A/N: In answer to a comment posed to having Bucky sneak onto the property under JARVIS's watchful eye; Natasha could do it, and it's canon that the Winter Soldier is as good as she is. Bucky has all of his abilities in this story, and he will have the metal arm, although there will be no Civil War, to give a spoiler. You guys already know that I love the team dynamic of all of the avengers too much to allow it to be ruined. There might be some drama, of course.

OOOOOOOOO

Monday morning found them all eating breakfast and getting ready to start another week. Peter was still somewhat sleepy, but he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a Hulk t-shirt, while Pepper was wearing an expensive yet conservative cream-colored business suit, and Tony was wearing one of his perfectly tailored suits. It might look like he was going to be in meetings all day, too, but really he wasn't. He and Peter had a doctor day ahead of them. Not only did Peter have his regularly scheduled appointment with his psychologist, but before that, he had an appointment with his pediatrician. He needed a physical to be allowed to play football, according to the information that Eric had sent them, and Tony and Pepper had decided that they might as well get him in and get it done as soon as possible.

Peter was excited. Not about the physical, or even his therapy appointment, but Tony was going to take him to buy the items that he would need – and a few things that weren't on the list, but Peter should have. Mainly a football. That way he could start playing catch with Tony or Pepper, and learn how to throw and catch it.

"You're going to be at the tower until Peter's doctor appointment?" Pepper verified.

"Correct."

"I'll drive myself in," she decided, buttering a slice of toast, amused at the Batman symbol that was burned into it. "That way, if your shopping trip runs later than expected, I won't have to hitchhike to get home."

Peter giggled at the thought of Pepper standing on the side of the road holding out her thumb, and both adults smiled.

"Sounds like a plan," Tony agreed. "Do you want us to bring home dinner?"

"Let's wait and see."

They both preferred actually cooking dinner if they could swing it with their busy schedules, but that wasn't always possible, realistically. Peter never minded eating a burger or pizza when necessary, he told them, but they reminded him that it was a parent's job to feed their kid healthy, and Peter always smiled at the phrasing, knowing that they both liked being parents and doing the parent things with him – including the responsible stuff.

He also smiled at the reminder that he was someone's kid, again. It was six months and then some, now, since Tony had adopted him, but it was still pretty fresh and new, sometimes.

They finished breakfast and headed out, meeting at the tower, again, before Tony took Peter to daycare to spend time with the kids there before his pediatrician appointment.

"I'll pick you up in about an hour," he told the boy, ruffling his hair rather than hug him, even though he knew the boy wouldn't be embarrassed at the show of affection. "And we'll go have the doctor reassure your mom and I that you're not going to get squashed playing football."

Peter grinned.

"I'm supposed to get squashed," he reminded him, hugging himself. "That's what's fun about it, Ned said."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell Pepper that, okay?"

"Okay."

OOOOOOO

"Well?"

Tony shrugged.

"If you were hoping that she was going to tell him he was too little, or talk him out of wanting to play, we definitely chose the wrong pediatrician."

Pepper frowned, shaking her head.

"I wasn't, I suppose," she replied. "But I wouldn't have been too upset if she had."

"Nope. She poked and prodded and told him all about her son, who played Pop Warner football when he was Peter's age, and then went on to play in high school, and is still playing in college. Now Peter is thinking that he needs to become a running back, because that's what her son plays."

"Running backs get tackled all the time."

"I'm aware of that, Pep. We'll try to find something else."

"You're at the psychologists?"

She could see the waiting room in the background of the video call.

"Yes." He smirked. "He isn't going to talk Peter out of playing, either, you know?"

Pepper rolled her eyes, amused, now, rather than concerned – which was what Tony was hoping for.

"I suppose there's always the people at the sporting goods store."

"Don't hold your breath on that."

"We're going to have chicken for dinner."

Tony smiled.

"I'll make sure we're home in plenty of time."

OOOOOOOOOO

The sporting goods store Tony chose to take Peter to wasn't the closest to the psychologists office, but that was on purpose. He had been looking for someplace out of the way. Someplace where he wouldn't cause a scene and a distraction. It was well and good to be Tony Stark, and he was honest enough to admit that he loved being a sensation – most of the time – but this football thing wasn't about him, it was about Peter. And that meant that the shopping thing might take a while and he didn't want a huge crowd around them while they did it.

The clerk's jaw dropped when he and Peter walked into the store, but to his credit, he didn't scream, or cry, or even faint a little. He didn't even reach for his phone. He stared at Tony as they walked up to the counter, and then looked down at Peter who was grinning up at him, excitedly.

The smile was contagious, and the man smiled back.

"Hi. Can I help you guys?"

As normal as if superheroes walked into his store every day. It made Tony smile, and he put his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"My son is trying out for football, next weekend, and we need some gear for him."

"Oooo." The man grinned, too, now, and didn't even have to feign his interest. "What position?"

"I don't know, yet," Peter admitted. "What's the best?"

"Depends on what you like to do," was the reply. He walked out from behind the counter, and led them towards a large area filled with football equipment. "Are you a runner? Do you like to catch the ball? Throw the ball? Or do you just want to smash into everyone as hard as you can?"

"I've never done any of it," Peter told him.

"We're thinking something more geared toward his stature," Tony said, pleased at how the man was interacting with the boy. A sure sign that Peter wasn't his first kid trying out a new sport. "He's going to be one of the youngest on the team…" and the smallest, for sure, but he wisely didn't say that. Luckily, he didn't need to. "So he probably won't be a lineman."

The clerk nodded, sizing Peter up.

"Are you a fast runner?"

"My legs are short."

"Go stand over there," the man said, gesturing toward the back wall – into the store and not toward the door. When Peter complied, he picked up a small nerf football and lobbed it at him, and smiled when the boy caught it, easily. "Good job."

Peter grinned, looking at Tony for his reaction.

"Thanks."

Tony smiled, too.

"So, maybe you can be a receiver," the clerk said. "Or a safety." He looked at Stark. "Short legs don't mean as much when you're playing Pop Warner. They're pretty careful with their players' safety, and use a lot of pads and protective gear. None of the kids are running fast carrying all of that weight. Receivers are on the offense," he told Peter. "They're trying to catch the ball when the quarterback throws it, and score touchdowns. Safeties are defense," he added. "They run around chasing after the receivers and trying to keep them from catching the ball when it's thrown to them. They're both important positions," he said. "But they don't get clobbered like the guys on the lines sometimes do."

"That might be a good position to try out, then," Tony said, looking at Peter to see what his reaction was.

He was all for any position that kept Peter from being trampled, and was pretty sure that Pepper would be more at ease if they could get the boy to choose something like that.

Peter hesitated, looking at the clerk.

"I'd still get to wear a cup, though, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes, but the clerk had obviously heard that question, before. He nodded, smirking at the idea that Ironman's son was just like any other little kid.

"You have to wear one," he answered. "It's the rule."

"Wow." Peter nodded. "Okay."