Who: Pepper, Peter, Tony What: Iron Fam dinner. When: Backdated! The evening of this network exchange. Rating: Green
Tony called Happy and told him to swing by and pick up Peter, that it was a 'home-baked dinner' night. One that was baked, but probably in some high priced personal chef's home, and then bagged up and flown via Iron Drone to the penthouse. Everything that Pepper requested - brisket, sauerkraut, mashed potatoes - was laid out in the dining room, the glass walls affording a nice winter view of the city.
"Pepper! Dinner's ready!" Tony called out, looking suitably harried enough that it seemed he cooked the meal from scratch. His 'ward' was late, but he put a tracker on Happy's car and he could see on his phone that it was parked downstairs. That meant that Happy was probably grumbling about his ears bleeding before he headed home, and that the kid should be popping out of the elevator doors any second now.
“Oh, thank god!” Pepper came waddling out on swollen bare feet with a hand over the baby bump. She was almost always hungry these days which meant she rushed toward Tony in an effort to snitch a bite before things actually got underway. Sure, she was interested in meeting Peter, but her priorities were a little magnified.
She slid an arm around Tony’s waist as she tried to lean around him in an attempt to scoop a finger through the mashed potatoes...not really caring if she’d get scalded. “You’re tweaking.”
He was pretty sure that Peter spent the two nights trying to process an alternate universe, locked in the room he was given. Pepper was still trying to be super CEO and juggle all the things, including swollen ankles. Which, if Tony was asked, was pretty freaking terrifying since Pepper had only ever been one size: tall and wispy.
Tony put an arm around her and was smart enough to let the woman do whatever she wanted where the food was concerned. At this point, he was tweaking and he knew it.
It didn't mean he wasn't going to deny it, though.
"Nope, absolutely not tweaking. How are those potatoes? Mashed enough for you? Want me to whip out a glove and smush 'em more? I mean, the kid's gonna be here any second, so if those potatoes aren't mashed enough, I'll obliterate them."
While Happy wasn’t very pleased when asked to pull over on one of the busier city streets, Peter didn’t want to go to this dinner empty-handed. And so he scrounged up enough change to show up at the penthouse with a bag of cookies and cannolis from an Italian bakery, hoping it was a solid offering. Happy seemed to think so, at least, because he’d been a lot more forgiving when Peter had scampered back into the car to offer him a biscotti.
Stepping out of the elevator now, Peter was a little nervous. He was a little nervous about everything since he’d arrived from the end of the world, honestly, which was part of the reason why he’d holed himself up in the guest room the first time he was here. He was in a better state this time to meet Pepper, thankfully. As long as he didn’t break one of those expensive looking vases he nearly bumped into when making his way to the dining room, his first impression would be a good one, right?
“Mr. Stark? Sorry I’m kinda late, but there was a lot of traffic and Happy was...you know, not happy, and wow, that smells really interesting-” He paused as he rounded the corner, giving a sheepish wave to Pepper. “Hi. Hi - I’m Peter.”
“The potatoes are fine, Tony. Leave them alone.” Pepper looked at him with a smirk after pulling her finger out of her mouth. “And the kid has a name. You’ve told it to me a thousa-”
That was when a whirlwind miniature Tony came rushing through the penthouse. Pepper turned around and smirked. “And now I see why you two get along so well.” She chuckled as she stepped pointedly in front of Tony. “Hi, Peter. I’m Pepper and please stop calling him Mr. Stark. His ego is big enough.”
"Rude," Tony blurted out, looking at Peter over Pepper's shoulder. "My ego requires constant maintenance. Also? I am all about politeness. The kid's polite. You should encourage that more, be a good role model...."
Behind Pepper's back, Tony made several over-exaggerated gestures. These consisted of shaking his head with a Mr Yuck face and mouthing the word 'no' a couple times, followed by puppet hand yammering while he was eye-rolling. All of which would get him thwapped, and all of which he's done to Pep while she was lecturing him before. To make sure he didn't put Peter off of long term relationships forever (and to cover his ass in case the mother of his child turned around), Tony flashed a quick heart-hands.
Yeah. That got the point across. When in doubt, use pantomime and sign language.
"It's really nice to meet you," Peter managed to say before he was stuck between watching the progression of Tony's gestures and trying (and failing) to keep a straight face for Pepper. He hid his amusement behind a cleared throat, ducking his head down a little before he remembered the bag of dessert. "Oh! I brought these. They're from a bakery my aunt really likes. Ricotta cookies, cannolis, stuff like that. They have the Happy stamp of approval, apparently. Or he just really likes biscotti."
He hadn't had much of an appetite since tumbling from one universe into another, a byproduct of feeling like he'd swallowed too much grime and dust. But as he eyed the spread on the table, he was discovering that he was actually very hungry. "Can I - can I help with anything?" More politeness, but May had instilled those kind of manners in him like a reflex.
Pepper knew what Tony was up to behind her. He wasn’t nearly as sneaky as he liked to think he was. Besides, watching Peter’s expression told her everything she needed to know. At an appropriate time her elbow twitched backward at Tony. Sheesh. He was a big kid.
“Thank you,” she said as she all but jumped in front of Tony to take the bag from Peter. Tony would dig into and this was supposed to be dinner. “Next time you’ll have to bring your aunt with you.”
She saw the hungry look on Peter’s face and chuckled. “No. Thank you. Just go sit down.” She turned a sweet smile to Tony that he would recognize as her You stepped in it and will now pay look. “Tony will get everything for us.”
Tony was about to grab the bag, before he was cut off at the pass. Dessert before dinner? Denied.
He quickly forgot about that when Pepper smiled at him. It seemed he knew that look too well from the impish smirk on his face.
"I'd ask to negotiate this but you can't eat sushi right now, so there goes that meeting." How he avoided adding in 'super sexy' before the word 'meeting' was a miracle. It was better not to piss off the future missus at dinner time. He nodded over to Peter and pulled out a chair, saying, "Pop a squat, kiddo."
To Pepper, he pulled out the chair and waited while saying, "Anything else I can get you two? Beverages, courtesy of Chez Stark? Oh hey, Pep, I can put on the suit and give you a gently heated shoulder massage. While you're eating this epic...crap...ton of stuff that I could have made, myself."
Only no, he can not. At least he was watching his language around the teenager. For now.
"My aunt would really love to meet you. And you’d like her too - she’s the best. I think she kinda needs someone to talk about the whole..." Peter gestured, wordlessly conveying the whole superhero (or vigilante, in his case) deal. "-thing?"
He’d only seen May a handful of times since he’d been thrown into this universe like a bad spinoff of the Twilight Zone, and she knew he was holding back. He was trying so hard not to spill the whole I thought I died and I’d never see you again since telling her as much would be a recipe for a panic attack for them both. But if May had a friend like Pepper who understood the world Peter had thrown them both in, maybe it'd help.
"I’m good with anything, Mr. Stark." Or Tony, for the sake of his ego. Old habits were hard to break. Peter sat down and tried to picture the man laboring over a stove, finding that one difficult. "Do you…actually cook? I mean, can you?"
"I can cook," Tony announced, as though this was a press conference and he was making sure the journalists in the back of the room could hear him clearly. "I'm Iron Chef Man in the kitchen. Anyone who says otherwise is talking smack. My omelettes are epic."
Tony lobbed a pointed look over at Pepper as he disappeared into the kitchen, and came back with his arms tucked full of water bottles, half of which were of the sparkling variety. He strolled around the table, plopping down one of each before Peter and Pepper, before he sat down and placed his drinks next to his plate.
"Now everyone's got high priced h-two-oh. Go us." He gestured toward the spread of food like everyone could help themselves. "And before anyone goes unfiltered smart ass on me? I didn't cook this. I arranged it. So compliments on all that arranging that this took? Accepted."
He began to scoop out some mashed potatoes onto Pepper's plate, because he knows what side his bread was buttered on. Or how to butter up the future wife and mother of his child, rather. It's called overcompensation and Tony Stark excelled at it.
"Everything good, honey?" he asked Pepper, putting a slab of brisket on her plate. "Everybody good now? Nothing's on fire anywhere, I think we're in the clear. Here's hoping I didn't jinx us."
----------------
In the end, Tony jinxed things. Pepper had to excuse herself after a random whiff of BBQ sauce made her feel suddenly queasy. That left him and Peter sitting at the table, with leftovers.
Tony was feeling like quite the adult when he asked, "How's things at school? You're still in school. I hope. If not, your aunt's gonna kill you."
Peter was picking at the leftovers - and feeling bad that Pepper couldn’t enjoy it, too - when a question came up that he wasn’t particularly looking forward to answering. “Oh yeah, it’s going good! It’s going great.”
Peter glanced up at Tony quickly, trying to judge how convincingly his words were landing. He really wasn’t the best of liars. Not like this was lying…it was just skirting around the truth lying behind a string of absences and a missed chemistry test.
“I’ve been kind of distracted. With other stuff. I’ve been patrolling more. Mostly in Queens.” Which he guessed was putting his anxiety-fueled vigilance lightly, but if Thanos was still out there, if he was a threat, Peter didn’t want him hurting his family and friends on his watch. Because in the other universe, he had. “Just to keep an eye on things, you know?”
Tony was slightly askew in his seat, one elbow leaning on the edge of the table as he watched Peter as though he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For as many times as he said 'I'm ok' in response to everything, the fact was he often wasn't ok by any stretch. So when Peter was so emphatic that it was good and great, Tony was fighting off the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation.
So when that shoe dropped, he managed a smirk that didn't last long, and patted a hand down on the table.
"Ok, I get it. You want to make sure your home turf isn't getting stomped on. Great! You're keeping it friendly, more neighborhood watch stuff. Don't slack on the school things though, or your aunt's going to be calling me and not getting through, because I don't answer my own phone. Friday does. And she's weird about strange women calling me. Sometimes she gets weird about Pep calling me too."
Oh, right. The point.
"If you're gonna be doing the whole superhero thing, you're gonna need to micromanage. Have you been...sleeping enough or....you're picking at your food. Are you eating? Do you have anorexia? Do you need a therapist? I know a guy...or knew a guy, but he turns green when he's angry...."
That point was lost, somewhere in that mess of verbal vomit. It'll rear its head eventually.
Peter was nodding to everything Tony said, because he got it, he really did, but some stuff was easier said than done when the whole Thanos encounter in the other world had flicked a switch of nervous paranoia in him. If anyone could understand that, he knew it was Tony. He wasn’t Aunt May, he wasn’t Ned - Peter had been getting so used to veering away from the actual truth at home to protect those around him that he’d forgotten he didn’t have to do that here.
“Hah, no, no, the food was great.” Peter assured him quickly. If he was picking at it now, it was only because he’d eagerly stuffed himself full during the meal itself. “And…I don’t think I need to talk to anyone? I’ll think about it, though. Promise.”
And if Tony was talking about the Hulk, Peter didn’t think that poor guy needed to be subjected to a teenager’s problems.
“It’s just…I want to be ready. For whatever comes next.” Because there always was a next, and there were people and a city he wanted so badly to keep safe - May, Ned, MJ. Mr. Stark and Pepper and their little kid on the way. He thought back on what Mr. Stark had said; was he sleeping, was he eating. He wasn’t doing too good at keeping up with the norm in between watching the skies to make sure an alien invasion didn’t take any of them off guard like last time. It was moving backwards as far as coping mechanisms went.
He cleared his throat and sheepishly nodded. The point was there under Tony’s rambling, and he saw it. “…Sleep would probably help with that. All nighters kind of suck.”
"Yeah, and I said it because I suck at both of those things too." At least Tony could admit it, but he was side-eying the kid like he was doing a threat assessment. Peter did tend to get himself in a lot of trouble.
Even so, the least he could do was try to reassure him that things would be all right. Or as all right as they possibly could be.
"We have so many warning systems here, I think we'll have a head's up on things like...oh...Thanos, or any other alien invaders. We'll probably have a notice to scramble if the universe decides to pull its crap on us again. There's more eyes on this than just yours, you know."
Tony patted the table, not sure how anyone did that sleep thing.
"What do we need to do so you zonk out?" he asked Peter, leaning back in the chair and drumming the fingers of one hand in a relentless beat on the tabletop. "I have to every couple of days, or else I start making shitty life decisions. Would you feel better staying the night here tonight? There's enough alarms here that if you sneeze, you'll probably trigger an cold and flu alert."
It was true. He did have Friday monitoring for that. He had Pepper and their unborn son to worry about. Not to mention Peter, and everyone else he cared about, and everyone on the planet....
Ok, so there went his night's rest.
“Yeah, that…makes a lot of sense.” More sense than Peter thinking his late-hour patrols could make a difference in catching a galactic menace before it arrived, at least. “We have more back-up than last time.” It wasn’t just the pair of them with Squidward and a sentient cape: that had to count for something. “And we’re not stuck in space, so that’s awesome, right?”
It helped to be reminded that there were protective measures put in place, just like it helped to remember that because they’d been outmatched on Titan didn’t mean they would be here. Peter had been needing to hear that since he’d careened into one reality and into another.
“Are - are you sure? Would Pepper mind?” It wasn’t like he was a rowdy houseguest, but May had drilled into him the importance of making sure he wasn’t imposing. The idea had plenty of appeal, though - he hadn’t been looking forward to going home to an empty apartment. “My aunt’s working the night shift tonight, so I think she’d be cool with it.”
There was something like anxiety working behind Tony’s eyes that Peter recognized, and he wanted to distract them both from it. His gaze landed on his backpack that was sitting on a chair nearby, zipped closed and heavy with textbooks. “It’d give me more time to study for that chemistry test I gotta make up.”
He’d been planning on cracking open his notes on the subway back or in the car if Happy took him home, but he was cooking up a new idea. Peter raised his eyebrows and smiled a little wryly, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. “It’s too bad I don’t know like a…literal genius to…you know, help me out there.” Hint, hint, Tony?
There would always be some anxiety fueling the gears in Tony's brain. He was eyeing Peter as though he was aware of the offer of a distraction. Pepper had been distracting him for years before they ever became a real couple, by pushing post it notes and project plan outlines in front of his face.
Still, he realized he needed it as much as the teenager did, and stood up, moving around the table so he could sit down next to Peter.
"All right, I'm game. Show me what you got," Tony said with a nod. He doubted Peter really needed the help, considering the amount of chemistry involved to come up with the webbing compound. "Genius at your disposal. Let's do this."