"I thought you were going to help me cook dinner?"

Stark looked up from his tablet, smiling at Pepper, who looked amazing, even when she had nothing more interesting than jeans, a sweater, and an apron on over them.

"I am." He held up the tablet. "But this is priceless."

Of course, she had to come see what he was looking at.

"What is it?" she asked, even as she realized that it was the kitchen in the lounge at the compound, and that Nick Fury was in the large, airy, room – along with one little boy standing on a chair next to a small table with a basket of corn in front of them. "Is this a live feed?"

"Yes. JARVIS is linked in." He was linked in almost everywhere, of course, and she knew it. "Peter's helping Nick prepare dinner."

"Unlike some people…" Pepper muttered, although she rested her chin on his shoulder so she could look at the display, too. "What is he doing?"

Tony turned his head long enough to press a kiss against her cheek.

"He's shucking corn. They're going to boil corn on the cob. There's a roast in the oven – complete with a secret rub – and they are talking about peeling potatoes, although I assume Nick will not be letting my little man anywhere near a knife."

"I don't imagine so."

"Then they're going to make homemade ice cream."

She frowned.

"Really? Is there an ice cream maker at the compound?"

"Not one that I know of, but Nick wouldn't be asking Peter if he wanted to do it if he didn't have the means to get it done."

"What kind?" she asked. Then she smiled. "Wait… let me guess; chocolate chip?"

"That was Peter's suggestion," Stark confirmed. "Nick suggested that maybe they should make Natasha's favorite, since she was Peter's Valentine."

"So what did they decide on?"

"Peach."

"Ugh."

"You don't like peach?"

"Not in ice cream." She used her finger to turn his head toward her, again, and this time she kissed him. On the lips. It was an immediate and effective distraction. "Come help me make dinner."

"Yes, dear."

Which made her smile.

"That was nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Dear, it is."

"What are you going to tell Peter?"

Tony got to his feet and put his arms around her.

"I'm not sure. He's pretty perceptive, so if you don't want him to know about us, tell me now, because I need to practice not showing any interest in you when you're around."

"I'm fine with him knowing." She had a feeling that Peter wouldn't object. "Should we tell him, together? Sit him down and explain it?"

"Depends on what we're explaining," Tony said. He nuzzled her ear. "Are you moving in with us?"

"No."

"Staying the night, sometimes…?"

"Maybe."

"He has an appointment with the psychologist, Monday. I'll ask the doctor for some suggestions on how to bring it up, and then I'll let you know what he says. If I should do it alone, I will. Or if he thinks Peter would benefit by having you there, as well, then that's what we'll do. Sound good?"

"Tony Stark? Asking for suggestions rather than running headlong into something without thinking it through…? Inconceivable."

The billionaire smiled.

"It's Peter, Pep. I have to make sure I do it right, the first time. God knows his aunt did a shitty job."

"True. Let me know."

"Of course."

She kissed him, and this time it was a little more tender, and a lot steamier.

"How hungry are you?"

"Starving."

"Too bad," Pepper murmured. "I was thinking we might hold off on dinner in favor of a different kind of appetizer."

Her look was pointed and went straight through him.

"Did I say starving?" He asked, smiling, kissing her, again. "I meant I'm not hungry, at all."

"Good answer…"

He slid his hands down her back.

"I'm a quick learner. You know that."

Her throaty smile was the only reply.

The only vocal one, anyway.

OOOOOOO

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Nick Fury scowled, wiping his face with one sooty hand, and then looking at the boy who was sitting on the table in the main area of the lounge. Peter's face was sooty, too, but the boy's eyes were cheerful as he turned to greet Natasha, Steve, and Sam. As they walked up to the table, a small group of fire fighters walked out of the kitchen, waving their hands.

"It's all clear, Director."

"No danger?"

"Nope." The familiarity was tinged with humor, despite the blackened state of some of the surfaces in the kitchen. "A little smoke damage. We'll get it cleaned up, later."

"You tried to burn down the kitchen?" Steve asked, incredulously. He looked at Peter, reaching out to touch the sooty little cheek, leaving a smear. "You okay, buddy?"

Peter smiled.

"Yeah."

"There were never any actual flames," Fury said. "Just a little smoke."

"A lot of smoke," Peter said, making the others smile.

"What happened?" Natasha asked.

"The roast caught on fire," the boy replied.

"The rub on the roast," Nick corrected. "There may have been a touch too much bourbon in the mix."

"So… did you manage to save our dinner?" Sam asked.

"I was too busy making sure the really important things were taken care of," came the reply. He looked down at Peter, who was still smiling when he looked up at him – although he coughed. "You don't hurt?"

"No. I'm okay."

"We'll have you checked out, anyway," Fury decided, turning to look at Steve. "Take him to get looked at, will you?"

"Of course." Rogers reached down and picked the boy up, holding him, easily in one arm and pushing his curls back from his dirty face with his free hand. "Maybe a bath is in order, too?"

"No."

"Yes," Natasha disagreed. She tweaked Peter's nose, making the boy giggle. "You get him checked out and cleaned up and Sam and I will go find a pizza or something for dinner."

"The roast is a little charred, but we could salvage it."

"You're going to go get checked by the medics, too," Romanoff told Fury. "And a shower wouldn't kill you – or a change of clothes. You reek of smoke."

He scowled, again, but as formidable as he was, she was a match and he wasn't going to challenge her for such a minor reason.

"Fine…" he reached out and touched Peter's cheek, again. "But I don't want anchovies."

OOOOOOOO

It was well into the evening when Tony called Romanoff to check in on his son.

By then, Peter was in his pajamas and was playing Legos with Natasha and Sam. The boy looked up from the car chase between Batman and Voldemort, excited, when Natasha's phone rang, and she smiled when she answered it, gesturing for him to come over and sit on her lap for a better view.

"Tony. Good evening."

Stark's visage came onto the display of her cell. He was clearly in a good mood, and only looked more so when he saw Peter climb into Natasha lap and rest the back of his head against her front.

"Hey. Hey, there's my boy. I was just calling to check in on your guys. How's it going?"

"We're playing Legos," Peter told his father. "Sam built a obstacle course and I'm chasing Voldemort through it."

"Sounds like a good time," Tony replied. "You're ready for bed?"

"Yes. But I don't have to go to sleep, yet." The boy grinned. "Sam is going to sleep in my room, tonight."

"He is?" Stark looked a little worried, as if he were concerned that there was a serious reason for it, but Natasha didn't look worried from her position over Peter's shoulder, and he was sure she would have called him, earlier, to tell him if there had been anything too serious that had happened to cause it. "Is that so you're not so lonely without me being next door?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

"Good plan."

"We had pizza for dinner."

Tony frowned.

"I thought you were having roast, and corn?"

"We caught the kitchen on fire."

"What?"

"Relax, Tony," Natasha said, speaking up. "It wasn't actually in flames, or anything. The roast had drippings that caught in the oven and smoked the place up, a bit."

"Are you alright?" he asked the boy. He looked at Romanoff before Peter could answer. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine," she assured him. "We had him checked by the medics – just to make sure his lungs weren't hurt by the smoke, and they cleared him, no problem."

"I'm okay," Peter said. "I don't hurt when I breathe. Nick got checked out, too."

"Do I need to come get him?" Tony asked Natasha.

"Of course not. He's been fed, and we're playing Legos. He's fine," she repeated. "I'll be bringing him home, myself, sometime after lunch. Where will you be?"

There was only the briefest hesitation.

"I'll be home."

"Where are you, now?" Peter asked realizing that he wasn't seeing their home in the background.

"I'm at Pepper's."

"Is she there?"

The billionaire smiled at his son.

"Why would I be here, if she wasn't?"

"I don't know. You could be cleaning, or something."

Romanoff's smile was knowing, and Tony rolled his eyes, well aware that the superspy knew why he was at Pepper's.

"Yes, Tony…" she drawled. "Whatever could you be doing there? Laying… new carpet?"

There was a decidedly feminine snort of amusement, and Pepper stuck her head in close to Tony's so Peter – and Natasha – could see her.

"Hi, honey."

"Hi, Pepper." Peter's smile was happy, and it made Pepper smile, too. Of course, he had every reason to be happy, really. He was being held by one person, and talking to two others – and Sam was waiting to finish playing Legos when the call ended. "Are you getting new carpet?"

"No. Your dad came over for dinner. We're going to watch a movie, but he wanted to call and check on you before you went to bed."

"Oh. What are you going to watch?"

"A love story," Tony told him. "We haven't decided which one – but it will be filled with kissing and googly eyes."

"Ewww." The boy giggled. "I'm glad I'm here, then."

"If you were here, we wouldn't be watching a love story." He smiled. "Sleep well, son. I'll see you, tomorrow."

"Okay. Night, Pepper."

"Night, Peter."

The call ended, and Stark put his phone away, but activated his link to JARVIS on his phone, leaving it open so Pepper could hear, too.

"Is there a reason you didn't bother to tell me about the fire?"

"There wasn't a fire," the AI assured him. "Just a lot of smoke. The compound has many fire extinguishers."

"But still…"

"You were otherwise preoccupied when the incident occurred," JARVIS pointed out. "I am certain that you wouldn't have appreciated me interrupting, just then."

"Let it drop, Tony," Pepper told him, relaxing against him. "I don't even want to know what he knows about what we've been up to – or how exactly he knows it."

"He doesn't know," Tony said, putting his arm around her. "There aren't any cameras in your bedroom – unfortunately."

She found that more amusing than annoying, and he was glad for it, since it had popped out without him thinking what she'd think of that particular comment. Pepper chuckled, and reached for the remote.

"Just for that, we're watching something extremely chick-flick-ish."

"Awww."

He didn't care, though. He watched the adventures of Lego Batman for hours just to make Peter happy. He'd watch a chick-flick if that was what she wanted.

Personal growth certainly was annoyingly sweet, sometimes.