Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" I love you 3000, Rowie. " +
He stands tersely in the middle of his living room, face lighting up with his computer's holographic imagery, wrinkles far from visible despite his growing age. "Look at a mod inspiration, let me see what check out. So, recommend one last sim before we pack it in for the night. This time, in the shape of a mobius strip, inverted, please."
With his hand rubbing his chin, he watches on as Friday retorts, "Processing."
"Give me that eigenvalue. That, particle factoring, and a spectral decomp. That will take a second." The brunet man adds.
"Just a moment."
"And don't worry if it doesn't pan out. I'm just kinda -" with an interruption on Friday's behalf, the computer displaying exactly what the older man requests, he stumbles back in amazement; a mere curse displaying his disbelief on the seemingly impossible statistics.
"Language."
Tony Stark jumps slightly, a meek voice startling him from his genius euphoria as he didn't expect anyone to be awake at this hour; let alone a girl standing nonchalantly in the middle of the doorway. He turns, tired eyed widening at the sight of the brunette who sneakily welcomed herself in, a lock-picking asset she's picked up over the years of being a rebellious teen looking to get some fun in.
"Rowan?" The older Stark, "how did you...? When did you learn how to pick a lock? And who taught you?" He pauses, shaking his head, "Nat. It was Nat, wasn't it?"
"A YouTube video actually." The growing woman grins, walking over and pulling her father in a long needed embrace. "I missed you, dad."
"God, what's it been? Five months? Not cool, Rowan Angeline. You're supposed to visit your old nan everyday, especially when he's paying for you to live the basic Starbucks and In-n-out life back in California." He retorts with a pointed stare. "Have you been eating? You look thin. Jesus, girl, haven't you seen what those tanning beds do to your skin? Cancer and wrinkles. Do you want to look as good as your old man when you're my age-"
"I don't use tanning beds-"
"And your hair! You know your little sister wants to grow it out like yours; 'I want hair like Rowie', 'Rowie this, Rowie that', thanks by the way; daughter stealer."
"Dad-"
"Did I tell you Morgan aced her math test? Her teacher called to brag about how smart she is; Pepper took all the credit but we both know you two get your impeccable math skills from your old man-"
"Dad!" Rowan interrupts her father's rambling with a chuckle, shaking her head, "just say you missed me too, alright?"
A soft smile finds its way onto Tony's lips, pulling his oldest daughter close and kissing her hair in a longing gesture. They both knew why Rowan had suddenly stopped by, the girl the one to usually inform them whenever she decides to land in town, that time being in the earlier afternoon and not eleven o clock at night where Tony had just finished analyzing the time travel data. She sighs, "Nat and Steve came to see you, I heard."
