They're practically falling out on the cobbled streets of Brooklyn when they step out of the Southern style restaurant, all happily glowing eyes and cheeks reddened from the warmth of the inn.
"Why would you even fry pickles to begin with," Peter half-jokingly complains, pulling his hat over his frizzy curls, jacket still open and scarf simply hanging around his neck, ends dangling dangerously close to being stepped on.
"Because," Tony answers, stepping forward to catch the two ends and wrapping them around the indignant teenager's neck properly, "Generally speaking everything is better when fried." He grins when he's done and all that's left to see of Peter are his eyes that he's currently rolling towards the sky. "Now the Pimiento cheese that's something we can talk about –"
Peter is still working on pulling down his tightly wrapped scarf to free his mouth and regain some movement to his neck, when May cuts in, arm looped through Pepper's. "No. Nope, we're not starting that conversation again. The cheese was great."
Pepper doesn't look overly apologetic when she shrugs and meets her fiancé's eyes with a mischievous gleam in hers, "Sorry, honey, but you know she's right."
Tony tries to glare at her but stops once he takes her in fully: light rosé quilted jacket, dark grey knitted scarf and matching hat that highlight the twinkle in her blue eyes. She's leaning against May, posture completely relaxed and content. He's momentarily dazed, left speechless and with his mouth hanging open like a fish until Peter bumps into him pulls him from his thoughts.
He re-renders and blinks stupidly, much to Peter's delight who grins up at him cheekily. "She's a pretty big fish with this one tech conglomerate," he mock-whispers, "I'm not sure you stand a chance."
"Excuse –" They turn the corner to be faced with an avalanche of lights that has Tony step in front of Peter immediately to block him from the worst of it even as he continues, "– me, brat? Who just paid for your bona fide Southern experience?"
"Technically –," Pepper pipes in, laughing alongside May who watches the exchange with a soft smile, and gets interrupted before she can finish.
"Et toi, mon coeur?" Tony's hand comes to rest on his chest dramatically.
"Careful, your blue-blood is showing," Peter rolls his eyes – again – and tugs on his mentor's sleeve effectively pulling the older man with him towards the Christmas market that starts right around the corner, "Come on, I wanna get oliebols before they're closing."
"First of all," Tony starts, pointing his index finger at him, "Dutch is not a pretty language and you still managed to butcher that word. Secondly," he lets his middle finger snap up, "The plural of oliebol is oliebollen and, thirdly –"
"Wait, so he speaks Dutch, too?" May asks Pepper behind them just as Tony finishes with a dramatic sigh.
"Thirdly, we're not going anywhere until you close your jacket, Mister I-can't-thermoregulate-to-save-my-life. Literally."
Peter glares, "I'm not even cold yet."
"That's the point, stupid."
"Hey, hey," May stops them by taking a step towards them and positioning herself between the two men, looping her arm throw Peter's, while Pepper comes up next to Tony. "Be nice. Both of you."
The billionaire looks to his left, hoping find support in his fiancée's ever loyal eyes and just finds her silently mouthing 'overprotective' at him. He scoffs and grabs her hand, mumbling under his breath, "Sorry for not wanting to have to drive home a human popsicle."
"I heard that," Peter pipes up from next to May somewhere but before Tony can reply something undoubtedly equally childish Pepper shushes him and leans into him with a little hum, repeating May's words.
"Be nice, honey. You know you love him very much."
He smiles, turning his head to press a kiss to her hat-covered head, "Hm. Sometimes I wonder why."
And the thing is: They know he's lying. And he knows they know. There's nothing he knows with more certainty than why he loves these three dorks and their banter is part of it. He loves how none of them mince their words when talking back to him, loves how kind and dorky Peter is, how sarcastic May can be and literally everything about the woman to his left.
There's a weird sort of lump in his chest when he lets himself think about it, letting the easy chitchat of his family calm his perpetually racing thoughts as they stroll along the street past dozens and dozens of booths selling food and art and Christmas spirit (both kinds).
They're halfway to Peter's favorite Dutch booth – that, according to him, sells the best oliebollen in New York City and, according to Tony, sells the only oliebollen in the entirety of the United States of America – when Peter suddenly stops in the middle of the street, holding up May with him.
"Oh no," he whispers wide-eyed, zipper of his jacket in his hand in the middle of closing it, and looks up to meet Tony's eyes who, together with Pepper, stopped and turned when he noticed something amiss. "It's gone."
"What is –" he wants to ask, then stops when his mind catches up with the scene in front of him, "Oh."
Peter turns to May anxiously, his hand still clasped around the zipper, his heart dropping to his stomach and his eyes burning. "I lost it. It's gone," he repeats and feels like crying which is ridiculous which makes him want to cry even more.
"It's okay, baby, everything's okay," May immediately soothes him, pulling the unmoving teenager into a hug he doesn't return, "We're gonna look for it, okay? It's okay." He lets her soft whispers calm his violently galloping heart and nods his head slowly as he counts her breaths, shame still burning in his cheeks and hopelessness curling in his toes.
"It's a small tin soldier Ben gave him," Tony answers Pepper's unspoken question quietly, "It's always on the zipper of his jacket."
The compassion in her eyes glistens for a moment before it's replaced by a spark of determination and, in true Pepper fashion, she pulls away from her fiancé and drops her gaze to the ground. "Well, then we're just gonna have to find it again, won't we?" She says matter-of-factly and carefully starts looking around.
It's that no-nonsense attitude that has Peter pull away from his aunt, hope slowly blossoming in his heart. "It's really shiny," he declares and drops his head too, slowly turning around and searching the cobbled road for his token.
"Well, that's gonna be fun thing to do with literally a billion people trampling around this tiny street," Tony utters but mimics their actions before he has even finished the sentence.
Together they start retracing their steps but have only taken three steps back towards the restaurant when a familiar voice pipes up next to them. "Boss lost another credit card or something?"
"Harold," May smiles and greets him with a quick hug. Happy smiles and kisses her cheek, watching the group loiter around the street in amusement.
"This is not a joking matter," Tony tells without looking up, "This is far more important. We're looking for a shiny tin soldier about this size." He indicates a size of roundabout 5 cm with his index finger and thumb. "Chop chop, earn your money, Hogan."
"I want it to be known that I'm not on the job," Happy mumbles but doesn't ask any more questions. Instead he joins what is quickly starting to look like a hunt, hand intertwined with May's gloved one.
"Maybe it's –" Pepper stops on the middle of the street, ignoring annoyed pedestrians as she does, and pokes at something with her shoe, then sighs, "No, that's not it."
"It could still be at the restaurant," Tony suggests when he sees the hope flicker and die in his protégé's eyes, "You probably lost it when you took the jacket off and it's just chilling there until you come get it."
Peter smiles at them kindly, the misery still lurking somewhere in his stomach but his heart lighter having his family drop everything to help him search. He even manages a half-hearted quip back.
And it's not like it's the end of the world, or like it's the only thing he has left from his dead uncle or even the most important one to him but he still remembers him solemnly putting it on the zipper of his jacket when he was six years old and was afraid of taking the subway to school.
'It's okay to be afraid' he told him then, 'All soldiers are. But you have more bravery in your heart than fear and that, Peter, is the most important part.'
The quote joins the rank of a lot of others that Uncle Ben used to use to share his wisdom. May made good-natured fun of him for it on more than one occasion but her eyes would always soften when he sat him, skinny, lanky Peter, down to give him a lecture on life.
The tin soldier is a part of that and he always puts it on all his jackets to help him remember to be brave when he thinks he can't. It's his talisman, his lucky charm.
Rhodey joins them not much later, after having made F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell him why the penthouse was so ominously empty.
"You looking for your virginity, Tones?" he laughs, "I think you might've lost it somewhere in 19 –"
"Har-har," Tony looks up just to roll his eyes at his best friend, "You are all goddamn hilarious. Platypus we got a BOLO for a shiny tin soldier. Tighten your shot group and make yourself useful for once."
Rhodey raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, watching in unveiled amusement as everyone else very slowly walks past them without so much as acknowledging his presence with more than a nod. "You've been reading military dot com again? So who's the guy that's gone AWOL?"
Tony high-fives him with a grin, then sobers and points to Peter, shoulders sagging a little when he won't even look up from his search. "The squirt lost his lucky charm and now we're trying to find it. Though I still think it's in the restaurant." He stops walking and squints at the cobblestones in concentration before dropping down into a squat and reaching for the shiny object he found.
"Candy wrapper," he reveals eventually, and gets back up, feeling his own spirit sink as frustration settles.
"You should've seen the guy next to you," Rhodey laughs, never taking his eyes off the ground, "He looked a little confused at first but then gave a nod like it was a completely legit thing for a grown man to drop down in the middle of a busy street to look at candy wrapper."
"It's a hobby, honeybear," Tony shoots back, "Don't judge."
They reach the door of the restaurant then and Peter halts, as if he doesn't really want to look because he's scared to be disappointed if he does. Tony, noticing his inner turmoil steps forward, pats him on the back and then walks past him into the restaurant, heading straight for the table they had been sitting on not twenty minutes ago.
"Ah," he smiles, pleased, and squats down again, "There you are, tiny."
Triumphantly he picks up the tin soldier and its broken chain, grinning up at the new costumers sitting at the table who are gaping at him in disbelief. Which, you know, fair.
He shrugs and winks at them easily, "Sorry, my kid lost his lucky charm." He watches them stare at him for only a second longer, already internally writing the new tabloid headlines after the exchange before turning around and presenting said kid with his find.
When Peter meets his eyes, he thinks he finally gets all the songs and stories about children's eyes lighting up in the most magical way and he can barely get up and find his footing before the teenager is barreling into him in the most enthusiastic hug he has ever gotten in his life.
Tin soldier safely clutched in his hand he lets his arms wrap around his kid and pulls him closer. "Merry Christmas, squirt," he whispers into his ear, "We'll figure out a better chain in the lab tomorrow, whataya say?"
There's a flash of light and instinctually Tony turns Peter away from the source of it before looking up and finding Pepper winking at him with a big smile on her face. He rolls his eyes and pulls the kid with him towards the weird bunch of people they call their family.
Before they can leave the restaurant to finally get those oliebollen, the waitress is calling out to them in a thick southern drawl.
"Merry Christmas y'all!"
A/N: *dramatically* after a true story...
No, seriously. We were on the christmas market yesterday and my best friend lost a (shiny) earring and we went all the way back to find it and I was joking about how you could make this a fanfiction and people would still read it... so if you're a people and you've read this far...? Congrats & thank u for proving my point.
Also, Merry Christmas 3