll tell you the truth because that's the right thing to do. You should join us because socialization is good for your physical, mental, and emotional health." She watched him, not warily, like she was afraid, not critically, like she was debating the best way to use him. Just watching.

"Swear." He worried about the demand in his voice, but he didn't trust anything.

"I, Margaret Maria Stark, do solemnly swear on my mother's grave that my family will tell you the truth during tonight's dinner," she said, one hand up like she was swearing into office. Barnes couldn't help but smile. "C'mon, it's pizza, surely they had pizza in the forties."

"They did." Barnes hesitated, still in the corner. He didn't really understand how he knew that. He took a step forward. "Has it changed?"

"Shit if I know, love, I was born in the nineties. I know it's good though." She held a hand out to him, waiting for him to take it. He walked forward, waiting for her to react with fear. She didn't. He took her hand, gently. She twisted their fingers together and started dragging him out of the room and down the hall.

"Hey! You made it!" the red haired woman said, raising her wine glass in greeting. He nodded at her, surprised they were so excited to see him. The black man had his back to him, but he turned around and smiled, nodding at him. "Knew Grey'd get you out of hiding."

"Thank you," Barnes said softly, sitting with his back to a wall. A box of sausage pizza was passed over as Grey sat right next to him, two slices of plain cheese sitting on her plate, with a glass of wine in her hand. "I'm sorry, I don't..."

"Harold Hogan," the man with the pizza said, holding out his hand. "Everyone calls me Happy."

Barnes shook his hand; grateful he was understood. The black man reached over next.

"Jim Rhodes."

"Virginia Potts, call me Pepper. It's good to see you out of that room. You're a guest, you're not in storage," she said, pretending to scold, but her wide smile and wink took away any accidental hurt. "Would you like some wine?"

"It's a really good vintage," Grey said, gesturing with her own. "I pulled an Australian Shiraz out of the wine cellar. From the eighties. Older than me, still younger than you."

"Everything is younger than me," Barnes said softly as he finally picked up a piece of pizza. Not sure how else to do it, he added the salad dressing to his plate like Grey had. He dipped his pizza in it, wondering to himself if it was a new modern thing. The pizza was good. It was leagues better than it had been in the past. The dressing was... strange, but not bad.

"See, Pepper, I told you ranch goes on pizza, even he knows it!"

"Pretty sure he's just copying you. You put ranch on everything," Happy said dryly. "And as the only one here to grow up in the midwest, I'm the leading authority on it. Ranch does belong on pizza. Pepper's just weird."

"Here, try a sip," Grey said, holding out her wine glass. Pepper and Happy bickered like siblings at the other end, while Jim shook his head and ate his salad. Barnes carefully took the glass, a little nervous it would break in his hands, and took a sip. "Kinda fruity, right? Hint of pepper at the back? Shiraz actually originated in Europe and was known as Sirah, but when they started planting it in Australia, it took on such a different flavor profile that they started calling it Shiraz."

"Smooth," Barnes said for lack of anything else.

"Do you want a glass?"

"I might break it," Barnes replied, still speaking softly. If Grey hadn't been sitting so close, she wouldn't have heard him.

"Ah, but that my dear is limited thinking. If you might break the wine glass, drink it out of a different cup. It's not going to affect the taste." He looked at her in open surprise. "I used to drink wine out of coffee mugs because they were dishwasher safe. Crystal has to be hand washed, and I'm very lazy."

"We had a dishwasher," Barnes said, though it came out more like a question. He could almost picture a young woman with dark brown, curly hair, laughing as she waved a plate around.

"Here," Grey said, pouring wine in an empty water cup. She placed it next to his plate, and passed the bottle over to Pepper, who was still bickering with Happy. "Until you trust yourself."

She tapped the cup with her glass and took a sip, her smile still clear in her eyes.

Line Break

Grey was starting to hate waking up at four in the morning. Just once she wanted to sleep in until a rational hour, like six. She missed the weekends as a teenager when she would sleep until one or two in the afternoon. She missed the weekends before she got used to Dr Paul's schedule when she would sleep until noon.

Grey shuffled to her bathroom and forced herself to start her morning routine. A weather widget appeared on her mirror, as Jarvis spoke quietly about the various headlines that had come out in the wake of yesterday's press conferences, and several new items on her calendar.

Stepping into the shower woke her up enough to allow functional thoughts again, and Grey tilted her head up to address Jarvis.

"Jarvis, did Stane include an itinerary for the meeting on Monday? Who else is coming?"

"There was no itinerary for the meeting, however there was a list of attendees; the board of directors, as well as several C-level members. Many have already indicated that they will be attending."

"Hmm. Ensure we provide a meal for the meeting, and everyone's coffee order. Set up a way to record it through either mine or Pepper's phone, I'm sure we'll find something in there we can sue him for," Grey said, reaching for her shampoo.

"Miss Stark," Jarvis said, pulling Grey's attention away from her shampoo.

"Yes, my dear?" Grey asked, rinsing the suds out of her hair. "Is Barnes awake?"

"Not yet, Miss Stark. There is a group of people at the door for you."

"People? Dad?" Grey stepped out of the water and moved to leave the shower; conditioner be-damned.

"The Legacies have arrived," Jarvis said. "They are asking for you."

Grey stepped back under the water. She said, "have them wait for me, it's their own damn fault for showing up at four in the fucking morning."

She wasn't going to adjust her schedule just because of some unannounced visitors. She had just started a multi-step skincare routine and was determined to try and stick with it. She got dressed, leaving her hair wet, and headed to deal with her visitors.

"What is it you want from me?" Grey asked the herd of people in her front yard. She had slipped out a window to circle around - unwilling to open the door to people she didn't know. Sure, she'd read their profiles Jarvis had gifted her, she knew they were the best of the best. But that didn't change the fact that half a dozen strangers were standing outside her front door, with weapons, at four thirty in the morning. "And also, what the fuck are you doing here at four thirty in the gods damned morning?"

"When we saw the press conference, we had to see for ourselves," Antoine Triplett said, leaning against the wall. Sharon stood next to him, her eyes flicking every which way. Jim Morita the Second was there. They were the only three that Grey immediately recognized. "Tony with a kid, we almost couldn't believe it."

"Except for the fact that she's exactly like her father," a brunette said, a hint of a Kentucky accent in her voice. She had blue eyes, dark as the night sky.

"How old are you?" Sharon demanded.

"I'll be nineteen at the end of the month. Dad and I share a birthday."

"The last time we saw Tony was his birthday in '91," the blond man said, leaning against a woman who could only be his twin sister. "It makes sense."

"No, it doesn't," the other twin said shortly. "He was at his birthday party, on his birthday, he'd have been at the hospital."

"If he'd known, sure," Grey said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, you people. Dad slept with my mom, got her pregnant. She didn't bother to tell him. Or maybe she didn't even know. Either way, mom died during labor. She'd already listed dad as my father, so after she passed, the hospital in Boston called dad. Granted, he did demand a paternity test, but eventually, he named me and brought me home."

"Tony named you?" The brunette asked in surprise. "That makes sense, he always idolized Aunt Peggy. Do you know who we are?"

"The Legacies of the Howling Commandos," Grey said, slightly awestruck. It was really cool seeing them, even if it was really really weird. "Antoine Triplett, Trip, Agent of SHIELD, grandson of Gabe Jones. Sharon Carter, Agent of SHIELD, great niece of Peggy Carter. Jim Morita, Christ, you look just like your father. You're Katherine Dugan, granddaughter of Dum-Dum Dugan, aren't you working for the CIA right now? And you two are Brian and Lizzie Montgomery-Falsworth. Director of MI5, and Unit Chief at MI6, respectively."

"Good to know Tony didn't completely forget us," Sharon joked, even though it fell slightly flat. Behind them, the front door opened, casting light across the yard.

"Grey?"

The legacies, who had their backs to the house, turned in surprise. Three drew weapons when they saw who was standing in the threshold. Grey walked through the group, shouldering her way past everyone, and shoving guns down as she stepped in front of Barnes.

"What the fuck?" Katherine breathed, staring at the Winter Soldier. She could recognize him, not by his face, but by the metal arm. She pulled her gun back up, but Grey glared at her, stepping closer. "Grey, get away from him, he's dangerous."

"You think Bucky is gonna hurt me?" Grey giggled, tilting her head back to look at Barnes. He looked down at her with a soft smile, barely crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Bucky?" Sharon asked, her mind whirling.

"Barnes, of the 107th," Barnes said, looking at her. She had Peggy's eyes.

"Steve Rogers' best friend is the Winter Soldier?" Brian asked faintly, slowly recognizing the man in front of him. Lizzie lowered her weapon. Sharon holstered hers, but Katherine kept hers up, just in case. "Sure, why not."

Grey turned around to face him, leaving her back open to the legacies. He looked down at her, and everyone could see his face soften, just slightly.

"You sleep okay, sugar?" Grey asked quietly. He just gave a short nod. "Are you okay to join us, or do you want time?"

"I'll stay. For you," Barnes said just as softly. "I'll start coffee."

"Well then, you idiots staying? Mind you, you upset him in anyway, and I'll throw you off the cliffs." Grey glanced over her shoulder at the legacies, then headed inside, leaving the door open.

"Well, I'm not leaving without answers," Sharon said, shrugging her shoulders and stepping into the house.

"I could use some coffee," Morita said, following Trip, who was following Sharon. "We're finishing up Prom prep this weekend when I get back. Besides, you freaks kidnapped me from my bed. You know Rosalind is going to kill you for that, right?"

"Rosalind has wanted an excuse to hit me for ages," Brian said, rolling his eyes as he and Lizzie finally headed into the house. "Get your ass in gear, Dugan. There's intel to be shared."

Katherine huffed as she holstered her weapon and followed everyone else inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She could hear laughter coming from the kitchen, already. She knew it was going to be a long morning.

Pepper was always punctual. Jarvis woke the house up at seven, and she arrived at one minute past. She always walked to the kitchen, started coffee of some sort, and started her day. Whether it was wrangling Tony, or taking over the timeline with his daughter, she spent most mornings at the house. Except this time, the house wasn't mostly empty.

"I'm not surprised," a woman said casually. "I remember Tony's tenth birthday party. One of the people Howard invited sold the invitation to the highest bidder and some assassin bought it, tried to kill Maria. He shuttered everything. It was catastrophic to the company."

"That's the point though, he nearly ruined the company for something that was completely unrelated," someone else said. Pepper didn't recognize any of these voices and rushed to the living room, where Grey was holding court with the Legacies. Pepper didn't know them personally, but Tony had briefed her on them a few years ago, giving her photos and a general rundown, just in case they ever came to her for something. It hadn't been likely, but now she was glad for his foresight.

"He nearly ruined the company to put his family first. People might not have seen it, but Pops always put his family first. Morning Pepper!" Grey chirped. "Turns out, Stane isn't the only one that saw the press conference."

"I can see that. What time did they get here? I didn't leave until ten." Pepper pulled the ottoman over so she could sit on it.

"Jarvis mentioned them at four while I was in the shower," Grey said. "Must have flown out the minute it ended."

Something showed on Grey's face, something that made Pepper worried, but she couldn't quite figure out what. Grey had realized something, something Pepper hoped she would share.

"They're not the only one, Stane put in a meeting for Monday morning the second the conference ended."

"Four more weeks and I can fire him," Grey said, glancing up at the ceiling. "God willing."

"You want to fire Obadiah?" Katherine asked, surprised. "Tony adores him."

"And he sealed the autopsy report of nana and pops. He sealed it from us. I had to hack into a federal database to get the report. They didn't die in a car accident," Grey raged, surging to her feet. Pepper held back her surprise at the performance. Grey flung her arm back to point at Barnes. "He murdered them on someone's orders. And Obadiah fucking Stane covered it up! So yes, I want to fire the son of a bitch. I'd like to fire him out of a goddamned cannon!"

"But you don't hate him?" Katherine spoke again, glancing up at Barnes, something dark in her voice and eyes. "He's the killer and he lives here."

"This man was a tortured and brainwashed prisoner of war for the past seventy years," Grey snarled, stepping in front of Barnes protectively. She puffed up like a cat, glaring at Katherine as if ready to strike. "It might have been his hands, but it sure as fuck wasn't his mind and I will not tolerate anyone who dares blame him. Get over yourself or get the fuck out of my house, Dugan. There are bigger things at play than you're capable of seeing."

"Grey, they're just trying to help," Pepper defended, reaching up to put her hand on Grey's arm. "Let them help."

"Fine. Here's what we know," Grey said, after staring at Pepper for a long minute. Grey sat back in her chair. Pepper left for the kitchen, intent on starting some fresh coffee, then getting a jump on the next work week. Grey could handle Tony's superspy family on her own, and likely even in her sleep. It was the meeting with Obadiah, that Pepper was worried about.

Line Break

"My birth certificate, my custody paperwork, three DNA tests from three different labs, fifteen different pictures of me as a child with my dad, and the fatality clause last being updated three years ago when I turned sixteen," Grey said, thumping the binder down on the conference room table. "Is there anything else you think you're entitled to?"

Behind Grey, Pepper and Jim fought to keep straight faces as Grey destroyed any argument Stane or the Board of Directors brought up. She stood straight, her shoulders back and murder in her eyes as she soundly backed them into a corner. She'd been arguing with them for the past thirty minutes, and Grey hadn't wavered once. She didn't shift her weight; she didn't lean or slouch. Pepper was impressed.

"Now young lady, that kind of attitude isn't necessary, we just have concerns about your age," a board member said in a tone so condescending even Pepper felt like shuddering. "You're not even nineteen, haven't graduated college, and have no real-world experience. Obadiah Stane has helped your father run this company for years. You should consider allowing him to keep doing what he does best."

"Pepper will help me run the company until my father is found, or I graduate from college," Grey said, leaning over to rest her hand on the table. She lowered her shoulders until she was looking Stane right in the eye. The way she moved her body made Pepper slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't provocative, like she was trying to flirt her way to success, it was unnerving. Like something out of a horror movie. "I have no need for a man - especially one that never noticed that our weapons were available on the black market. You has been the COO of this company since 1989, when Pops promoted you. That's twenty-one years, and never once did you notice that our weapons are in the hands of America's enemies? You can stay on as COO, but I've already put Uncle Jim in charge of the investigation. He has contacts in law enforcement and within the military."

"Is an external investigation really necessary for this?" Stane asked, trying a new tactic. Grey couldn't help but sneer at his oily voice. "We could surely handle this inhouse."

"We have government contracts, you supercilious fool, we should consider ourselves lucky that the ATF and FBI aren't here kicking in our doors, because the Patriot Act is valid here," Grey said coldly. She straightened up, managing to look down her nose at the men in the room. Only one of them had the decency to look abashed. "I will not have my father's legacy destroyed because someone in our company fucked up. This investigation will discover if it was intentional, or an accident. It will tell us if it's a one off, or if this has happened before. Regardless, our new buzzword is accountability. Our weapons were used by bad people - we are at fault."

"We cannot be held liable for any damage our weapons do," Stane said. Grey snorted, then laughed as if it was the funniest thing she'd heard. She had a bright laugh, one that was out of place with the derision in her eyes.

"We can't be held liable for the damages our legally sold weapons do. The ones that ended up in the hands of terrorists? Of foreign governments? Enemies of the state? The types of people that have no legal recourse for owning our weapons - that is something we're liable for. The damages against my father and his Air Force escort - that blood is on the hands of whomever sold those weapons to the insurgents. I didn't do it. I didn't sell them." Grey's eyes locked onto Stane. "Did you?"

"I think we're done here, gentlemen," Pepper said before Stane could open his mouth. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow, and ill-disguised hate in his eyes. "If there are any questions, you can direct them to me. I'll ensure they get the attention they deserve."

Pepper didn't bother to mention that she didn't think anything they would say would be worth her time. Jim gestured to the door, and slowly, then all at once, the board left the room, leaving the trio to themselves.

"If one more person calls me young lady, I'm asking Barnes to shoot them," Grey said firmly before shuddering. "And the next person to look at me like that? I'll fuckin' shoot them myself."

"Has he always been that...?"

"Oily?" Grey offered, looking at Jim. "Yes. That's the bastard that told Hydra Pops had the serum in his trunk. He's the one that sold Pops and Nana out to Hydra. Barnes might have physically done it, but Stane's the reason they're dead."

"I thought we weren't going after him yet?" Pepper asked, finally taking a seat. "We were going to wait until Tony got back and canceled the weapons program."

"We were," Grey said, flopping in a seat herself. "But since we're having to act as if he's not coming back, why wait?"

"Because the proof we have is flimsy," Jim said. "We have one recording of the attack, which does show a Stark automatic rifle being used against our troops, but there's no evidence it wasn't a one-off."

"You are correct," Grey said, kicking her legs so the chair turned around. "However, you've forgotten, I am a grieving daughter, of course I'm going to kick up a fuss about anything possibly related to my father's disappearance. That excuse will fly for three months or so."

"And by then he'll be back home so it won't matter," Pepper said, understanding the change. Grief often made people do strange things, it wouldn't raise any eyebrows that Grey was pushing for an investigation into her dad's kidnapping.

"No, by the time he gets home, we'll be ready to make you CEO," Grey said, pointing at Pepper with a smile on her face.

"Me?"

"It was Dad's idea," Grey said. "Besides, he's a genius. Let's let him stay as head of R , you take the company as a whole, and I'll figure out the Avengers Initiative."

"I thought you were taking over Marvel Comics," Jim said, checking his phone and nudging Pepper. The reporters had finally cleared the property, they were good to go home. Happy was waiting.

"I'm going to buy Marvel Comics. I'm going to give them the Captain America origin story and have them write about Aunt Peggy and the Commandos. I have no plans on running Marvel. I doubt I'll have the time, let alone the mental stability." She missed the loaded look Jim and Pepper shared over her head. "Hey, where'd we get these Danish? These might be the best thing I've ever tasted, and Doctor Paul got me addicted to Servatti, so that's saying a lot."