There is so much crack. Probably a little OOC too. I'm trying out a new writing style that involves a lot of parentheses, so I'm very sorry if they annoy you. Please enjoy and don't forget to leave a review telling me what you think!

Apparently when Tony gets drunk, he gets very… happy.

Okay, so Tony isn't exactly drunk, per say. More like slightly high. A little… temporarily insane, if you will.

It wasn't Steve's fault. He swears on it. It was actually all Clint's fault. It was Clint who forgot to tell Stark about the new poison he was trying out on his arrows (but, Clint interjects, in his defense, he wasn't aware that Stark was going to go around poking himself with them). Steve supposes that they got off lucky, considering a high Tony leaves then in an admittedly much better situation than a very dead Tony, but of course the rest of the team doesn't have to patience to deal with Tony's needs and Pepper's in DC for business, so that just leaves Steve.

"Steeeeeeve!" Tony crows excitedly, waving his arms legs about in a tangle of limbs as he attempts to extricate himself from the plump armchair he had previously occupied (he obviously doesn't do a very good job; he ends up in a heap on the carpet). "Come play with me!"

Steve rubs the back of his neck. Tony looks like an overexcited puppy, eyes wide and slightly gazed, panting with his tongue hanging out slightly.

"Come onnnnnn," Tony staggers over to a decidedly very uncomfortable Steve, latching onto his arm with some sort of octopus grip that Steve can't seem to shake off (even with the super-strength). "You're so boring, Steve. And old. But you don't look old. You're hair isn't white. It's nice and blonde. Like a tiger." Tony giggles at his own cleverness (or lack thereof). "Geddit?"

"Tony, tigers aren't blonde," Steve corrects gently, prying at Tony's death grip on his arm with his fingers. "Maybe you were thinking of lions."

Tony looks momentarily confused and seems to consider this for a moment, staring at the ceiling with a finger on his chin. "Hm… No. I think tigers are blonde." He shakes his head and pokes Steve in the chest. His eyes go wide. "Whoa." He pokes Steve again. "Your chest is harrrrdddd. Like a rock. Like, like," Tony's eyes dart around as he searches for a word. "Like a lollipop," he says with conviction.

(Like a lollipop?)

"Uhm. Sure. Yes. Like a lollipop," Steve says. "Do you, uh, want a lollipop, Tony?"

Tony's face lights up spectacularly and he's smiling so hard Steve is a little concerned that his face might split in half (and that would be very troublesome because how the hell would he be able to explain that to Pepper?). "Yeah!" He nods vigorously, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth again. "I want a lollipop!"

This poison, apparently, has reduced Tony to the maturity of a two year old.

"Okay." Steve musters up his very best "dad" voice and looks at Tony very carefully. "Listen to me, um, young man."

Tony makes a "hm" sound. Steve fights back the overwhelming urge to laugh hysterically (because god damn it of course the only time Tony would ever agree to any of his orders was when he was completely high). He coughs instead, which turns into a grunt because he realizes Tony probably won't appreciate having his face coughed on. He clears his throat. "I'm going to get you a lollipop," he says firmly, "but you have to let go of my arm first, so that I can go upstairs."

Tony looks utterly devastated. "But-"

"No buts." God, this is so bizarre. Is this what having a kid is like (if the kid is 40 years old and has a moustache and the uncanny ability to cling onto your arm and never let go)? "Okay, Tony?"

"You said 'butt'", Tony giggles.

(So his sense of humor hasn't changed much.) "Tony."

Tony seems to struggle with himself for a minute. He looks at Steve's arm, then Steve's face, then back at Steve's arm, then Steve's face again. Finally, he pouts and detaches his hand from Steve's arm, folding them in front of his chest and promptly dropping himself onto the floor, looking defeated. "Fine. Have it your way, meanie."

Rubbing his arm (he can see the finger marks), Steve smiles at Tony. "Thank you." Tony looks at him expectantly, as if expecting more. "Uh…" What do adults usually do? "Good boy?" Steve awkwardly ruffles Tony's hair and Tony grins lopsidedly, satisfied.

The stairs in the living room are a short distance away and Steve watches Tony wearily in the corner of his eye as he shuffles towards his destination. Tony, luckily, seems to be completely taken by the sighting of a beetle on the floor and doesn't look to be concocting an evil plan to set the tower on fire (which, according to a very irate Bruce, was a common occurrence before Steve moved in), so Steve lets out a breath of relief and bounds up the stairs, closing the door behind him.

"How's it going, Cap?" Clint sits at the bar in the next room, slurping loudly from a can of cheap beer (Clint seems to prefer cheap beer over the fancy stuff Tony has, which is perfectly acceptable, Clint adds, affronted). "He doing any better?"

Steve makes a noise that sounds vaguely like "Gnughfl" and Clint laughs. "That bad, huh?"

"He wants me to get him a lollipop," Steve says helplessly, opening one of the kitchen counters (and then closing it rapidly because he has happened upon Thor's secret stash of hams and no one touches Thor's hams). "Do we even have lollipops?"

Clint barely looks up from his drink. "Second cabinet from the left."

Steve doesn't know how Clint knows this information, since he has never seen Clint with a lollipop before (then again, Clint and Natasha both seem to know everything about everything, much to everyone else's annoyance), but doesn't question it. Upon searching, the second cabinet from the left does, indeed, contain a supply of lollipops. Steve grabs a big green one with blue swirls and runs past Clint and down the stairs, praying to the good Lord that Tony has not managed to figure out how to turn his pillow into a stink bomb or something typically Tony-ish.

No, Steve decides as he stops dead at the foot of the stairs, this is much worse.

Tony has managed trap a swarm of beetles (there has to be five, at least) and has built a wall around them the glass panels from the table. "Look!" He points excitedly at his masterpiece. "I made a farm!"

Steve may or may not be about ready to faint (beetles are the devil's spawn, he doesn't care how much Natasha makes fun of him).

"Isn't it great, Steve?" Tony stares at Steve's horrified expression and his mouth curves downward in a frown. "You don't like it."

Now Tony's eyes have gotten all big and sad with the little frown on his face and damn it Steve was the one with the puppy dog expression, not Tony, and who gave Tony the right to steal what was rightfully Steve's? "No, no no," Steve gets down on one knee and pats a sniffling Tony reassuringly on the back. "No, I love it."

"Really?" Tony looks unbelievably pathetic, a grown man sitting on the floor looking rumpled and sad. "You mean it?"

"Yes. Of course." Steve is a terrible liar. Why did he agree to this? Why couldn't he have gotten Bruce to babysit? "It's… wonderful. Beautiful."

"Yay!" Tony is instantly happy again. "Hey, you brought the lollipop!"

Steve holds out the green pop, casually sweeping the beetle fortress aside with his foot in an attempt to keep Tony from noticing. "I did."

Tony takes the lollipop in his hand and frowns. He picks at the wrapper with a finger and then sniffs it, his frown deepening. Steve is slightly worried. "Is everything okay there?"

Ignoring him, Tony carefully peels off the wrapping and licks a stripe down the side of his candy, his forehead scrunching up as he examines the flavor. "You got the blueberry flavored one," he says after a moment, his voice controlled. "I don't like blueberry."

(Oh, crap.) "Oh. What – what do you like then?"

"Strawberry." Voice carefully controlled, again.

"Oh." (There had been no red or pink colored lollipops in the cabinet, only green and purple.) "I'm sorry, Tony, but we don't have any strawberry flavored ones."

Tony's face is slowly turning an unattractive shade of puce.

(Should I run?) "Sorry?"

"I. Wanted. STRAWBERRY!"

Clint is very happily working his way through one of Thor's hams when he hears the Captain let out a very girlish (It was very manly, Clint, very manly, Steve insists) scream and there's the pounding sound of footsteps on the stairs. Smiling wickedly, he takes another drink of his beer and cuts off another piece of ham to stuff into his mouth, waiting for the daily dose of quality entertainment that is sure to be following.

Steve comes barreling in the door, dragging a kicking and screaming Tony – who has managed to latch onto Steve's arm, Clint observes with amusement – behind him. "Help!" he squeaks, his hair mussed and eyes desperate. "Help!"

"What seems to be the problem?" Clint inquires serenely.

"Well – ow Tony damnit! – I got Tony the wrong flavor of lollipop – OW! – and he's throwing a fit!" Steve looks distinctly terrified. "What do I do?"

Clint resists the urge to chuckle. (This is pure gold. He should really get this on camera.) "Well," he drawls, stuffing another piece of ham in his mouth, "you could always try getting him the correct flavor."

"There's no more!" Steve seems close to tears now. "Help me, Clint! How do I make him stop?"

"Use your 'dad' voice. That always whips everyone into shape."

"I tried!"

"Hm."

"He's going to rip my arm off!"

"Nonsense," Clint says, waving his hand dismissively. "You're a super-soldier, Cap. Surely you can handle Tony." He looks up at Steve, who looks very frazzled and is shooting him a disbelieving look. "Okay, that might be a stretch."

Tony lets out a shriek ("I WANT STRAWBERRY NOW!") and launches himself at the table, toppling Clint's (okay, so technically it's Thor's, but who's keeping track, really) ham off the table. "Hey!" Clint says indignantly, "that was my ham you little shit!"

"LOLLIPOP!" Tony screams, pounding his fists on the table. Clint winces as spittle flies into his face. "NOW!"

Steve, looking extremely relieved by the fact that Tony has finally let go of him, casts a furtive look at Clint before running out of the room, calling "he's your problem now, Barton!"

Clint lets out a very loud groan.

Tony latches on immediately to the archer's arm and Clint nearly falls out of his seat, his beer spilling all over his lap. "Ah hell! Not my beer too!" Eyes narrowing, he glares at the screaming man. "You are so going to get it, Stark."

Bruce chooses this moment (where the hell had he been? It's about time!) to burst in to the room, greeted by the extremely pleasant sight of Clint and Tony wrestling on the floor.

"I've got the antidote!" he announces, holding up a syringe and looking proud of himself. Clint kind of wants to punch him in the face.

"Hurry up and use it then!"

The doctor stabs the syringe into Tony's arm and he goes slack, eyes rolling up comically before being scooped up by Bruce. Clint stays on the floor, lying down with his eyes closed. Bruce peers down at him. "You alright there Clint?"

There is a stray piece of ham by the corner of Clint's mouth and he licks it. "Yup. I'm awesome."

Hours later, Steve is making himself a nice, strong cup of coffee after enjoying a long shower when Tony comes stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his head and murmuring expletives quietly under his breath. When he catches sight of Steve, he freezes.

"Uh," Steve says eloquently.

Tony takes a few steps forward and looks at Steve with all the intimidation he can manage. "We will never, speak of what happened again, you hear me? Never," he hisses.

Steve nods (he's actually planning on erasing these last few hours from his memory altogether) and Tony stares at him for a moment before stumbling off again, heading presumably for the bathroom.

Three days later, per Clint's request, JARVIS posts the surveillance video of Tony's temper tantrum on YouTube. It receives over a million views in a little less than a day.

(Tony declares loudly that same day that he is never touching Clint's goddamn arrows again, so help me god and Thor is refusing to speak to Clint at all because of the unfortunate demise of one of his prized hams, though Clint vehemently insists that the whole thing was entirely Tony's fault and Natasha is looking at the both of them and calling them complete morons and Bruce is sipping is tea, reading the paper and quietly observing the unfolding scene.)

Steve smiles.

Life at the Avenger's Tower has never been better.