"Are you sure you want to pick Cars?" Tony asked, seriously. "It doesn't have to be a cartoon. Peter likes regular movies, too."

He liked every kind of movie, Tony had discovered.

Pepper nodded.

"I get to choose, right?"

"Yep."

"Cars is good. I saw it."

"When?"

"At the premier."

"You went to the premier?"

"You were invited."

Which meant that she'd almost certainly told him, and he hadn't bothered to show up.

"Oh."

She smirked, and took the bowl of popcorn that he'd popped from him before walking from the kitchen out into the living room where the others were all arranged on the couch or the oversized comfortable chairs. Peter was on the sofa, and she was amused to find that he'd literally fallen asleep between the discussion of what movie they wanted to watch and Tony offering to pop popcorn.

He was sprawled bonelessly against the right-side cushion, head on the arm of the couch where he'd been watching, eagerly, for Tony and Pepper to return.

"He didn't make it?"

"Not even close," Steve said, softly.

They'd been watching him all evening, looking sleepier and sleepier as they'd eaten a filling dinner of meatloaf, potatoes and asparagus. He'd even managed a few bites of the ice cream that Steve had brought back with them from the restaurant. But once he'd been in front of the fire, on the soft leather of the sofa, his long day and full stomach had overwhelmed him, and he hadn't lasted long.

"Do we put him to bed?"

She didn't know much about children, of course, but this was almost the blind leading the blind since none of them had any real experience with any kids – other than Peter, now. Clint was their expert, since he had kids, but he wasn't there to guide them.

"No," Tony answered before any of the others could. "If he wakes up and the proper length of time for us to have watched a movie and then put him to bed hasn't passed, then he'll know he went to bed, and will feel that we cheated him."

"So, we're going to leave him where he is… and watch the cartoon?" she clarified. "Just in case he wakes up?"

"Pretty much." He shrugged, wryly. "What can I say? It's happened."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

She sat down on the sofa, putting her feet up on the coffee table and saving the space beside Peter for Tony. The billionaire made sure there was a comforter draped over the back of the sofa and then settled next to the boy. Surprising Pepper, and making Natasha and her both smile, Tony gathered the sleeping boy into his arms, shushing him, gently, when Peter stirred, sleepily, and then went back to sleep. Then he pulled the blanket down over the two of them, offering a corner to Pepper, who shook her head.

The fire was already almost too warm, she definitely didn't want to be covered.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" Sam asked, softly, before the lights were turned off and the movie started.

They were all pretty tired, too. They were in good shape, but a day of sledding could wear down the most fit, and Steve (being the most fit), dressed in sweats, fluffy socks, and a thermal long-sleeved shirt, was already almost asleep, too. He opened his eyes at the question, though, and looked over at Tony, willing to defer to whatever he had in mind.

"Sleep in, have breakfast and maybe a walk in the woods before we head home."

"No more sledding?" Natasha asked, smiling.

"Nope. I want to be home at a decent time, tomorrow."

"Things to do?"

"Ask Pepper. She's the one who tells me what I'm doing."

Pepper smirked, amused. They all knew there was a thread of truth to that statement, but she didn't really set his schedule – beyond telling him the meetings and appointments that he absolutely had to attend. Other than that, he was free to work on his projects and be available to the avengers (and now Peter).

"Is your Christmas shopping done?"

"There are a few last-minute items to go under the tree. Some are being delivered, tomorrow. I don't need to be there, though. I just want to make sure our little guy isn't overwhelmed with too many activities being thrust at him all at once. I intend to have a week of just staying at home until the run up to Christmas."

"Then I'll clear your schedule of meetings. It's Christmas, so it won't be too hard. No one wants to have appointments when they're trying to figure out how to get through the holiday, anyway."

"We can swing by, though, right?" Sam asked. "You know… to drop off presents, and say hi."

"Of course."

"Are we done?" Steve asked, holding the remote control. "I want to watch cartoons."

They all knew he just wanted to have the lights turned down and the movie start so he could fall asleep in peace and quiet.

"For now."

Natasha threw Steve a pillow to get himself more comfortable, the lights went off and the movie started. Pepper looked over at Tony, watching him in the light of the display. The billionaire wasn't watching the movie, just then. He was watching Peter sleep, wondering if the boy was worn out enough to sleep through the night, or if he should even bother putting him to bed, later.

He might just take him to bed with him – or sack out on the couch to avoid waking Peter even long enough to put him into his own bed.

Stark looked up, and gave a mental shrug.

He'd decide later.

OOOOOOOO

"Home sweet home…"

Peter smiled at the way Tony said it, looking up at him as the lock of the apartment came open with a soft clock.

"I had fun."

"I know you did," Stark said. "I did, too."

"And Natasha? And Steve? And Pepper? And Sam?"

"Yeah, all of them, too."

They'd actually said goodbye to Sam, Steve and Natasha that morning at the resort. Since the compound was well north of the city, Tony and Peter were going to ride home with Pepper, while the others went north. There had been a lot of hugs, though, in the parking lot before they'd separated, and Peter had been smiling the entire drive back to the city, talking almost nonstop about the things that they'd done – even though Pepper and Tony had both been there and lived through it with him.

She'd dropped them off, telling Tony she was going to go home and take a shower and sleep for a few days. Then she'd hugged Peter, tightly, and told him she'd see him soon and had driven off after they'd grabbed their bags. Tony was ready to relax, too, and was glad to be home.

He'd had fun, though.

Peter automatically looked at the tree when they walked in. Not so surprising, really, considering it was so magnificent. He dropped his bags on the sofa, though, and shrugged out of his coat.

"Tony, look!"

Stark smiled, watching as the child hurried over to the tree. Some new presents had been delivered and placed under the tree while they'd been gone. As well as one gift that was much too large to actually fit under the tree.

He walked over to where Peter was standing, running his hand over the piano, which was completely wrapped in gold paper with silver trim. Even the bench was wrapped, individually.

"Wow. I wonder what that is…"

Peter grinned up at him.

"It's a piano."

The billionaire frowned.

"Think so?"

"It's the same size and shape as a piano," Peter pointed out, logically. "What else could it be?"

"Could be a red herring." He smiled at the confused look Peter gave him. "Something to distract us from it really is," he clarified. "Maybe it's a clarinet."

"It's not a clarinet."

Tony shrugged, pleased and amused. He'd known that Peter could play piano, and he, himself, played, but he didn't have one in the apartment. He'd never even considered it, really, until he'd seen how much fun Peter had been having playing at the lodge. Which was all the reason he needed to have one ordered, wrapped, and delivered while they were gone.

"I guess we'll find out on Christmas."

"I don't see a tag thing," Peter said, looking it over, and still pretty sure it was a piano. "Who's it from?"

"No clue. I was gone, too, remember? Maybe we have a secret admirer."

"JARVIS? Who sent the piano?" Peter asked, practically bouncing in eagerness, now.

"The piano was delivered this morning by a music company in the city."

"But who sent it?" Peter pressed. "Who got it for Tony?"

"Unknown."

"Maybe they got it for both of us," Stark told the boy. "It could be that there's a card or something under the wrapping paper."

"Can we check?"

"On Christmas, when we unwrap it."

Peter groaned, dramatically, and it made Tony smile, amused.

"Tony…"

He picked him up, drawing his attention from the piano.

"Sorry, buddy. Christmas is for opening Christmas presents. Not a week before."

"I can't wait that long," Peter told him, turning himself upside down in Tony's grip. "I'll have a heart attack, or something."

"JARVIS? Is Peter going to have a heart attack if he has to wait for Christmas?"

"There are countless other children waiting for Christmas," the AI said. "None of their parents have reported them as having health issues from the anticipation."

Tony chuckled at another anguished groan, and dropped Peter onto the sofa.

"Go unpack your things," he suggested. "Put your clothes in the hamper, and then we'll do something."

"What?"

"Whatever you want," Tony said, shrugging. It was Sunday afternoon, after all; he didn't have any plans. "As long as it doesn't involve opening our new clarinet."

Peter laughed and grabbed his bags, rolled off the couch and then headed for his room to unpack.