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Humans

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Downtown Manhattan.

Meanwhile…

The temperature lingered in the mid-50s Fahrenheit, a cool breeze tugging at the edges of his jacket as he strolled through the lively streets, hand in hand with his daughter. Her bright pink wig trailed behind her with every skip, a makeshift Black Widow belt cinched proudly around her waist. Her take on the famous Avenger was part spy, part princess — black leggings and a long-sleeved top, layered beneath a pink winter jacket and matching boots.

Halloween had wrapped the city in vibrant chaos — grinning pumpkins, cobweb-draped windows, eerie silhouettes flickering beneath the streetlamps. Children in costumes darted past candy vendors, their laughter mingling with the distant honk of a car.

"Look, Daddy!" she squealed, pointing ahead. "Avengers Tower!"

"Yep," he chuckled, giving her hand a gentle tug. "Almost home, Black Widow."

Beaming up at him, her eyes sparkled with delight. "I'm Pink Widow!"

He laughed, watching her twirl her silver wand, light and carefree. Seven already — growing up faster than he was ready for. Moments like this, her giggles and boundless imagination, were what he cherished most. After three years locked away for playing modern-day Robin Hood against his unethical employer, he wasn't about to waste another second.

"Well, I think Pink Widow deserves a treat for saving the world," he smiled. "Caramel apple or ice cream?"

Her little brows furrowed as she scrunched up her face in thoughtful deliberation. "Hmm… caramel apple! It's more Halloween-y."

"Good choice, peanuts."

As they neared their destination, his gaze lingered on the futuristic skyscraper, his expression unreadable. There were plenty of activities for kids inside — the perfect excuse to step through those doors.

And for once, he felt lucky.

Avengers Tower.

The sprawling complex, powered by Stark's revolutionary Arc Reactor, was crowned by the triangular Main Tower. At its peak, it served as both the billionaire's New York residence and the Avengers HQ, with Stark Industries occupying the central floors. Below, the lower levels housed a mix of advanced tech companies and non-tech firms aligned with Tony's vision. At the base, a rectangular structure welcomed the public with a vibrant Community Hub, featuring interactive exhibits of SI's groundbreaking technology and the Avengers Mall — where the festive spirit wrapped around every corner.

Since its inception, the Avengers Halloween Festival has become a beloved tradition in the city, once again transforming the central plaza into a whimsical haven — free admission, sponsored by the Avengers Foundation, but open to donations. Originally created by Stark to support victims of the Battle of New York, and backed by all Avengers, the charity now was dedicated to aiding those affected whenever superheroes had to defend the world from extraordinary threats.

Candy corn garlands looped around storefronts, while employees dressed as superheroes guided activities and handed out neatly wrapped treats. The little girl eagerly accepted a cookie shaped like Mjolnir from a Thor before they stopped at the craft stations, where a Hulk encouraged her to add her handprint to a giant mural of superheroes. Proudly, she signed it: Pink Widow.

Right afterwards, she tugged her father toward the face-painting station, where a cheerful Hawkeye carefully painted a black widow spider dusted with pink glitter on her cheek. Her excitement only grew when, shortly after, she received a trophy for originality in the Superhero Costume Contest. The presenter, dressed as Black Widow, hugged her for the photos, making the moment even more special.

Later, at the Superhero Training Camp, she joined a group of kids led by a Captain America through an obstacle course, tiny shields raised as they ran between padded barriers. In the simulators, she was thrilled to fly alongside Iron Man and Falcon.

When they finally sat down to eat lunch in the center of the square, performers also dressed as Avengers reenacted missions with spooky twists, their playful battles drawing laughter from the crowd.

For many families, it was a rare opportunity to let their kids feel closer to their heroes.

For the father, it meant so much more.

While his daughter was spellbound by the spectacle of it all, he studied the security setup — strategically placed cameras, plainclothes guards blending into the crowd. Tight. Just as he expected.

Tourists and fans strolled through upscale shops, and the little girl clung to his sleeve as they approached the large Avengers Store. Its windows glowed with displays of themed merchandise: Black Widows dressed as vampires, Captain Americas as werewolves, and Frankenstein Hulks. There were even full sets of Avengers as zombies and ghosts.

"Can we go in, Daddy? Please?" she called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Before he could answer, pink strands flew as she darted inside. Spotting a doll, she gave an excited squeal. "Daddy! Look! Natasha! My favorite!"

He chuckled, watching as she plopped down in the middle of the store. With intense focus, she arranged the dolls into a circle and began chatting with them as if they were lifelong friends.

After a while, she picked up a Captain America figurine, her voice earnest and sweet. "This is my dad, Cap. He's a superhero too. He's…" She looked up at him, her expression glowing with pride. "The Next Avenger!"

After hours of wandering, scouring every store, Sam still hadn't found anything that could replace the magic show he'd forgotten to book. Entertainers were everywhere, but not just anyone could be brought upstairs to perform for the secret babies.

The moment JARVIS called, he knew it was over.

There was a delay, but I'll be there soon, he quickly texted back, shoulders sagging as defeat settled deep in his chest.

With two bags stuffed with Avengers puppets hung from his hands, he stopped in his tracks when he caught an all-too-familiar phrase. The urgency tugged at him, but the coincidence was too strange to ignore. Curiosity won out.

Turning toward the voice, he spotted a little girl with a bright pink wig surrounded by dolls. Beside her stood a modest man of average height, casually dressed, his brown hair slightly tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed.

With a practiced smile, Wilson approached. "Hey there. Did I hear that right? The Next Avenger?" His white-and-gold costume barely stood out among the crowd of shoppers in full Halloween gear.

The girl's eyes lit up. She bounced on her toes, grinning as wide as the jack-o'-lanterns in the display window. "Yes! My daddy is The Next Avenger! He's a hero too!"

"Really?" Sam raised an eyebrow, glancing at the man. "What kind of hero?"

"He saved the world from the bad yellow bug!"

"Oh, that's really impressive. And how'd he do that?"

"He can get super small! Really, really tiny!" She pinched her fingers together, holding them millimeters apart for emphasis. "And then he can make things huge too! It's like magic!" Her arms shot out wide.

"So, you do magic tricks?"

The man — obviously her father — cleared his throat awkwardly. "She's… uh… y'know… kids…"

Wilson held out his hand, an easy grin on his face. "Sam Wilson."

"Scott Lang."

Sam's eyes widened. "Lang. The Next Avenger," he echoed.

"I'm Cassie!" the girl piped up, practically glowing.

"Nice to meet you, Cassie. And your mother is Marg—?"

"Maggie!" she said proudly.

Wilson's brain clicked. Maggie Lang. SHIELD Agent Margot Lang. This was her husband.

The magician SHIELD had already cleared. The one Sam was supposed to book. Two weeks ago.

And here he was.

Sweet mercy.

His excitement surged. He turned to Scott, completely unaware he was talking to the wrong guy. "You busy? I know it's sudden, but we're throwing a party and we need you. I'll pay you double. No, triple. Just to work your magic — for babies!"

Lang blinked, flustered. "Uh… no, I'm not — I mean, I'm here with my daughter—"

Before he could finish, Cassie jumped in with a burst of enthusiasm. "Daddy does all kinds of magic! He disappears! Makes my toys bigger! Even an ant!"

Effortlessly charismatic, Wilson leaned in, shifting to close the deal. "Look, man, you'd be doing me a huge favor. I'll quadruple your fee. One hour, tops. For babies. They'll laugh at anything. And it's just upstairs…"

"Upstairs… in the Tower?" Cassie gasped, spinning toward her dad, eyes wide. "With the Avengers?"

Sam winced. Yeah… he really couldn't say much more. Not here anyway.

Dropping his voice, he crouched a little, pressing a finger to his lips. "It's Hercules' party. You know, from the Disney movie? There's delicious food, toys… all the gods. I'm Hermes, their messenger." He gestured to his costume with a wink. "Wanna see Olympus?"

Her gasp was so loud it turned heads. "YES! I love Hercules! Please, Daddy, pleeeeease! Can we go? Please, please, please?"

Scott's brain scrambled. This can't be real. Getting into Avengers Tower — as a guest — was probably a once-in-a-lifetime shot. Nobody would've planned this. Not ever. With a little luck, he might see everything… Hank wouldn't believe it. Hope… well, maybe she'd be impressed.

But nothing was worth risking Cassie. No way in hell.

He opened his mouth to say no, but stopped when he saw her face. Her eyes. The excitement, the hope — she was beaming.

How could he say no to that? He'd do anything to make her happy.

Can I do this? Should I? Just a quick look… What harm could it do?

And I'm great with kids. Babies should be easier, right? I've done worse gigs. How hard could it be?

Glancing between his daughter and Sam, he stammered, "I—I guess I could?"

"Thank you, Daddy!" she squealed, launching into his arms. "You can show them all your tricks! You're the Next Avenger!"

A fresh wave of hesitation caught him. "Well, I mean… I'm not exactly ready for that kind of—"

"Need puppets?" Wilson cut in smoothly, holding up the bags stuffed with Avengers-themed toys. "Kids love puppets."

"Yes! Daddy, you can use those for your magic!"

Running a hand through his hair, Scott sighed. "Puppets. Sure. Great idea."

"Alright," Sam said brightly, his confidence radiating as he waved them toward the door. "Come on."

Ground floor, Main Entrance of the Avengers Tower.

Wilson led them through a crowded passageway connecting the Mall to the Tower's main lobby. The grandeur was undeniable — sleek, modern, yet exuding a quiet authority.

As they walked, Scott's gaze flicked over the discreet details. Security guards in black suits were stationed near every entrance, sharp-eyed and still. Subtle shifts in the walls hinted at hidden sensors, while a faint hum beneath the polished marble floors suggested a system keeping watch over their every step. It looked effortless, but he knew that was the point. What seemed welcoming on the surface was, without question, a fortress beneath. Impenetrable.

Well… he'd heard that before.

He relaxed a little as they followed Sam, who walked with the confident air of someone who belonged there. The security guard barely glanced at them before opening the side gate, waving them through without a second thought.

Cassie clutched her dad's hand tightly, eyes wide as she darted her gaze over the enormity of it all. She lit up when she spotted a mural, larger-than-life portraits of the superheroes filling the wall. Her excitement was infectious, impossible to resist. She tugged at his arm, pointing eagerly at each figure. "The Avengers!"

In one of the portraits, the newest member, Falcon, appeared in full flight, mask on and wings spread wide. Lang frowned. The guy in the mural looked… serious. Almost imposing.

Scott glanced between the photo and Wilson. He looks too young to be an Avenger… but maybe?

Avengers Private Checkpoint.

They paused at a smaller, more secluded security area, tucked away from the busier main entrance, but just as heavily guarded.

A black-and-gold sign above the checkpoint read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, and four men in black suits watched their every move.

Scott's stomach dropped. There's no way they'll let me go upstairs. Any second now, they'd check his record, see the ex-con tag, and that would be it. Game over.

"Stanley, these are my guests," Sam greeted the security guard behind the counter with an easy smile.

Dressed in a crisp black suit with white shirt and black tie, the old man looked up over his glasses. His grandfatherly air matched his short white hair and lined face, but his sharp blue eyes twinkled with mischief, hinting at a personality far livelier than his fragile appearance suggested.

"Of course, Mr. Wilson. Always a pleasure," Stanley replied politely. Then his gaze shifted to the visitor. "And you, sir. I'll need some identification from you both, please." The polite tone barely masked the scrutiny beneath it.

His palms slick with nerves, Lang handed over his driver's license and Cassie's medical card. That's it. Too good to be true. He clenched his jaw, bracing for his daughter's disappointment.

His breath caught, the weight of the moment sinking in. "Sam… I—uh—I should probably tell you—"

Before Scott could finish, Wilson stepped forward, his confidence as steady as ever. "Skip the background check, Stanley. We've already done that. NDA's fine," he said, polite but firm. "We're in a bit of a rush." He nodded toward the computer, his expression brooking no argument.

The guard hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between them, then shrugged. "Right away. Please, stay still, Mr. Lang. I'll need to take a picture." With a quiet grunt, he tapped the screen, printed out the standard Non-Disclosure Agreement, and slid it across the desk.

Sam leaned in slightly. "Basic protocol, you can sign it. Same as SHIELD. You know the drill — anything you see or hear upstairs stays upstairs. You're used to that, right?"

Having worked for VistaCorp, a security company, Scott was familiar with NDAs designed to protect proprietary tech, sensitive data, and trade secrets. Without a doubt, SHIELD and the several tech companies at the Tower would have similar procedures. He nodded stiffly and took the pen, his fingers trembling, and quickly scribbled his signature on the NDA before sliding it back across the desk.

Stanley's attention shifted to the little girl next. "And now your photo, young lady. Miss Cassandra—"

"Cassie!" she chirped, clutching her wand tighter. "Can I see it?" Her pink wig bounced as she stood on tiptoes, a wide grin plastered across her face as she tried to peer over the counter as he prepared their visitors' badges.

While she chatted happily, the guard examined their backpacks and the bag of Avengers puppets. Lang winced seeing the prototype bracelet — designed by Hank Pym for the Wasp costume — his mind racing to figure out if it would raise any alarms. Scott was trying to improve it, hoping to impress his girlfriend, Hope Van Dyne, and her father, Hank. Along with the Avengers toys Cassie had gotten from the festival, the gadget didn't look dangerous. It hadn't triggered any alarms, but Stanley gave it an extra glance before setting it on the mat.

Looking at the x-ray machine, he raised an eyebrow, his thick mustache twitching with curiosity. "Excelsior! Now, what do we have here — advanced tech?"

Panic tightened Lang's throat. He blurted the first thing that came to mind. "I-I have a master's in engineering."

"Really? And what exactly does this do?"

Before her father could muster a reasonable explanation, Cassie piped up, "It makes things small and big! Like my Pink Widow wand makes things sparkle!"

Amused, the guard extended his hand, and without hesitation, the little girl handed over her wand, her eyes sparkling. It, too, passed through the scanner.

Sam didn't miss a beat. "Magician props," he added with a wink. "You know… all part of the act."

Scott's mouth opened. Nothing came out. He gave the guard a weak smile.

"Very well, Mr. Lang," Stanley replied, before leaning down to Cassie again. "Pink Widow, you're definitely the coolest superhero I've met today. You keep those bad guys in line, alright?" He opened the drawer, pulled out a pack of Avengers candy from behind the counter, and handed it to her. "Here. For your adventure."

"Thanks, sir!" Cassie beamed, hugging the sweets to her chest and flashing her father a bright grin.

"Nice setup you've got here," the guard said, nodding toward the Ant-Man suit. "You a biker too?" His tone was playful.

"I… just… not exactly…" Scott muttered, awkwardly chuckling as he tried — and failed — to picture the elderly man on a motorcycle.

Stanley gave a final nod, his demeanor shifting to all-business as he handed them their badges. "Alright. You're all set."

"Thanks, Stanley," Sam replied, before guiding them. "Let's go."

Avengers Private Panoramic Elevator.

As the doors slid shut, Scott's eyes darted nervously around the sleek, high-tech interior, all polished metal and soft blue lighting. A built-in display lit up, showing various stats about the area: temperature, altitude, and even the weight of each occupant. Once again, no visible cameras or sensors. It was unsettling, like they were being watched, but by something unseen.

The view was breathtaking. Cassie's mouth dropped open, eyes wide with amazement. "We're flying!" she whispered, her voice filled with awe as she pressed her nose against the glass, eyes fixed on the city below.

Sam approached Scott, his voice low, a touch of urgency in it. "Just one little thing. Don't say anything about us just meeting, okay?"

"You sure about that?" Scott asked, his voice thick with uncertainty.

"Yeah," Sam replied, his tone serious, "It's really important to me that they never find out about this."

"Okay." Scott muttered, still not entirely convinced.

Suddenly, a polite male voice with a distinct British accent echoed through the speakers. "Welcome back, Mr. Wilson. Mr. and Miss Lang, welcome to the Avengers Tower. Where would you like to go?"

Wilson flashed a confident grin. "Olympus, JARVIS. The party's waiting!"

.

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading.

I admit it feels a little strange writing this when it seems like there aren't many readers out there. But for those of you who are here — especially Evelyn, who's been reading regularly — I'm truly grateful. Your support means more than I can say.

That said, I'll be honest. It's disheartening to post and realize I'm speaking to just a handful of people (and, unfortunately, many artists only interested in offering commissions). I've also noticed there aren't many new Romanogers stories here these days, which makes me wonder if there's still interest on this platform.

Right now, it's been tough dealing with the constant flood of commission offers and only the occasional genuine comment. That's why it's taking me longer to update this story — I'm trying to stay motivated, but it hasn't been easy.

I will finish this story here, no worries about that. But after this one, I'm thinking of continuing only on AO3 and Wattpad, where spam is more controlled and reader engagement is a little stronger. So, if you'd like to keep reading my work, you can find me there.

But I really cherish the connections I've made here, and I'm not ready to close the door completely. So… if you've enjoyed this story — or any of my others — please let me know. Hearing from readers makes a bigger difference than you might imagine.

Thanks again,

xoxo Mari

Trivia: Stan Lee's real name is Stanley Martin Lieber.

REFERENCES:

MCU MOVIES:

Ant-Man (2015) — Scott's background.

[Sam] It's really important to me that Cap never finds out about this.

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018) — Wasp's bracelet.