Summary: Phil's doing his best. Don't judge.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts was really, really, the best friend that a man could ask for. She was the type of best friend that a man could hide a body with and feel assured in the fact that it wouldn't be found until the statute of limitations had run out. She was the type of best friend that didn't so much as bat an eyelash when you called her in the middle of the afternoon and said, "Things happened. I have a ten year old girl now. How do I dress her?" She was the type of best friend that cleared her schedule and spent the day in the mall with you and your kids as they (yes, they) tried on dresses with frills that you were pretty sure could kill a dude.

Pepper Potts was the personal assistant of the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and was probably the most amazing person in the world.

Phil all but collapsed into the couch at home, closing his eyes. Shopping was ridiculous. He was going to give his tailor such a large raise the next time he saw him. Pepper sat down next to him and gave him a supporting pat on the shoulder that was ruined by how bright her eyes were sparkling at his torment. She was wearing a sharp black two piece skirt suit with a pair of red heels, none of which even looked a little wrinkled, let alone as crumpled as he looked and felt at this point.

"...that's not fair." he said, looking her over.

She snorted softly. "Have you met Mr. Stark? I wouldn't be where I was now if I couldn't at least do this." she replied. He chuckled softly and was about to reply when Clint and Natasha came tearing into the room. Clint was chasing Natasha, who was holding one of the teddy bears Phil'd bought for Clint over his head. Both were laughing, which was nice and did not imply any sort of bullying or danger, so he let them be.

That is, until Clint managed to get a lucky hip check in. Natasha spun to keep her balance but it caused her arms to hit a table she had been a little too close to, sending the black china vase that had been resting on it crashing to the floor.

Both children went dead still.

Phil quickly rose from his seat and rushed over to them. Taking them each by an arm, he pulled them two steps back from the debris to make sure that they didn't hurt themselves. He knelt down and looked over Natasha's arm and was pleased to see that there weren't any cuts or bruises. He glanced up at her and realized that her arm wasn't they reason why they were being so quiet.

Her gaze hadn't left the vase.

"Natasha?" Phil said carefully. Her eyes shifted to meet his and the horror on her face died away to a blankness.

Holy shit.

Phil glanced over his shoulder at Clint, who wore a similar, but not quite as sharply blank, expression.

"You're not in trouble." Both children looked up at him, startled. "It was an accident. I'm not angry. Really. I'm just glad neither of you are hurt." he said.

Both stared at him, severely disbelieving. "It looked expensive." Clint said.

"You guys are more important."

Phil hadn't thought it was possible for them to look even more disbelieving, but he was totally wrong there. "Seriously. I'm not angry." At their silence, he sighed. "FINE. Do you want me to punish you? Do you believe you deserve to be punished?"

That earned him a tense silence. Heads down, shoulders hunched, nodding but clearly afraid of what he would do. Phil sighed softly and tried to run his head through all of the punishments his own mother had given him. He had generally been a really good kid (though a rebellious twenty year old) so it took a moment to find something.

"Okay, fine. Give me your hands." he said. Both cringed but offered up a hand each. Phil took a slow deep breath.

He gave them each a slap on the wrist.

When nothing else happened, the children opened their eyes. They stared up at him, then down to their hands, then up at him again.

"...You can't be serious." Natasha said.

"It's a legitimate punishment."

"It didn't even hurt." Clint deadpanned, incredulous.

"I'm not going to physically harm you." Phil said sternly.

"Then it's not really a punishment." Natasha said slowly, as if he were the child in this situation.

"Look, it's not- Okay, if you don't like my punishments, then pick one yourselves!"

"Phil," Pepper said, finally speaking up, "punishments aren't generally something the kids get to vote on." she said, her lips quirking up.

"Fine. How do you think they should be punished?"

Pepper paused thoughtfully, going through her own punishments. "No dessert tonight?"

"We were getting dessert tonight?" Clint asked in confusion.

"That's not really fair though, is it? I got them that for being good during the shopping. They're two separate things." Phil said with a frown. Pepper let out a soft agreeing hum at that. Phil rolled his eyes. See, it wasn't so easy, was it?

"No TV?" she offered.

"For how long?" Natasha asked.

"A day?" Phil offered. Natasha raised her eyebrows at him and, seriously, that was kind of condescending, thank you. "A week." he amended.

Natasha glanced at Clint, who shrugged. "We should have to clean up or something too." he said thoughtfully.

"Right. So no TV for a week and you have to do the dishes for that week." Phil said sternly.

"What about the vase? We're cleaning that up too, right?" Clint asked, glancing back over at the mess.

"No, of course not. I don't want you getting cut." Phil said.

Both children frowned up at him. "But-" they started.

"NO. End of discussion." Phil said with authority.

Phil gave himself a mental high-five. Yup. Saved it.

Phil's got this handled.