"'She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest; but I will make her know it.'" - Pride and Prejudice, ch. 20
Although Tony has both the means and the motivation to listen in, he uses his tremendous willpower to resist that temptation. Also, he checks the security cameras via his phone every five minutes, which helps. He wheels back to the kitchen when he notices that Flash is there alone. Good stuff. He's ready to shake hands with Peter's new business partner.
And when he does, his congratulations aren't tame. Tony channels how proud he is of himself and his ploy to secure another of his kids' futures into his verbal applause of Flash Thompson. He goes over the top to emphasize what a great idea this is for Flash and TIT (he uses the full name to reduce the chance of a rogue giggle leaving his mouth), how Peter is a real repository of Stark knowledge and ingenuity, what a brilliant outlook both of their companies now have. He's articulate and grandiose, flowing from one compliment to the next, really laying it on thick. To top it off, Tony lays a fatherly hand on Flash's shoulder and watches the guy's eyes light up because Iron Man is touching him. He's never felt warmer towards his guest. Flash is just a kid after all―just a kid coming into an inheritance that probably feels like a pair of shoes two sizes too big. Tony's been there. He understands the burden of birthright. Hopefully, all of that's being communicated through the shoulder-squeeze and nod of approval.
Flash takes it all in, struggling to widen the net of his gratitude to catch all of Tony's encouragement and gusto. He's been vocal since he arrived at the compound and he finds it in himself to continue to spew positivity about the new, better connection between his business and the Stark family. In fact, he states his intention of considering them his extended family. Tony Stark offers him a proud smile. Effervescent, Flash goes on to narrate a heavily-biased recounting of his conversation with Peter. It's so clear to him that everything has worked out, that every hope he had has effectively been achieved. Peter's initial refusal just makes sense, as he explains to his host, and, in a roundabout way, enriches the acceptance of his proposition that Flash considers inevitable.
Tony thinks this kid's lost the plot. Yeah, he follows what Flash is trying to convince him of, but saying 'no' when you really mean 'yes'? That's not Peter and Tony tells Flash as much. He can't stand the heartiness of the guy's self-deception.
"But don't you worry," Tony adds, because he is not letting this fall through (and because he doesn't want to deal with Flash's likely despair). "I'll go have a chat with Peter, help him get his head on straight. It's just his loyalty to Stark Industries. He's been learning from his mom and I don't think he's considered another path before now, that's all. I'll bring him around to it."
"Well, I don't want to force him," Flash argues. "I get being loyal to his father's company, but he would be working for me. I need to know he has room for a new loyalty. I want us to put past difficulties behind us. If he can't let go of SI... I'm not sure Peter would be the right fit."
Tony does his damnedest to backtrack and rephrase, but he knows brass-tacks business rhetoric is Pepper's strong suit. While he can bluster and persuade better than the best, his wife can be starkly convincing without wasting a single word. He flings a bunch of optimistic comments Flash's way, hoping that one will stick, and gets the hell out of there to find Pepper.
"You're wearing your suck-up smile," she notes as he rolls into her office.
"You know, I thought about wearing the smile and nothing else, but I think that move was sexier before I needed your help to get my pants off."
Pepper cracks a smile and comes around her desk. She bends down, gives his cheek a lingering kiss, and whispers next to his ear, "It's still sexy."
"But what do you want?" she continues, resting back against the edge of her desk.
"I'm so glad you asked. It's actually what we want. I am, as ever, the emissary for your happiness."
"I'm sure."
"Ok, you're making the face that says 'speed it along,' so I'll get right to it."
"Great plan."
"There's a teensy problem downstairs."
"Tony, what did you do?"
He aims for aghast with his expression.
"Me? It's your son who's causing problems. Our buddy Flash has just finished laying out this fantastic proposal for him and Pete's turned it down. I need you to get him to yes."
Pepper crosses her arms.
"What business proposal? Is this the big mystery we had to clear out for after breakfast? God, Tony, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking about our kid's future, Pep," Tony insists, stabbing the arm of his wheelchair with an emphatic index finger. "Flash is looking for a business partner and he's asked Peter. You know he's ready for this. It'd be good for him to go back to the city, feel a sense of purpose again."
"Peter's not ready for that," his wife says with a sigh.
"He would be though, I know he would be. He just needs this little push and it's so..." Tony clenches his fist. "...frustrating that he can't see it. He told Flash no. More than once. If I talk to him, I know there'll be pushback, which is why it's time for Mom to step in before Flash changes his mind and goes scouting for business partners in some other family with some other company his dad bought out." He exhales. "This could save us, Pep."
She holds his eyes with a soft but certain stare. Her response sounds just the same.
"It's not Peter's job to save us."
It's touchy, when she says those words and she says them that way. Tony feels every ripple, every little moment when his son had too much on his shoulders, when he as a father expected so much. And again, when he as a father failed. If Tony had just fought harder in the first place, their lives would never have tilted like a board game knocked across a tabletop, all the little pieces sliding to the edge. Can't she see this guilt is exactly why he has to put things right? Set Peter back on his square so he can keep progressing around the board? So he can still win? Tony has to believe his children can still win.
"Please just talk to him."
Pepper doesn't look away for a long time, but eventually, she picks up her phone and, in a quick call, invites Peter to her office. He's at the door in no time, anxious fingers playing with the sleeves of his sweater. It's a habit he's never grown out of and the remnant of his childhood makes Pepper smile.
"Come on in, Peter," she says. Once he's sitting, casting accusatory glances at his dad, she continues. "I hear you made a big decision today. Flash offered you a position, right?" Peter nods. "And you turned it down?"
"Yeah, I―"
"That's ok, Peter, your dad told me enough. I'll get right to it. I'm sure you're already aware that your father is very much in favour of this alliance. Tony?" Pepper checks.
"Sure am," her husband chimes in. "And if Peter doesn't take this opportunity that's fallen squarely on his spidery-legged little lap, then he's never getting my help finding a job again. That's right, kid, nepotism just flatlined. You want a time of death?" Tony yanks back his sleeve to check his wrist in the most facetious manner possible.
His wife lifts a weary hand to tell him to shut up, then addresses their son.
"There you have it, Peter," she summarizes more than a little wryly. "Refuse Flash's offer and your dad's influence goes with it. The name 'Stark' will never open another door for you." Pepper pauses. "Accept his offer, and I'll have to withdraw my help, because anybody who bends to a sneaky, impulsive scheme like this clearly hasn't listened to a thing I have to say while I've been teaching him the ropes of my job. Is that understood?"
His mom's smiling broadly by the end and Peter grins right back at her. However, Tony, completely taken in by his wife's serious tone and fully expecting her to side with him after his very logical argument in favour of this 'sneaky, impulsive scheme,' is indignant.
"Uh, Pep? We were supposed to be on the same page here."
"First of all," Pepper informs her husband, "nobody tells me what page I'm supposed to be on. I'm sorry, but it's not my fault if you'd forgotten that. Second, please get out of my office. I have work to do for the company that every member of this family continues to represent."
Huh. Looks like leaving this in his wife's hands was the wrong approach. He gives her a sarcastic smile as he wheels out after their son; Pepper returns it with a much pleasanter one (because she won), so Tony switches to sticking his tongue out at her before closing the door.
Despite Pepper's ruling, he's not done pestering Peter. He badgers his son all the way down the hall and in the elevator, tries charmingly coaxing him for a while, then goes with a firm lecturing tone by the time they're in Peter's room and he's watching his son text Ned (there's nobody else it could be). Tony attempts to drag Vision into it when he walks past, but he very diplomatically declines involvement. Peter mostly ignores him, and when he's not doing that, he's saying 'no.' Over and over again. Where did this kid learn to be so pigheaded?
None of this family turmoil has any effect on Flash, who's been left to his own devices. Physically, he's flopped back on a couch, arm stuffed under his head as he thumbs through Instagram, but mentally, he's still having that conversation with Peter. There's no question in Flash's mind that his powers of persuasion and suaveness are anything less than lethal, so he remains at a loss as to how Peter could possibly turn him―forget the company―down. It's a major blow to his ego to be so thoroughly and repeatedly rejected by Spider-Man. Spider-Man, who's never wavered from his place as Flash's favourite Avenger, though his crush on the hero has waxed and waned over the years. Not important. He remains tragically in recline while the parental tug-of-war goes on upstairs.
Enter: Ned.
When Peter texted him that his home life was starting to resemble a dramatic Renaissance painting, Ned figured he'd skip texting back and just come right over. He knows when he's needed.
With his best friend still fending off Mr. Stark, the first person Ned encounters is Harley, who rushes up to him as soon as he's in the door. Peter's brother looks strangely thrilled for how dire Ned's understood the situation to be. It's like he's been waiting to share this with somebody.
"Amazing timing," Harley says. "Guess what happened. No, don't bother, I'll tell you. Flash Thompson offered Petey a job working for the enemy!"
"The enemy?"
"Well, Thompson Integrated Trust, but it's faster to say 'enemy.' And Peter shut him down."
Morgan comes flying into the room while Ned's processing this, and he realizes, of course Harley's already shared everything he knows with at least one person, and told Flash's rejection as a hilarious mishap, judging by how well the girl's gleeful expression matches her brother's. She repeats the same information, more or less, with decidedly more dramatic arm gestures. Ned allows the wound-up siblings to herd him into the living room. Tony's in there, taking a break from his efforts to talk sense into Peter. Because he can never resist an audience, and because he wants someone on his side after his son's persistent obstinacy, he now starts telling Ned the story for a third time, although, at least now Ned's getting some details. Ned recognizes that he's being selected as The Last Hope to convince Peter to give Flash a different answer.
"Come on, Ned," Tony says, locking eyes with the visitor. "For your best friend's old man. None of these yahoos want to do the right thing. I'm counting on you."
Seemingly to protect Ned from his own well-established inability to refuse anything he interprets as a direct order from Iron Man, Peter and Vision walk in. "Oh, thank god," Ned mutters.
"There he is!" Tony calls out, giving Peter a sarcastic smile. "Mr. Know-it-all. But you know what?" he continues, as if their dispute upstairs was never broken off. "I'm worried about you. I don't know what you're gonna do if you turn down every job offer that comes your way. Who knows what I'm going to have left to leave you when I kick the bucket? This was for your own good and I'm serious, Peter, I'm deadly serious about what I said in Mom's office." He sighs until it turns into a groan. "I need a cup of coffee."
Harley rolls his eyes and goes to make his dad coffee. Unlike Peter, he's prepared to do the smart thing and keep his mouth shut while their dad's feeling bossy.
When he comes back, mug in hand, and passes it off to Tony, his dad's still ranting, his siblings and Ned still standing there awkwardly―except Peter, who looks pissed and more defiant than usual. Well, good for him, showing a little backbone. The atmosphere becomes more uncomfortable when Flash strolls in. Harley figures it probably felt weird for him to isolate himself from the rest of them any longer, but it looks like he's really struggling, having all their eyes on him, wearing his recent failure like―as Smash Mouth so wisely sang―'the shape of an "L" on [his] forehead.'
"Ok," Tony says, the only person with enough of a stake to cut short his guest's embarrassment, "everybody clear out. I have to talk to Flash."
Peter, who only came down to find Ned, is more than happy to fuck off; he's the first one out of the room. Vision and Morgan follow their brother―the former attempting to temper the open hilarity of the latter. Harley tries his luck, perching on the arm of the couch and tensing up his features to mimic his dad's. Tony doesn't stop him. Ned, on the other hand, gets stuck in the room against his will because Flash engages him in conversation, probably thinking Ned's ignorant to his humiliation and therefore the one person there who might be an angle-less ally. He retreats when Tony starts to speak to Flash, but he doesn't make it all the way out of the room. Oh well, at least he'll be able to tell Peter what they said.
It turns out that Tony doesn't say much at all, because Flash stages a filibuster. With forgiveness for Peter, thanks to Tony and Pepper for their interference (Flash assumes they both represented his interests and spoke on his behalf), a slightly smug reminder of his connection to Nick Fury, and an even smugger hint that this was probably their best chance at saving some part of their family legacy, Flash formally, wordily, and forever retracts his proposed partnership.
After that long speech, Ned sighs for him, because the guy hardly took a breath.
Flash might've dealt his offer a fatal blow, but it isn't a headshot; more like a grisly stomach wound leading to a drawn-out death. Waiting for it to bleed out is painful―for Peter. He kinda wishes Flash would just leave the compound and go back to New York, but he's still collecting material for his videos and social media accounts and the family's still playing along because (thanks to Peter), Flash could still fuck Stark Industries over if he really wanted to. Peter also doesn't love how his dad continues to make not-so-subtle comments for the rest of the day. He'll get over it in time, Pepper promises Peter, but the whining is hard to take.
Of course, Tony's not being any more childish towards Peter than Flash is, but Flash's methods are significantly more tolerable. Instead of voicing any of his resentment (which he claims not to feel, but, respectfully, yeah fucking right, Peter thinks), he aggressively ignores Peter. Oh, he still manages to be nearby―in the living room, the kitchen, even outside the bathroom in one unsettling occurrence―but he's giving Peter the silent treatment. Because all of Flash's socializing energy has to go somewhere, Peter looks on guiltily as it's redirected at Ned. Shit. Why did his best friend have to come over? He should've stayed home and saved himself. The guy's too, well, good for his own good.
As bad as Peter feels that the burden of Flash's companionship has suddenly fallen on Ned, the rest of his family is visibly relieved. (When is their guest going home again? Nobody wants to ask him.)
Tony's immaturity and Flash's indignation are just as fresh the following morning and, without Ned as a buffer, Peter isn't the only one who's getting pretty sick of them. Harley suggests a return to Albany. Peter's the first one in the car, hoping to run into Liz Allan. After the overblown business proposal, the whole situation with her and Michelle seems very straightforward and manageable, and he's brave enough to chance texting Liz for the first time since the Park's open house. He keeps it simple, asking if she's back in Albany. She tells him she is. Just like that, Peter's looking forward to seeing her more than he was previously ready to admit―even to himself.
The Starks park where they usually do and meet up with Liz for lunch. The snow's receded again, but the cold has its claws in deep and they're all grateful to hustle inside for hot food. Unlike last time, they shove a couple of tables together, diminishing if not eliminating the need for Peter and Harley to surreptitiously attack each other as they vie for Liz's attention. It eases some of Peter's lingering heartache to listen to her express sincere regret over missing Wanda's party. He takes things too personally, he knows he does, and he's ready to laugh off this missed connection the more Liz apologizes. By the end of lunch, the reality of the largely horrible night he spent bouncing between a very confusing dance with Michelle and his family's assorted embarrassments has shrunk drastically. Peter's almost glad he hasn't seen Liz for a while. What do they say? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?
Harley's paying, Morgan's at his side attempting to liberate too many suckers from the jar next to the till, Vision's trying to persuade her into a little moderation, and Nebula's observing without interfering―secretly, she has a big soft spot for Morgan and can't see why her sister shouldn't be given the entire jar. His siblings' tableau gives Peter a moment alone with Liz. He shrugs back into his coat and, blushing for no reason, passes Liz her gloves. This is when she confesses that the last-minute request to give a presentation wasn't her only reason for missing the event at the Park.
"Maybe it sounds kind of ridiculous," Liz says. Peter shakes his head at her obvious self-consciousness. "But, I don't know, the more I thought about running into MJ, the more I was dreading the whole thing. Because I wouldn't just be running into her, I'd be there for, you know, hours. Leaving early wouldn't be fair to you, as your plus one, and I was afraid that, if she and I did talk..." Liz sighs heavily. "There would be collateral damage."
"That's considerate," Peter offers.
"That's nice of you, Peter, but I'm sure it just seems really juvenile."
"No. After everything you've told me... I know that would be hard for you."
With an expression brimming with gratitude, Liz squeezes his hand. His pulse skyrockets.
Peter's siblings return and the six of them exit the restaurant together. Since she'll be remaining in town, Liz offers to walk them back to their car, but Harley upgrades that suggestion to an invitation for her to come back with them and tour the compound. Maybe even meet the great Tony Stark, which Harley flirtatiously pitches as similar to meeting himself, only less exciting. Though Peter rolls his eyes, Liz is walking next to him on the narrow sidewalk, so he's not really too annoyed. His private smile widens when he watches Nebula hoist Morgan up for a piggyback. Peter never seems to have to worry about how his family looks from the outside when he's with Liz.
Unfortunately, Liz's trip to the compound is cancelled, or at least postponed; before they can all pile into the car, Vision gets an email and Peter runs damage control after seeing the stricken expression on his brother's face. Another time, he and Liz (and Harley―honestly, dude, butt out) promise each other before she heads off with a wave. Yeah, it would've been nice to spend more time with her, but family is always his priority.
Peter can tell that whatever Vision received is serious, and his brother only confirms his assumption by saying nothing about it the whole drive home.
One puzzled look that says Vision is uncertain of how to proceed is enough to have Peter nudging his brother through the living room and straight to the elevator. They ride up to Vision's quarters to speak in private. When they're safely inside, he brings the email up on a holographic screen for Peter to read for himself. But before he can begin, Vision steps in front to preface the message. Peter thinks a little warning would've done his brother more good than it can do him, but he hears him out.
"The email is from Brad. Maximoff." As if they know so many Brads; Peter spares him this inane comment. So not the time. "He... he and his sister..." Vision sighs, transitioning from his human appearance to his regular red self. "All of the Park's residents have left for Manhattan. Brad emailed me from the train."
"When are they coming back?"
"It sounds as though... Well, it sounds as though they might not."
"What?!" Peter doesn't get it. "How can they do that? What about the restaurant?"
"With the dining room and kitchen on the main floor, they were easily able to lock the residential portion of the building while allowing the business to continue operations. Apparently, Wanda has just engaged a chef to be her replacement so that she might... step back and focus on her role as owner."
"You have to be kidding me," Peter argues with a man clearly suppressing his hurt. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Read it for yourself," Vision offers, stepping aside to give Peter full view of the screen. Fine, he'll accept it. (And he isn't sure why he's feeling so combative; it's not like Vision deserves this from him after all of this shit.)
Peter scans quickly through the beginning of the email, confirming everything his brother's already informed him of. Even with the proof, he can't get over what an asshole Brad is. And the asshole tone continues, no matter how far Peter reads.
It's too bad we won't be able to hang out, Brad writes, but I'm honestly not going to miss the rest of it. I'm a city guy, I've always known it, and I'm so glad I convinced Wanda to sublet our apartment instead of giving it up outright. I can't wait to be somewhere that feels like home again. Maybe you'll drop in sometime and see the place, huh, Vision? We'll be able to do so much more when you visit me in Manhattan. Email's not too bad until then though, or FaceTime, or whatever you prefer. I'll follow your lead.
Dick. What Peter's getting from this is that Brad's happy to keep up his friendship with Vision as long as Vision does all the work. The other thing is that Brad's made his point about preferring city life―made it several times over―but why did Wanda need to leave? From what she said on the day that Tony visited his sons at the Park, she was content there. And she's just launched her business. Who the fuck cares if Brad stays? Vision definitely wouldn't. As much as Brad's probably flattering himself that his new android buddy would weep oily tears in his absence, Peter knows the guy would be quickly forgotten, even good-riddanced, if it resulted in Vision getting more one-on-one time with Wanda. Frowning, he turns from the screen to look at his patient brother.
"Too bad they couldn't say goodbye." Peter's tone shifts from careful to sly. "The nice thing is that your buddy Brad will get to see you more once you and Wanda acknowledge that you're a couple and, you know, actually go on a date. Then you'll be Brad's friend and his sister's boyfriend. Right?" he prompts. "There's no way Wanda's going to be gone for more than, what? A week? Brad can't make his sister stay with him. He doesn't need a babysitter."
"Perhaps not, but Brad specifically states that they plan to stay in Manhattan until the spring."
"The spring? Are you sure? It's only December! That's like... three months!"
"Look," Vision says, directing Peter to the relevant section of Brad's email. He decides his brother is reading it too slowly and so speaks Brad's words aloud: "'Wanda doesn't think she'll be able to stay away from the restaurant for more than a couple of days, but I don't know about that. I can't believe how fast she forgot about the life we had in the city. Once we're back, she might never want to leave again. I think it'll be good for her to settle in one place. Maybe do a couple of short visits to check in with the restaurant, but then figure out how to run it remotely. You and I both know how capable of that my sister would be. I can't see her needing to come back for longer until March, because she's already been talking about how to transition the menu from winter to spring. Anyway, hope you guys have a great Christmas. See you when I see you. Brad.'"
"There," he concludes, taking a deep breath. "Clearly, they'll have no real need to return until spring."
"Clearly," Peter counters, livid at Brad's stupid (and successful, which makes it even more stupid) scheming, "Brad's trying to make sure they won't."
Vision's expression shows bald confusion.
"Surely," he begins, "it would be an insult to Wanda to assume that she couldn't decide for herself." He pauses. "I'd better show you one more thing."
With that, Vision scrolls back up to a chunk of the email he buzzed past before. Peter just knows this can't be good. As with his physical wounds, it seems like Vision's too stoic hiding his emotional ones. Peter reads.
Wanda's been so lonely since we moved Upstate. Maybe you noticed that too? She tends to be shy, a little reserved, because of her powers. When she isn't in super-company, she gets self-conscious. Luckily, we have a lot of friends in Manhattan, and having friends is great, but even better is that they can help me convince my sister to try some dating apps. Imagine the number of people who'll want to go out with a smart, biologically-enhanced, business owner. She'll have her pick. Knowing Wanda though, she'll probably settle down with one guy pretty quickly. When you come to visit, you'll probably be meeting Wanda's new boyfriend! Fingers crossed.
Vision closes the letter and Peter blinks in the sudden absence of blue light from the holograph. His brother looks heartbroken.
"There you have it," Vision concludes. "I suspect you've been the only person considering the idea of a relationship between Wanda and myself to be a given. It has evidently not crossed Brad's mind, nor his sister's, if he anticipates being able to soon persuade her to date widely. Is there any alternative interpretation?"
"Uh, yeah, actually, there is! I'll tell you, as long as that wasn't a rhetorical question."
"Please do."
"It's so obvious," Peter informs his brother sadly. "Brad thinks he's breaking you guys up before you can fall in love, though, I mean, too late for that. I don't think he even really wants Wanda to date other people. He's too protective of her. All he can do is put distance between the two of you and hope you, I don't know, forget about each other, so that's what he's doing." He can see Vision's scepticism, so he tries again. "Trust me, man. You two are so obvious together, Wanda as much as you. There's no way in hell Brad hasn't noticed. If Michelle even once looked at him the way Wanda looks at you, Brad would be jumping in the car to go ring shopping. Those assholes―excluding Wanda, of course―think we're a bunch of rich, cultureless snobs. Brad will probably never change his mind about us. But he won't be able to change Wanda's mind either, and I know she wants you. His plan's never going to work, it's just irritating as fuck."
Vision gives him a fond look and Peter knows his argument hasn't worked. Sometimes (all the time), his brother puts too much effort into considering everyone's side and forgets to be on his own side the most. He doesn't always have allies where he expects them to be. In some ways, he's much more naïve than Peter is, which is saying a lot.
"You always judge Brad so harshly," Vision notes.
"Dude, he deserves it."
"You know I don't agree. I almost wish I did, but I've never been able to allow myself to take the easy way out. It's for the best that I face the truth now, Peter."
Peter groans in frustration.
"The easy thing is the truth! Wanda has a huge crush on you and if you want to believe Brad's bullshit over that, then..." He throws up his hands in lieu of a verbal finale. He's out of words for the moment. Apparently, there's nothing he can say to his brother that will make him understand what's happening.
"It isn't what I want to believe―"
"Just..." Peter sighs. "Make up your own mind, ok? Not with algorithms or measuring a ridiculous number of possibilities against each other. Go with your gut, Vision."
He can't stand his brother's doubt for another second and he storms out. Yeah, it's probably shitty of him, but his patience only lasts so long. Peter huffs, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Once he's in the stairwell though, he sits on a concrete step, his frustrated energy collapsing on top of him. Why can't Vision see what's best for himself? The guy's a born genius and he's a moron the second his own feelings come into play. Maybe that's what makes his brother human, more than anything else. Self-deception.
After a few minutes of grumpy brooding, Peter has to go back to at least make sure Vision hasn't pulled that email up again to stew in his misery. They have a stilted conversation. It involves purposely ignoring their disagreement about the larger issue in order to agree on what to tell their dad, who's going to flip out the second he hears Wanda's left the Park. The brothers decide pretty quickly that the fact of their neighbours leaving is about all Tony needs to hear, for everyone's sake. What would bringing up Brad's email do? Sure, it would almost certainly land their dad on Peter's side, but putting Vision through further pain aggressively cancels that out, as far as Peter's concerned.
Tony takes the news about as badly as they thought he would, but at the same time, he's also more optimistic than either Peter or Vision. Could be delusion rather than optimism. He's recalling the promise he extracted from Wanda after their late exit from her open house―the promise of her coming to the compound so that they'd have a chance to cook for her. He had Pepper pencil something into the calendar (he's pretty sure she really did write it down and wasn't only humouring him) and anything in the calendar is going to be taken seriously.
Peter isn't as convinced that a second of Wanda's fleeting acceptance will be enough to weigh against Brad's determination to keep his sister in Manhattan. Unfortunately, besides putting a hell of a lot of stock in Wanda's feelings for his brother, he isn't exactly sure what he can do about it.
Author's Note:
I LOVE WRITING PEPPERONY! Also, slipping in the Nebula moments. What's more wholesome than Nebula giving Morgan a piggyback ride? Nothing! Let's all hang onto that fluffy interlude when Flash continues to complicate the Starks' lives in the next chapter...
To be continued...
