By the time they'd finished lunch, Peter was much more relaxed with the adults around him. Clint had been the first to break through, which made sense, since he had kids and was used to them. Steve had plenty of experience dealing with the public and excited kids suddenly turned shy at the presence of Captain America. Sam was a good guy by nature and that extended to the people around him.

Natasha was a killer, an assassin, and a spy with absolutely no experience with little kids, whatsoever. But Peter didn't know that, and when she made the effort, she could do anything she wanted, and fit in anywhere and with anyone – which was a requirement for a successful spy.

The boy took to her, immediately, and she didn't even have to pretend to like him, as well.

"He seems to be having a good time," Steve said to Tony, who turned from his tablet to see Clint and Sam playing tug-of-war near the bar, using a giggling Peter Parker as the rope.

Tony smiled as Clint won, and swung the boy by his feet, his hair brushing the floor, but the firm grip of the archer keeping him from actually whacking his little head on anything.

"That's the whole point of bringing him out here. If he throws up, though, Clint's cleaning him up."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Rogers shrugged. "He's really as smart as you're bragging about him being?"

Tony nodded.

"Yeah. More, really, because I only deal with the math and sciences part of things. He's fairly well rounded, though. He plays music, and has a flair for languages. His handwriting is crap, though. You're better off trying to read chicken scratches than get meaning out of anything he writes out that isn't an equation."

"He's little. That'll work itself out."

"Probably."

"Is he safe?"

Peter whooped when Clint tossed him over to Sam, and Tony tensed as the boy literally sailed through the air, only to be caught, easily, by the other man.

"Not if they keep doing that."

Someone would drop him, eventually, Tony was sure.

"That isn't what I meant," Steve said. "I mean where he lives."

"He's safe. The guy that runs the home is a mountain, Steve, and he's genuinely a good guy. I checked him out. Peter likes him."

Of course, he had checked him out.

Steve didn't look convinced, but Sam said something to Peter, set him on his feet and the boy came running over to them, interrupting the conversation he didn't know they were having.

"Can I go outside with Clint and Sam?" he asked Tony, still smiling.

"It's raining."

"Sam's going to show me how he flies."

"He can stay under the awning, Tony," Clint added, the two men having walked over in time to hear Stark's reply. "And I'll stay with him the whole time."

Peter's brown eyes were huge and hopeful, and Tony frowned, wondering when he'd lost the ability to resist them.

"Don't get wet."

Peter nodded.

"I won't."

"And don't get hurt," he added. Then he looked at Sam. "He doesn't fly, too."

"Of course not."

"Not this time, anyway," Natasha said, also walking over. "Maybe I'll come supervise."

It was clear that the Avengers were enjoying their young guest's company just as much as he was enjoying theirs. And why not? Peter was adorable, Tony knew, and they were always living on the edge when they were working, so it was nice for them to have a chance to relax a little and let their hair down, so to speak.

"You do that," Tony agreed. "I'll be in my workroom when you're finished."

"You're working this weekend?" Sam asked.

Stark shrugged.

"I'm here. I might as well get some things finished." He looked down at the boy, who was looking up at him, and felt a warm gooeyness spread through his core at just how happy he was, and put his hand on his head, smiling. "But, later, I'll put on the Ironman suit and really show you how flying is done."

"Wow."

Clint reached for Peter's hand.

"Come on, Peter," he said. "Let's go see if Sam can fly in the rain, or if he crashes and lands on his head."

Wilson snorted.

"Don't forget his jacket," Tony told them.

They waved to show that they'd heard him and then were gone.

"He's adorable, Tony," Natasha said. "I can't believe you were afraid of him."

The billionaire scowled.

"I was never afraid of him…"

She rolled her eyes.

"Steve told me otherwise."

"I might have mentioned you complaining about him stalking you…" Rogers admitted.

"Annoyed by him," Tony corrected. "I was annoyed by him. That's not the same as being afraid."

"True." She gave him a sidelong glance. "You know… a kid like that could probably benefit from having a genius in his life."

"He has a genius in his life," Stark pointed out. "Me. That was the whole idea of the mentor thing, after all."

True, it hadn't been his idea, and he'd gone in kicking and screaming and pouting, but they didn't need to know that. It was working out, really, and he was enjoying the company.

"I meant something more constant. Maybe permanent."

Tony wasn't an idiot. He frowned, and shook his head.

"That isn't going to happen. Forget about it."

Steve shrugged.

"It's something to think about."

"No, it isn't."

Romanoff smirked.

"I'm going to go play with Peter. How long are you going to be in your workroom?"

"Until you get tired of entertaining him, or he gets hungry. When either happens, call me and I'll come take over."

"What are you going to do tonight?"

"Work on some quadratic equations with him."

Rogers shook his head.

"Or… you could do something fun, instead."

"That is fun. He happens to like math, guys."

"He's still a little boy, Tony," Natasha reminded him. "Why don't we have Steve or someone set up the briefing room to show a movie, and you pipe in the latest Disney release?"

"A movie?"

"Why not? Doesn't he like movies?"

"He might have mentioned a couple of movies, here and there."

"Then that's what you guys should do. He passed his test so make him take a break for the weekend and have fun, instead."

Tony knew that they weren't going to understand. They weren't geniuses, now were they? But he was willing, and he had to admit that a quiet evening watching a brainless cartoon might be a good way to make the child sleepy, later. He had no experience with kids, but he couldn't see how it couldn't be a good thing.

"Fine. Set it up." It was their idea, after all. "I'll be in my workroom."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Wow."

Clint smiled, pleased with himself, even though he was only impressing an eight-year-old. It was the thought that counted, after all.

"Want to try it?"

Peter shook his head, smiling, and put his little hands behind his back, as if to ward off temptation to touch the bow that the archer was holding out to him.

"He couldn't draw the string, Clint," Steve pointed out. "Besides, Tony told Peter he's not allowed to touch any weapons."

He'd given Steve and Natasha the same list of ground rules that he'd given Peter.

"A bow isn't a weapon," Clint pointed out. "It's just a tool. The arrow is the dangerous part."

"So I could give him a gun, as long as it isn't loaded, and not be breaking the rule?" Romanoff asked.

The archer hesitated.

"That's different." He winked down at Peter, who smiled. He didn't mind not trying the bow. "You've seen what I can do, and you've seen Sam fly. Ready to see what Natasha can do?"

The boy nodded, looking up at Romanoff with interest.

"What do you do?"

She hid her frown. Obviously she wasn't going to tell him her particular skillset, now was she? She didn't want to scare him, or traumatize him with stories from her past, or past missions.

"I'm pretty good at sneaking around," she told him. "Want to put it to the test?" Peter nodded, again, and Natasha turned to Steve. "We're going to need to recruit some more people…"

Rogers smiled, and he nodded, too.

"I'll make the call."

OOOOOOOO

It was Tony who eventually came looking for them.

The billionaire was accustomed to losing himself in his work. Of getting so involved with what he was doing that nothing else mattered. This time, however, Peter was on his mind, distracting him, as he tried to decide if a grenade launcher was a bit too ostentatious to put on his next Ironman suit, or not. He worked for over an hour on it, and then sighed and turned off the display.

"JARVIS? What is Peter doing?"

The AI was integrated with the compound's network, after all, and that included the surveillance cameras and security cameras.

"He's crawling through an overhead air duct, near the gym."

Tony sat up.

"What?"

"He isn't alone," the AI was quick to reassure. "Natasha Romanoff is with him."

As if that made it any less crazy. Or dangerous.

"Why are they doing that?"

"Unknown without more context."

"Where are the others?"

"To judge from the activities of all other personnel, it would appear they are looking for Agent Romanoff and Peter."

The billionaire shook his head and activated the communications on his watch. A moment later, Natasha's voice came over the system, soft enough that he could barely hear her.

"Not now, Tony," she said without preamble. "I'm busy."

"What are you doing?"

"Peter and I are playing hide and seek."

"With whom?"

"Everyone."

She ended the call before he could say anything else, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Keep an eye on them, JARVIS," he ordered his AI. "Let me know if anything happens."

"Yes, Sir." There was a pause. "He's an interesting fellow, isn't he?"

Tony smiled, leaning back in his chair, now, but not bothering to return to his work. Maybe – subconsciously – listening for the tell-tale thump that would indicate that Romanoff and her accomplice fell out of a vent, somewhere.

"And eight year old who is miles ahead of most of the world? Yeah, you might say he's interesting."

"It's a shame that he only gets to spend an hour or two a day with you."

"He only needs an hour or so a day," Tony pointed out. "It doesn't usually take him that long to do his homework."

"There are other things you two could do besides homework."

Stark scowled. He was quick to see what JARVIS was getting at, too.

"We do other things. I brought him here and he's playing tag with the Avengers."

"You do something two days a month."

"Three days, this month."

"This was an exception."

"Don't start on me, JARVIS. Peter doesn't need to hang out with me more than he does. He's happy at the Tatro's. They take good care of him."

"True. But he is one of six, there."

"Which gives him a chance to learn to socialize," Tony reminded the AI. "Obviously, that isn't something he'd be able to learn from me, now is it?"

"You're very good with him, sir."

"Because I can send him home at the end of the day. Change the conversation, will you? I don't want to hear about it."

"The state probably wouldn't allow you a license to be a foster parent, at any rate," JARVIS said. "You don't qualify."

"I'd qualify," Tony said, immediately. "If I were even interested. Which I'm not."

"No. It isn't something you can buy your way into."

"JARVIS, drop it."

"Of course." There was a pause, and Tony waited, because he knew that it wasn't dropped, yet. "It's not as if you would gain higher public approval by applying, after all. Which might keep down the amount of school tours that you would have to attend, since Miss. Potts would be happy."

"I'd rather give a school tour every week than have a little kid underfoot full time."

"Even if it were Peter?"

"Yes," came the immediate reply, although Tony knew that he wasn't being completely truthful. He got to his feet, wanting to end the conversation – and the inner voices that were nagging him to consider the unthinkable. Maybe he'd go see what the boy was up to with Natasha. "Where are Peter and Romanoff, now?"

"Hiding."

"From the others," Stark said. "Not from me."

"It wouldn't be right for me to give away their location."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'm going to the lounge."

It was almost dinner time, after all, and Peter would be hungry after his active day.

"Very good, sir."