Tony wasn't happy. He hadn't got a good night's sleep and was extremely exhausted. Part of it was the work load that got thrown on his plate over the last few weeks. Although he got a lot of help from Natasha, the legal work was piling up and there was nothing—well—to avenge.

Is this all I am now? A glorified legal consultant?

He sat on his bed, shuffling through endless papers, and finally, he stuffed them into a folder.

I'll think about all this tomorrow.

Flopping back onto the plush pillows, he rolled over and closed his eyes. It was cold. Habitually, he reached out, expecting to feel Pepper's warm body next to him, but immediately pulled it back remembering she wasn't there. He missed Pepper. A lot. Some of his favorite moments took place in their bed. No, not necessarily sex (even though that was pretty terrific.) He missed cuddling with her, watching her chest rise and fall as she slept, listening to the little grunts she made while in a deep slumber. He wished he could wrap his fingers in her hair, and smell the strawberry smelling shampoo she used. A smile crept across his face as he thought back on those times, but a pang of guilt hit his stomach, making him sit up again. He glared at the clock.

"Only 1:30?" he muttered, sliding off the bed.

His phone buzzed. Seeing Rhodey's name flash across the scene, he picked it up.

"You talked to Peter yet?"

"What, is this like an assignment?"

"You promised, man," Rhodey complained from the other side.

"Fine, fine. I'll go do it now."

He hung up rudely, and stomped out of the room. A few minutes later, he found the door to Peter's bedroom and banged on it loudly.

"Get up, Parker!" he yelled.

He heard a crash. Two seconds later, Peter opened the door. His hair was sticking straight up, making it look like a mini brown cornfield for some reason. Tony sighed inwardly, amazed at peter's inability to keep his hair tidy. Not that he ever personally kept his hair tidy . . .

"Come on, Peter. We're going to go do something."

"O—oh! Okay!"

He closed his bedroom door behind him, and saluted enthusiastically.

"I'm ready."

"Oh god, I'm not Captain America, man!"

Peter nodded, dropping his hand. Tony started walking down the hallway, beckoning Peter to follow him. They reached an elevator, and after going up one story, they walked into the lab. The room was a science buff's dream! There were tables everywhere, covered with the latest technology and gadgets. On the walls were rows and rows of tools, lined neatly up in their categories. Peter ran his hand along one of the tables wistfully.

"Kid, it's all yours. Let's make something."

"We're like science bros!"

"No. That's me and Bruce. We're like boss and employee doing work or something like that."

When he saw Peter's face fall, he sighed.

"Okay, science bros it is."

Peter picked up a screw driver, and immediately started collecting material. Tony pulled out a glove, one that he was hoping to outfit with some new gadgets. The Iron Man suit desperately needed to be updated, so he figured this was the time to work on it. He glanced at Peter, who was starting to screw a few things together.

"Sooo," Tony began "How's life?"

Peter looked up, a little surprised that Tony was asking him something like that. He shrugged, realizing he needed to accept Tony's seemingly good mood.

"It's good, I guess. I'm just excited for our first mission."

"It should come soon, no doubt," Tony lied, smiling at the young boy.

As they both continued working, Tony stared asking a variety of questions. Peter told him about his parents who had died shortly after he was born, and then about his Uncle Ben and Aunt May. Tony asked if his Aunt and Uncle got a divorce, and quickly regretted it when Peter's face dropped.

"He actually was killed by a mugger," Peter said softly, fidgeting with a wire "I guess that's why I wanted to start saving people, so I could avenge his death in a way. Uncle Ben would be proud, I think."

"I'm sure he would be. What you're doing is very . . ."

Tony scanned his mind for a proper word. He finally said:

"Honorable."

"Thanks, I guess," Peter replied sheepishly.

"So, do you have any friends?"

"Well, there's Harry—"

"The one dating Mary Lou?"

"It's Mary Jane and yeah. That's him."

"Any other friends?"

"There's Gwen. She's super smart and nice and stuff."

"She's your science sister?"

"Nah, not really. I tried to teach her how to build a computer once and it well—"

"Exploded?"

"Nope. It just didn't work."

Tony mocked disappointment, making Peter laugh loudly. He dropped his screw driver, and Tony leaned over to pick it up. As he got back, he glanced at what Peter was working on. He hadn't really paid any attention to the teenager's concoction. It looked pretty cool. It had several red and yellow wires sticking every which way, and in the middle there was a timer, slowly ticking downward. His eyes narrowed.

"What's the timer for?"

"Oh, well. In two minutes the timer will trigger a chain reaction—"

"Through the red wires?"

"No, the yellow ones."

"What's it supposed to do?"

"It's a heater for my room. It gets cold up in there and—"

"How does it produce heat?"

"I send the atoms at each other and—"

"WHAT?" Tony screamed, staring straight at Peter.

Peter jumped, and shook his head wordlessly.

"Peter, what have you done?"

"I—I made a heater and it's—"

"That's not a heater! You made a bomb! What the hell were you thinking?"

"What? It's not a bomb. It's a—"

"Peter, I made missiles, and bombs and all that crap for years. Don't you think—"

Peter stepped back, raising his hands in the air.

"I'm sorry. I'm really really really really really sorry. Please don't be mad!"

"Oh my god. I have to disable it! Peter, step back!"

He stepped towards the beeping gadget and slowly started messing with the wires. Peter ran over to the other side of the room, but when he did, he knocked Tony's new glove to the ground.

"Be careful! I didn't close the routers!"

The next thing both of them knew, sparks were flying from the glove.

"PETER PARKER!"

He tugged on a wire desperately, and, to his relief, the timer stopped. Panting for a second, he spun around to see Peter, lying on the ground. The sparks coming off his new glove had stopped flying, but the faint crackling of electricity still could be heard. Trudging over to Peter, Tony offered him a hand, which Peter gladly accepted. Peter's face was ridden with guilt and embarrassment, and dropped his head ashamedly. His Fall Out Boy shirt had a hole in it, which Tony assumed came from the sparks. He reached down and picked up his glove, winching a little bit when it zapped him.

"Well," he said, his voice filled with uncertainty "That was fun."

"Oh my god, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make a bomb and I am super sorry that I made all the sparks fly everywhere and that—"

Tony shook his head, and patted the upset teenager on the shoulder. A few memories swirled through his head, ones of him in his father's lab. Although he had never made a bomb by accident, he certainly remembered things going boom. He looked at Peter, and suddenly, he saw himself. A young, eager teenager, desperate to please. One who made mistakes, really big mistakes, but more importantly, the one that wanted to do something important with his life. Tony smiled

"Peter, it's okay. When I was your age, a lot of things exploded in my dad's lab."

Peter nodded.

"Next time, ask for help if you aren't sure what you're doing, okay? You could have blown up this whole facility."

Peter nodded again.

"Well, I don't know about kid, but I am starving. Let's order some KFC or something."

"Can we get three of the mashed potato bowls?"

"Hell no. Let's get five."

They both laughed, and for once, Tony didn't regret Peter joining the Avengers.