Secret Life of Bree Ann Stark

I Meet the Star Spangled Spandex Man

I sigh as I walk towards my father's building, my leather satchel slung over my shoulder. It's just another weekend home from boarding school, but sadly this time, I come back bearing bad news. It's just another near the end of the year expulsion for good ole Bree Ann Stark. Now, you'd think considering my father is one of the richest and smartest men on earth, I'd be able to have some leeway and sway in the school structure and hierarchy. Only problem is that the world isn't exactly updated on the fact that the great, almighty, and powerful playboy, Tony Stark, secretly doubles as a single dad.

Yep, that's right. Tony Stark is my father. And no, he isn't the absolute worst father ever, thank you very much. Despite the drinking, partying, and bringing home a different woman every few days or so, Dad is actually pretty great at raising me. Granted, he isn't always around, but he tries his best and has his moments. He often would make me little robotic toys and servants to keep me entertained when he was away and look after me. There were also those occasions when he would even help me with homework when I was little. Dad also tried to protect and shield me from his world so I had a mostly normal childhood. The press never caught wind of me and if they ever suspected something, there was always a cover story for why I was hanging around Dad.

I take a deep breath as I whip out my "Stark Internship" ID as I walk past the front desk. I tighten my grip on my leather satchel and keep alert to every aspect of my surroundings out of nervous habit. Every once in a while, I discreetly look behind me as I speed walk through the lobby. As soon as I reach it, my hand rushes to hit the elevator button. I can't help but bounce and rock on my heels as I wait. I let out a sigh of relief as I enter the elevator and hit the button to the top floor. I tap my foot as I start my ascent. I watch the numbers rise higher and higher, thankfully not stopping to make a pickup for fellow passengers.

Ding!

Well, spoke too soon. I sigh and look at the floor I've stopped on, the 84th floor. Oh great. The Avenger's personal gym and training area take up the majority of this floor. Father will definitely not enjoy me coming into contact with any of the other members of the Avengers. As far as I'm aware, none of them know I even exist. I know dad had made sure to keep my existence mostly off the record books with the exception of grades, my birth certificate, and a few medical records kept by our personal family doctor. The only people that knew about me were our aforementioned family doctor, dad (obviously), Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and (of course) Dad's AI, JARVIS. I silently hope and pray that it's just my father who was coming up from the gym rather than one of the other avengers.

Unfortunately, I wasn't so lucky in that hope as Captain Steve Rogers steps into the elevator. I shift uncomfortably and keep my head down as I edge away from him in an attempt to stay hidden. To my unfortunate luck, I failed miserably in my efforts. Captain Rogers turns to me after he notices the avenger's living quarters have already been selected. I feel his eyes on me so I look up at him from underneath my lashes. One confused eyebrow raised and a kind smile graces his face.

"Hello, little miss. Are you perhaps lost?" Captain Rogers asks.

"Ah, um, no," I stumble. "You see, I'm here because of my d... I mean mentor, Mr. Stark. He had requested I come here right away after I was let out of school today to help him with something. I think he might need my help with programming and tweaking some training simulator designs I've been suggesting he add to the Avengers personal gym and training facilities."

"Oh, is that so?" Captain Rogers asks, thankfully overlooking my partial lie. "I'm Steve. What's your name, Miss?"

"Bree. Bree Ann St... um, sir," I stutter. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"No need for formalities," Steve chuckles.

I smile shyly in response. The dinging of the elevator as the door opens cuts our conversation short. Steve allows me to exit first. I rush out with my grip tightening ever so slightly on my bag. I pause for a while as Steve steps out.