tony stark. (knightish) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-11-25 12:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: francis barton (2), ₴ inactive: james rogers, ₴ inactive: pepper potts, ₴ inactive: tony stark |
WHO: Tony & Morgan (NPC) || Pepper, Francis (NPC), James, Francis || Tony & Pepper.
WHERE: Avengers Mansion.
WHEN: Friday, November 25, ‘22; evening through early a.m.
WHAT: The littles arrive.
RATING: Low.
STATUS: multi-log; COMPLETE.
It hadn't been difficult to find where this house was hiding the good snacks because they didn't even try to hide them. Half of the enormous freezer-only unit was junk that, in her own home, would have already caused Mommy to be cherry juice pop red at Uncle Rhodey or Happy or Peter or whoever had done it. Morgan didn't even need to use the chair she'd preemptively scooted over here in expectation of having to reach and dig – she was just on it to see what they had on the top shelves. Fortunately, when the faint sound behind her happened, she was holding on to one of the secure shelves inside the freezer to reach deeper, so she and the chair stayed upright. Slowly, oh so slowly, Morgan turned her head, and then her body, to face the man in the kitchen doorway. Tony Stark. But not Daddy. She stared at him, not blinking, and then squared off her five year old body like she was expecting the Authoritative Adult approach. "I'm getting a popsicle." She wasn't very loud, but her words were precise. "Mommy can't say no." It wasn't like he could disagree with that, she figured, since he was the one who told her she wouldn't be able to even call her Pepper Stark. This was one of those moments where all the planning in the world, every checklist known to man and alien, just wasn’t going to cut it. Pepper and Tony had talked about this moment many, many times since they’d first been introduced to their future daughter. How they would handle caring for a young girl who’d lost her father, was separated from her mother, and was now being faced with two adults she didn’t even know. There were plans, and discussions, and sure they would probably all still happen at some point. For now, though, Tony was just going to wing it. He smiled at her from where he stood near the doorway. There was a definitiveness in her voice as she practically challenged him to tell her no. He didn’t move closer just yet. He didn’t want to crowd her space or make her uncomfortable. He was watching that chair like a hawk, though. Should it even hint at wobbling underneath her feet, he’d be there. “Popsicles sound like a great idea,” he replied with a nod. “I was thinking about getting some ice cream myself. In case you wanted some of that instead.” Morgan's expression was the very picture of suspicion because she suddenly was suspicious of the approach. This was not a Very Responsible Adult way of responding to her being found half-in a freezer of dessert. "It's past bedtime." It had been from the bed she was supposed to be sleeping in that she had come in order to be in the kitchen, after all. They hadn't told her she had a bedtime, exactly, it was just where they had taken her after the weight of the whole day had knocked her on her butt. But it was definitely later than the bedtime she had as recently as last night when she was still home where she belonged, and he was old enough to know that kind of thing even if he wasn't a Tony Stark. But he was a Tony Stark. She might only be five years old, but she was a very smart five, so she had followed all the explanations that had been given to her. She was also a sheltered five with a default setting of cautiously trusting, so she didn't have a wealth of ideas, like Skulls impersonating people, at hand to assume all the worst about these people. Especially when they had a J.A.R.V.I.S. Morgan knew all about who had come before F.R.I.D.A.Y. and not just anyone could have Stark A.I. So, she decided, it was the "a" part she wanted to test. "I want a popsicle and ice cream. Please." Tony did his best to hide the smile that threatened to take over at her request. Especially with that please at the end. He tilted his head to the side as if he was mulling over everything. “I don’t know, you did say it’s past bedtime, after all.” He paused for a long moment before giving his counteroffer. “Ice cream and a popsicle, but the popsicle is sugar free.” It was all ridiculous, and Tony would 1000% give this little girl everything she wanted and more. He knew he couldn’t give her what she was really after, but he hoped that in time he and Pepper could slowly fill that void for her. Sugary treats didn't do too much to replace absentee parents, of that he was certain. However, it could go a long way toward starting to build some trust. If, when Mommy wasn't around, Morgan had asked the adults and young adults in her life for both ice cream and a popsicle, the responses would have varied from a blanket yes to a blanket no, with multiple variations between of ice cream only or popsicles only or negotiating for a different treat, including sugar free things. But an answer like ice cream AND sugar-free popsicles? Ice cream already had sugar so what kind of sense did sugar-free popsicles make? It was a Tony Stark kind of answer. A trying-to-get-away-with-something Tony Stark answer. Morgan flashed a quick, very small smile which turned into a sad lip twitch before settling as a less suspicious expression as she cycled quickly through the whirl of emotions experienced often in the last year. She was quiet for nearly thirty seconds, studying him. "Do you have strawberry ice cream?" she finally asked, the question having all the subtlety of a sledgehammer when it came to it being Important. Mommy was allergic to strawberries but was this Pepper Stark? Tony could see her sizing up his answer and her young mind weighing it all against her emotions. He didn’t say a word as she thought it through. He was happy to wait as long as she needed, for this and everything else that might come afterward. “Not right now, we don’t. Pepper gets an itchy throat if she eats anything with the strawberry flavor in it. We’ve got vanilla, peanut butter, and chocolate chip in the freezer.” He paused, then tilted his head to the side. “We do have fresh strawberries, though. How would you feel about a strawberry milkshake instead?” Morgan's mouth dropped fully open when he offered her a strawberry milkshake. That just wasn't something she had ever actually had because Daddy had made it pretty clear that Mommy's face would swell up if Morgan ate strawberries and kissed her face without brushing and rinsing it super well, so the fruit alone had been a rare treat. Morgan hadn't ever minded because she hadn't wanted to make Mommy sick because of her, so not having strawberry ice cream because it might hurt this Pepper Stark was just easily accepted by Morgan, no protestations or further questions asked right now. Especially not with a fresh strawberry milkshake on the horizon. "Really? I've never had one before," she said, sincere in her honesty. "We have goji berries for Mommy because she's allergic to real strawberries, but they don't taste like strawberries at all." She wrinkled her nose. "Gerald eats them fresh but they taste like tomatoes. They're better dry." It was the most she had said consecutively to anyone since arriving – and she wasn't quite done yet. "Gerald's an alpaca, not a person," she continued, then moved to get off the chair. She was letting all the cold out, after all. Tony’s heart felt extremely full as he listened to Morgan chatter away. He knew they were still a long way off from the day that she would consider them family, but just this small step in that direction helped ease some of the more bruised and battered portions of his soul. “Well, that all changes today, I think.” Tony finally moved more fully into the kitchen, though he kept his movements slow and easy. “And an alpaca, huh? Is he a pet? Or just a friend you visit?” Once Morgan had vacated the chair, Tony gave her a nod and lifted it by its back. He turned it so that it was now facing the island in the middle of the kitchen. “You can hop on up if you want to help.” From there he grabbed the blender, a carton of vanilla ice cream, a carton of sliced strawberries, and some milk. "He's ours when he's good and he's still Daddy's when he does something wrong." It was said matter-of-factly enough, but with that same whirl of emotions of before. Morgan didn't cry much about it anymore, not like she had in the months right after Daddy didn't come home when all the others did, but today it felt extra tender around her heart. With the chair resituated, Morgan climbed back up on it and rested her hands on the edge of the island, looking up at Tony. He was taller than Daddy and that was especially obvious with the taller-than-home chair and the inches she had grown in the last year in the mix, because neither of those things made her feel any taller next to this Tony Stark. "Mommy is," she paused, her brow knitted with a frown as she struggled between not wanting to acknowledge a past tense but knowing she should, then ignored the Should, "taller than Daddy. But you're the taller one here." There was a question within the observation, one she had been upset with earlier - that they didn't look like a Tony and Pepper Stark when measured against what she had known as real. This Tony had blue eyes and Daddy's were brown, like hers. This Pepper had darker red hair and Mommy's was much lighter red. She hadn't wanted to hear the explanations earlier, but now she wanted to know: why? “That sounds pretty logical to me. What kinds of things do alpacas do when they get in trouble?” Tony located the ice cream scoop (thankfully one of the kitchen appliances he had not felt the need to tinker with), and scooped out a mound of vanilla ice cream. He passed it over to Morgan so she could drop the ice cream into the blender. And if she happened to sneak a taste, he conveniently wouldn’t notice. He took care of adding the milk to the blender as he considered how to answer her question-but-not-a-question. “Your mom and dad- and you- are all unique. There are certain things about you that will always be just for you and the world you grew up in. Like your mom being taller.” Tony set aside the milk and scooped up some more ice cream to pass over to Morgan. “But, we’ve learned that there are a lot of different worlds out in the universe, and sometimes there may be another version of us out there that is unique to their world. Did you know that I’ve met three different Peter Parkers? And all of them are different from each other. But they all love science.” If the milkshake rocked her world, then the idea of three different Peters rocked her galaxy, because Morgan stared at this Tony Stark with open disbelief tinged with a growing delight. She wouldn't mind a whole baseball team of Peters as long as at least one of them was hers. She wondered if they all were Spider-Man too, but it made sense without asking that that would be true. This man was also Iron Man, after all. She had paused with the ice cream scoop over the blender when the Peter Revelation occurred, but she remembered what she was doing and dropped the ice cream into the blender. Just like last time, Morgan didn't sneak any licks, she just very seriously executed her duty of ice cream dropper. "How many Tony Starks have you met?" Her gaze was on the blender, rather than turned upward at the man beside her. Even in the dimmed-for-evening time lights of the kitchen, it was easy to see the spark in Morgan’s eyes as they spoke. It made Tony smile with relief to see it. As he accepted the scoop back from her, he dug out the biggest mound of ice cream yet and handed it back to her. “I’ve met two other Tony Starks before.” He truly wished that her father had been one of them, if only to be able to share that with her. He’d heard about him many times over from others during his time in Vallo, but he’d never met that man in person. “Maybe I’m biased, but I tend to like them.” As the final scoop of ice cream dropped down into the blender, Tony grabbed the tupperware container filled with sliced strawberries. He held it over to Morgan. “Grab a handful.” Morgan almost asked if one of them had been Daddy, but one of the first things the other Pepper Stark had said when trying to get Morgan to focus was that she had known Daddy and Mommy. This Tony Stark hadn't said the same at that time, so maybe that was because he hadn't, and Morgan didn't want to hear that said out loud right now. She steadied the container with one hand and then moved a fairly conservative amount of the strawberries into the blender. Then she paused, looked up at Tony, and promptly reached in to add a whole lot more. Rubbing her fingers against themselves after, she cocked her head slightly. "Does it need more?" Tony took some time to make an exaggerated survey of the blender, from multiple angles, before he declared that it was “The perfect amount.” He handed Morgan a small washcloth for her hands, then secured the blender’s lid into place. Whirring noises filled the kitchen and made conversation somewhat limited for a few minutes. But when it was all said and done, There were two strawberry milkshakes on the counter, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. Tony piled the dirty dishes in the sink to worry about later, then turned back to Morgan, who had climbed back down from her chair while he’d assembled everything for them. “Table? Or would you rather eat these somewhere else?” Even now, knowing that this man was a unique person separate from Daddy, Morgan still watched all his actions intently. She was seeking the smallest similarity in the smallest act, though she knew it probably wasn't something she should do. The therapist who was so kind to her had said always looking for Daddy in things and people would make her feel disappointment and hurt when she didn't find what she was looking for, but Morgan was pretty sure Chris had never encountered multiples of people. "Like where?" she questioned in answer, once the milkshakes were waiting. “I think, given the day we’ve all had, we can eat these anywhere we want. Your room, the family room to watch TV…” He wasn’t oblivious to the way she studied every single one of his movements. He suspected he knew why. It wasn’t exactly a difficult leap to assume she was mentally comparing him to the Tony Stark she knew. It was something that he was confident would fade with more time. Once the newness of this experience wore off and she was able to warm up to the idea of alternates, perhaps it would be easier for her to separate the two of them in her mind. Her room. Pepper and Tony said it was hers and she would be able to decorate it however she wanted, but the room had already seemed meant for child occupation. It was pretty obvious, because what adult had a collection of stuffies like that? The littler boy who had shown up today like she had had already had his own room here. That had been explained as copies of things being able to come here too, but he had clearly known the whole room – he seemed too smart to be fooled by familiar things distracting from an unfamiliar place. That had upset Morgan earlier, how he – Francis Barton, but not the Bartons that she knew – had recognized it all as his home. "Did a Morgan Stark have my room before me?" They were married and she had seen the way they interacted with each other today before they had split up her and Francis. That was a love like Mommy and Daddy. Did they have their own Morgan? Where was she? "Is she going to want her room back when she gets here?" It shouldn’t have been an unexpected question, but it still caught Tony a little off guard. In truth, the answer was complicated. The mansion had plenty of empty bedrooms for guests. This one though, had been set aside a year earlier after Morgan - this Morgan - had arrived to visit from the future. Those would be stories for another day, though. For now Tony shook his head no. “That room is just for you. Pepper and I, we just like to be prepared, so we have all kinds of things for just in case.” "That sounds like Mommy," Morgan said, tucking one leg around the other as she stood there, debating, before deciding to go with the rogue option. Desserts in her own room. Desserts in bed, even. "Okay, my room," she said, unhooked her leg, and then in the first show of actual security in her situation, Morgan headed right out of the kitchen – unlike the sneaking of earlier – to go back to her room. She didn't even look back to see if this Tony Stark was following her. She knew he would be. She was absolutely correct, and Always Being Prepared did seem to be a Universal Pepper trait. As Morgan ultimately decided she wanted milkshakes in bed, Tony couldn’t help but smile. The shift in her body language from tentative and prodding to more confident and trusting was exactly what he’d been hoping for. Without missing a beat he replied with an “Excellent choice,” before following her out of the room. Upstairs, he helped her settle back into her bed with her very first strawberry milkshake. Then he pulled up a chair beside her to dig into his own. He couldn’t help but think that strawberry milkshakes might have just become his new favorite dessert. |
Trying not to laugh out loud and blatantly give herself away, Pepper eased herself along the back of one of the couches in the family room – well, the floor behind one of the couches, since she was army crawling. From that underside-of-couch view, she could make out the floor behind the nearest chair and the tiny sneaker just peeking out from a back leg of that chair. Another foot or so and she'd have him right in her sights. The next eighteen inches were made slowly and she pretended not to hear the muffled giggling since she'd already found him. This room was not built for any sort of real war games, but with a quick, successive deployment of three foam projectiles under both the couch and the chair, Pepper proved it was still very much built for Nerf war games. The toddler that was Francis Barton shrieked with laughter as the soft darts bounced off of him. He ran out from behind his chair, then dropped to the ground theatrically. He rolled around a bit for good measure, his blond hair picking up static from the rug as he did so. “You got me.” He popped his head back up and scooted over to where Pepper was by the edge of the couch. “That was fun!” With a grab and a roll, Pepper was on her back with a squirming toddler in her arms, and it was the most indescribably precious, beautiful, painful gift to be able to have him there. She and Tony had prepared as much as they could for the likelihood of having and the possibility of not, but the reality of it all was so much more intense. This was Francis as he had been, right before everything went so horribly wrong, in her still recent-ish memories of her life before her death. If she closed her eyes, it was even easier now to imagine they existed in a moment before Clint or Bobbi would speak, that this house was exponentially more occupied. It was a dangerous thing, that ease. It was completely true that neither of his parents were here in Vallo right now. It was unquestionably true that they would be here if they could be. For Francis, his new reality here would be shaped by the idea that Mommy and Daddy were away, and it would hold that shape from now until the day he could understand more and learn more, including the most devastating of complete truths held by his aunt and uncle and the young adults who had grown from the babies he knew yesterday. But they had time before those days and that, too, was a dangerous thing. It was a danger that Pepper embraced as she blew a raspberry against Francis' cheek and then righted him so he could sit on her stomach. "What's next, sweetheart? More Nerf? Or do you want something else?" She would try to give him the moon on a string right now if he asked, but that was nothing new – not since the day he was born. Francis wobbled slightly as he sat on her stomach, but he righted himself with reflexes that were perhaps a bit too quick for an ordinary toddler. Hands that were still slightly chubby with baby fat reached out and took a hold of her fingers. She was warm and comforting, and if he couldn’t be with his parents, Francis would always choose to be with Pepper. “Story.” Hand still gripped around her fingers, he raised her arm up and blew a return raspberry on her arm. Pepper watched Francis without stopping him and rewarded the quick-thinking retaliation with a bright laugh. She wanted a way to be able to save every second of this and give it to Bobbi and Clint so they missed nothing. Was this how Tony had felt so many times, but without the hope that some greater power would one day deliver some or all of them? If she hadn't had Francis sitting right there looking at her, Pepper would have had nothing to counterweight the stabbing pain that came with the thought. And if Francis hadn't been sitting right on her, and she and Tony hadn't decided on a conquer and divide approach to winding down the kids separately before settling them in the same space for the night, Pepper would have already been on her way to her husband. Pulling herself away from that dark, sad, painful place, she grinned at Francis. "What kind of story? A book story?" She wiggled her fingers. "A made-up story?" Children could often be more observant than adults fully gave them credit for, and Francis didn’t miss the flashes of emotion that passed over Pepper’s face in those moments. In response, he crawled forward and nestled his blonde hair securely under her chin. His arms wrapped around her in a hug. “Made-up.” Pepper wrapped her arms around Francis and held him close without outright squishing him against her chest. The rig wasn't exactly soft and cushioned, after all, which was why she moved to sit up. She didn't stop holding him to her in doing it, just removed a little potential discomfort due to gravity. He'd asked for a story, but she just held him for a time. I swear we're going to do better than our best for him, she offered up silently and willed it out as far as it would go into the multiverse, as much a wish as it was a vow, until you can again, I promise. After clearing her throat, Pepper focused on the task at hand - a made-up story. Translating Avenger exploits into something more like sci-fi and fantasy stories were Tony's purview, tested and honed out of necessity, and it felt a little too raw right now to do it herself, so she veered toward something more fairy tale. "All right, a made-up story," she said, getting to her feet with him in her arms. "Once upon a time there was a little bird that lived in a big forest and his name was… Francis." As Pepper shifted from lying down to sitting up, Francis’ little arms moved to wrap securely around her neck. There had been many a time when the fearless toddler had launched himself from the arms of adults just to see what would happen. Today, however, he was perfectly content to stay close to Pepper. He didn’t want to miss the story after all. As she began, he plucked his right thumb into his mouth and settled in. Though it was almost immediately removed when he shouted “That's my name!” Pepper looked at Francis with comically wide eyes of surprise before grinning like it was a discovery. "You're right, it is! I wonder if you'll have anything else in common with the little bird." With him securely holding on and Pepper easily able to carry him all over the house without issue, she slowly moved out of the family room at a casual, unhurried pace, because there was no real destination. "Francis, the little bird, needed to make a new nest for himself because he was growing bigger every year. He was always excited for a new nest and was always very proud of himself when he was done with his nest. When he started a new nest, he always did it atop his old nest, because the old twigs were still sturdy and made a better and better base each time. By now, Francis the bird was very good at shaping the new twigs, so he did so quickly, because he was eager to get to the part where he would make his nest warm and soft." Pepper paused and hummed questioningly. "I don't think a big blanket would fit a little bird's nest. I wonder what smaller things he'll need to find to make it soft and warm." Francis grinned mischievously before that thumb found its way back into his mouth. His very bright and interested gaze made it clear that he was going to be searching for anything else Bird-Francis might have the same as him. As Pepper posed her question, he thought about it. He never was one to sit back and listen to a story when he could participate. “Leaves?” Pepper nodded decisively, tempering the urge to grin, and started looking around like she was very, very interested in finding something. "Leaves would be very good to line a nest with and keep out the cold that could get in between the gaps in the twigs. Francis the little bird only wanted to have the wind ruffle his feathers when he chose, so picking the very best leaves was very important. The forest he lived in was colorful, with leaves in every shade of the rainbow, so Francis set out to find the best of the yellow leaves, because that was his favorite color." Francis’ eyes lit up again and he giggled around the thumb in his mouth. Yellow was his favorite color too. He wriggled with delight and impatience to hear more of the story. Out came the thumb once more. “Did Bird Francis find them?” "He did," Pepper confirmed, moving over to the closet she had been working her way toward. "The yellow leaves were so bright, but they were still hard to find, so Francis the little bird spent some time getting just the right ones." She had pulled open the door as she continued, stepping inside the closet, and then stretched to rummage in a basket. Soft cloth touched her fingertips and she pulled, at which point a satin-like square of yellow slithered down and onto the top of Francis' head. Somewhere in the multiverse, she was sure Steve was feeling smug that the stupid magician's kit Pepper had scoffed at actually found a new use. His curiosity was split then, between watching Pepper’s face and trying to see what exactly she was reaching for. He had time to widen his eyes at the flash of yellow before it flustered down onto his head. More giggling emerged from beneath it before his free hand grabbed at it and pulled. “That’s not leaves!” Pepper chuckled quietly and then turned her head to rub her nose against his cheek. It was affection freely and wholly given, but it was also for herself as well, the need to give him every sign of love to try and soften the blow of Clint and Bobbi not being here. "And you're not a bird, Francis the little bird is a bird. Do you want to go outside and sleep in a bird nest?" He didn’t hesitate to nuzzle against her. A happy child still far removed from the war that would one day redefine his life, he was all too happy to give and receive affection. “Noooo.” He shook his head resolutely. "That's what I thought," Pepper said and kissed the side of his head before continuing. "So Francis the little bird found his yellow leaves and was happy, and the brightness of the yellow made him want to seek out other colors of leaves. What other colors do you think would be good in a nest?" Francis kept the yellow scarf clutched in his fist protectively as Pepper continued with the story. It was slippery and cool, and he liked the feel of it. When she asked him for more colors, his eyes roamed around the room for inspiration. “Red,” he answered after spotting the burgundy colored sofa. “And green!” That was the potted plant in the corner. One by one, more of the magic kit scarves rained down on Francis and Pepper, settling into the space just above where she held him to her, until Pepper declared that the bird Francis had lined his nest well with leaves. "But Francis wanted to be cozy in his nest, not just dry and warm, and so he went out to search for soft things that would fit into his nest. For a bird, it was a big nest, but to a human, it was still small, so Francis gathered fluffy buds from plants and soft fur from animals that had snagged on bushes and even threads from abandoned human clothing." At that point, Pepper had already grabbed a cardigan she had left over a chair, and a blanket that had been folded up next to the basket of bright scarves. "Good thing I found this," she said, lightly shaking the cardigan, "or it might have been next!" Francis reached out his little hands for the cardigan, then pulled it in against his chest. Obviously he wanted Bird Francis to have a warm nest, but not with Pepper’s things. He rested his chin on top of the bunched up sweater and looked up at her with wide eyes. “What did he do then?” Oh, those eyes. With a smile, Pepper dipped her head to kiss Francis' nose to curb the urge to snuggle him too hard. "Well," she said, making her way back into the hallway, "now that Francis the little bird had a warm, soft, dry nest, he flew a little higher to sit on a branch and look down at his work, then hopped to several different branches," she lightly bounced him like she had hopped, "to see it from every angle he-" Pepper paused mid-story with mild surprise when James appeared from around the corner, took one long look at her and Francis, and then made a subtle gesture that looked very much like he was warning off someone in the other hallway that he had just come from. Still holding onto the cardigan and the scarves, Francis laughed as he bounced lightly in Pepper’s arms. When she stopped, he whipped his head around in the direction she was looking. He stared at the newcomer with curiosity. He wasn’t wary of strangers, especially not when he was with Pepper. “Who are you?” Honestly, James had figured the coast would be clear for him and Francis at this point. The tiny newcomers were, well, little, so that meant bedtimes, right? Especially after a day that involved arriving in Vallo, not having their actual parents, and all the other crazy stuff that came with being in and knowing about this place. James slanted a glance back down the hallway toward Francis, as if he could fully communicate This Is Somehow Your Fault with a look, then gave his attention to Francis. The smaller one. "Hey, I'm," there was the tiniest pause in the form of, "uh," before he decided to just be honest. "James." The elder Francis that had been abruptly stopped in the hallway made a rude gesture back at James before he leaned against the wall to eavesdrop. In the other room, tiny Francis stared at James with a confused expression. The only James he knew was a baby. He hugged the cardigan closer. “I’m Francis.” James smiled, trying for friendly and reassuring as he shrugged a shoulder to adjust the shield, and nodded. "Yeah, I know. D-" James caught himself almost immediately, getting out ahead of any warning look from Pepper. "Tony and Pepper are pretty excited to have you here, so we've all heard about it." He dropped his gaze to the scarves caught between Francis and Pepper and grinned, this one genuine. "Are you guys off to do magic?" Ignoring the question completely, Francis became fixated on the shield the moment he noticed it. His little face scrunched up in a remarkable impression of his mother when she was pissed off. “That’s not yours!” Well shit. This time James flashed a look at older Francis that definitely said THIS IS ACTUALLY YOUR FAULT in the few second span that James had to decide how to deal with the accusation. The younger Francis wasn't wrong; it would always be his dad's shield, even if it was in James' possession for a lifetime. Pepper cleared her throat, looking to intervene for a number of reasons, chief among them being Francis getting upset and James feeling uncomfortable. "Francis, James is allowed to have the shield." James shook his head, while at the same time angling his shoulders just a bit to make sure the cracks weren't in sight line. "It's cool, Pepper." He looked at the younger Francis directly. "You're right. It's not mine. But Steve knows I have it. He wanted me to keep it." James wouldn't call himself Captain America to justify it because he would never be Captain America. But it was the honest truth that his dad, the Steve that Francis knew, wanted him to have it. Hidden behind the wall, Francis had to stifle a snort of laughter. He shrugged his shoulders and gave James a grin that clearly said Good lucky, Buddy. Pepper stepping in did manage to cool the younger Francis down a bit. He looked at her, then back to James again, all the while his mind doing its best to process this new information. He didn’t really understand why Steve would want someone else to have his shield unless- “Are you an Avenger?” James waited with breath not-quite-held to see how that would land, because he didn't really want to lie and then look untrustworthy later when the truth came out, but he also didn't want to break the younger Francis' brain with the Multiple Points In Time issue when, for Francis, some people were nearish to the same age as he'd expect. Francis' eventual question was a much easier title to admit to, because James had earned the designation in his own right, even the times when everyone wasn't organizing themselves officially as Avengers. "Yeah, I am," he said, though that wasn't all that easy to prove beyond the shield, unless this kid would trust the A.I. Francis studied James for a long moment, then looked back at Pepper for confirmation. Pepper wouldn’t lie to him, so if she said it was okay, then he’d believe it. The movement of someone just out of sight down the other hallway hadn't been lost on Pepper and her excellent hearing, but other than a few glances from James, there wasn't any obvious attention drawn to that fact where her young charge was concerned, so Pepper continued to behave as if no one was there. Meeting older versions of one's self could wait until tomorrow, especially when said older version had already finished in the room he was so generously sharing with himself in miniature. That had made tonight easier, as she could put Francis in his own bed – which was their very excellent next stop now, before he grew too curious about the unfamiliar Avengers. "He is, and I bet we're keeping him from Avengers business, so onward we go," she said, squeezing Francis playfully. She smiled at James and stepped away, but this time over to another closet instead of immediately toward Francis' room. That way James and Francis could continue on wherever they were going without having to slink around like agents on a mission. After opening the closet door, she raised her hand as if to brush back her hair, but used the ruse to wave a goodnight to both James and Francis behind her. She slipped into this closet and immediately reached for distraction in the form of a feather duster still in its package. "What do you say to making your own nest, little bird?" she asked Francis. "The best nest that's ever been made." As Pepper turned, James gave Francis an affirmative head nod, and the elder Barton straightened up to resume their previous route. He grinned at Pepper’s backward wave, but didn’t say anything that might draw the attention of his toddler self. The boys slipped from the room as the younger Francis grabbed for the feather duster to add to the growing collection of items in his arms. He looked at everything, decided they had a good start for items to build a nest and nodded his head with determination. “Let’s go!” |
Unsurprisingly, Pepper had fallen asleep next to Francis and the nest they'd assembled while waiting for Francis to fall into a deep enough sleep to slip away. She wasn't surprised that she hadn't been woken up to come to her own bed, figuring one of two possibilities – Tony had taken one look at her and Francis and refused to disturb her, or Tony had mirrored her fate by falling asleep in a chair while trying to settle Morgan. After checking that the (of course Stark made) monitors were working fine and she'd hear Francis if he so much as breathed too hard, she slipped out of the room, closed the door, and pulled out her phone. After confirming via other monitors that Morgan was asleep and her husband wasn't sleeping in a chair in a way that would be a literal pain in the neck until she rescued him, she made her way across the hallway and into their bedroom. There he was, casually sprawled on the bed, but also wide awake. "So you did make it. You could have woken me up," she said, closing the door behind her. Shoes were kicked to the side as she moved across the bedroom and then Pepper launched herself into the bed on her stomach. A few army crawl wiggles and she was nose to nose with Tony. "Hi," she greeted him again, then kissed him. It would have been a longer kiss, but- "You taste like milk and strawberries, " she said as she pulled back, one eyebrow raising. It wasn't the tell-tale sickly taste of artificial strawberries (he'd never be so careless as to either not warn her or not rinse his mouth), it was the lingering tartness of the fresh strawberries that she enjoyed just fine, so she knew it wasn't strawberry milk or strawberry ice cream, which meant he'd been off making something with strawberries and a dairy product. So it wasn't an Eyebrow Raise of alarm, but question, a what were you up to question. Honestly, Tony wasn’t sure he could sleep after the day they’d had. Yes, it was exhausting on physical, mental, and emotional levels, but that only served to fuel his brain even more. It cycled from thought to thought, what they could do to help the kids settle here, ways he could improve the house to better suit them, conversations that would eventually need to be had with both of them. It was one thing after another until he heard the click of the door and there was Pepper. Some of the worry lines creasing his face faded away and he smiled as she approached. “And disturb you two cuddled up together? Not on your life.” He returned her kiss and moved to slip an arm around her waist when she pulled back to look at him. “Morgan and I made milkshakes.” He at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed of himself for giving her such a sweet dessert before bedtime. “She’d never had a strawberry one before.” Pepper folded her arms atop his chest to rest her chin on without giving him much of a judging look – especially when he continued. "It wouldn't have occurred to me that she wouldn't have had strawberries herself. I know Pepper's allergic, but Tony would take Morgan to get them." Pepper wouldn't talk about that Tony in past tense because she had known him in a present tense and his eventual death hadn't occurred in front of her (other than on a screen) like their friends' deaths had. But the observation did make her think of something else that she hadn't been able to ask of their grown children or most of the Avengers here from that world, because they either didn't remember, didn't know, or hadn't been in existence during Morgan's lifetime until the Snap was undone. "I wonder how much Morgan actually left the lake with anyone in those Snap years." How sheltered had she been, even while no doubt being provided with the absolute best of everything that Pepper and Tony could think or dream of? She suddenly frowned, something not considered that she really should have considered in prep work since last year. "Do you think we need to build a pond?" They didn't have much in the way of yard, given the Mansion was the size of an actual city block, but that was in no way a problem for someone willing to buy the next property over and turn the whole thing into whatever they wanted. A yard with a pond. A yard with a big pond and playground and space. A park. She paused, and blinked. "I did the thing again." The Stark thing. The 'imagine a grand solution to something that might not need more than a tiny solution' thing. Pepper Potts would have, once upon a time, suggested a fountain with some koi fish. Pepper Stark was halfway to city planning a park. "You're a terrible influence." He enjoyed watching her think. Sometimes he was certain he could see the thoughts actually forming in her mind. He stayed quiet, letting her ponder out loud about strawberry milkshakes and water features until she finally seemed to catch up with herself. He couldn’t help but grin. “A pond might not be a bad idea.” His tone was half teasing, but only half. “We’ll probably need extra space for the alpaca anyway.” "Oh god, the alpaca," Pepper groaned, pressing her forehead down into her arms. She addressed his torso, voice muffled. "I should have made them tell me so I could mentally prepare." To be clear, Pepper did not have a single problem with alpacas. They were very adorable and sweet-looking and seemed like they made excellent farm pets. What she was futilely objecting to was the inevitability of alpacas inside her house. Someone would sneak one in here. They would probably be aided by the very man she now lifted her head to look at again. "I'm not wrangling alpacas in my own home, Anthony." He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as she buried her face in her arms. He brought a hand up to run itself through her hair. “I would never ask you to wrangle them, love of my life.” Most of her put-out energy dissipated at that, as there wasn't much to begin with. It wasn't the claim of never that got her, it was the endearment. She was still a sucker for it after all this time. Pepper sighed the sigh of the long-suffering as she tipped her head toward his fingers, then returned her chin to her arms. "We're not starting a farm next to the house," she said seriously. "Alpacas aren't going to lead to donkeys and sheep and horses, and a pond isn't going to lead to us deliberately getting ducks and geese and chickens that could turn on us at any moment." “Okay, okay.” He raised his head to press a kiss against her forehead. “No farms, I promise.” He dropped his head back against the pillow and stared upward for a moment. His hand gently rubbed Pepper’s back as they lay there together. “They’re finally here. I’m still not sure I’ve fully processed it.” Pepper shook her head slightly, a negation that was simultaneously agreement. He wasn't the only one who hadn't processed it yet. "Them being here makes the future feel much more stable." For the first couple of years after dying and arriving in Hawaii, Pepper had lived her life without planning too far into the future – no five year plans or anything of the kind. It was enough to have each extra day to live fully. But time wore on and Vallo happened and slowly she had looked further and further toward the future, in building her own business, in marrying Tony with the intent for a life together, in building a new business together, but the kids from the future had been a look far more forward than she would have allowed herself in a place that could change the population at any second. Twice now, though, they had been granted time with the kids, and so they had planned for that future and everything needed. Everything except acceptance. "And that makes me feel like I can't quite catch my breath yet." Stability was good. Stability made it easier to breathe despite the near constant pit in his stomach. The kids were here and there was a future together stretched out in front of all of them. Thankfully he had a few years of parenting under his belt already, so the thought wasn’t as terrifying as it once might have been, but it still wasn’t something he intended to take lightly. “Given how our day has gone, I can understand that feeling.” Speaking of their day - more specifically, the parts of the day they had been separated for while dealing one to one with the kids – "How did things go on your end, Milkshake Man?" Pepper's gaze was interested but soft, and she drummed the fingertips of one hand against his chest as she used a moniker born of amusement. “I think we made some progress. Baby steps, really, but honestly way more than I could have hoped for. She helped me make the milkshakes and we talked. She’s so smart, Pep. I mean, I knew she was, but the things that kid can pick up on…” It was only the weight of the subject that kept Pepper from snorting outright when Tony declared that Morgan was so smart. Genius might not be definitely hereditary, but Morgan's father was Tony Stark and the Pepper who became Morgan's mother was an extremely intelligent person. It was pretty much assured in Pepper's mind. "Things like?" she prodded, wanting to hear more about this new charge who would one day call them Mom and Dad. “We talked a little bit about alternate universes…and don’t give me a look, I kept it simplified. But the questions she asked, and the way she took the time to think about things. She’s got an incredible mind.” To her credit, Pepper hadn't really deployed the sort of Look that Tony objected to, because her face was a little busy giving him a distinctly sappy look to pair with the way her heart was feeling distinctly full right now. He was clearly already smitten with their new charge, just as he had been when Torunn had joined their lives, and Pepper would never grow tired of seeing it happen. She deeply loved the way this man threw his whole heart into loving their kids, especially because all of their kids came with claims by other people (whether those people were here or not). Whether he would ever believe it or not when she said it, he had always been the right choice to raise the kids when she and the others had died. Without comment, Pepper lifted her chin and kissed Tony with all the emotion from that very full heart. Initially, Tony’s mind had started turning in different directions again, thinking of all the ways to challenge Morgan’s mind and help her grow. He’d been about to say something else when Pepper caught his attention with that kiss. He returned it, and raised a hand up to her cheek. They had a lot of history together, both wonderful and painful, and now with the kids here, he was more certain than ever that they’d have an even longer future together. |