The Stark-Rogers residence was silent. The tall trees at the entrance swayed gently in the sea breeze, the sound of waves on sand came from nearby. The long driveway was quiet and dark, and everyone was sleeping.

Well, almost everyone.

Tony sat, half awake, in the nursery. His head nodded on his shoulder, but his eyes were open. The toddler that sat in his lap was dozing, his tiny hand squeezed tight around Tony's finger. Tony made no effort to free himself from the baby Peters grip, or to stand up. He was watching the child sleep, but his mind was in his workshop, with his suit. He mouthed the calculations he was doing in his head, tried his hardest to keep his sluggish, four am brain working.

"Hey."

Tony's head shot up. The voice, though no more than a whisper, echoed in the still night. Steve stood in the doorway, looking tired. His blonde hair was mussed with sleep; his white t-shirt was loosely tucked into his blue pajama pants.

"Didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, his voice still a whisper.

"You didn't." Tony sat up slightly, his voice cracking with sleep.

Steve walked sleepily to the recliner and crouched on his heels, his face level with the sleeping baby's. He smiled slightly. "Want me to take over?"

Tony yawned widely and slouched in the chair. "He's already asleep. Besides, I'm not tired."

Steve stood, and began to lift Peter from Tony's arms. The toddler stirred, but continued to sleep.

"Wait."

Tony reached up and, with some difficulty, removed the tiny hand from his finger. They were stuck together with webs, a common side effect of having a child with particular super spider powers. Steve handed him a wet wipe, specially designed with a chemical that could dissolve the adhesive in the web.

"Euuek." He muttered, balling up the used wipe and tossing it towards the trash. It missed. Tony sighed.

"Keep working on that." Steve teased with a chuckle, laying Peter in the designer circular crib at the center of the huge nursery.

"I am." Tony replied, getting to his feet. "Jarvis?"

Immediately, an expertly crafted robotic arm glided out of its hiding place in the wall, picked up the wipe with its claw, and lifted it to the garbage can. Then it slid back into the wall, leaving no evidence of its presence.

"Nice." Steve spared the contraption a glance, then went back to tucking Peter in. "You know I meant your aim, though."

Tony grinned, spreading his arms wide. "Who needs to aim when you're as good as me?"

"Right." Steve grunted, yawning. "Come on, I'm tired."

Tony groaned. "Carry me."

"That's what the elevator is for." Steve muttered.

Tony groaned again. "Jarvis, carry me."

The robotic voice of Jarvis, the system that ran the house, responded. "Would you like to install an elevator in the nursery, sir?"

"Yes."

"No." Steve held the door open, the two of them headed into the hall. "Tony, you don't need that."

"Why not?"

They boarded the elevator, not four feet from the door to the nursery.

Steve sighed, not sure if Tony was joking or not.

The ride took only a few seconds, they stepped out into the master bedroom. It was massive, with all the luxuries being a billionaire brings: A bar, hot tub, rooftop garden, huge TV, etc. The bed in the middle was equally impressive, although the sheets were currently messed up. Steve collapsed gratefully onto it; Tony climbed in and laid his head on the pillow with a sigh.

"Night." He muttered.

His only response was deep breathing, punctuated by a snore. Steve was fast asleep.

He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes.