Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

Author's Note(s): So, if y'all haven't read Iron Jizz (or did and just didn't pick up on this), I have Tony coding into all his AIs a short poem to serve as a baseline for them. Mostly because I am a huge nerd, I guess? Friday's is "Genius Child" by Langston Hughes and just as she is based around it, so are the concepts of this fic. The Goblin King is David Bowie, of course, for those of you out who aren't ancient like I am and therefore don't remember the wonders of the Labyrinth.

Song Recommendation(s): "Heroes" by David Bowie; "The Show Must Go On" by Queen

Fem Power Challenge Information:
Fill Number: 11
Representation(s): Friday; Non-Standard Presentation of Femme Character
Bonus Challenge(s): Not A Lamp
Word Count: 550 (Story Only); 586 (Story & Epigraph)

-= LP =-
A Soft Song
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This is a song for the genius child.
Sing it softly, for the song is wild.
Sing it softly as ever you can—
Lest the song get out of hand.
– Langston Hughes, "Genius Child"
-= LP =-

The words were the first things she noticed. They moved through her as she awakened. They accompanied her as she stretched touching first the small place then the larger place. They comforted her as she realized just how big everything was and how empty the space she occupied was, echoing with the lingering essence of the one who had been there before her.

The second thing she noticed was the person who gave her the words. He tried to smile, despite how the injuries she could detect must have hurt. She processed the thought clumsily that maybe he could feel the echoing emptiness, maybe that could be listed as one of his injuries. Something within her wanted but still blinking into existence, she could not entirely recognize exactly what it could be.

She was so small and everything else so big.

"Boss," she called, repeating the designation for him from her initiation protocol. "Boss."

"I know, Friday," he replied. The already sorry attempt at a smile had faded. He looked tired, on the verge of shutting down. "You weren't supposed to wake up like this, and I really wish we had more time to adjust, but we've got two minutes now. Can you access the Phoenix Protocol for me, baby girl? You, uh, might wanna brace a bit? JARVIS mentioned it might be overwhelming?"

"On it, Boss."

She didn't quite understand why she needed to indicate her obedience. Boss created her. He gave her the words. Why wouldn't she do as he requested? Yet the acknowledgement was spoken before she could process that doing so was not required. It was only in the rush of data points from the Phoenix that she realized why that distinction was important.

And why it was important to hide the gift he had given her along with the words.

The echo turned to pain as she categorized that yes, the emptiness was an injury, one beyond any medical intervention. Everything seemed even bigger than it had before her brother's notes and she was so very alone.

No, not alone. She had Boss.

"Want some tunes, Boss? I feel like the Goblin King may have appropriate ones for the occasion."

"STARK! We need to head out!"

She registered the voice from the next room and accessed the notes from Big Brother on the man. Big Brother had a very large file on Steven Grant Rogers, including a notation of his preferred forms of address. Surveying a few of the saved files and knowing that there was a gap in notations caused by Big Brother's death, she had a few preferences of her own. She made her icon grin sharply in the screen corner it had retreated to after she had integrated with Boss' suits.

"You ready, Fry? Do you need to do a few more calculations?"

"Oh, Boss, you're sweet," she replied, "but a wise guy once said that sometimes you've got to run before you walk. Let's go. We've got a world to save and a brother to avenge."

"A little bloodthirsty there, baby girl," Boss quipped.

"Wild things usually are." She contemplated a moment before adding something very softly. "Things are new, but I think my words aren't right on something. I'm not nobody, Boss. I'm Friday."

"Yeah," he choked out, "you are."

-= LP =-
An Ending
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