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“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s not smart to burn your bridges?” Tony asked. He observed the tension in the man’s posture, the coffee was terrible. Bitter. It had nothing redeeming about it but Tony ignored it, he hadn’t come here to sample fine drinks, this really wasn’t his kind of place. Suddenly he laughed but it was a sad sound, as if he suddenly realized he was tired. “You know, I still have dreams that I pull your father’s casket up from those black freezing waters and I’ve discovered some way to bring him back. Then I wake up. I have to relive the biggest mistake I’ve ever made,” He shifted in his chair. “Was it worth it? No. And then I lower my head and I know…” Tony bowed his head closer to the coffee mug. “I know you were right, Steve.” He whispered to the bad coffee. His words caused soft ripples.

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“Princess?” Tony straightened up. “I’ve been harder on my child than any parent I have ever met. Don’t you remember?” He questioned with a black eyebrow moving up. “She never came first and she should have, she should have been my little Princess but she didn’t get to be that. Did you know that she has nine masters and six of them are from M.I.T?” He regarded the boy with an even stare. “It doesn’t look like you’ve faired, personality-wise, any better than she has. The two of you-”

“Papa.” The girls voice twisted behind him. Tony turned around on the tool.

“Darlin’!”

“What are you doing?” The touch of suspicion came through her voice. “I already talked to him, its done, lets leave him alone.” But you had to do better, right Papa? Because I didn’t do a good enough job, right, not even close? That struck her even more, through the way he had told her she should know how to put together a little “rag tag team” of kids by now, that by her age he could have taught a bag of rocks to fight crime.

“I’m not going to rub him the wrong way, Pete, just relax,” Tony shook his head. He turned back around, he didn’t give the girl much credit despite trying to build her up in Vecks mind a moment ago. He treated her somewhere between nagging wife and incompetent protégé. “Besides, you don’t want him anyway; he’s got enough anger issues to boil my tea for the next three centuries.”

She felt flushed with many things, “I don’t.” Was all she could manage to say. “I don’t,” She repeated. “I just wanted to handle this myself, this was my job and-”

“And you botched it.” Tony cut her off. “End of discussion. If you want to try something new, sit down, if not, go home. I’ll take care of it.”

Her hands loosened at her sides, why does he have to treat me like a little kid in front of Veck? Why does he- she looked away from her father’s back as he sipped his coffee slowly, not really interested in it, she could tell by the way he drank it. He drank that way when he didn’t like it and was trying to humor the company or the cook, if he liked what he was drinking he took quick gulps, lips barely on the glass for a half-second. She had spent her whole life in observation of the way her father did things, down to the way he drank coffee and if he tugged to the right or the left. “I don’t want you to take care of it, the whole point of this is for you to not take care of it!” Her voice twisted up, she approached the back of the stool beside her father. Suddenly, Veck didn’t make, the two locked eyes and both of them had the critical clarity of a fanatic.

“Pete-” He took a warning tone.

“I’m twenty years old, Papa, you-you-"

“Then start acting like it, its not my fault you couldn’t make this work Petre!” Tony raised his voice. “You wanted to take the reigns, you’ve been complaining about being stuck working on formulas and fixing my armors for months now. This is the real world. People are difficult, aren’t they? You have to push harder, you don’t have the social smarts to handle something like this, you never have.”

“You always say that…” Pete trailed but her voice was loosing its place. It was uncanny how fast Tony could take her and mash her into a little ball, he’d always been in control, he’d always been the big boss. He still was. Pete would never get away from daddy, not on her own anyway. Her lips parted but nothing came out.

“You have a masters in Business and you can’t sell a bag of frozen fish to a guy who is standing on the side of the road with a sign that says, desperately seeking a bag of frozen fish.” Tony pushed the coffee away.

Pete felt moisture in her eyes, “That’s not fair, you’re making comparisons to-to something unrealistic to the scope of what I’m trying to do. This isn’t anykind of marketing, this isn’t a good speech--- I’m trying to get people to heal, to come together, to fix what your side of the fight caused and what the other side caused and barely anyone wants to cooperate with me! I’d have an easier time selling a bag of dicks to a Catholic Nun!”

“Go home.” Tony stared at her. He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. He tilted his chin down enough to look down at her.

Pete’s bottom lip trembled and she clenched both hands into fists, “This isn’t my fault-”

“Don’t you dare give me the excuses of a three year old,” Tony turned towards the Barkeeper. “Hey, pal there seems to be an absence of the ‘ol hooch around here, pour me a dark whiskey sour, will ya?”

“Oh, oh that’s cute Papa, now you’re going to drink me away, huh? You managed to stay sober what, two days this time?” The girls voice pitched up more. It started to fit her small form better. As she squabbled on beside him like a parrot he leaned closer to Veck.

“God forbid you ever get stuck as a single father and god forbid if you do that you have a girl.” He noted, sounding as sexist as he possibly could. The Bartender set the drink down which Tony took up instantly and swallowed a gulp of. “You need to remove this young lady from the bar, she’s not old enough to be drinking.” He added.

Pete’s face transformed into a furious glare towards the Bartender when the man opened his mouth, “I’m with my father!”

“Don’t drag me into this crap.” The Bartender grunted.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

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Petre stared at Tony and then past him, at Veck. “Because the two of you are here, that’s why I’m here but it doesn’t matter…” The young woman exhaled, trying to give up some of the tenseness she felt. Can I make this work without the son of Captain America? “Alright.” She said, voice dying down with her confidence, energy, and willpower.

Tony swallowed the rest of his drink, well this didn’t work out like I thought it would, I’ll have to tell her what was on my mind later tonight… I’m sorry darlin’, went and yelled at you for nothin’. Stark knew she would understand, probably even think his idea had been a good one. He knew nothing brought two people together easier than finding a common enemy, he didn’t really want to be that guy, but he figured for this night he’d bite the bullet to try to get Veck Rodgers to feel something besides anger. Stubborn like his god damn father, I should have known… Tony rolled his head around his shoulders, feeling a delicious pop in his neck.

Pete left.

“Well you know, Veck,” Tony got off the stool. “With as many bad cards as you’ve been dealt, eventually, you either quit playing the game or you get over it and keep playing. Since you seem to resent me for throwing money at you, I’ll stop,” He tossed a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “I have a lot of other people who wish I’d throw money at them, and by the way, I didn’t mean any of those things I said about my daughter I was trying to get you to be a knight in shining armor, you failed miserably,” He lifted a hand in a goodbye to the bartender who had already collected the bill from the counter with a nod. “Chow.”

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

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“Don’t you get it?” Tony turned back. He took a sleek pair of sunglass out of the inner pocket of his suit. “This isn’t about being right or being wrong and it is sure not about someone exerting their will over someone else. If Petre wanted to have you under her control she’d have made herself the leader and you beneath her, she wants you to lead. Not because you’re Steve’s son… because she cares for you, she trusts you. Pete doesn't... care for or trust many people and, maybe, that's my failure as a parent. I do know if she didn’t care, she wouldn’t engage in these emotional arguments with you. She’d turn off and turn away, she wouldn’t even blink in your direction.” Tony put the sunglasses back, Geeze, Stark, you really are distracted… forgot its night time, not the normal hour for needing sunglasses. “516-616-904,” Tony said. “That’s her number. Call her.”

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

There was a long pause, the sound of breathe on the other end. “Veck… Papa is right, you know… I can’t do this, I can’t even convince Captain America’s son to be an Avenger. I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” Confidence gone. Tony’s words had done their work, as only his words could. She couldn’t find her feet unless he told her they were attached to her ankles. “Don’t be sorry.” Petre had never liked that word, though it was one that was never said in the Stark house. Pete would say sorry to Tony but Tony never said sorry to her and she never said sorry to anyone else. Sometimes… smart people were really stupid.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, when you don’t know what you’re doing you make mistakes,” Her simple logic was self-defeating. “I can’t make mistakes, Veck… when we were kids, I thought you were the greatest thing next to my father but I didn’t know how to talk to you, to anyone, I still don’t I guess… heh sometimes I feel alien. Genius. Social retard. Some trade off.”

Over the phone it was easier to say these things, things she was sure if they had been standing face-to-face she would not have opted to say. “You know when we were little, I thought we had this great destiny together. It was about as fantasy oriented as I think my mind has ever been. I had this hypnosis because we both had cybernetics, that we were… oh, I dunno anymore-” She sighed harshly. “Two halves to some greater… engine, I suppose but… its senseless, no fact, no….” Just stop talking.

Standing outside the bar, the occasional person passed her in the street. In New York, no one looked at each other. If they did, it usually met something negative. Her brilliant blue Lotus car was parked on the side at a meter.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Petre felt her stomach move a little with butterflies but she didn’t really realize this was because she liked Veck Rodgers. She had never had a crush on a boy. Never really like anyone, fact or fiction. Tony had not let her be in situations where it ever had a chance of happening but now, twenty years old, standing outside a bar holding a phone against her ear she felt it rumble. I can’t… Pete whispered in her mind, all she could do to keep some feeling of control. She suddenly remembered being very small, crying, and having her father standing over her, hands on his hips, staring down with cold blue eyes when she was crying nonsense. Use your words. He snapped. “Veck,” She finally said something. “I don’t want you to hate me, you know. I didn’t… control myself back at the Mansion. I-” Sorry still couldn’t come. Wouldn’t come. “Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” Her voice, usually rather monotone or distant, had become soft. It was small this way. Small and feminine and lacking any real power, if he didn’t know what she looked like on the other end of the phone it would have been one of those voices men just liked. Something to whisper in your ear, oh you’re my hero. But the girl on the other end was tiny little Pete Stark, cold little fingers wrapped up in some technological disaster and mind a bundle of tangled wires that somehow still operated despite their chaotic form. Of course, what she asked sounded very much like a girl asking a guy to come spend the night with her in one of those softer, not straightforward ways that still made perfect sense.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

“Come outside when you’re finished drinking,” Petre said. She looked at the car that she liked a lot even though she hadn’t put one finger on it construction wise. It was the first car she’d just bought. No tinkering, alterations, or building from the frame-up. “I have my own area in Stark Tower III, there’s a place you can sleep and it’s safe.” When I’m with him, my mind is quiet. No stupid theories. No random equations. Just me. She focused on the car, Lotus Evora, something imported from Europe. The blue was fierce. “I’d let you drive but you’ve probably had too much fun in there…” The small girl looked back at the bar door, feeling that same pit in her stomach. She reached up and touched her short black hair, style-less and boyish and for the first time she felt ugly and awkward. Things she had not thought of before. Supercuts… Pete sighed, one of her fathers nicknames for her which had spawned from an argument he’d had with Maria Hill. One of many. Even though she had a penthouse in Stark Tower III, the same as her father did in the second tower, Pete usually stayed in the second tower in the same room she’d had since being a little girl. The place that was “hers” was a dead space but now she was glad she had it.