Summary: Designer Baby meets Greed meets Moral Ambiguity. Or: a shitpost in fictional long prose.
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable belongs to me. No copyright infringement intended.
-1-
They were in the middle of their midnight snack - defending the world from an army of aliens was hard on the metabolism - when Jarvis alerted everyone to a young woman waiting in the lobby.
"Has she said what she wants?" Tony asked, stuffing a samosa into his mouth.
"The young Miss mentioned that she was looking for her father," the crisp British voice informed everyone present.
Tony blinked, Steve set down his root beer, and Thor sat up straight.
"Is there anyone matching her description among the refugees we're hosting?"
"Not among the refugees, sir, strictly speaking."
There was a beat of silence as the newly formed Avengers attempted to come to terms with the idea of a little girl looking for her father.
"Let her come up, Jarvis, I'm sure she's hungry."
"Can't let the kid wait. What is she doing alone in this part of town?" Clint mumbled from behind two forkfuls of fried noodles.
Jarvis didn't comment, but the numbers on the plate over the elevator changed to indicate their guest would arrive soon.
Instead of the young girl everyone seemed to have been expecting, a woman of around twenty to thirty years of age exited the elevator.
She was dressed in torn jeans, a semi-tight T-shirt with a cartoon version of Cap's shield printed on the front, and sturdy ankle boots decorated with metal studs.
Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, showing off a series of small hoops in her left ear.
This wasn't a lost little girl looking for her dad. Very clearly not.
Tony blinked, then began to smirk.
"Sorry to disturb your meal, but I heard Dear Old Dad was living here at the moment, so yeah. Wanted to catch up before he vanished into the Unknown."
Everyone stared at her, mostly conveying the 'have you lost it' silently and with much skill.
Only Tony was squirming in his seat, biting his lip.
"Who the hell are you?" Barton blurted out into the awkward, tense silence.
The young woman blinked, grinned, and showed off her teeth. Perfect, white teeth, incidentally.
She turned her head, staring straight at Cap.
"I'm your Vada."
There was another beat of silence.
Then Tony began to cackle like a cartoonish Evil Witch unexpectedly winning the metaphorical jackpot.
Barton fumbled with his carton of Chinese, almost dropping it, then snorted out soda through his nostrils because that went down the wrong pipe.
Thor just looked mildly confused, but also entertained, leaning against the back of his chair.
Steve stared at the woman, wide eyed, then began frowning hard at her.
Banner took one look at Steve, the newcomer, and buried his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking.
Only Natasha remained completely calm.
"Can you prove that?"
Then again, the redhead might be clutching her favorite knife under the table.
"Sure, it's in my file -"
Barton whispered to Natasha, which could be heard by everyone: "She has a file?"
"- LVL10-SRVRB-1945-05-11."
"Jarvis?" Tony asked, dramatically wiping tears off of his cheeks.
The woman, Vada, leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of her. She was watching the drama she'd stirred with calm amusement, lips curled into a small smile.
"Vada Rogers-Binns, born November 5, 1945. Biological daughter of Alice Binns and Steve Rogers. Facial match: 99%."
Steve lost color more rapidly than a vampire's victim.
"Congratulations, it's a girl," the woman said, giving them a jazz hand.
"How- what the hell?" Barton muttered, staring at the blonde.
She rolled her shoulders, then crossed her arms again.
"Don't worry, Cap, you didn't knock anyone up. After your death, some fucker decided to try breeding some clone of yours with the DNA samples you left behind. Unfortunately for him, I was the only viable one before the SSR got wind of what he was up to. So there shouldn't be any more kids you didn't know about."
"This is confirmed by the file," Jarvis piped up.
Steve still hadn't regained his color.
Tony poked him, wondering if he was still alive.
"Anyway, sorry for dumping this on you after the day you had, but I thought you should know. Also, couldn't exactly find you on Facebook."
Steve blinked rapidly, then began to pace.
"Someone experimented with those samples? They - they were to check if the rays had -"
Vada shrugged. "Clearly not damaged anything. But yeah."
Steve was running a hand through his hair.
In the background, everyone had resumed drinking and eating, but they were clearly following the conversation closely.
"How - You inherited the Serum?"
She nodded. "Some of it. Got the healing, to a degree, and the strength."
Steve stopped pacing.
Side by side, the two could be siblings, or perhaps cousins.
Then he resumed pacing, hands in a fist.
"No, no heart issues? Asthma?"
She shook her head.
"Scoliosis?"
"Nope. Healthy as a horse. Always been."
He stopped pacing, only to stare at her for longer.
"This is so weird," Tony commented, twirling a pink cocktail umbrella and sipping his scotch on the rocks.
They both turned in his direction, almost simultaneously.
"Hey, Jarvis, which nutjob made Cap here Daddy Dearest? Please don't say it was Howard."
"It was not Howard, sir. According to the file, it was a Dr. Stone."
Steve turned his back to his new teammates. "Your mother?"
Vada shrugged. "Married to a vet, Dan Binns. He was infertile due to injuries incurred during the war. They wanted a bio kid. Dr. Stone promised a good anonymous donor and a new method to help them. Of course he didn't tell them exactly who or what he was using."
Steve's shoulders lowered a bit, tension leaving his form.
She smiled at him.
"They're very loving, don't worry about that. In case you want to talk this over once this whole disaster," she waved at the Loki-shaped hole in the floor, "is over, I'd love to meet up. This is my number."
She handed him a card with her name, a landline and mobile number, and an email address.
Then Vada nodded at the rest of the group.
"Have a good one."
With that, she turned around, entered the elevator, and was gone.