MARIA STARK

It was like he was back in the 1940′s. There were loads of instances wherein Howard had heard those words. ‘Do you not know who I am?’, ‘Don’t you remember me?!’. They were usually followed by a slap across the face and some cursing about how he was an arrogant ass-hole who slept around without a care about who he was sleeping with. But this was the 21st century, and as if yet, he hadn’t slept with anyone since his arrival. Flirted, yes. He was still Howard Stark. But he had ensured he kept his distance. All of these people were basically like his grand kids. It was weird.

But in this instance, it seemed different. There would only be a few people he would recognise. One was his son. The other was Captain America. Whoever she was? Did not ring any bells. He shifted forward, pushing the flimsy fence out the way, and glancing down to his mud-covered shoes. Nice. “No. Should I?” He glanced back to her, only briefly, squinting as he did. He wanted to see what would happen here. Who she was and why she was here. 

“Do you have one of those mobile telephones? Or a torch? Lost mine in the mud somewhere. I can’t break into– MY OWN - property at night without a torch!”

     that makes it official , howard’s lack of recognition of her , but she won’t give up just yet . it has to be the light ! he cannot see me ! she repeats to herself , the italian woman walking closer to the man she once called her husband .     “ where do you think you are , howard ? ”     she knows his name , and maybe that will trigger something . . . or maybe he will believe her to simply be a silly little girl obsessed with a genius and millionaire . maria still won’t give up .