Naive Characters: Steve, Wanda, Raven, Tony but most importantly Anthony. Setting: The bakery, then the Tower, NYC. Content: Questionable child rearing. Summary: The only reason Pepper lets Tony babysit: she knows he will find someone more qualified to do it for him.
Of the time Tony got to spend with the kid, he didn't see what made it such a orgasmic relief for him to agree to watch Anthony for a few hours. This meant, on no uncertain terms, no alien invasions, zombie plagues, dinosaur attacks or terrorists bombings were allowed to happen until Anthony was safely returned to the Potts-Hogan family home and Pepper's arms, which seemed like the greatest amount of pressure in this whole exercise. He was just a baby, it wasn't like he was devising clever schemes to undermine his caregiver; he could barely lift his own head. Still, Pepper was quite clear that she needed 'a break' (which, to Tony, was a sign of the end times, because she didn't even take a coffee break at the office if someone didn't encourage her), and that Mrs. Hogan was 'otherwise engaged' (which she always seemed to be whenever there was forewarning that Tony would be present) and she promised it would mean a lot to her (which Tony wasn't particularly rich in, and could always use to his advantage).
Within seconds, he was learning that this was far more taxing than his few playdates had led him to believe. For one, car seats were revealed to be the most inefficient and devilish inventions ever inflicted on modern civilization, and Tony vowed to dedicate a lab to the production of a far more forgiving one. When it was agreed that he should just take their car for the day and they would use his (part of Pepper's plan, Tony suspected, to be able to have date night with the Bugatti), then Anthony had to be so thoroughly swaddled against the winter cold that Tony wasn't sure he could breath, which took about 40 minutes of Happy laughing at him and Pepper looking like she was reconsidering. Finally, he was introduced to the frankly embarrassing diaper bag, which Tony was sure could be a very sleek and chic black affair, and not this ridiculously lurid giraffe. How did a person even explain a giraffe to a child? It was probably the most bizarre creature to inflict on a baby's psyche. Why not a puppy? These and more important questions yet to be answered, they helped Tony strap Anthony in, wished him good luck, and sent him on his way.
Anthony immediately began to cry.
Tony's plotted course to his Manhattan condo was redrawn, and an overwhelmingly anxious, frequently stalled journey later, Tony was still trying to soothe the confused, homesick baby outside of Steve's bakery and loft. As if this wasn't challenging enough, diaper bag slung over his shoulder, thoroughly insulated child in his arms, Tony was stopped at the door.
"Toll, please," demanded the girl sitting on the stoop, holding out an expectant, mittened hand and completely unconcerned with the fussily murmuring baby. "Excuse me?" "You have to pay the toll," she clarified, impatiently, as if she were dealing with someone particularly stupid. "This is new," Tony noted, which didn't do much to get in the tollkeeper's good graces. "Toll, please," she said again, glaring now. Juggling Anthony and his eight extra pounds of clothes and the giraffe bag precariously, Tony managed to find a few coins in his pocket, which he bounced to jingle in his hand before tossing them in the slush next to the stoop. This was a terrifically new offense to the tollkeeper, but she took the bait and left her post to collect the change, allowing Tony to take advantage of the cleared passage.
Inside, the warmth and always inviting scent of baking bread was a great relief, and Tony relaxed his shoulders with a deep breath, even Anthony quieting for a moment at the curious smell permeating the air. To the guy behind the counter, Tony breathlessly asked, "Matt, right?" To which he received a clipped correction, "Michael," which he didn't really acknowledge. Instead, Tony continued, "Is he in?" which got him a nod with pursed lips.
An exhausting climb finally brought him to Steve's door, which he leaned against for a moment to get his breath before a glance at Anthony told him that he, too, had renewed his energy, and a powerful squall was dangerously incoming. Tony rapped a short knock of warning before letting himself in, and there he stood, a sorry, desperate sight, damp with melted snow, embarrassing bag on his shoulder and crying baby in his misguided care.