"Is this how you spend your nights, now?" Bruce asked a couple of hours later.

He was asking Tony, technically, but his gesture was toward all of them. And the intricate racetrack that had been created. The thing ran through various chairs, along a bookshelf, over tables and as low as the floor, only to come back up and around the bar and the sofa.

The product of having so many creative geniuses in one room working on one project.

"Not always," Stark replied. "Sometimes we play Legos. Right Peter?"

The little boy nodded.

"Yeah. Or UNO. Or Sorry."

Banner shook his head.

"I'm amazed."

"Not as much as I am," Tony said. "Believe me."

Steve scooped Peter up, and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"It's late," he told the boy. "And you're supposed be getting up early. Tell everyone goodnight, and I'll put you to bed."

Peter giggled, happily – and why not? Yes, it was bedtime, but Captain America was the one putting him to bed. It was awesome.

"You have to tell me a story," Peter reminded him. "Five stories."

Natasha smirked, but Steve was ready.

"One story – and I'll give you a hint about what we're doing, tomorrow."

The little boy's eyes grew excited, and he squirmed around in Steve's grip.

"Okay." He looked at the others, somewhat upside down, still. "Goodnight."

There were various responses, but Tony reached out and rubbed Peter's back.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth. I'll come check on you, later – but don't stay awake waiting. Got it?"

"Yeah."

They watched as Rogers carried Peter out the door and Bruce looked at the track.

"This was fun."

"He's a fun guy," Sam agreed. "He doesn't get to come out every weekend, but we have a good time with him when he's here."

Banner nodded.

"He's safe, though, right? Natasha said that someone made a try to grab him?"

"Dead someones," Romanoff corrected. "He's safe."

"He is," Tony confirmed. "He has SHIELD security on him at school – and, of course, at the tower."

SHIELD was everywhere at the tower, guided by JARVIS who was in places that they couldn't, discreetly, be.

"But it was SHIELD that made the play, right?"

"Rogue agents," Clint said. "That won't happen, again."

The way that he said it made Bruce shiver, just a little. It was a reminder of just how deadly they were. Yes, they'd just spent the evening playing Hot Wheels with Tony's eight-year-old son, but under other circumstances, they were as dangerous as they came, and Bruce knew it – even if he didn't often see proof of it.

"That's good." He turned to Tony. "Are you going sledding with them, tomorrow?"

"No. I'm finishing up the suit so I can show it off to Peter when he gets back. Are you?"

"Hadn't planned on it."

"Good. You can hang out with me, then."

"Sounds fun."

OOOOOOO

If Peter had been excited to hear that they were going sledding the next morning, his eyes only grew wider and more eager when he was told that they were going to Clint's house by jet. He was still in his pajamas and sitting at the table eating breakfast with Tony when Natasha had joined them, already dressed in her leather flight suit, rather than the jeans and warm sweater that she would wear under her coat when they went sledding.

"The Quinjet?" he asked, his spoonful of oatmeal forgotten for the moment – as was his pop tart. "Really?"

"Yes." She smiled. "If you're interested?"

"Wow."

"Oh, it gets better," she told him. "Finish eating and go see what's waiting for you in your room."

"What's waiting?"

"Eat, first," she said, sitting down and winking at Tony as she did. It was always fun to see the child so excited, after all. "And don't gobble," she added.

Peter fell silent, eating as quickly as he could rather than trying to convince her to tell him. While he finished eating, Tony and Natasha simply discussed the weather, and then Pepper and how it was going for the three of them with her living with them. Not surprisingly, Peter listened and nodded his agreement at times, happily, but he was focused on eating as fast as he could without being told to slow down and didn't have time to talk.

"Do you think we're safe putting him on an airplane right after eating?" Tony asked.

"Peter won't throw up on us," Sam said, walking in just in time to hear the question. "Will you, Peter?"

"No."

Sam was wearing a flight suit, too, Tony noticed.

"Go get dressed, buddy," he told Peter. "Don't forget your coat, your hat, and your gloves."

"And your boots," Natasha said. She smiled, anticipating. "Sam will go with you to help you."

"I can get dressed," Peter assured her. He was excited, though, and hopped off his chair, easily. "I won't be long."

"I'll come keep you company, then," Wilson told the boy, picking him up because Peter was a fun kid to carry. He looked back at Natasha and Tony. "We'll meet you on the Jet pad."

"Sounds good."

The man and boy left, and Tony turned his attention to finishing his coffee, but he smiled.

"You found a flight suit small enough to fit him?"

"No. We had it made, specially, for him. Avenger patch, and everything."

"You guys are spoiling him…" Tony accused – although he didn't sound too annoyed.

"Says the guy who just made him an Ironman suit…"

The billionaire smiled, and shrugged.

"I had extra fabricating materials, what can I say?"

She smiled.

"Come on. I want to help Clint do preflight – unless Steve's already there."

"Yeah."

He was looking forward to seeing Peter in his flight suit. And, of course, just how excited the boy was going to be.

OOOOOOO

They were standing in the belly of the jet when the faint sound of a door slamming and voices drew Tony's attention from watching Natasha and Clint ready the jet for their very short flight. The three in the plane headed for the entrance and reached it just as Peter, Steve and Sam walked up.

"Look!" Peter yelled, happily, running up to Tony and posing in front of him, Natasha and Clint. "Look what they made for me!"

"Wow…"

The boy was wearing a black leather flight suit that fit him perfectly. It was a miniature version of the one Clint was wearing. Not form fitting like Natasha's, and no Captain America star like Steve's, but the Avenger A was prominent on the right shoulder and on a patch on his front. Peter was clearly thrilled – which was the whole idea, really. He didn't need a flight suit, after all – but it was one more way to include him.

"It's neat, huh?"

"It's incredible. Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah."

He had a backpack – not his regular one – that was clearly holding his coat and mittens and he was wearing his snow boots.

Looking smug, Steve and Sam walked up the ramp, as well, and Tony nodded an acknowledgement of thanks for the effort they'd gone through for the boy. Then he turned to Natasha, who had knelt in front of Peter to run her fingers along the shoulders of the suit.

"When will you be back?"

"After lunch, but well before dark," she told him. "We'll give you a heads up when we leave Clint's."

"Thanks." He touched Peter's head to get his attention. "Ground rules for the flight…"

Peter looked up at him, grinning.

"Yeah?"

"Keep your seatbelt on."

"Okay."

"Listen to Natasha – or whoever is telling you what to do."

Peter nodded.

"Okay."

"And don't fall out."

Steve snorted, amused.

"That's good advice."

"We'll take good care of him," Natasha promised.

"I know." Tony hugged his son and then turned to the ramp to leave. "Have fun."