So, I've been on a Marvel kick lately... I know, I'm a bad person, I've been over this a million times before, I shouldn't start a fic without finishing (or at least updating) the others, but... Science Bros... It had to happen.

Warning: I WILL NOT POST LEMONS! Not here, at least- there will probably be cutscenes. If you wish to see the unedited version, ask me for a link to the Google Doc, where you can read along while I write and such. :3 Should be fun. Chapter one is already underway (I keep thinking 'almost done,' but then I'm like "I can't end it there!" and keep going.) So... now you know.

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Marvel or anything associated. I am a fan, and this is fan fiction.

"JARVIS? Progress report- how's the construction in New Mexico going?" A very bored-looking Tony Stark asked of his AI while putting the finishing touches on his latest Iron Man suit. It had been several months since the troublesome god Loki's arrest and subsequent departure from Earth, which meant relative peace for the man. His relationship with Pepper had suffered quite the blow after an argument about how he had no concern for how she might feel about his reckless actions that day and so on, but he stood by them, as he knew that he had done the right thing- hell, he had even tried to contact Pepper one last time. He would have died a hero and she would have had Stark Industries literally handed to her on a silver platter, what more could she possibly want from him? Well, unfortunately, she didn't seem to feel the same, and their on again off again romance was shut down for good in a fit of rage. She still worked for Stark Industries, however, cleaning up his messes, but always used personal assistants or Jarvis to relay messages rather than talking to Tony directly whenever possible.

Of course, this had been a big blow for Tony, who had been trying to settle down with her, and it sent him on a bit of a drinking binge for several months that didn't end until finally, in just that past week, he had come up with an idea. Something huge, something that would rocket SI to unreachable levels. It was, essentially, a generator, made up of the same element he had created and used in his Arc Reactor for power several years ago. He was having a scale model of the setup he had used to create it initially to make a CORE that was big enough and powerful enough to, ideally, sustain all of Manhattan by the time it was completed. Of course, the machine took up a lot of room, which meant he needed a lot of land that would be undisturbed, so he was having it made in the middle of nowhere in a desert, where no one would get hurt or stumble upon the construction itself by accident. The project itself was unannounced, and would remain that way, as Tony really didn't need anyone snooping around in his personal business- namely, the army. They would only use it to make more powerful weapons. Unfortunately, this meant having to either do the work himself, which was impossible because he had to be around for SI, or have bots do the work for him, which would take an excruciatingly long time, but would eventually get the job done. Hopefully.

"We are still waiting for deliveries from Stark Industries, sir, including the robots, cement, and metal." The AI replied cheerfully.

Tony rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose an annoyance, "In other words, we haven't even broken ground because some idiots got stuck in rush hour?"

"Precisely, sir."

A sigh. "Fantastic. Can I at least get an ETA on the deliveries?"

"Estimated time of arrival-" The AI cut itself off, "Sir, someone is requesting authorization to see you."

Tony narrowed his eyes, not particularly in the mood to be disturbed, "Who is it, JARVIS?" A screen popped up before his eyes, displaying a young woman with dark brown hair curled in a bun, holding a clipboard to her chest with one hand, and the child of a young child that he couldn't quite see the face of in the other. "Any idea what she wants?"

"She gave the receptionist well documented information concerning that girl with her. Her name is Lucinda Pilsner, and according to these documents, she is your biological daughter." JARVIS replied, "I am running background information checks and searching for possible forgeries or falsifications now, however, it will take at least two hours for the search to complete."

The billionaire's eyes widened in shock. A child? His? Of course he got around in the bedroom department, but he was always careful! Determined that it must have been a falsification, he waved his hand dismissively, "Fine, let them in. You, DUM-E, clean up around here, hide anything dangerous..." He glanced around his lab and corrected, "Scratch that. JARVIS, have someone escort them to the nearest available conference room and tell them I'll meet them there. How are the preliminaries looking?"

"Preliminary reports are showing no evidence of falsification." JARVIS announced, "They will be expecting you in conference room three, sir."

This was, of course, not the first time he had received visitors like this. People claiming to have his child looking for money or fame, hell, he'd even gotten a call asking him to go on Maury once, but it was always the same story, just some desperate broad looking for a paycheck. This time, however, was the first time they'd made it past the front desk, and even JARVIS seemed convinced, so, although he was skeptical, this did sound pretty worse-case scenario for him. The last thing he needed was to make himself look any worse in the public eye, not to mention the army would have a whole new reason to want to confiscate the suit. That was what was on Anthony Stark's mind when he burst the doors to conference room three open, startling the child, who curled back in her chair. He wasn't looking at her though. No, he was checking out the woman who had brought her in, and, before he even so much as sat down, he decided, "Alright, look, lady, paychecks are a Thursday thing and I don't handle them." When she seemed confused by his snarky response, he clarified, "I have a pretty good memory. I could pull out my little black book, but I know for a fact that you're not even my type, so I would have remembered making an exception. If you want, though, go ahead and bring your story to the press, be my guest! It'll be all the more fun to tear you apart. You've got five minutes to walk away now before I call my attorney, and trust me when I say, you would not like my attorney. Hell, I don't even like the guy, but he does a good job, so-"

"Mr. Stark." The woman cut in sharply, flashing her badge, "If you have such an excellent memory, then perhaps you would remember her." She held a glossy photograph out for him and he eyed it warily, then the table, indicating for her to put it down.

Sighing when the woman didn't get the message, he said, "Put it down. I don't like being handed things." Eyeing him suspiciously, the woman set the photo down and Tony edged his way to the table and took a seat, picking it up to examine the image of a fairly familiar blonde, "Yeah, I remember her. She was just a kid, but she wanted it bad, and she was technically old enough. Leggy blonde with a sweet, tight-"

The woman cleared her throat, "I would remind you that there is a child present." Taking note of the child that was looking away, pretending not to listen to the grown ups, Tony quieted and listened as the woman went on, "You seem to recognize her, at least. That woman, Sarah Pilsner, recently deceased from an overdose."

Tony rolled his eyes, not surprised at all. Most of the women he'd had were just as screwed up. "Sorry to hear that?"

"She was this girl's mother." The clarification didn't really need to be made, as Tony was, after all, a genius, but he was trying to play dumb to get rid of them faster.

The billionaire got to his feet, "Look, I'm not a father. I'm not someone who should ever be a dad. I've got a company to run, inventions to update and maintain, and, perhaps you haven't noticed, but I'm apparently in charge of intergalactic peace now, too!" Perhaps if he had been paying more attention to her, Tony would have noticed the way the child curled into herself, trying to make herself smaller, remove herself from the situation.

The social worker glared sourly at Tony, "You are a father, Mr. Stark, whether you like it or not. You claim to be a superhero, but would you really send your own daughter into foster care when you know as well as I do that you can more than afford to supply for her just because it's a bit of a hassle?"

Following her hand gesture to the child, he saw that the kid was smiling... But it was not a real smile, he knew that- no, he had seen that expression before. The sorrow in those blue eyes, the way her bottom lip was puckered in as she bit it to keep the tears from falling. She was trying so hard, so hard, not to be loved, just not to be hated, not to be thrown out, tossed aside. Instantly feeling guilty, He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from the kid, "What about her grandparents? Aunts, uncles?"

"Grandparents are deceased, her only aunt is in jail on murder charges. Please, Mr. Stark-"

"Out." He grumbled, pointing to the door, his hand still rubbing his temples. When there was no immediate movement, he shot a glare at the social worker, "Get out. I'll figure out something to do with her, but in the meantime, you, out. I don't want to see you around here again." He knew he was childishly taking out his frustration on the poor woman, but he didn't much care. After all, it was a lot to absorb in one day.

"Does that mean-"

"Yes, for God's sake, leave your paperwork with my secretary, I'll deal with it when I'm less sober." The social worker, apparently very happy to be leaving, ducked out of the room, leaving the girl, cowering, alone with the father she'd just met. The father she'd seen on television but had never dreamed was he flesh and blood. The father she had never heard from in all her four years of life. Tony glanced over at her, noting the fear she regarded him with, even though she was trying to look happy and grateful. What was he supposed to do? He had his own issues to deal with, the last thing he needed was to try to work with a screwed up kid from a screwed up family... But he couldn't throw her into foster care, either, and he didn't want to be like his father, so detached and cold.

"Sir?" JARVIS interrupted hesitantly, "I have finished gathering the data you requested."

Tony closed his eyes, "What's the verdict, JARVIS?"

"None of the papers have been forged. All of the documents come from authorized, high-quality facilities, and there is no reason to suspect any foul play."

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Have someone send the strongest drink we've got to my room yesterday."

"As you wish, sir."