Rebecca pulled the whistling teakettle full of boiling water off the heating element and dropped the sterling tea strainer full of spices into the hot liquid. As she pulled two cups down from the cabinet, she heard Bruce make his way in through the garage. "Back so soon? Knowing you two I thought you'd be back much, much later," she teased her son.

The implication caused him to light up pink. "I came back early to get some homework done before bed," he fibbed, setting his backpack down and removing his coat.

"Always so responsible…" the woman trilled softly. "So tell me, darling. How did your date with Tony go?" Her head tipped to the side with a smile.

"Mom. It wasn't a date." Bruce shook his head and attempted to shrug it off. "We just went stargazing."

She gave him a look of 'Please, your mother knows better.', shifting onto her other hip. "Well then, in that case, how did stargazing go?" her words, though still teasing, were light at heart.

Bruce made a slightly disgruntled noise, rubbing the back of his head, "It went alright."

"Just alright?" her face shifted to concern. "Did something happen?"

"No," Bruce mumbled before sighing, "Well, yes and no."

The woman picked up the teapot and poured out two steaming cups of chamomile tea. "Here," she said, handing her son his, "Now let's go get comfy and you tell Mommy all about it." She gave him a quick peck on the temple before shooing him off to the living room.

The boy gnawed his lip, carefully making his way with the hot beverage in both hands. He set it down on the coffee table and sat on the couch, as did his mother. She looked expectant, but he took an extra moment to collect his thoughts. He grabbed one of the pillows and kind of hugged it against his stomach, hoping the pressure would ease some of his queasiness. "I just don't know what to do…" he admitted softly. "I told Tony we couldn't date for now. It… it seemed to really upset him."

"I can imagine," Rebecca responded empathetically. "Heartbreak is like that, dear."

"It's not like that though," Bruce intervened, "I want to date Tony. But I… I'm scared to…"

Rebecca frowned. "Bruce, sweetheart, why in Heaven's name would you be scared?"

"I… I don't want to hurt him…" he barely kept tears from falling, as he looked away, "D-dad…"

"Oh Bruce…" his mother hurriedly pulled him into her chest, hugging tight. She pet his hair as if it could banish the thoughts from his head. "Honey, not every relationship goes the way mine and your father's did."

"I know…" he mumbled, trying to let her caresses soak in, but all he felt was sick to his stomach, "But it could."

She lifted his chin with both hands, connecting her brown eyes with his. "Yes, it could," Rebecca spoke clearly, matter-of-factly. "Everything in life has risks. Sometimes we know the risks, and other times we don't. Knowing them shouldn't frighten us away from something that could potentially be wonderful." She stroked a hand along the side of his face, "Despite all the challenges I've faced with your father, he's given me many wonderful things. Including you, Bruce." She kissed his forehead. "Nothing could be more wonderful than that."

The boy let his mother pull him close, sensing that the topic had made her a little over-emotional as well. He rocked back and forth, rubbing her back as she sniffled. It surprised him sometimes to realize just how much forgiveness his mother was capable of— it might have been the only thing that kept she and his father together at times. It was one of her greatest strengths. And possibly weaknesses too.

Rebecca pulled back a few minutes later. "Gracious…" she swept away her tears, "I'm sorry, sweetie; I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay, Mom," Bruce said. He was thinking deeply now, trying to figure out how much 'risk' would be involved should he and Tony give things a shot. He ignored the knotting in his gut and posed a question. "C-could… could you tell me more about you and Dad? Like… when you first met and started dating… What was… What was he like?"

Rebecca seemed to consider this request a little worriedly at first, then again, she could understand her son's curiosity. She pushed the hair out of her face and sat up straight. "Well certainly, sweetheart. Goodness, where to begin?" she pondered thoughtfully, picking up her tea to stir it. She removed the spoon and took a long sip now that it had cooled.

"Well…" she gently smacked her lips, "when I went to work at the lab, your father had already been there for six years. In that time he had earned himself a reputation and had become well-established in his position and he was quite respected," she told, pressing her hands down into her lap. "Of course, I didn't get the pleasure of meeting him until after my training and a few months' work, when higher-ups decided to transfer me to the same department he was in."

Bruce hummed, taking note of the fact his mother phrased the circumstance as 'a pleasure'. He reached for his own cup of tea to sip at while her story unfolded. Rebecca went on, "I recall his demeanor being… a bit off-putting and callous; he only ever spoke of work or things relating to work at first. I found it difficult to socialize with him at times, but I admired him for his work-ethic and I can say that it inspired me. I enjoyed his presence whenever projects dictated it, though sometimes I worried he did not always feel the same towards me."

Bruce lifted his eyebrow, finding this information to be interesting. He wondered if his father had ever wished his wife-to-be would just leave him alone so he could get some work done, or if he'd appreciated her attempts to be sociable. Bruce thought he appreciated Tony's social nature more often than not. He shook his head, returning to the story his mother was telling. "That must've changed…" he said. If his father had always been indifferent, the two of them would have never gotten romantically involved.

His mother nodded. "It did, though I'll admit I was quite surprised at the time when it did. We had been working as colleagues for over a year. One day he approached me quite unexpectedly. I remember his words as if it were yesterday. He said: 'I have never met a woman so dedicated to her work as you are, Rebecca.' I thanked him; I was tickled to receive such a compliment," she put her hand to her breast in recollection. "Especially from him, it was all the more valued. But immediately after I said it, he looked so confused, and he asked if I was available after work— as it turned out, complimenting me was actually his way of trying to ask me out!" The woman paused to laugh. "Goodness, it's almost silly looking back on it now. I said yes, of course. He was so stiff and awkward that night; he had no idea what 'romance' was at all. But I could tell he was trying." She smiled.

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly. "Did you and he…?" he trailed off, curious about how soon the sexual aspect of their relationship had begun to bud as well but not sure how to ask it directly.

The woman giggled again and reached out to pat her son on the leg reassuringly. "No, it was several more dates before your father exhibited any physical desires. Mind you, that was fairly unusual for the majority of the men I dated prior to your father. But none of them were as passionate as your father is either," Rebecca noted with a sly little quirk of lips. She wandered gradually back into memory again. "That passion came to me as a surprise as well. As reserved and closed-off as he could be at times, I never expected there to be so much raw emotion hidden beneath the surface."

Bruce supposed that raw emotion went for anger, as well as love. He wondered if she'd realized that then, or if she'd been blissfully ignorant. If she'd known then what his 'passion' would later wreak, would she have still dated and ultimately married him? But then, if she hadn't, he wouldn't be here to even wonder that, now would he? Bruce took a drink, licking his lips afterward. "So… how long did you and Dad date for?" he ventured.

"Goodness…" her eyes defocused, "it's difficult to recall… it was quite some time. Perhaps a year or two?" Her face lit up with a smile, "We went out every Friday night, never missed a week. Even if that meant having a candlelit dinner under the lab fluorescents while we tried to finish up a project." She traced the edge of her tea cup with a fingertip. "It was amazing to watch his transformation over that time; he must have been really quite smitten. Of course, he still took his work very seriously, as you would expect." She took a final drink, finishing her tea and setting the teacup back down on its saucer with a light clink.

"Yeah," the teenager nodded. Hadn't Tony said something similar like that? That he'd changed a lot? He took a big gulp of tea in hopes it would settle his stomach.

"Your father was always surprising me back then," Rebecca mused fondly, drawing Bruce's attention back. "My admiration for him grew into affection. Day by day he opened up to me, and the more I learned about him, the deeper that affection became." She paused and held her son's gaze, "But the biggest surprise was the night he proposed to me."

Bruce felt his forehead wrinkle. "Why would that surprise you?" he asked; it sounded like the normal progression of things if everything had been going well. After all, that was what dating was for, wasn't it? Finding out if that person was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?

"You have to understand, sweetheart. Your father took a risk, just as I did." Her eyes were ever so moist again. "When I met him, he was broken and flawed, but he kept it hidden and locked up deep inside where no one could see, no one. Yet even so he found it in him to trust me. To reveal how damaged he really was, knowing I might reject him." She tipped her teacup to stare into the empty bottom. "That same night he told me that before meeting me, he'd been content to remain single and had no desire to pursue a relationship."

Bruce blinked, gawking. "He'd never dated before?" he interrupted. "How old was he?"

His mother hummed, counting the years backward. "Thirty-one, I believe. We got married two years later in '85."

The teen shook his head incredulously. Tony probably wasn't going to want to wait that long. He urged her to continue. "So… so after that, I mean, after your honeymoon you guys got this house…"

"Oh yes," Rebecca smiled again, "We'd both been living in separate apartments through our engagement. Your father wanted it that way. He felt it was more proper that until vows were said and the prenuptial agreement was signed that neither of us move in with the other."

Bruce felt himself grunt. That definitely sounded like his hard-ass old man. His mother continued, "We both had quite a bit in savings, so we were able to make a large down payment and secure a good mortgage. It was a very exciting time for the both of us, with many life changes ahead of us." She nodded to herself with a smile, "Those were good times."

Bruce nodded, but he knew the biggest life change wouldn't come for another ten years, and that change was sitting on the couch drinking tea with his mother. He sighed somewhat heavily. While it was fascinating to hear about the bygone years of his parents' relationship, nothing his mother had said made him any more confident than before about the potentiality of he and Tony. Not to mention he could feel a slight migraine coming on. 'From over-thinking,' Tony would've said.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" his mother asked, and then he realized he'd accidentally gone silent the past minute or two.

"Yeah," he answered distractedly, "Yeah, I should probably get to bed. But, um…" he looked down at his cup on the coffee table, "thanks for tea."

Rebecca took the opportunity to hug her son close again. "Anytime, darling. You know I'm always here for you to talk or whatever else." She stood, picking up both teacups to take to the kitchen. Bruce smiled for the first time in hours; he knew she was.

He'd only just pushed in through the door with the little bell above it when a booming voice sounded out across the parlor. "Master Stark!" Theodore hailed his classmate with a raised fist, recognizing him immediately.

"Thor?" Tony drew back in surprise, nearly backing into the door as it closed behind him.

"Aye, 'tis I," the young man grinned a mile wide upon hearing his preferred title from the other high schooler's lips. "I wager you come to slake thine hunger upon the crispest breadcrust in all the realm?"

"Thor, it's early," Tony replied, pinching the bridge of his nose– even with a long shower and a lot of drinking water he could still feel a touch of last night's drinking he'd allowed himself to do. "Can you run that by me again with about seventy percent less 'what light through yonder window breaks'?"

"You come to purchase a pie, do you not?" Theodore pointed above his head at the menu.

Tony deflected the question, "Is that what you're here for?"

"Certainly not. This is my place of employment," the blond explained with hearty pride. "It's my duty to respond to the calls of hunger!" Theodore pointed then to the telephone on the wall behind the counter.

Thor really needed to use his inside voice; his volume almost made Tony's ears ring. "I thought you were the delivery boy for the Wok 'N' Roll on the other side of the street." He had delivered his and Bruce's Chinese food that one time. Tony was confused.

"Aye, that I am," Thor confirmed. "My prowess in the hasty transport of sustenance is known throughout the mighty Chain of Restaurants!" He swept his hand out to convey the magnitude, "Wings World, Tex-Mex Express, and Charlie's Subs all hail me as their own." He thumped his chest; his honor could not have been more evident.

"So… you're the delivery boy for basically everywhere?" Tony drew out with cautious incredulity.

"If I am to ride across town to deliver an enchilada with rice and beans, why should I not as well deliver chow mein and potstickers to his neighbor?" Thor explained, gesturing with his open palms up. He fisted one hand and struck it into the other. "T'would be a waste of time and fossil fuel to do anything but! Besides, if I am to support myself, coin need be plentiful." He rubbed his forefinger and thumb together.

"And they let you work for all of them at once?" Tony was flabbergasted. "That's not a conflict of interest or anything?"

"Men hunger for a great variety of victuals," Thor grinned as he explained to his bamboozled classmate. "When you desire pepperoni pizza, would you settle for buffalo wild wings? I think not!" He threw back his head and gave a thunderous laugh.

Tony rubbed near his earbones. "Makes some sense, but don't you ever feel, I don't know, overworked?"

"Overworked?" the blond tilted his head at his friend as if he did not understand his meaning.

"Well, you're the only delivery guy, for what, five take-out restaurants?"

"I am not alone. I heard rumor that others were to be interviewed by Sir Salvatore this morn'." A grin spread over the football player's face.

"You don't say?" Tony lifted his chin to scratch the still slightly irritated skin on his neck he'd freshly shaved that morning.

"Aye, but I doubt his skill shall hold a candle to my own," Thor boasted raucously. "But I yearn for the challenge nonetheless!"

"Yeah…" Tony echoed nervously, "What time was the poor guy supposed to be here?"

"I would not know," the blond responded. The beeper on his waistband went off again, signalling he was needed at Charlie's Subs. "Ah! But I have tarried here with you for too long, friend. Deliveries await! If all goes well, I shall meet my apprentice on the morrow!" He grabbed Tony's shoulder, squeezing and giving it a shake. "I bid you farewell, until our paths cross again."

"Right back at ya, Greased Lightning," Tony replied, giving the blond's shoulder a bump with his fist.

"How would one coat the sky's wrath in the fat of a pig? And to what purpose?" the teen looked perplexed.

Tony shook his head, "Ask Steve. I'm sure he'll get the reference."

Theodore's blue eyes lit up with boundless delight, a reaction that wasn't lost on Tony. "Ahh, I will be certain to," he nodded before swiftly pushing out the door, bell jingling in his wake.

"That Theo's really somethin', huh?"

Tony turned to see a tall, burly, olive skinned man in a flour-dusted apron leaning against the counter. "Yeah, I guess that's as accurate an assessment as any," Tony replied.

"Glad he finally cut his hair though. You Howie's kid?" the man switched gears, betraying a hint of a Brooklyn accent. "You got the same mug as him."

'Howie?' Tony willed himself not to snort. He was trying to exercise professionalism. As much as he really didn't want a job right now, the concept of earning his own money then buying something nice for Bruce with said money so he could gloat about how thoughtful he was until he got bored was very appealing. "Yes, sir." He held out a hand, "Tony Stark."

A strong hand swung out and clasped onto his like a vice and still tightening, "Salvatore Mancini. Call me Sal."

Tony winced a little at the oppressively firm handshake, "Great to meet you, Sal."

Sal relinquished his grip, much to Tony's relief (though now he was seriously questioning whether he had any bones left in his hand, or if they'd all been compressed to a fine dust), "You wanna step into my office?" He thumbed back at it.

Tony nodded, clenching and unclenching his fist at his side, following Sal as he made his way back to through the kitchen to the manager's office; he sat down in the seat across from him.

Salvatore steepled his fingers before continuing, "Alright so, a few standard questions I gotta ask. You ever been convicted of a felony?"

"Like Hell," Tony snorted, then caught himself, wide-eyed. "I mean, no, I haven't," he corrected.

Sal nodded. "I got a feeling that Mustang parked outside is probably yours, but," he sighed and shifted heavily in his chair, continuing the needless next form question, "Can you drive or do you have reliable alternative transportation?"

"I have a car, and my license, yes…" Tony answered, relaxing a bit once he realized the stuffy formalities they were engaging in were equally distasteful to the both of them.

"You on any drugs?" Sal followed up quickly, giving off the distinct vibe that he wanted to expedite this exchange as much as possible.

Tony had to remember not to scoff again. He was a wild one, but not that wild. "No. I mean… prescription, yeah."

"As long as they're all your prescriptions," the manager chuckled, and that made Tony feel comfortable enough to mirror the action.

"Of course they're all mine," Tony replied, his tone an equal measure of amused and incredulous.

Sal hummed to himself, nodding and then pushing his chair back to stand, his body language giving off an air of finality, "Alright, kid. I'll see you back here tomorrow. I'm gonna have Theo run you through the basics."

Tony eyed him confusedly for a moment, "But I haven't even had my interview."

Sal chuckled, shaking his head, "That was the interview. You passed. What? You think you need credentials to run pizzas around? I could hire babies to do the job. 'Cept then I'd be facin' charges on child labor laws."

Tony stood awkwardly, hands sliding into his pockets, "That was hardly what I was expecting from my first interview." They hadn't even been talking for ten minutes!

Salvatore waved dismissively, gesturing Tony towards the dining room doorway, "I don't have time for bullshit. Got a business to run."

"No wonder you and my dad got along so well," Tony remarked as his new boss led him out.

"Got along?" the man snorted, "This was the first and last part time job your fogey of a father ever worked. I don't have to tell you why he was so determined to get that college degree and start up his own company." Sal chuckled jovially.

"You didn't like each other?" Tony guessed.

"He didn't like the job. He also didn't like to be told what to do, but he always knew how to put on a face and do what needed to be done. Real professional that kid."

Tony snorted at his old-timer being referred to as a 'kid'. "I'll have to take your word for it."

"It ain't a wonder he sent you to me. If you got half the drive your old man did, you'll get along just fine here." He held out his hand once again, "Swing by a half hour early tomorrow and I'll fix you a slice and a coke. On the house."

Tony hesitated to take the man's hand at first, but the handshake he received was only half as strong as the first— thank God. "See you then, boss," he responded.

"You think this is some front for the mafia? I told you already; it's Sal."

"Right, sorry," Tony replied, resisting the urge to duck his head.

"I'm just screwin' around, kid. Relax." He gave him a light shove that nearly threw him on his ass. "Now get outta here, this might be your last day to enjoy your freedom."

"Yeah," Tony nodded, turning for the door and pulling it open, surprised at his own eagerness to come back and prove himself. "Thanks for hiring me."

Sal nodded vigorously, though at the same time he was gesturing for Tony to leave, "Go have some fun tonight, kid."

Tony sat in his car a long while before he even bothered to turn the ignition, thinking about this turn of events. So, it was official. He had a job now. In spite of the glaring lack of choice both his new boss and his old man had presented him with, he couldn't help but feel a surprising upturn of lips at this development.

Normal teenagers had jobs, learned responsibility, earned their own money and grew up. These were things that he could do assuming he stayed healthy and his condition didn't cause any complications. Even if he still wasn't quite over the shock of what he'd learned from his father in regards to his arrhythmia, it was uplifting on many levels to know that the old geezer had done this for him. This was one big step towards living a normal adult life, and the fact that his father had actually been a father and given him the push to do it was finally starting to register how much was changing between them. For once, for the better.

He grinned as he pulled out his phone to text Bruce the good news, but stopped as quickly as he'd began. No. No, a better idea was beginning to form already. If he kept this information to himself, he could save up and buy something nice for the big guy. It might not be something insanely expensive, but it would be thoughtful, and it would be the first thing Tony ever bought without a penny of his father's fortune. His grin threatened to split his face.

With any luck, the sentiment could be enough to win his buddy over and convince him to give the whole relationship thing a shot. If not, it should at least be enough to win him a blowjob. Tony snorted as he pushed in the clutch and fired up his 'stang. Bruce would probably have smacked him upside the head for that, even if the big guy intended to do it anyway. Yeah, he'd wait to tell Bruce. The surprise would be more than worth it. Besides, he was sure this part time job wouldn't eat up too much of his free time.

"Master Stark! I must yield to the Light of Yellow!"

"No, you've totally got it— just hit the accelerator, go go go!"

Thor did as told, the light turning from yellow to red as his chariot sailed beneath it, followed near-immediately by a chorus of screeching tires and honks, and possibly one or two swears from a rolled down window.

"Haha!" Theodore struck the steering wheel with both palms. "Foolhardy as that may have been, I can still feel excitement coursing through me! We have gained much ground with this maneuver!"

"Yeah, it's called a 'rush'," Tony added. He clearly wasn't as floored as his flaxen-haired counterpart, but he still felt some runoff excitement seeing his friend so easily entertained by the simple action of running a red light. Though Thor's car— an old 1980s Jeep Wagoneer— had nowhere near the torque his 'stang did and was in definite need of a tune-up; the clunking engine noise coming from under the hood was enough to make the hot rod-enthusiast cringe. "I take it your parents are the standard 'safe' drivers?" he inquired.

Thor clenched the steering wheel in response, "I count neither an influence in my life, and have not since I took leave of their care shortly before The Eve of the New Year."

Tony blinked. "Wait, you left home? So where the Hell did you go?" he asked.

Theodore's mouth pulled into a thin-lined grimace, hooking his thumb behind him.

Tony's eyes followed the motion, mouth gaping at the sight of a pillow and a few wadded-up blankets in the backseat. "In your car?" Tony spouted incredulously, "In this car?!"

Thor turned his head to lift an eyebrow at him, unamused. "You belittle my conveyance—?"

Tony held up his hands defensively, "My bad; that was rude," he apologized. "But seriously, dude, your car?!"

"I was fortunate enough to be offered a place to reside not long after. I am surprised you had not noticed the futon in the far corner of Friend Steve's bedchambers." Theodore brought his chariot to a halt on the curb of 1504 Windsor Court, removing the seatbelt from his chest and lap before clambering out onto the street.

Tony hurried after him, pizza box tight in his fingers. "Wait, what?" he blurted.

The blond halted on the front step of the domicile, ringing the doorbell. "'Tis only a temporary arrangement; be assuaged. I've been told by the head of household that it is a passable solution until time affords them the freedom to procure proper bedding."

The billionaire's son shook his head. "I can't believe it."

"That a friend such as Steve would be so sympathetic to my plight?" Theodore nodded. "Aye, I am frequently plagued with similar feelings of disbe—"

"No. That I've been out of the loop this whole time." Tony would have thrown his hands up in the air for emphasis, but they were currently carrying any hope he had for splitting a tip with Thor once the day's training was through. "The only thing he bothered to tell me on New Years was that he…" he tapered off, realizing several things in the span of only a few seconds, number one being he really shouldn't finish that sentence. He coughed.

Theodore turned his head to gaze upon his apprentice with curious eye, when the portal in front of them both opened. "Ah! Good sir, we come bearing thine Gourmet Chicken Parmesan pizza, still hot and of the highest caliber!" he motioned enthusiastically.

Tony just smiled nervously, thanked God silently for his amazing timing, and held up the pizza box, head tilting to indicate the white paper bag balanced on top, "And mozzarella sticks. We brought those too."

The man hummed indifferently, not questioning the odd manner of speech as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. He sifted through his bills before pulling out a single, handing it to Thor before taking his delivery from Tony.

Thor beamed back at the man, "Gratitude to you, noble sir!"

Then man gave the two an awkward glance and closed the door. Thor's smile faded into a scowl as he heard the lock clink, "Ungrateful lout! Thieving villain!" He turned to address Tony directly, "That, Sir Anthony, is how one finds their way to the end of all future delivery runs."

Tony chuckled, clapping Thor on the shoulder as they head back down to his Jeep, "You're the wrong guy to snub off, huh?"

"Aye, but though I may wish such a miserly man never feast upon the delicacy of artisan bread ever again, I must bear no grudge. Come, let us return to Sir Salvatore's in hopes that our next venture yields more fruit! I wish to celebrate with drink this night, in honor of my new compatriot, should he be so inclined to join me." Theodore smiled at his fellow peer.

Tony took a few seconds to consider the offer, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I've been trying to limit my drinking lately honestly." Laaast night notwithstanding…

The jock frowned. "But this is a time for joyous celebration!" he began to protest, before humming. "I suppose should you wish to limit your consumption, it shall be of no issue. After all, your company is the true benefit, trusted friend!" He opened the door to his chariot and stepped inside.

Tony bit his lip. If that was the case, he wasn't sure why he would have any further reservations. Yeah, he and Bruce had planned to hang out tonight, but they hung out every night. It shouldn't be an issue; they'd hang out tomorrow. He addressed Thor, "And Steve and his parents are okay with this?" he asked as he joined the other boy in the car.

Theodore paused to stroke his chin, "I suppose with Friend Steve's elders taken into consideration, it would be unwise to partake in such revelry openly." He visibly deflated for but a moment before his countenance brightened again, "No matter. We shall engage in merriment of other kinds. I trust you are familiar with the Consoles of Next Gen?"

Tony's face cracked into a smirk, "Familiar enough to beat you and Steve back into the middle ages and the nineteen-forties, respectively."

"The gauntlet has been thrown!" Thor bellowed, turning the key within his chariot and causing it to roar to life with the same intensity as his own, "I shall inform Friend Steve upon our return to the place of employment. I warn, Master Stark, the Son of Coul verily knows every cheat code."

"Which will make it even more upsetting when I wipe the floor with all three of you," Tony teased, pulling out his phone to text Bruce. 'I've been invited to dinner at the White House. Is it okay if we hang out tomorrow instead?'

Though he'd normally have hit send immediately, something about the wording rubbed him the wrong way. Bruce had made a point of saying they weren't dating. He probably shouldn't be acting like he had to run all his plans by his friend. To do so seemed clingy and overbearing, and it might even contribute to making Bruce a little uncomfortable. Tony hit delete and started over. 'Heading to the White House for dinner tonight. I'll catch you at school tomorrow.'

Satisfied with the tone, he hit send.