"Are you sure you want to try this?"

Peter nodded.

"I'm better, now, really."

"You burned down the cooking school."

"Technically, Tony helped."

Wong snorted from where he was sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island, watching Peter and Strange.

"You lost the chess game," the sorcerer reminded Stephen. "He gets to cook breakfast."

"You're just saying that because you don't have to eat it," Strange said, sourly.

"Not my fault you lost your game and I won mine."

Peter smiled. He wasn't too concerned. Both men were excellent cooks and they were both right there in the kitchen with him. He wasn't going to burn the place down.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked Stephen, graciously allowing him to decide the menu.

"Lucky Charms."

Wong snorted, again, which earned him a wink from Strange this time.

"Come on, Doctor Strange…"

"Alright." Strange seated himself on the stool beside Wong's, where he could watch what was going on. The cloak was nowhere to be seen, since it knew Peter was cooking and there was a lot of potential for messiness. It had hovered close by, hanging on Strange's collar during Peter's lesson with Wong that morning, but after that, it had made an escape. "Eggs; over easy, wheat toast and fried potatoes."

Peter nodded, looking at Wong, expectantly.

"I'm having Lucky Charms."

OOOOOO

"Well, that was an experience."

"Come on, it wasn't that bad."

Strange shrugged.

"I suppose the eggshells could be counted as protein? Starch?"

Peter shook his head, a dishtowel draped over his shoulder.

"It was one little piece."

"I almost choked."

"Almost. But you didn't."

"My own little victories." He smiled, though, amused and enjoying having the boy at the sanctum with them. Even if the kitchen was a smoky disaster. Peter wasn't above cleaning it, anyway, and had apologized for melting the spatula. "Did you decide what you and MJ are going to do today?"

"Yeah." Peter knelt down to wipe up the three eggs that had rolled from the counter onto the floor before Strange taught him the trick of putting them on a towel to keep them from escaping. "I thought I'd see if she wants to walk in the park."

"That's a good idea."

"Pepper suggested a picnic, but I don't want to carry stuff – and it seems a little old fashioned, you know?"

"Sometimes women like that kind of thing."

He hesitated.

"You think I should do that, then?"

Stephen gave him a tight smile.

"You know how I feel about eating outside, Peter."

"Yeah. I was thinking I could just buy us some hotdogs and pop. That'd be easier."

"Do you need any money?"

"No, thanks. I'm good."

"When are you going?"

"Around noon? Maybe a little earlier."

"When do you plan on being back?"

Peter smiled up at him, still cleaning the floor.

"Is this a dad thing? All the questions?"

The sorcerer shrugged, smiling a little, as well.

"I suppose so. I just need to know when I should start worrying about you if you aren't back at a certain time."

"If we do the park thing, I'll make sure to have her home by six or so, so I shouldn't be much later than seven. If it's something else, because she doesn't want to walk in the park, I'll call you so you know what we're doing."

"Sounds like a good plan. Thank you."

"They're pretty careful about me being too flexible when I'm out and about," Peter admitted. "Natasha isn't fond of surprises."

"Yes. I'm aware."

OOOOOO

Peter walked up to MJ's apartment at almost the exact time he'd told her to expect him. He was a bit flustered when her mom and dad were both there to meet with him, but he hid it as well as he could while they questioned the two teens about their plans for the day. When Peter mentioned a walk in the park, her parents both seemed agreeable to it, and when they left, MJ apologized for their over-protectiveness as they walked down the stairs to go to the train.

"I think they expected us to go find a dark theater somewhere and make out," she said, smiling when she saw that Peter was blushing at the thought.

"Oh. Yeah. I can see why they wouldn't be okay with that. We could make out in the park, though." He flushed at the look she gave him. "I mean. Not that we should. Only…. You know, we're alone. It wouldn't matter if we're in a theater or in… yeah. Anyway…"

MJ laughed, and hooked her arm through his.

"Relax, Peter. This is going to be fun."

"Okay."

It was fun. The park had a lot of different paths – paved and not – and they were designed for just what they were doing. They spent the early afternoon walking and looking at the sights, and just hanging out. Peter bought them lunch at a hotdog stand, and they sat at a picnic table to eat, watching the people that were around them.

Peter loved people watching, but he hadn't known that MJ did, as well, so they amused themselves making up back stories for all the people they saw – and then Peter pointed out that some of those people might be making up a back story for them, as well, if they were being watched.

"Not that they'd even be close when it came to yours," MJ pointed out, taking a drink of her cola.

"What? Why not?"

She made sure no one was close enough to listen in on them.

"Well, let's see… you're the adopted son of Tony Stark – Ironman, himself. You hang out with the Avengers – you live two doors down from Captain America, and right next to Black Widow. You're friends with a rug that is made out of magic – and friends with an African princess who gave you a 4 million dollar present just as a hello and I missed you gift. Do we even need to touch on the Spider-man part?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Well, when you put it like that, then, yeah… it's a little off the wall."

"A little?"

Peter shrugged.

"Yeah. It's all part of my charm, though, right?"

MJ smiled and got up to throw her trash away.

"You are charming, I'll give you that much."

"Thanks."

They had to have her back home by five, but they still had some time. Mother Nature had her own ideas, though, it seemed, because as they walked – and now he was bold enough to take her hand while doing so – there were clouds that were beginning to form on the horizon, and what had been a light summer's breeze was now a little chilly.

They decided, reluctantly, that they should probably head back, but ended up caught by a cloudburst that seemed to come from nowhere. The two teens ended up huddled together on a bench under a small shelter to wait it out, and Peter wasn't certain if he should be happy (because MJ was holding pretty tightly to him to keep warm, just then) or annoyed, because it cut the date short.

"It shouldn't rain too long," he assured her. "We have plenty of time."

She nodded.

"I'm not worried. Although my hair looks terrible, now."

Peter smiled.

"I think you look beautiful."

And then, greatly daring, he leaned over and kissed her.

OOOOOOO

He was shivering by the time he got back to the sanctum after dropping MJ at home, and his t-shirt and jeans were drenched as if he'd simply taken a jump in the river.

It hadn't stopped raining the entire time, and he and MJ had eventually been forced to simply tough it out and had walked – almost jogged – to the edge of the park where Peter had hailed a cab rather than wait for a bus and train. He had money, he told her, they might as well not get any wetter than they already were.

He walked into the sanctum and was immediately met by the cloak, which swerved at the last minute when it noticed how wet he was, and simply hovered close by, instead of cuddling like it would have liked.

"You're soaked," Strange noted, walking up from the kitchen. "Has it been raining all day?"

"Yeah. Where were you?"

"The compound, gathering the Wakandan plants for Wong."

"Oh."

"I hope you don't have any plans for tomorrow," the doctor told him, hanging up his jacket to let it try to dry.

"Why?"

"Because your Avengers miss you, so you're going to spend some time with them. Natasha's orders."

Peter smiled. Like that was a chore.

"Okay."

"Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. Except for the rain."

Although that had been fun, too, he decided.

"Go get dried off," Strange ordered. "Take a hot bath so you don't get chilled. Turn off your air conditioner for the night. And get something warm on – a sweatshirt, or something similar. We'll start dinner, now that you're home."

"I didn't bring any sweatshirts."

There was a pause, and then Strange shrugged.

"There's one on your bed."

Another advantage to having a sorcerer so handy, Peter decided, shivering.

"Thanks."