Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, they are Marvel's thing. But Wendy is my invention, kay?

A/n: I don't know what this fic will turn into. I have some parts in my head already, but anyway. I'll keep writing if I have some response, so review if you like it. Other thing: My mother language is portuguese, and even though I love english, I may have done a lot of grammar mistakes and couldn't find a Beta. So if you find any mistake, feel free to correct it, and if you want to Beta, it'd be nice, talk to me.

Chapter 1

It was about a year and a half since he first tried to rule Midgard. And now he was wandering through the streets of New York, buying stuff to his new apartment and some new clothes. And he was in the form of a woman.

Since his last failure, he went back to Asgard, but got away before his punishment, back to Midgard, to finish what he'd started. But he had to live in disguise, in the form of a woman. And now the god had a plan, and he was almost ready to put it into practice.

It was a great plan, with no chance for mistakes. And he'd revenge. Because his pride was screaming inside, burning for a way to kill each one of the avengers. Slowly, making them beg for their lives, making them thinking they have a chance to live only to destroy them. And make sure the whole realm sees it, taking as an example of the strength of their new leader.

Only he could not let the hunger for the power take him and let his mind slip like the last time. He had to do it right. And his plan was perfect, but had to be done perfectly. Every move counting.

In disguise he would conquer the Avengers trust. And he would do it one by one, slowly getting into their lives, controlling it until there is no more turning back, so when they notice where they are, they are already doomed, in his hands.

The first one the god would trick into his plan had to be the weakest one. He'd studied all he could, he had been following their moves and he had already chosen his first target. The one who had some "dad issues", who could not even deal with himself, much less with others. And who would hide everything under a mask of iron, under a strong personality and smiles for the press.

There he was, Tony Stark alone in a bar, being entertained by the way the ice in his glass of scotch rotates when he turns the glass. It was not that he was feelings depressed. He coped very well with Pepper breaking up with him. He didn't even miss her (she was still working with him, so they were kinda friends now and he couldn't miss her anyway). But somehow he was disappointed with what his life was turning. He was finally in something close to a normal relationship with someone, for God, he thought he could be married with her someday, to have her children even. And normally he didn't mind with the end of the loving trials he had with girls all around, because most of the time he didn't even wanted anything else but sex. But with Pepper, he wanted to be with her, and nevertheless she left him.

And a couple months had passed and he had been with some other girls, but none of it felt the same. Tony Stark was feeling lonely and was in need of a real relationship. He just couldn't imagine anyone who could deal with him.

He wandered his eyes through the saloon, trying to find a girl – or a guy, even – that could be anything to him. Everyone in the place was either already talking with some other person, or having a great time with friends, too focused on their own happiness.

He let his mind play with those thoughts taking a sip from his drink when he saw a woman entering the bar and sitting by the counter. He examined her. She could have about 30 years old, her dark hair pulled back, a very pale skin, thin red lips and facial features of a goddess. Their eyes met for a moment and Tony decided to go talk to her. Maybe it was a sign.

"Sorry miss, is this sit taken?"

"No, it isn't." Her voice was sweet and soft. And her accent was different.

"So you don't mind if I sit here." He had a big roll of pick up lines that could make her laugh, but really it wasn't the thing now. He was willing to try to make it real. He no longer wanted one night stands.

"Not at all." The bartender approached, asking if she wanted anything. "A dry martini would be nice, please."

"Very nice choice. I'll pay it for you if that's okay." She denied and he liked that, she wasn't interested in his money. "And may I ask why a girl like you is unaccompanied?"

"I had no one to bring here with me. You see, I just moved, I don't know anyone in New York yet."

"So where you're from? No, let me guess… England?"

"Indeed." She forced an accent, in a serious face. And then let it drop to a chuckle.

"So you're funny too, huh? And what's your name?"

"Liz. Elizabeth Lane actually, but only my mother used to call me Elizabeth."

"Liz, then. Nice to meet you. I'm Tony Stark."

"I know. But it is very nice to meet you in person."

"So you recognize me and don't say a thing? Were you trying to avoid me?"

"No! No, I was not sure in the first moment I saw you. I didn't want to make a fool of myself. And from what I heard about you, the conversation could be interesting, at least. Either if it was good or very bad, you know, from what I heard about you… You seem to be much more pleasant than they say around in the tabloids, though."

"Nice to know that. Hope I can make you company for as long as you stay here."

"Sure. Just don't – I don't intend nothing else than company for tonight, if you know what I mean."

"Yep, and I won't do anything you don't want me to." He raised his hands in the air, showing he was harmless, making them both chuckle. He was comfortable around her already, just hoping this would go right this time, no complications. No heavy feelings. "So what brings you to New York City?"

"It is a long story. You see, when I had just gotten into College, my mother fell sick and I was the one to take care of her, since my older sister was living in the north and because of her husband work she could not move back. Or she just didn't want to. I dropped college, thinking I could go back to the studies as soon as my mother recovers, but she didn't. She had lung cancer. So I started to work in her book store, and well, most of my days I spent there, with the books. And she died two months ago, and after I took care of… everything, I decided I had to take my life back. I left that town and came to New York because apparently this is where everything can happen."

"Whoa, that's something. And I'm sorry for your mom. It must have been hard."

"Could have been worse. I mean, she was not the best mother in the universe, after all."

"Oh, I know, believe me."

And they went like that for no less than an hour. He heard to her most of the time. He listened. She had a lot to tell, she had no one else to tell, and he could listen, so he did. Because for some time if felt okay to be nice. He didn't have to be the Tony Stark from the tabloids.

Liz told him about the new book store she opened in the city, and how it was just starting but had its clients, and how she had found this teen girl with crazy blue hair to work with her. They laughed and drank and complained about the shitty music that played on the radio nowadays. And in the end of night he gave her a lift to her apartment, wondering if he could make this work.

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