First Spark: Chapter One of the Fireheart Saga

Part Four: We Shouldn't Be Doing This

A few days passed exactly the same. Sometimes, Amelia would catch Tony in an odd moment, staring at her thoughtfully until a memory spilled from his mouth and she would give him a fake smile, playing along as if Tony hadn't missed several years of her life. He even offered to help her cook once, something Amelia found very uncomfortable, and incredibly annoying. He had absolutely no sense of how to work a kitchen. The closest he came to being a cook was knowing how to turn the coffee maker on and after almost ruining her risotto one night she banished him from the kitchen. Whatever had gotten into him needed to get out because Amelia found herself liking this change in him, but she knew deep down it wouldn't last. She'd had enough disappointment from her father for an entire lifetime, she didn't need anymore.

The sound of the piano keys tinkling drew Amelia out from her room, a delightfully cheesy smell wafting over to her as she descended the stone steps into the living room. "Hey Obi." She greeted when she spotted the bald man at the piano. "Is that pizza?" she pointed to the square cardboard box planted on the coffee table.

"Straight from New York." He answered, one hand still playing a classical tune as he sipped from a glass of whiskey.

Amelia bent over the box and flipped the lid, breathing in deeply and sighing as a content smile spread across her lips. God how she missed New York. Amelia plopped the paper wrapped box tucked under her arm on the top of Pepper's pile of paperwork as she stepped past, heading towards the garage, and the ginger frowned at it.

"How's he doing?" Obi queried as Amelia lifted out a large slice of pizza.

"Fine." Amelia replied through a mouthful, "You know him, he's always fine."

She decided Obadiah didn't need to know about all the strange nostalgia buzzing around the mansion, that was an issue she could deal with herself.

"And you?" Obi worried but he didn't look up from the keys as he played.

"Wishing you'd answer my emails."

Obadiah laughed limply, "I'm in no position to tell you anything about the company, Amy." He argued, "You wanna know about that you ask your father."

"You asked my father to lay low." Amelia reminded him, watching him carefully over the piano, "You know Obi, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want me to know."

Obadiah paused his soft melody to smile knowingly at Amelia, a tightness to her lips that unsettled her. "Now, why would I do that, young lady?" he asked her, "You're the future of the company, after all."

Coming from anyone else in that moment, Amelia would take it as a compliment, hell she'd be over the moon to hear someone say it, but as she watched Obadiah's fingers return to the keys, a conspiratorial glint to his harsh eyes a shiver ran down her spine.

"You just focus on your studies." Obadiah waved a hand dismissively, "Maybe one day you'll grow to be smarter than your father."

Amelia dumped the half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box, her appetite lost as Tony appeared from the garage, right on Pepper's tail. "How'd it go?" Tony eyed Obadiah's weary look and the pizza on the table. "That bad, huh?"

"Just because I brought pizza back from New York doesn't mean it went bad." Obadiah denied fruitlessly.

"Uh-huh, sure it doesn't." Tony replied sarcastically, shoving Amelia over to get at the pizza.

Amelia retaliated by lying back on the couch and stretching her legs over his lap, pleasantly surprised when Tony just folded his hands over them instead of pushing them off.

"It would have gone better if you were there." Obadiah chatted and the music stopped.

Tony tapped a thumb against Amelia's calf. "You told me to lay low, that's what I've been doing." Tony reminded him as Amelia crossed her ankles contentedly.