A/N Okay, so confession time. Obviously the story is more about the dance than about Strange hurting himself. I just didn't want to give that away in the title. I wanted it to be a surprise to everyone – not just Pepper. So I'm not going to change the title or anything like that and we will still be checking on Dr. Strange, of course. It just doesn't completely revolve around him. Thanks for reading it, though, hope it's fun - and a little fluffy.

OOOOOOO

They released Pepper from the emergency room without issue. A bottle of painkillers and instructions to return immediately – or call the inhouse nursing – if anything changed as far as vision or if there was more pain. A phalanx of nurses, a doctor, Steve, Clint, Peter and Tony escorted her out to the hospital entrance where the sedan was waiting. Stark explained that the police had delivered it to the hospital for them, since Tony had gone in the ambulance with Pepper and Peter from the scene in the parking garage.

Clint and Steve had arrived in the city by portal – courtesy of Strange, who had wanted to come and was told in no uncertain terms by Natasha that he wasn't going to get out of bed. Natasha had stayed with him to make sure he didn't get frustrated and simply do what he wanted to do, and the guys had found themselves at the safehouse – which was closer to the hospital than the sanctum. Now, of course, they'd simply ride home with the others.

Pepper was bundled into the backseat of the car with a warm blanket – even though it wasn't chilly. She had Peter on one side of her and Tony on the other, while Steve offered to drive, assuming correctly that Stark would want to hover over the two in the back and would be too distracted to drive safely. Clint took the front next to Steve.

"Should we stop to get something to eat?" Rogers asked as they pulled into traffic, looking at the passengers in the back using the rearview mirror.

Stark had his arm draped over the back of the seat, his fingers brushing Pepper's far shoulder. She was already leaning against him, glassy-eyed from the medication that the doctors had given her and almost asleep. Peter had been offered pain medication and had declined it, so he was a bit more alert, and Pepper had hold of his hand, making sure he didn't want for lack of support from one of them.

"No," Tony decided for all of them. "We can get something when we get home. I want to get Pepper to bed."

"What about Peter's dance lesson?" she asked, rousing enough to sit up a little. "We can't miss it."

"It's not that big a deal," Peter told her. "I don't mind-"

"We'll take care of it, Pepper," Steve assured her, interrupting. "I can teach him."

"If you want him to learn all the dances from the 40's," Clint said with a smirk. "I, on the other hand, happen to be a fine dancer. I taught Lila."

"She's nine."

"She dances better than you do," Barton retorted.

The banter made Pepper smile, as it was certainly intended to, and Tony nodded.

"That's your assignment for tonight, then. Get with Romanoff and teach Peter a couple of slow dances."

Clint looked at Peter, who hesitated and then nodded.

"Sure."

He didn't even care about the dance, really. Not right then, anyway. But if Pepper still felt like going the next day, then he'd better know how to dance with her.

"After he eats something," Pepper stipulated, leaning against Tony once more, and closing her eyes when his arms came around her, protectively.

"Of course."

They fell silent, giving Pepper the chance to fall asleep – which she did. Tony watched Peter as they turned onto the highway toward the compound, but the boy was looking out the window at the passing scenery and didn't seem interested in making conversation. He simply held Pepper's hand, his thumb idly caressing her fingers while he leaned against the glass. With her between them asleep, Tony couldn't hug Peter like he wanted to.

Instead, he settled for letting Pepper go just long enough to reach his hand out and brush it silently against the boy's cheek. Peter looked over at the touch and Stark smiled at him. A smile that told him without words that he loved him. Which made Peter smile, too. Tony ruffled his hair, lightly, before putting his hand back on Pepper, but when Peter turned back to the scenery outside the car, he was still smiling.

OOOOOOO

"Do you need help with her?" Steve asked.

Tony shook his head.

"Peter will help me, Steve, thanks."

"Need anything?"

"No," Tony said, carefully gathering a still soundly sleeping Pepper into his arms. "I appreciate you guys coming."

"Any time," Clint told him, meaning it. He turned to Peter. "Meet us in Strange's rooms in an hour, okay?"

"Yeah."

They left and Peter quietly shut the car door behind Tony. Then walked beside him, holding the door that led to the inner corridors of the compound as Stark carried Pepper to their quarters.

"Is she okay?" he asked Tony, quietly.

"Just knocked out from the pain meds," Stark assured him. "You know how that is."

"Yeah. Should we skip the dance tomorrow?"

He looked over at the boy.

"Do you feel up to it?"

"I'm okay, but Pepper-"

"Is really looking forward to going to this dance with you. I think she'd be extremely disappointed if she couldn't go."

He gave Stark a dubious look.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. You don't want to disappoint her, do you?"

"No."

"Then unless she wakes up and doesn't feel up to it, I'd say we plan on going. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We'll get haircuts in the morning, when we go get your tux."

"Okay."

Peter opened the door to their quarters and went ahead of Tony to open the bedroom door and turn on the light. He watched as Tony put Pepper to bed, covering her warmly and then kissing her tenderly before gesturing the boy to follow him out of the room.

"How do you feel?" he asked him, closing their bedroom door and now able to give Peter his complete focus.

"I'm okay. Just a little sore."

"Just your back? Or anywhere else?"

"No. Just on my back where the car hit me – and not that much, really."

"I didn't have a chance to thank you," Stark said, sitting down on the arm of the sofa.

"If I'd been quicker, she wouldn't have fallen and hit her head."

"Any slower and it might have turned out bad, though. You did great, Peter."

"She's ours," he pointed out, shrugging and flushing just a little in pleasure at the praise. He admired Tony more than anyone in the world, really, and it never got old to him when Stark said something like that. He was sure it never would. "It's our job to take care of her, right?"

Which made Tony smile.

"Yeah." He looked around the room. "I'm going to stay with her – just to make sure she's okay. Which I'm sure she is. Are you okay getting your own dinner and taking care of the dance lessons with Natasha and the guys? Or do you want me to come?"

"I can handle it," Peter assured him. "You'll call me if you need anything?"

"You bet I will."

Careful not to apply too much pressure to the bruises that were hidden under Peter's shirt, Tony stood up and pulled him into a hug. Peter rested his cheek against Stark's chest, closing his eyes and leaning on him for just a minute.

The whole car thing had been scary for him. He was certain Tony would have been a lot smoother, and Pepper wouldn't have been hurt, at all, but he'd replayed the scene in his mind countless times – both in the waiting room and on the drive home – and he couldn't think of anything that he could have done differently to have secured the same result. Of course, he was still new to the being a superhero thing. Maybe as he got better at it, he'd be smooth, too.

He pulled away with a smile, thinking about that.

"Do you want me to have something brought to you?" he offered.

"Already taken care of. Go eat. And don't stay up too late."

"I won't."

"I mean it. I don't want to have to drag you out of bed in the morning and deal with a zombie."

Peter rolled his eyes, amused, and feeling better for having Tony there with him.

"Okay, dad," he said, throwing all the sarcasm he could muster into the word.

Which made Tony smile.

"I love you, son."

There was no sarcasm in his tone, at all, and that made Peter smile, too.