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"Daddy," Emily calls from the doorway, hesitating a little when she sees that he's busy. Like everyone living with him she knows better than to burst into his lab when he's in the middle of something.
"Just a second, darling," Tony replies absently and then, to Bruce, "what if we turn it-"
"Inside out, yes, that's perfect," Bruce says excitedly, stabbing at the holographic model and pulling to achieve the desired effect. "We just need to-"
"Yes, yes," Tony interrupts impatiently. They gesticulate a little, without the holographic table it would look pretty funny, he knows because he watches it on the security tapes sometimes when he needs a laugh. "Okay, good," Tony says eventually. "You take it from here, I need to-"
"Yeah, go on," Bruce replies absently.
Tony steps away from the table and turns around only to find his daughter staring at him with a displeased frown, crossed arms. She looks a lot like Loki with that expression, what with the green eyes, dark hair and the stubborn set of her chin. "Oh, come on, darling. I didn't make you wait that long."
She huffs, all bratty teenager, and says pointedly, "I need to talk to you."
"Yeah, okay." Tony runs a hand through his hair, trying to chase the science out of his brain. "Where do you want to-"
"Here," she says quickly, stepping into the lab and taking a seat in one of the chairs. "You're probably going to need your computer."
Tony raises both eyebrows. "If you want me to use my satellite to spy on Santa again-"
"Oh my god, daddy!" she interrupts, cheeks reddening. "I was five, will you let it rest! No. It's about a boy."
"Uh," Tony makes, glancing at Bruce who is very pointedly concentrating on the holograph. It's not like he hadn't been expecting it, sort of, she is at that age, but that doesn't mean he's at all prepared. "Didn't you have a crush on that singer who's more like my age?"
"Don't be stupid, he's ten years younger than you," she says, as if that makes all the difference. "No, at my school. His name is Steven Bradbury and he asked me out. I need you to find out all the websites where he has a profile, and if in any of them he has ever been in a relationship with Deborah Branning. No, actually, if he even mentions her, I want to know that."
Tony stares at her a little and wonders if this is his fault. Did he ever cyberstalk anyone in her presence? Much of the stuff he does for SHIELD is hacking, and a propos SHIELD, she did grow up with two to three spies. "Emily," he says slowly. "You know I can't actually cyberstalk a thirteen years old boy? That's really kind of dodgy. Besides, have you considered… asking him if he's involved with Deobrah?"
She huffs. "I know he isn't involved with her now, he knows I would rip out every single one of his hairs if he double-timed me. But that stupid Deborah isn't saying anything and I need to know."
"Well," Tony says. He's fairly sure that he didn't even know what girls were at thirteen, much less that he was at all interested in them. Granted, he was busy finishing high-school, but still. "My point stands, I can't cyberstalk underage boys. Or any kind of boys, or girls, or anyone," he hastily adds. "There is such a thing as privacy, darling."
With a sigh, Emily sinks down in her seat a little. "Dad said you would say something like that."
Aha. "Did he now." So Loki is well-aware what Emily wanted to talk to him about. They're going to have some words later about properly warning a guy. Tony really is not flexible enough where Emily is concerned to have that kind of thing sprung on him out of nowhere.
"Yes, he said Midgardians are weird and filled with shame."
That sounds like Loki. He never really got the whole privacy thing, though it's no wonder considering he grew up knowing a creepy guy called Heimdall can literally see everything he does and is reporting live to his (step)father. "It has less to do with shame and more with… well, not wanting everyone to know what you're up to."
Emily stares at him for a moment. "Sounds a lot like shame to me."
That's not it, but Tony really doesn't know how to explain. How do you explain the concept of privacy to someone who has no understanding of it? He's already been through it with Loki a couple of times and he really should have expected for him to pass it on to their daughter. Maybe she'll grow into it when she gets into that phase Tony hears so much about, the one where she keeps everything to herself to establish her independency or something like that.
"You're not going to do it, are you?"
"No." Tony raises an eyebrow. "But I promote the talking to him thing." Look at how grown-up he's being.
Scowling, Emily sinks even lower into her seat. "What's the point of having Tony Stark for a father if you won't even do me a tiny favor like that?"
Tony rolls his eyes. "I don't know, pick any of the perks involving money if you can't think of anything else."
"Oh, don't be like that." She gets up and walks over to him for a hug. "You know I love you, even if you're less than helpful in my romantic endeavors."
Way to give him a heart attack. "Don't say it like that!" Tony squeaks, squeezing her a little. "I'm still getting used to your crush not being unattainable!"
Pulling away again, she pats him on the cheek. "It's okay, daddy, I'm not ready for sex yet. I'll go talk to dad about how to interrogate Steven, if it makes you feel better."
"Yes, please," Tony chokes, still recovering from the part where his baby girl said "sex".
She giggles and leaves.
"Bloody hell," Tony groans once she's safely out of earshot.
Bruce chuckles from the holotable. "She's growing up."
"Don't say things like that," Tony whines. "My little girl!"
"She's thirteen, Tony," Bruce reminds him. "Not so little anymore."
"Get out of here, you're a horrible friend." Burying his face in his hands for a moment, Tony takes a deep breath. He is definitely not ready for this.
Bruce chuckles again, but then he gives Tony an out, which makes it forgivable. "Come on, help me with this, I'm stuck."
"You're forgiven," Tony states quickly and gets over to the holotable again. He can ask Loki later what exactly is happening with Emily, over a glass of scotch or five.
