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Katara was surveying the room that had been her home for the past four years. Four years was two years longer than any place she'd ever lived before. She was excited and scared and worried and full of hope at the same time.

And she had no idea what was best to pack. She'd never had a chance to accumulate this much stuff before. One bag, one carry-on, and that was it. Military grade. Edges sharp.

Normally she'd go bother Sokka about it as he had a better eye than she did for stuff in general, but he'd been... even more distant and upset lately. So as it was there was just a pile of stuff on her bed that she was sorting through slowly.

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Marion Stark, codename ROGUE was on vacation. Or sick in bed. Or at the doctor's office. She was certainly not in a stolen Stark stealth plane scouring the desert after hacking into SHIELD satellites.

They really should have outsourced their security.

Come on, Tony. Where are you? Come on...

Soon enough, she'd land the plain and begin the grid search herself.

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Sweet Sixteen

Marion Stark woke up late on her sixteenth birthday and stretched in the generous double bed. One of the best things about being instructed at home by the world's finest tutors - no matter what day it fell on, your birthday was a day off. Even better, no matter where he was yesterday, Tony would be home today.

It would be good to see him. She had something she needed to talk about but - Focus on the good things, Marion - even without that, it would be good to see him.

She got up, showered, dressed... and before putting on her gloves, sat in the lotus position to meditate for a half hour. For a guy who insisted on charging them nothing, that guru sure knew his stuff. Meditation was the only thing that shut up the little monsters in her mind long enough for her to feel like herself in her own skin again. And then... gloves on... and out the door to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Jarvis."

"Good morning, Marion."

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.001

[It's as dark as it ever is in downtown Tokyo, and it's no place at all for a young girl to be lying facedown on the pavement of an abandoned park. The girl's clothes are strange, and ill-suited for a cold night. Red cloth wrapped around her top in an almost improvised sari breaking at the middle to some sort of red skirt-and-pants combination. More strangely is the waterskin at her side, made from no kind of leather that this world has ever seen.

The large fountain nearby bubbles cheerfully, as if urging her to wake up. She doesn't.]