A Quarter for the Sir Jar
"Kid, can you hand me the wrench? The one that… oh, yeah, that's it. Now I need the… yeah." Tony had never had an assistant. Not in the lab or in the workshop. He hadn't ever wanted one. But the last few times the kid had come in for his internship, he'd happened to be in the middle of a project, so he'd just used it as teaching time, narrating what he was doing, and letting the kid do some of the work here and there. After working together just a couple weeks, the boy already seemed to have a sixth sense (or maybe was just really observant) about which tool Tony would need next. Sometimes he had it ready before Tony had even realized he needed it, and it made his work go at least 30% faster (according to FRIDAY). Surprisingly, the boy had not only a good theoretical grasp of most of the engineering concepts they were working with, but was also really good with his hands. And, his hands were smaller than Tony's, which was useful at times.
Today they were working on one of Tony's suits, one that he preferred to use if they were going to be out in wet conditions much, or especially if underwater work was needed. And there was something stuck inside the foot of the suit that was preventing it from disassembling as it should. When he was getting out of it last, he'd actually had to wiggle out of the boot part like a shoe. Which was, of course, unacceptable.
"Kid, see if you can get your arm down in there and press the screwdriver into that little indent about 2 inches up from the bottom. Do you feel it?"
Peter's arm almost disappeared inside the leg of the suit, and he got that specific look on his face when he was concentrating on what he could feel without seeing. He'd had a lot of practice with that lately with the projects Tony had him helping on. "Yeah, I think so. I just press into it? It's not going to break it?"
"If it does, we'll fix it. Go ahead and give it a touch of super strength. I couldn't quite trigger it."
Peter did, and the panel finally popped off. And with it, a small piece of sea shell or coral.
"Aha," said Tony. Knew there was something jamming up the works."
"Mr. Stark, were you at the bottom of the ocean in your suit?" The look Peter was giving him was equally impressed and critical.
"Okay, dial down the judgment; that's what this one's designed for, kid. Looks like I need a bit of a redesign to protect against sea-grit as well as water." The Spiderkid's force had broken a little tab off the ankle panel as it released it, but it was easily fixable.
"Let's take this part over to the soldering iron and see if everything's in working order now before we look at a redesign for another day."
Tony had just finished fixing the piece when for some unknown reason DUM-E (who had been sitting right behind them) bumped solidly into the back of his leg. It scared and unbalanced him, and he dropped the soldering iron as he used that hand to grab the workbench in support to avoid falling. Unfortunately, Peter's reflexes caused him to reach down and catch it before it hit the floor. But not by the cool end.
A word slipped out of his mouth Mr. Stark hadn't heard from the kid before as he dropped the tool on the bench. But the damage was done.
"DUM-E, you waste of space! What were you doing? To your corner, now, and pray I don't turn you into a storage shelf tomorrow!"
"Don't yell at him, Mr. Stark," Peter pleaded, hissing slightly through the pain. "It was an accident; he probably just wanted to see better."
"Are you really defending him, when you ended up with what looks like a 2nd degree burn? Let's get you over to the sink and get cold water on it."
"It's okay, sir, I heal fast." But Tony could see the tightness around his eyes and hear the hitches in his breathing.
"I'm going to ignore the 'sir' for now, but we might have to put a jar for you next to the swear jar Pepper so thoughtfully brought down, Underoos." He cradled the kid's hand in his as he guided it under the stream of cool water. "I'm guessing that just because you'll heal faster doesn't mean it hurts you any less, am I right, kiddo?"
Peter didn't answer, just ducked his head and used the back of his other hand to swipe at his face. Were those tears? Ugh, Tony couldn't handle that. Though he'd had some bad burns before, and they definitely hurt enough to bring a few tears to his eyes too. He wasn't sure what to do with the kid though. He didn't have a lot of experience comforting people, especially not kids. Or teenagers, or whatever the Spiderling was.
"FRIDAY, will you scan Peter's hand, babe, and tell us what we're dealing with? And turn off the soldering iron," he added as an afterthought.
"Mr. Parker appears to have a superficial second-degree burn. Recommended treatment is soaking or running under cool water for 10-15 minutes, then bandaging with antibiotic ointment. Long-term care is unlikely to be an issue given Mr. Parker's physiology."
Thankfully, the kid seemed to have pulled himself together and was breathing slowly and steadily (though a little shakily) through the pain. Huh. That was probably a good strategy. Tony should try it next time. It was less chaotic than yelling and throwing things.
"Thanks, FRI. How many minutes are we at with the water?"
"Three, boss." Okay, so distraction time.
"Kid, have I ever told you about the time Rhodey and I-"
"Colonel Rhodes? War Machine?"
"Uh, yeah. Have we not hung out with Rhodey yet?" The kid gave him a bewildered look.
"Um, no. I only kinda met him that one time in Germany." Right, Germany. Tony winced.
"Oh. Well, that's weird. We'll have to change that." The kid's eyes widened.
"I could meet Mr. War M- er, Colonel Rhodes again? We could hang out?"
"Yeah, kid, of course. Rhodey's down here pretty often, and I'm sure he'd love to meet you." Tony paused in thought. "But he doesn't know that you're the Spider-guy he met in Germany, remember. I haven't told anyone about that."
"Oh, yeah yeah yeah. I appreciate that," the kid sputtered, looking thoughtful.
"Anyway, we were juniors at MIT, and feeling a little run down at finals time that spring. I decided we needed something to bump up the fun factor on campus."
The boy looked worried. As he should be.
"How much washing soda do you think you need to make a real pretty mess of a large-ish fountain?"
The kid's face morphed to somewhere between horror and awe. "Um, I guess you'd need information on gallons of water, and-"
"Eh, we didn't care that much about being specific. We just poured a whole box in. Bubbles everywhere. Bubbles for days. It worked wonderfully. Well, according to us." The kid was still wincing occasionally, but seemed pretty intrigued by the story. "The administration wasn't so happy, but thankfully they didn't know who it was. We did feel bad when we saw what a mess it was for the janitorial staff, so we had twelve dozen donuts delivered to their office as an apology."
Peter grinned and shifted her arm where it was sitting against the sink. "That's insane, Mr. Stark. Did they ever find out it was you?"
"Not that I know of. I kinda can't believe I talked Rhodey into being part of it, actually. He was usually the one that pulled me back down from doing dumb stuff like that," Tony said with fond look on his face.
"You are at ten minutes, Boss," FRIDAY spoke up.
"Oh, good. You okay, kid? Want to give it another couple minutes?"
"I can stop, sir, if we need to work on something else."
Tony made a buzzer noise with his mouth. "FRI, that's two for the "sir" jar. Keep track until I get one."
"Of course, Boss."
Peter rolled his eyes, but smiled, ducking his head. Tony scrubbed a hand across his curls in mock censure.
"We don't have to work on anything else today, kid. Let's give it another few minutes in the water, then we'll dry it off and get it wrapped up. It's just about dinner time. I'll feed you before I send you home. What do you want? Chinese? Indian? Vietnamese?"
"Um, could we maybe do pizza?" the kid asked tentatively.
"Oh, sure, sure. What do you like on your pizza?"
"Pretty much anything. Except maybe pineapple," he said hesitantly.
"Oh, thank heavens. Pineapple does not belong on pizza, no matter what Pepper says. But come on, kid, you have to have a preference."
"Can we get a meat lover's?" Those big brown eyes looked so hopeful. Tony shook his head to clear it before he bought those puppy dog eyes a whole pizza store. What the…
"Yep. How many?"
"What?" The kid looked confused.
"Surely you can eat a pizza by yourself. But do you want two? Or meat lover's and something else?"
"Um, I've never eaten a whole pizza." He looked a little embarrassed, and continued softly, "But I guess I probably could, if I didn't have to worry about if anyone was watching, you know?
"FRIDAY, order a meat lover's, a double pepperoni, and a supreme for the kid-"
"No onions," Peter spoke up quickly.
"Without onions, and a pepperoni and olives for me. That'll give you some leftovers to take back for snacks the next day or two."
The boy grinned again. "Uh, can I take my hand out of the water now?"
"Let's see it." Tony held it gently from underneath and turned it slightly side to side. The blisters were already mostly gone, and the redness had improved. He released it and wiped his wet hands on his jeans. "Yeah, it looks pretty good. Let's bandage it up and we can hang out and tweak some stuff on your suit's coding while we wait for the pizza."
"Can we?" Tony swore his face lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Unless you have homework you need to work on?"
"Oh, no, s-uh, Mr. Stark. I finished it."
Tony pointed a pen at the kid and quirked an eyebrow. "You caught it that time. We'll get you trained yet."
Peter rolled his eyes and smiled.